#feel a warm breeze on your skin and remember how much world there is for you to enjoy

[protectcosette]

nothing like sunshine and fresh herbs and strawberries and goat cheese to remind you that life is worth living

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I dont know if you write smut, but if you do, I was wondering if you could do a bestfriend!james and reader going further above the just touching? Like, they're cuddling and then suddenly grinding, leading to some you knooow!! Hehe, thank you!

I do ! This one is fairly tame though, sorry, it just felt more right for them in the moment. Thanks for requesting babe <3

cw: pg-13 smut

bestfriend!James x fem!reader ♡ 658 words

James is hardly the poster boy for cleanliness, but even he won’t stoop to getting in bed with jeans on. Which is how the two of you always end up like this, curled up under his covers and pantless for a midafternoon nap. 

The first time you did this, you were hardly able to sleep, but now it feels fairly normal. It helps that you’ve got the world’s least sexy underwear on, full-coverage and worn, a pinkish beige color that you suppose was probably supposed to be someone’s skin tone but you’d only bought as part of a multipack. And James has the comfiest bed in the world, a weighted comforter and the sort of heavenly mattress only generational wealth can procure. His arm is strewn loosely over your side, his front pressed to your back, and his breath is a steady rhythm on the nape of your neck. You’ve never felt so blissfully warm and heavy. 

You know without knowing how that James is starting to wake up just like you are, slow and lazy. You stretch out a leg, feeling the muscles tense all the way up your back, and he splays his hand on your abdomen as though to keep you in place. Makes a soft, sleepy sound. 

Later, you’ll say that you don’t even remember deciding to do it. Maybe you’re too tired to think straight, maybe you’re still halfway in a dream, but you nudge your hips back into James. A subtle movement. Incidental. 

Only, James nudges back. And he tilts his head so his mouth moves closer to your shoulder, mumbling something incoherent into your skin. 

It feels good. You keep going. After a while, his hand has migrated up to cup your tit, not hard, not squeezing, just a lazy perusal of unexplored skin. There’s not much of your skin James doesn’t know, but this is some of it. 

There’s a nice, sluggish warmth seeping into your core, sweet as a river of honey. Your breaths are still relaxed, syncing now. 

“James,” you whisper, his name hardly more than breath. 

“Yeah.” His hand trails back down to your hip, helping you turn over. “C’mere.” 

Your mouth practically falls onto his. There’s no parting of lips, no tentative pecks. Your mouths find each other warm and open. James tastes like basil, the pasta you’d had for lunch, but somehow also like himself, like even his saliva is a little bit sweeter than everyone else’s. 

You end up on top of him through a team effort, your leg hooked over his and his hands helping you the rest of the way. He holds your hips gently, guiding you back and forth over him. 

It’s slow and easy, like leaves swaying in the breeze or the tide coming in. So natural you wonder if this is actually the first time it’s happened. Maybe you and James have been doing this, somewhere just outside the reaches of your consciousness, forever. 

“Jamie,” you say in between kisses. Your voice hardly sounds like yours, breathy and still stretched with sleep. “What’re we doing?” 

“Dunno.” James’ voice sounds just as lax. It’s oddly comforting. “Don’t stop, yeah?” 

You weren’t planning on it. You let your head fall beside his on his pillow, face nestled in the downy softness of his curls while you kiss at the skin behind his ear. 

James makes a murmured sound of encouragement. His thumb begins to make smooth, indolent circles over the fabric of your underwear. 

“I fucking love these ones,” he sighs. 

You guess they’re not so unsexy after all. Once you decide you’re done with his neck, he takes a turn, slipping your sleeve off your shoulder to give you a pretty mark just to the left of your collarbone. Your bodies are warm everywhere they touch, that heat in your core a steady comfort. 

You don’t talk any more. You fall back asleep with your nose smushing into his cheek. 

[malleleothreesome]

Azul Ashengrotto x afab Reader - Aphrodisiac + Breeding

💜 summary: After an alchemy accident, you and Azul end up covered in an aphrodisiac potion ༶༶༶ 💜 warnings: afab reader, smut, LOTS OF BREEDING KINK, pregnancy mention, porn with plot??? ༶༶༶ 💜 word count: 8.4k words I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED ༶༶༶ 💜 song: Vapor - 5 Seconds of Summer "I wanna feel you in my veins I want to breathe you in like a vapor I want to be the one you remember I want to feel your love like the weather, all over me" ༶༶༶ 💜 inspired by: this ask thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

As a magicless human, Alchemy had always been your favorite class at Night Raven College. Despite lacking an innate aptitude for spell-casting, mixing and crafting potions was an artform that didn't require magic in order to bring spectacular effects into the world. Alchemy classes provided a refuge—a safe space with no barrier for entry where you could excel instead of feeling singled out for being an oddity in a sea of talented mages. You relished in the opportunity to learn about new components and elements, excitedly observing as volatile chemicals bubbled in heated pots to produce glowing, glittery pastes.

Much to your suspicion, Azul had always been particularly enthused to help you with potions, boasting how he was the most adept in the class due to his academic proficiencies, and that he was certain you'd find success with his aid. He took special interest in mentoring you, watching your delicate, nimble movements as you worked, walking you through procedures and detailed steps, and speaking knowledgeably about the ingredients in a tone that oozed expertise. His tutelage had helped you reach impressive grades on even the most challenging assignments. It wasn’t long before you found yourself spellbound by his charming intellect, deceivingly sweet demeanor, and the addictively intense gaze of his unique blue eyes.

There was always a subtle mischief hidden behind the smiling eyes and the easy charisma that suggested an ulterior motive lurking beneath his silver-tongue. Based on your observations of his interactions with other students, you assumed this was a ploy in hopes that if you had taste of the sweet, intoxicating elixir of power and success, you'd become desperate for more of his help, consequentially making you subservient and open to the idea of contracting yourself to him. In defiance of your paranoia that his motivations are not entirely altruistic, you did always feel an odd prickle in the air when he stood right behind you to monitor your actions. That sensation, a fiery buzz that hummed in your lower abdomen, always gave your heart flutters and kept you on edge as Azul's calm breaths ghosted against your hair and sent ripples of warm pleasure tingling through you. Your breath hitched in your throat as his large, gloved palms gently guided you through your motions, brushing over the bare skin on your knuckles or arms, leaving electric jolts where you felt his warmth. He smelled crisp like ocean breeze, an inviting fragrance that enveloped your mind and wrenched you out of reality and into his heady fantasy—a scene in which all you can taste are the thick, sweet notes of his dark intentions, and all you could do was choke on his cloying, dominating allure. He didn't ask permission to touch you or indicate an appropriate method to teach—no, his hands simply snaked around your waist and ran along your curves, slowly learning the feeling of your soft flesh through his gloves. Each time, you couldn't help but sink a little closer to his chest, instinctively chasing the seductive ambience radiating off of him, drowning in his captivating presence as though he was the tide pulling you under. There was no denying it—you wanted more of him.

Today's lab was no different, the air was tense and thick with charged attraction, filled with sexual tension so palpable it could be cut with a knife. The assignment was to experimentally combine various liquids, mixing and adjusting for better consistency, until you found a formula to concoct a viable, bountiful healing potion that would greatly ease the effects of injury. This assignment was a notoriously difficult, energy-draining procedure that required extreme vigilance to avoid an adverse chemical reaction that would result in a completely different type of potion, although Crewel didn’t elaborate on the exact details. After carefully pouring two compounds—one a milky white, and the other a vivid magenta—into a tall, cylindrical flask, Azul cautiously peered over your shoulder to check your concoction's progress as you stirred them. With one arm outstretched against the table to secure a good vantage point, he rested his other on your waist and leaned in closer as he studied the bubbling pink mixture. After adding an infusion of ground powder, a burst of sparkles clouded the interior of the flask, a telltale sign you were on the right track. This is the portion of the experiment where you needed to take extra caution to mix the elements together in perfect precision without faltering or taking your eyes away from your project, a delicate operation requiring the utmost concentration. Suddenly, Grim barges in and jumps on the lab station in excitement, yapping about how he wants to help, despite you and Azul explaining multiple times he has a proven history of destroying your projects.

The moment the little cat-monster attempts to extend his claws into your precious potion, Azul reacts automatically with surprising speed, his hands fly in a frenzy to scoop Grim away from your chemistry equipment. "Get off that this instant, Grim! You have no business here! Get your little paws out of that glassware this instant before you ruin another assignment! Do not interrupt us! Get away from there immediately!" Azul scolds him repeatedly while chasing him around the room, attempting to steer him to the door. "Why you foolish beast! You're far more of a liability than an asset! This experiment requires extreme care and concentration to avoid failure—a common result of your erratic, clumsy behavior!" His expression hardens with anger, eyebrows drawing into a line as Grim hisses defiantly. The little monster still hasn't relented, his hind legs clumsily scrabbling and slipping in Azul's grip as he tries desperately to cling onto the edge of the lab table, hoping for a quick paw-hold. A heavy, frustrated sigh escapes Azul's nostrils, his face morphing into one of desperation, pleading with the troublesome cat-creature to just leave you to focus your project in peace.

"How very annoying... To think he would willingly place himself in danger without even stopping to consider the consequences... what a foolish and irresponsible creature," he exhales irritably, struggling to wrestle Grim from his precarious position as his composure begins to slip, agitation creeping through his voice and shattering his typical polished and suave illusion of unflappable equanimity. He continues to scold Grim as he chases him around your station, gritting his teeth and losing his cool as the monster's cries of distress and denial ring through the entire room. Grim is an unrelenting little bastard who won't quit squirming. There isn't the slightest semblance of remorse or pity on his stupid, feline face, and Azul feels his resolve crack as he becomes utterly fed up with this spoiled brat's behavior. Grim continues to kick and howl his way through Azul's grip, determined to aid with your Alchemy project, but his clumsy movements start causing your potion to bubble and ripple in an unsettling manner. You shriek his name, begging him to just settle the hell down and be a team player.

It happens in a matter of seconds—a fizzling sound grabs your attention. You turn back around quickly and notice your reaction beginning to froth violently. Your eyes widen in horror and your mouth drops in disbelief. Azul notices your fear-wide eyes and immediately stops his futile efforts to reprimand Grim. In an instant, his gaze reflects the alarm in yours and the blood drains from his already pale cheeks. Grim runs out in a screaming huff as he exits in a frenzied flurry, knowing when to take a hint and make a clean getaway. At this point, the compound is pouring heavily from the top of the flask, spewing out onto the heating device and coating the table below. The chemical reaction is completely beyond your control now, its speed increasing exponentially, bubbling and exploding, kicking out thick, unmanageable clouds of murky pink and purple fumes. Within seconds, it covers the lab tables in an almost misty haze as you choke and sputter in a coughing fit, Azul gasping and choking right alongside you, panic flashing across his face. An eerie glow seeps through the thick liquid as a swirling mist appears from inside the glass. Without warning, it erupts directly toward the two of you before either of you have time to take cover—shattering the flask and showering the fronts of your faces and bodies in its noxious, intoxicating fluids. Both you and Azul choke out muffled yells and groans, the sticky, glittering mixture clinging to the fabric of your clothes and the exposed skin on your faces.

The next thing either of you register is Crewel's obnoxious bark as he spits out sharp commands to open the windows and clear out all the air from the room. Coughing, you gasp for fresh oxygen, suddenly becoming very aware of how fast your heart is racing. It thumps so hard and so forcefully inside of your ribcage that the noise reverberates loudly in your ears, overwhelming your senses. However, no amount of labored inhaling can free you from the toxic, vaporous gas; every molecule in your lungs has already been bombarded and completely overcome by the potion’s effects. As its intoxication takes hold of you, a wicked fever seems to roar within you, followed by a horribly slow heat that makes your limbs ache. Every orifice of your body is saturated by the miasma—liquid slips between your lips, gushing down the front of your body to coat your exposed neck and chest. You taste the surprisingly sweet potion on the inside of your mouth; its taste lingers sweet and tacky on the flat of your tongue, coating your throat. You'd panic that you just consumed some horrific cocktail with traces of corrosion or stomach-rotting acid, if it weren't for the fact that Crewel seems more frustrated than concerned for your well-being. Rather than damaging you, whatever substance was expelled seems to be having quite the opposite effect; you feel your body becoming more energetic, your head becoming lighter, and a bubbling rush of warmth seems to radiate all over from the inside out, changing your physiology into a fertile garden in need of sowing. Adrenaline rushes through you and awakens your basal instincts, forcing you to acknowledge every excruciating detail of your body in an erotic manner. Arousal slithers through your veins like venom, poisoning all remaining thoughts and rationality, as a throbbing, almost blinding wave of pleasure overtakes your body. You become intensely, achingly aware of your physical needs, and all those needs center upon an impassioned desire to be filled, stretched, and seeded full—the frantic urge to be bred nearly splits you in half and makes your lower belly cramp in a hot flash of want. For a second, you hear Azul stutter something to you, his voice wavering on the verge of cracking with the desire that the aphrodisiac had triggered. You lock eyes with Azul, pupils blown wide as lust makes his oceanic gaze shimmer. The front of his slacks have grown embarrassingly tight with the straining girth of his aroused cock. You meet his clouded eyes, almost embarrassed by your wanton thoughts and the desperate throbbing between your thighs.

It is only a split second of recognition, a blurry, sweaty haze of unfathomable passion, before your shared moment is interrupted. Crewel shouts at you to look him in the eyes, snapping you out of your sexual frenzy, even if only for a split second. He stares at you, his gray-streaked hair framing the contoured features of his face as he cocks an eyebrow. The elder gives your flushed skin and trembling body a once-over.

"Just as I thought. It's a dopamine-based aphrodisiac. At least nothing fatal or life threatening, but enough to send you both into a delirious, euphoric-fueled rut," he assesses calmly, unfazed. "What's more, the way the explosion altered the structure of the compound has made its properties even more potent and uncontrollable. In terms you incompetent pups will understand, we're past the stage of antidote or reprieve, and you both have mere moments before the hormones will reach maximum capacity and you two will need to find some private location to release the effects..." He trails off. From his expression, you can tell there is more he would like to add to the situation, yet a worrisome crinkle furrows his brow as his eyes remain on Azul, as though assessing whether the situation is really as under control as he wishes. "Both of you bad dogs listen carefully. Do not even dare to even breathe a word of what transpired here—you are to wait in isolation for five to eight hours until its effects wear off. Under no circumstances should you share physical contact with anyone else for the remainder of the day." He holds Azul's gaze longer than necessary, silently threatening him not to take advantage of this situation—but Azul seems far too caught up in the spell and too infatuated by the burning image of you, sweating, panting, and splayed before him.

"Should anyone at all realize that the two of you have taken any sort of love potion or been afflicted in this manner, it could create a massive scandal, and I'll punish you both so mercilessly for causing such an indiscretion, you'll be licking my boots in front of the entire school!" his deep voice booms in threat. "Have I made myself understood, dear pets?" Crewel snaps, the sting of his whip making both you and Azul wince and nod profusely. He leads you and Azul to the decontamination area of the lab, ushering you two into separate stalls so you can change into fresh, dry garments and wipe off the evidence of the explosion from the potion. When you both emerge, it takes Crewel less than a second to glance from the massive bulge straining against Azul's clothing, to where your heaving, quivering chest is spilling over the low neckline, your nipples hard and pressing obscenely through the thin fabric. He glares down his nose at the two of you in distaste.

"Five to eight hours," he hisses, eyes narrowing, almost sizing you and Azul up like he's waiting for one of you to give in to the pressure of the aphrodisiac. He throws open a back door, gesturing for you and Azul to disappear. Azul leaves first, a flushed, jumbled mess of conflicting emotions that are only intensified as he can feel every agonizing beat of his aroused heart pulse in the heat of his hard dick. You follow closely behind, but before you can cross the doorway, Crewel shoots his hand out to grip you by the upper arm, turning you to him as he towers over you, giving you an intense glare before sighing and pulling a small vial of bluish, iridescent potion from his bag and thrusting it into your hands.

"Since I know you won't be able to resist such a delectable temptation from that damn fishy bastard," his words drip with annoyance as he continues, "at least be safe, Pup. Go have a nice screw if that's what you really desire. The serum I just gave you is a contraceptive—just one sip and you will have full reproductive control, in case Azul isn't a decent man about his desires." You blink up at him in utter bewilderment. "Under no circumstances will I allow my star pupils to fall prey to the temptations and consequences of unprotected intimacy in the midst of this reckless hormone rush... I can't allow something like this to affect you or your ambitions. My students can only go to greater places." You feel his eyes burning with concern as he brushes your cheek, sending you a warning in his eyes and urging you to please think it through and consider it. "You are interested in Azul, are you not? I won't allow you to get involved in anything you don't consent to. If you don't feel safe, I can escort you straight to Ramshackle dorm and I will handle Ashengrotto myself." His stare, once cold and imposing, is now warm with protective care, as he looks you up and down with a gentle softness you didn't expect from your professor. The paternalistic expression on his face strikes your soul and pulls on your heartstrings a bit. After all, it's the type of support you feared was lost to you once you found yourself trapped in Twisted Wonderland with no hope of ever seeing your family again. With all the gentleness of a father, he squeezes your shoulder and gazes deeply into your eyes. You assure him that it's okay, you trust Azul. Nodding, your professor finally allows you passage out the door.

You had barely made it beyond the courtyard doors before Azul approached you with a sickly sweet, almost giddy look on his face. His steel-blue irises burned bright with anticipation, accompanied by a hint of something dark and salacious flickering in the shadows. The corners of his lips pulled taut, curling upward in a devious smile. A tremulous shudder passed through you and prickled up your spine at the thought of those hypnotizing eyes studying you while you lay enraptured beneath him, completely at his mercy. As he takes a few tentative steps toward you, his right hand glides and rests softly on your hip, making you gasp with surprise, your heartbeat fluttering and pounding deafeningly in your ears. Azul leans close to your ear, his breath coming out in hot, rapid pants, a carnal excitement that threatens to spill over and devour you whole. You swallow in nervous expectation, hardly daring to look into his lustful gaze. With his elegant index finger, he lifts your chin up and you are left gasping and flushed beneath him, lips parted to beg him for more as his gentle caress lingers. He flashes a devilishly handsome smile before tracing your lower lip with a seductive slowness. "Please, allow me to escort you back to Octavinelle where I can properly tend to you and your condition," the breathiness of his voice and his lack of composure cause your clit to throb, your inner walls pulsating, pleading to be stretched and ravaged. His lecherous advances and insinuations combined with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins is making you so aroused, even standing close to him is threatening to make you cum. The very fabric of his essence seems to burn a shade darker—there is a terrifying intensity to his ardent desire for you, yet also a rawness and exposure you hadn't seen on his usually suave and polished facade.

Your whole body flushes when your gaze lands upon the size of his aching erection, an impressive tent straining tightly against his immaculate slacks, begging for attention through the dark material of his trousers. There is a manic, primal gleam that's spreading rapidly across his entire visage; he looks rabid with uncontainable greed, and you shudder at the thought that Azul will use your body to satisfy his own dark and twisted curiosities. "Please... It's the least I could do. After all, our most unfortunate situation is all due to my own recklessness," Azul pleads. His tone of voice is unwaveringly convincing in its sweet charm, yet you cannot escape the licentious twinkle that betrays his intentions, eyes ablaze with passion and lips quivering at the thought of making you his forever.

"Please... Just let me serve you and tend to your every whim," he begs. Even though the tone of his voice suggests innocence, you're reminded once more that Azul Ashengrotto believes the true intent in a plea is only to benefit his own ambitions—how ironic, then, that you find yourself overwhelmed with the desire to listen to the velvety cadence of his whispered sweet-nothings until you orgasm multiple times around the girth of his hard dick. Before you can speak, he reaches out and threads his fingers between your own. It was impossible to say no to the lilting honey of his tone, nor was there any will to fight as his firm and commanding hands ushered you towards the teleportation door. He practically pulls you into the mirror with him, and with a twinkly, delighted laugh, his covetous hand grasps you harder than ever as the portal draws closer, his eyes and touch almost reverential—eager, desperate, craving. The surface of the mirror swallows both of you up as the shadows distort the edges of your vision. The whole world spins around you both before the smell of the sea overwhelms your senses—the crispness of ocean air fills your lungs, and a feeling of cool relief washes over your flushed skin. In seconds, Azul is shoving you into an elevator and hitting the button to his suite. When the metal doors slide open, he gently shuffles you forward as he urges your body closer and closer toward his bedroom.

After his dorm door slams shut, your bodies mindlessly work to free the other's of their pesky and offending clothing, eager and restless fingers tearing and ripping at each article as though your lives depended on it. As each piece of clothing is discarded on the floor, new heated skin presses desperately into another as your erotic moans reverberate through the air. It feels electric, the way your sensitive, exposed bodies seek each other out, pawing and grasping at any available flesh and kissing any naked skin you can reach. Your hot, yearning mouth hungrily seeks Azul's for an urgent, feverish kiss—it is sloppy, desperate, almost savage as you share the intensity of your lusty feelings, gasping into each other's mouths, sucking, nibbling, tasting the sweet and sticky aphrodisiac concoction still lingering on both of your tongues. When Azul finally sheds his trousers, his painfully erect member juts out, throbbing and eager, bouncing happily and proudly as it quivers with eagerness. His knees weaken at the sudden release of the tension he'd suffered since the accident, the air a bit brisk against the heat of his erection, which begs to nestle itself securely into an inviting heat and fill your womb with the lusty seed it desires to spurt forth. His cock is ruddy and reddened, and his sack hangs swollen and tight with pent-up pressure. He doesn't think it possible for it to throb and swell even larger, yet its angry head and veins grow dark and twitch from his hot blood pumping. His hand mindlessly falls to his cock, and at the first stroke to his aching member, a needy whine catches in his throat. There is no time for shyness or apprehension. Whatever spell you were both under was driving you forward—like two planets caught in the gravity of an irresistible force, each gravitationally pulled toward the other with no means to stop. The rational part of his brain has been overwhelmed by an urgent instinct. Azul knows without a shadow of doubt that the only cure for this overwhelming haze of sexual depravity is to thrust himself deep inside the hot, velvety cunt of his precious lab partner.

Next thing you knew, you were pushed roughly, falling backwards before connecting against the smooth, luxurious blankets covering his mattress. He follows eagerly, letting his entire weight drop against your form and trapping your supple body beneath his. It was then, right then, when Azul found that the feeling of his aroused cock pressing against your thigh was unbelievably divine—a warm and pleasant tingling sensation spreading all over his hot, hard shaft and emanating out from his loins. With a contented hum, Azul can't resist the urge to buck his hips against your warm skin, stroking his arousal a little further, groaning at the exquisite friction. What a delicious sight you are—all nude and aroused—splayed and exposed across his bed. The effects of the potion have left you looking thoroughly wrecked, legs open, dripping and hot with an aroma so alluring, it nearly knocks the air out of his lungs. You are positively lovely, just as he'd always dreamed, with your petals unfurled and beckoning, enticing him further and drawing him in as your soft moans coaxed his cock in closer. To see you writhing and panting, the flush of your skin as you burned with longing for him...it was exactly as he'd always wanted it, almost as though someone had crafted the perfect image just to fulfill his darkest wishes. A surge of erotic fantasy comes upon him, and Azul's breath hitches in his throat as he ponders, briefly, about your womb filled with his seed, his beautiful angelfish round with child. He wants nothing more than to unceremoniously bury himself as deep within as he can, to push his thick, pulsating shaft as far as you could manage and stay buried to the hilt for days. His body quivers with excitement as a particularly vulgar dream reenters his mind. He had longed, always, to possess a most lascivious power over you—the power to make you writhe and squirm in bliss, and more importantly, in total and unbreakable dependence and submission for him—the neediest, sluttiest mess imaginable. Perhaps he'd have to thank Grim later for consequentially bringing about this fortunate chain of events.

Azul begins stroking himself fully, unabashed in his view of the sight before him. You don't protest the show. In fact, a high pitched, whimpery moan escapes you as you bite into your thumb to stifle the volume, but the sound is not missed, the harsh pang in his cock proof enough. After some thought, he realizes that he much preferred when you had been writhing and moaning quite uninhibitedly a moment earlier. You shift uncomfortably underneath his heated gaze as his eyes drink in every little curve, every little wrinkle and fold of your dripping pussy. Your toes curl inward and the ache deep within you demands attention. "You're so perfect, my little angelfish. Your body is exactly as I imagined," his saccharine voice admits as he leans forward, letting his fingers dance across the swell of your breasts. His left hand cradles your jaw and throat as his right continues its delicate massage across the plush pillow of your breasts, toying with the perked nubs of your nipples as his thumbs swirl small circles against the delicate flesh.

Azul's gentle touch ignites flames under his fingertips that follow his descent down to the juncture of your legs. The first brush against your swollen bundle of nerves and slit has your spine arching upwards, making his cock throb even more painfully, stiffening under the visual of your trembling body. A whine escapes and your hips grind involuntarily, the heat building intensely as his fingers begin to experimentally spread your folds slowly, running the tip of a finger from your core to the hood of your pearl. Without warning, Azul swipes upwards, expertly pulling back the hood and exposing the raw, sensitive flesh of nerves underneath, pinching down on the fleshy bud and causing you to yelp loudly in shock. With a satisfied grin, his forefinger begins to toy and tweak the hardened bud, rubbing gentle, rhythmic patterns over and over against the bundle as a chorus of delightful, high-pitched squeals fill his dormitory. After a few more ministrations, his hands continue down, delving his fingers straight into the moistened and heated opening, swiping up the slick mess you had coated his palm in. Two long fingers deftly slip right between your folds, caressing their way around your labia, your wet walls clenching around his fingertips desperately. "This wetness, for me?" Azul chuckles wickedly, crooking his fingers upward and brushing your g-spot with a knowing curl of his fingers, sending you spasming, gasping, and writhing in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering wildly. "Oh, my dearest—so precious, my angelfish. That's it, so beautiful, just for me..." His voice drips with lecherous intent, his body moving without even the slightest hint of hesitation as though you were merely an extension of his own and not even a separate entity. Your wetness coats his fingers easily as Azul keeps sliding his fingers into your wet heat until the pads of his fingers touch all your deepest, hidden places, causing more sweet moans to fall from your lips and echo through his room. He scissors and curls his digits inside, stroking you slowly as though wanting to feel every bump, crease, and ridge along your walls, claiming his ownership over your deepest parts with a sinister delight.

A pressure builds and teeters precariously right at the precipice—the curling of his digits work feverishly to milk every drop of pleasure he can from your shuddering body, the warm flood of wetness drenching his eager fingers and making his head fall back with a sensuous moan. He continues with his relentless assault against your pussy, whispering filthy compliments about how badly he wanted to fuck you and how sexy it is when you take his fingers so well. Your legs flutter open wider, inviting his slim and nimble digits deeper within you, fucking them vigorously as your release begins to pool, rising closer to the boiling point. The aphrodisiac grips its poisonous talons deeper into your mind, warping and bending everything into an unshakable desire to submit yourself and your pleasure to the hands of the devious sea creature above you. He leans down, his silvery eyes roving over your face in an intense appraisal, his features drawn in with concentration, mapping out how to unravel you—there wasn't an emotion or micro expression that slipped past his vision as he carefully considered all the factors of how best to please and overwhelm your body with incomparable rapture. There isn't anything else beyond the present—no outside forces, nor worries about the consequences of being intimate. There's simply no room in your mind to think at this point, the cloudiness of the effects rendering your body vulnerable—you give yourself up entirely. He drinks up every breath, every shake and shiver, as he continues calculating your climax, relishing in each tiny noise or action he drew from you, meticulous with the acquisition of your bliss.

"Yes. Give in." he laughs maniacally, his face fully consumed in the intense madness of his lustful insanity. "Give in to every sensation. Let me drive you wild... Do as I command and cum," Azul demands you through his laughter, his breathing rapid and heavy as he watches your eyes rolling back. He moans in awe as the loud, slick sounds of his hand filling your soaking cunt meet his ears and a deep flush travels across his collarbones. His own needy cock leaks, eagerly anticipating what's next as its engorged state bulges obscenely, its every vein throbbing with virile desperation. Your high-pitched moans continue for some time as his pace stays fast, until you can finally feel your entire body tensing up, the fire coiling inside your gut ready to explode any moment. Everything builds higher and higher to the peak, every muscle and nerve fiber in your body primed to receive that last push that would send you catapulting over the cliff. As he feels your walls tremble, Azul moans along with your high-pitched wailing. A deranged smile stretches across his face and his silver eyes fill with amusement and fascination. 

Azul leans into your ear, whispering sweet nothings mixed with commanding, demanding words to finally succumb, "That's it...Let go..." He twists and digs deeper, stroking the perfect places inside you, hitting the correct spots relentlessly in an overload of mind-bending, debauchery-fueled, electric-spark pleasure, forcing your senses to dissociate from reality. His thrusting hand matches the frantic racing of his own heart, unable to keep the carnal fever down. "Give in... submit yourself fully, and surrender that orgasm. It's mine. I've worked for it, and now it belongs only to me." He whispers in a devilish growl, nibbling on your ear as his strokes become rougher, harder, faster—you can hardly stand the overwhelming force of your pleasure before its sweet relief crashes like waves. A broken moan leaves your mouth, a pure exaltation of uncontrolled passion. Noises come tumbling out and spilling over until you finally dissolve into a messy orgasm, shrieking his name in pleasure as his hand slows its motions but doesn't stop, keeping its pressure steady and rocking the whole of your existence until your mind goes blank. "Such a good, obedient angelfish, giving me all of your sweet, succulent cum... all for me, yes?" Azul hums sweetly, teasingly. "Oh, this is so precious," he sighs, feeling the quaking and trembling of your fluttering walls. His expression melts into one of deep satisfaction and pride.

"There you go, my lovely angelfish. Just as I said I would," Azul croons. Without another word, his hand, wet with your desire, abandons its ministrations, pulling from your depths with a slick pop, leaving your empty cunt to tremble from his absence. Azul brings his fingers to his mouth for a lewd taste test, licking the juices from his hand as a self-indulgent smirk plays upon his lips. As he rolls the digits around his tongue, sampling the essence of your cunt, a sharp groan rumbles deep from within his chest, the vibration coursing down his spine and directly into his throbbing member. Even as his breath grows heavy from the feeling of his needy cock, the smug, triumphant smirk doesn't disappear. He enjoys the honeyed, tangy sweetness and savors the lingering sensation on his taste buds—another string attached, making it utterly impossible for him to let go. A low chuckle is heard from deep in his chest, dark and hauntingly mirthful. From his pleased sigh, you could easily read the insatiable hunger growing within his gleaming eyes—clearly the lust in his loins has only been ignited further—a starving, manic beast hungry for even more from your yielding form, an insatiable craving that can't be satiated so easily. His cock visibly twitches, begging for him to mount you and thrust his painfully aroused length as far as he can manage deep into your eager, spasming pussy. The aphrodisiac courses through his veins with all the potency of a tropical storm, whipping every nerve into a frenzy as the instinct takes hold in Azul's most primordial thoughts and drives all those cravings with an irrepressible urgency—he simply has to get your pregnant. Azul's cheeks flush with a reddish-pink shade as he fixates on you, the hunger in his gaze absolutely feral, filled with a single-minded lustful determination to breed you.

When your eyes meet his maddened, love-struck stare, you are overcome with the same desperation radiating from your womb, urging to be stuffed and claimed by his thick load. At last, the two of you had connected in this all-consuming fire—a conflagration of desire so severe and a love so encompassing that both of you could do nothing more than dance on the ashes and burn with the flames. In that moment of recognition, an irresistible, bewitching aura emanates from him and mesmerizes you as the air of mystery dissipates from his visage, the eroticized specter of the fearsome and dangerous, devious mogul melts away to reveal the raw intensity of the young man underneath, exposed in all his ardent, unfettered passions. Here stands Azul, naked with vulnerability, desiring only a love that no other has been able to truly give. He's always tried to prevent access to his real emotions, afraid of the kind of cruelty they would reap upon him if they were found. He didn't believe himself to be worthy of their regard, let alone capable of receiving someone's genuine affections. With you, though, there were none of his signature theatrics, no polite deflection, nor charming evasiveness; he gave you full permission to view him and all of his repressed feelings on full display. An open book, Azul trusts you enough to expose his heart fully, so transparent in his neediness. Since he brought you to his bedroom, there was never the slightest hint of deception in his tone—not once had he attempted to distract you, nor used a tactic or trick. Perhaps his true intentions for getting close to you were more admirable than you thought, his desperation to get close to you was merely just a pining for your love rather than a sordid trick. His earnest, loving gaze, combined with the grip of your desire, makes something finally shift within, like the turning of the tide—a sense that it was fated for you to fall and crash so desperately, madly, and completely for him—a long-awaited inevitability, just as he had already done for you long before this Alchemy accident. Azul was an adoringly gentle yet brutally powerful force, a pillar in your life you can lean into without hesitation. All of your fears, worries, and frustrations are suddenly null, evaporating into the thin air of Octavinelle, carried into the gentle waters outside the window and disappearing into the seas.

Nothing is more erotic than seeing his carefully maintained veneer crumbling before you and letting himself fall apart at the seams. No longer hiding his desires or his ambitions for you, Azul's lusty hunger has you excited, aroused, and turned on like never before. You return his lustful, hazy expression and Azul is drawn right into the softness of your inviting stare. Your mouth parts to allow a needy moan to pass as you buck your hips slightly, inviting him to finally claim your body as his, a beautiful sacrifice you're eager to make for a beautiful siren such as him. With a deep, lewd groan, Azul pushes off your trembling body, propping himself onto his knees and groping at your chest, making you mewl. There's no trace left of the smooth businessman persona, not even a hint of it lingers when his wet mouth kisses at your mounds and his large hands explore the contours of your curves, his fingertips desperately memorizing the way you're put together, tracing every bit of available flesh. His eager tongue swirls at your peaked nipples, moaning in appreciation and delight. Your mind is being swallowed by a bubbling wave of bliss that has no end as his hand trails across your hips, his touch is as gentle as a ripple in the water. With a shyly embarrassed flush and a sigh of wanton abandonment, you surrender entirely to him—letting the sea creature drown you in ecstasy, deeper and deeper, into the endless ocean. He caresses your stomach gently, the calloused pads of his fingers exploring the sensitive skin where he knows your womb lies. Your heart stumbles as his lips twist upward in an impish smirk at the thought of all the cum he's soon going to pump straight into the cavity. He palms your belly, which would soon carry his progeny as an inevitable result of this union, imagining his angelfish's stomach rounded and taut with his unborn child, perhaps, even more than once—Azul's thoughts are full of fantasies about filling you and fucking your pretty little womb over and over until he succeeds and you're blessed with his babies. Azul hums at the image of your pregnant body, worshiping the slope of your thighs and rubbing his hands up your waist and the undersides of your breasts. Azul knows that even if it doesn't work right away, he is more than prepared to breed you again and again as many times as necessary. He is more than certain you'll eventually give him a consortium of little octopus-human hybrids. After all, you'd offered yourself up in the end. Who was he not to take what was freely given?

He grasps the back of your knee to prop up your leg in the air, shifting closer. In one fell swoop, your tender thighs are flung open, revealing your glistening cunt. Azul moans, running the rough pad of his finger right up the slit of your lips. You're already a mess, his slick hand had not been able to satisfy your heat at all, it only created a further yearning deep within that could only be satisfied by his aching cock. Azul settles against the fronts of your thighs, letting the stiff heat of his bulging erection nestle against the dripping lips of your cunt, already poised and eager for insertion. The anticipation causes the two of you to tremble slightly at the intimacy, your lips wet and sticky as they run against the length, his cock drooling freely from the tip and leaking beads of sticky, precum fluid right across your folds. With one more affectionate, sweet peck against the corner of your lip, and another one right upon your forehead, Azul slowly glides inside. A shared cry of euphoria leaves your mouths simultaneously as Azul buries the full length of his throbbing cock into your sopping entrance, thrusting powerfully to hilt balls-deep. The pure, erotic rapture of finally consummating your love floods both of your veins. His dick is filling you in the most indescribable way and stretching your cunt so deliciously that stars appear behind your eyes. A glorious symphony of relief sings in your blood while his hard girth massages your innermost walls as though he were meant for no other—like he was perfectly made to be the puzzle piece filling your immaculate pussy. You both gasp sharply in unison as the sensation sends tremors down his shaft. Every vein, ridge, and inch of his length drags deeply with each thrust as he grinds you thoroughly, bringing your clits into tantric connection and rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth in perfect time with the rocking motion. Each snap of his hip makes the two of you share a joyful sob as he pleasures you in the most divine manner.

A low and sinful groan passes through your lips as your hands grip him tighter, begging him to increase his momentum and pace. Azul's hands clutch you in a tight embrace, his chest to yours with every inch of his hardness fully embedded into your velvety passage, sending white-hot sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest recesses of your innermost being, triggering the sudden rush of a climax that is starting to rise to its precipice. Azul groans as your juices run down his balls, pooling around his sack and providing more lubrication for his relentless drive inside of you. You clench and flutter around him, squeezing your inner walls with every desperate urge for friction and movement, drawing Azul's eye right up to yours in a lusty daze. His body is coiling for release, ready to cum, and there's a glitter of utter happiness in his expression. His lips quiver with desire and he smirks as he feels you clamping and spasming around his rock-hard dick, begging him to breed you like the little slut that he secretly knows you are, all while knowing deep down you'd get so unbelievably plump and swollen with his hatchlings, he'd hardly be able to move his tentacles with all the kids crawling over him.

It's more intense, and far more electrifying than the filthy fantasies that had invaded his sleep every lonely evening whenever he gave in to his insufferable yearning for you. He'd envisioned this, over and over—what it would feel like to make you orgasm, just how satisfying it would feel to cum with you at the same time, and how heavenly it would be to stretch your cunt so snugly—and yet, in this moment, it surpasses his imagination exponentially, eliciting a complete flood of sensual pleasure all throughout his senses. Not even his wildest wet dreams had prepared him for the heady intoxication and undeniable high he experiences with you—being passionately and physically intertwined, wrapped around the most sublime euphoria that was possible—a wave so dizzying that there's absolutely no going back to life without the other once your bodies have succumbed and reached that ultimate, highest peak.

When Azul hits the point of no-return, his legs start shaking as though his limbs were going to fall off. His fingers tangle roughly in your hair as he drags your mouth closer to meet his. With each heavy thrust, he swallows every moan that erupts from your throat. His movements become less coherent, rougher, and disjointed as the strength of your cunt's embrace pulses tightly around his shaft and urges him toward the edge. Suddenly, an intense wave of satisfaction takes hold and shoots to the tip of his cock, pulsating violently in need to release its seed. Azul can't help but groan loudly into your ear as he slams his cock into you with ferocious strength, fucking the life and soul right out of your being while a high-pitched scream accompanies the splash and squelching noises of your pussy. Your mouth has gone slack, jaw dropping as you cry out his name and climax with such power that it whips you into a complete frenzy of desperation, sending your vision dancing with lights. You quake and shiver under the force of his fervor and ecstasy, writhing on the mattress and throwing your head backward to soak in your overwhelming, toe-curling rapture. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, pounding you fiercely as you wail and shatter with a rush of emotions so intense, you don't know if you will ever put yourself back together. A strained whine and a few sharp pumps later, a surge of hot, wet euphoric heat shoots from Azul's balls and spurts out in ribbons of his own spent climax as he spends his load of pearly cum directly into your waiting womb, splashing your tight channel with a continuous stream—painting every crevice of your silken, fluttering, vice-like depths a glossy white. Azul is unable to help himself as his hips start grinding into yours with slow rolls, fucking and stuffing every drop of his sticky cream deeply and ensuring it remains securely nestled in your folds. Every remaining bit of sexual tension floods out as though you'd been submerged in the most heavenly waterfall of pleasure imaginable. Azul whines weakly into the pillow and your moans join, eventually dissipating into a heavenly silence as you sink heavily back to reality.

Time slows to an almost stop and your vision gets a bit hazy and bleary as the aphrodisiac magic completely pulses away. You two lay side by side on the soft blankets, still in the bed and soaked with sweat. Neither of you move for quite some time. Just in the wake of your post-orgasm, everything becomes intensely surreal. You try to breathe quietly so Azul doesn't hear and as his head rests on your breasts. He, too, is heaving with difficulty, each inhale is a conscious decision. He clings tightly against you, hands threaded together like a lifeline, afraid to let go. One last sentence leaves his mouth—a whisper that could have easily been missed by anyone except for you. It was a question.

"Are we both in love?" Azul asks with such hesitance, you think maybe you've misheard his inquiry. He is lying right by your side. His face is dangerously close to yours, and the way his stormy, ocean azure eyes reflect every emotion swirling inside allows you to see the years of hurt that's plagued him. He's absolutely enchanted, like you are the perfect dream come true—everything he'd ever imagined in one living, breathing, precious human body—a lover so magnificent he could hardly comprehend. He studies your expression with awe and reverence. A look so intensely raw it burns right through your heart and lights up the space in your soul that you never before realized was reserved just for him. "Because I love you... Truly and deeply. So much that I don't know how it was possible, even," Azul admits freely, without the least hint of apprehension or nervousness. You can feel the intensity and honesty of his words radiate through his trembling fingertips, through the places where his naked skin touched yours—he doesn't try to mask the pure unadulterated warmth and delight that leaks through the shaky but firm expression on his flushed face.

A wide, cheerful and genuine grin breaks out against your features as you nod enthusiastically, and it is almost as though a heavenly, soothing light has poured over his entire world. It feels like a dream, a fairytale that is too good to be true. Yet here you both lie, doused in the magic of the concoction, clinging to each other and to that euphoric elation after giving in to the passions and the chemical bonds. It felt incredible, it felt natural and familiar and right. This wasn't anything artificial, rather the long overdue acknowledgement of feelings that were there all along—a kindling of romance that was never forced, but rather fanned to life after many days spent as Alchemy partners. After seeing each other every day, getting to know each other's quirks, and learning of each other's daily habits, the intimacy had bloomed and nurtured into something tender and real. The closeness the potion provided simply allowed the two of you the confidence needed to step across a boundary and pursue things.

"This won't be something short lived... you understand what I am saying, yes?" His tone has a tinge of fear creeping in and you can't help but stroke the outline of his cheekbones. This feeling will not end with a simple fuck, you knew that deep in the marrow. There will be more of that to come. In fact, the thought of it has your cunt pulsing, your sex aching at the idea. "I simply won't have you anywhere else but with me, and here in my dorm. I just won't be able to be happy otherwise..." Azul's voice quivers as the vulnerable sincerity flows.

"Yes, Azul. Yes, I understand and I feel the exact same," you chuckle and cradle his head. His blue eyes crinkle slightly from the beam across his lips, and Azul can't resist pulling you in for a feverish kiss, groaning from the rush. That familiar, sinfully blissful high is starting to take hold again, the rush of the aphrodisiac stirring something fiery back into a pleasant burn. The chemical’s grip on the two of you continues. After all, nothing will stop the magic from bringing you closer together. He murmurs a seductive promise into the curve of your throat that he won't stop until his load drips and slides right out of your swollen cunt—he's going to breed you the rest of the night and spill as much of himself deep within as he can. He has no doubt you're going to give him a child that will cement this loving bond permanently.

Listen I don't know HOW this HAPPENED, I DON'T understand how I wrote this much. I am DELIRIOUS and I need to go pick up some pizza for dinner, so I wish I could say more here but I can't right now. I'll update this part when I get back home. I just needed to get this out into the UNIVERSE. THANK YOU ALL!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED!!! <3333 Erica Malleleothreesome

[claramelooo]

Another day pampering you, my babies.

Enjoy it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat fem reader

Warning: +18, humiliation and corruption.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 4 - The Spider

Summary: You find out what happens when you test Wanda's limits.

Velvet Chains

On Your Knees

The clock on your bedroom wall read 4 a.m., and you stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. The exhaustion of the day should have knocked you out, but instead, your mind insisted on replaying the moment you encountered Wanda in your living room. Her smile—so controlled, so dangerously kind—seemed etched into your memory.

She was unlike anyone you'd ever met.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the warmth that crept up your body at the memory of how Wanda looked at you, hungry, as if she could see more than you were willing to reveal. But in doing so, another face surfaced in your mind.

Kate.

It was two years ago, during one of those suffocating summers. She was a temporary roommate, placed there because her dorm was being renovated. Her name was Kate, and you could never quite decide if you liked her or not. Kate was full of life, bold, with a mischievous smile that seemed to know all your secrets.

She teased you for weeks, mocking your shyness, challenging your seriousness. "You're so uptight," she would say, laughing, but there was something in her tone that felt... like an invitation.

When she finally leaned in and kissed you, it was soft and hesitant. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you followed an instinct you didn’t know you had, and for a few seconds, the world disappeared.

In that moment, as her lips brushed against yours, you felt something you had never felt before. It wasn’t just the natural nervousness of someone else’s touch; it was a heat, an electricity, something that spread through your veins like fire.

For a few seconds, the entire universe shrank to fit into that instant: the stars above, the warm summer breeze, the scent of mint on Kate’s breath, which seemed to mock you even as she kissed you.

But when she pulled away, laughing and wiping her lips like it was nothing, like it was disposable, something inside you broke. Not a small, harmless crack, but a deep rupture that left an echo.

You tried not to think about it in the weeks that followed. Tried to ignore how her touch lingered on your skin, how the sound of her laughter made you shiver even when she wasn’t around. You told yourself it was just a kiss, just a moment. But the words were hollow, devoid of the comfort you wanted to find.

The problem wasn’t Kate, not really. The problem was that kiss had pulled something out of you, something you had tried to hide at all costs. It was the silent acknowledgment that this was who you were, who you had always been, even if you had never dared to admit it.

And Kate knew. She knew and toyed with it because, to her, it was a game, a light joke to pass the time. But to you, it was everything.

You still remembered how she laughed the next day, saying how "maybe kissing girls wasn’t so different from kissing guys." You pretended to agree, forcing a smile that hid the turmoil inside you.

Now, years later, the memory still stung, but in a different way. It wasn’t just the pain of the moment anymore but the realization of how much it had shaped who you were now. Kate’s kiss showed you who you were but also reminded you of everything you couldn’t have.

Comparing Kate to Wanda now felt almost insulting. Kate was reckless and indifferent. Wanda, on the other hand, was... calculated. Where Kate wore charm like a mask, Wanda wielded it like a weapon.

But there was something else about Wanda that intrigued you: she made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way no one else ever had. When she spoke, her words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t the type to settle for less than what she wanted, and you knew that.

And that scared you.

The way Wanda looked at you, as if she were peeling back every layer of you with a single glance, was suffocating and electrifying. She was everything Kate never was: intense, determined, almost impossible to resist.

With Kate, you could pretend. Pretend the kiss meant nothing, that her laughter didn’t affect you, that your obsession was just a phase. Kate never realized the impact she had on you—or maybe she did, but it didn’t matter anymore.

With Wanda, it was a different story. There was no room for pretense with her. It was as if she saw through every lie, every attempt to hide what you felt, and that made you feel vulnerable in a way you never had before.

You couldn’t help but compare them, even though you hated to admit it. Kate played with you, treating your shyness like a harmless joke, but Wanda made a point of confronting you. Every word she said seemed carefully chosen to provoke you, to force you to react.

And you reacted.

It was inevitable. Her words stuck in your mind, echoing long after the conversation ended. It was as if she held a key to unlock doors inside you that you didn’t even know were locked.

With your thoughts racing, your alarm went off, making you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Facing your reflection in the mirror, you started thinking about what to wear. Skinny jeans? An oversized sweater? A skirt? Your right thumbnail was already sore from biting it while you thought.

As you styled your hair, you realized something: Wanda didn’t just make you feel seen; she made you want to be seen, combing through your strands in different ways, wondering which one would catch her attention.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what scared you the most. That you could want this. That Wanda could be the person to whom you finally surrendered completely.

You walked downstairs while trying to button the last button on your shirt, finding your dad sipping coffee from a mug that read “World’s Best Dad.”

"Who gave him that?" you thought, hiding a scornful smile. Clearly, they didn’t know your family dynamic.

Your dad noticed you and waved. “Good morning, dear. Your mother told me about your new job. I’m really glad you’re trying to be... normal,” he said, almost like a confession.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, even if he probably didn’t mean to be so cruel—or maybe he did. "Normal." That was the word your parents used for everything they expected from you but that never seemed to quite apply.

“Good morning, Dad,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral as you sat at the table.

“Normalcy is important, you know,” he continued, ignoring your attempt to end the conversation. “After everything... well, I think it’s good for you to have something to keep you busy. To distract your mind from... misguided thoughts.”

Your face flushed. The memory of Kate, the kiss, the words she whispered afterward, came rushing back, but you buried them quickly. This wasn’t the time. It wasn’t safe.

“It’s just a temporary job,” you said, focusing on the mug in front of you. “At the library.”

Your father frowned. “The library? Really?” He seemed confused, as if he couldn’t understand why anyone would work in such a... unexciting place.

“Yes,” you replied firmly. “It’s quiet and helps me focus on my studies.”

He pondered for a moment before shrugging. “Yale is still the goal, right? Don’t get lost in distractions.”

You nodded, but inside, the comment hit like a punch. Distractions. If he knew what was running through your mind—the thoughts you had when you were near Wanda—he would probably unravel.

Your mother entered the kitchen at that moment, holding a plate of toast, interrupting the conversation. “Darling, I hope you’re taking this seriously. Wanda is a very respectable woman. Don’t disappoint us.”

You swallowed hard at the weight of her expectations.

“Yes, Mom,” you said, keeping your expression neutral. “I’ll do my best.”

Your mother smiled approvingly, but there was something in her eyes, something critical, that made you want to shrink. “Good. We don’t want any more problems, do we? We’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

You knew exactly what she meant. They never spoke directly about what happened at the boarding school, but the silence was heavier than any words could be. To them, it was a stain, a flaw that needed to be corrected.

“I’ll try my best,” you replied, your voice low but firm.

When you finally left the house, the weight of the conversation still hung over you. But there was something else. Something at the back of your mind pushing you forward.

No matter what your parents thought or what they expected of you, there was a part of you that wanted more.

[...]

The library was empty when you entered, your footsteps echoing across the polished wooden floor. There was something almost comforting about the silence of the place, but that feeling vanished the moment you saw Wanda behind the counter, her gaze landing on you with surgical precision.

“Ah, my favorite student has arrived,” she said, her voice dripping with an artificial sweetness that sent chills down your spine.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I didn’t know there was a ranking,” you replied, stepping closer with a challenging smile.

“Of course there is,” she replied, leaning slightly over the counter. Her posture was almost casual, but her stare was unyielding. “And you’re at the top... for now.”

“I’m flattered, coming from the saintly Wanda Maximoff,” you said, giving an exaggerated bow, your tone dripping with mockery. You refused to back down—not this time.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, her expression intrigued by your response. “I see you’re feeling braver today.”

“I didn’t realize courage was part of the curriculum for working here,” you retorted, moving closer and dropping your notebooks onto the desk with a soft thud.

She smiled, but there was something dangerous behind it, as though she was testing how far you would go. “It’s not, but considering your tone... perhaps it should be. And maybe you need a reminder of your place, Dekta.” Wanda’s gaze sharpened, her words a deliberate challenge.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms. “Oh. My place? I thought it was here in the library, working and studying. Or is there somewhere else you think I belong?”

You smiled inwardly, watching her jaw tighten—relishing the satisfaction of knowing you had rattled her, even if just a little.

Wanda stepped around the counter, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. “Perhaps I need to spell it out for you. It seems you haven’t yet grasped how things work here.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me,” you replied, your voice laced with theatrical sarcasm, feeling heat rise up your neck.

She stopped directly in front of you, close enough that you could feel her breath—something faintly minty and cool. “I am the authority here. You’re under my supervision. That means you follow my rules.”

“Rules?” You raised an eyebrow, defiant. “Funny, because so far, all I’ve seen you do is try to intimidate me. Is that one of your ‘rules,’ Ms. Maximoff?”

Wanda’s smile faltered for a brief moment, and in her eyes, you caught a glimpse of something raw. Anger? Frustration? Something else?

She stepped even closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

Inside, you were panicking, but you held her intense gaze. “I don’t think, Wanda. I know.”

Her breath hitched for just a second before the shadow of a smile tugged at her lips.

“Do you have any idea how insufferable you’re being?” she asked, her voice low, her eyes strangely soft considering the tension in the air. “Because honestly, Dekta, I’m seriously considering putting an end to this right now.”

A chill ran down your spine, your hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the table in front of you. “End...?”

Wanda crossed her arms, her posture rigid. “The mentorship, the job. Everything. If you don’t know how to respect the person helping you, then maybe I shouldn’t waste my time.”

Suddenly, you felt the weight of your parents’ disapproving stares, heard the cruel words from your boarding school teachers, the bitter voice of Kate saying, “I hate you.”

“No!” The word burst out before you could stop it, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed to echo through the library. You tried to steady your voice, soften it. “Please, Wanda... Don’t do this.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing at you. “Why not? You seem to enjoy testing my limits, so maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”

Panic tightened your chest, and the conversation with your parents earlier replayed in your mind—the crushing weight of their expectations. Losing this wasn’t an option. “I need this job. Please, Wanda, I... I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful.”

She took a step closer, her face dangerously near yours. “If you really need it, Dekta, then prove it. Show me you understand what respect means.”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning as tears escaped before you could stop them. “How?”

Her lips curled into a cold, almost cruel smile. “On your knees.”

Your breath caught, your eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m sure you heard me perfectly well, Dekta,” she said, her voice unyielding. “If you want this mentorship and this job so badly, then get on your knees. Show me you know your place.”

The floor seemed to give way beneath you, the shock and humiliation burning your face. Every instinct screamed at you to walk away, but the weight of your circumstances was crushing. Your family, your plans—everything depended on this.

“Wanda, this is...”

“This is what?” she cut you off, her tone sharp. “Unfair? Inappropriate? I don’t care. Decide now, Dekta. Either you accept my conditions, or you walk out that door and explain to your parents why you always fail.”

Your throat tightened, and with trembling hands, you slowly sank down, feeling every fragment of your dignity slip away as your knees touched the cold library floor.

“Please,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Wanda tilted her head, her gaze scrutinizing you as if judging every fiber of your being. “Louder.”

“Please, Wanda, don’t take this away from me,” you repeated, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face like a child’s.

She remained silent for a moment, her predatory stare never wavering. Then, finally, she stepped forward. “Clean my boots.”

With tears blurring your vision, you crawled toward her feet, feeling your pride shatter into pieces. Reaching her boots, you pulled a blue handkerchief from your pocket and wiped the perfectly clean leather.

“With your tongue,” Wanda commanded, her tone cold and unyielding.

You looked up at her, shock evident in your gaze, and there it was—that damn smirk playing on her lips.

Wanda watched you kneeling before her, and though her expression remained calm and composed, like a mask of serenity, the turmoil beneath was undeniable. There was something deeply intoxicating about the sight of your submission—something she couldn’t, or perhaps didn’t want to, control.

Every movement you made, every tear that fell, stirred something primal within her—a blend of power and desire that burned in a dark corner of her mind. It was more than she had imagined. The reality was infinitely more potent. You weren’t just a conquest; you were a masterpiece she was sculpting with words and gestures, shaping you to fit into the world she controlled.

And it excited her. Not just carnally but through the absolute power she felt, the control she had over every breath, every decision you made in that moment.

“Go on, pet. I don’t like repeating myself,” she said, her voice rougher now, which only made your mouth water.

As your tongue met the smooth leather, you swore you saw Wanda’s knees buckle ever so slightly.

“That’s a start. Now, get up and get back to work.”

You rose quickly, wanting nothing more than to escape her sight. Every movement was loaded with shame and resentment. As you returned to your desk, you could feel her eyes on you, and as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you knew she was savoring every moment of it.

The mid-shift was almost over, and Wanda remained where she was, her eyes fixed on you as you organized some books in the children’s section. She should feel guilty—she knew that. A part of her, buried under layers of rationalizations and desire, whispered that this was wrong. But she ignored that voice with frightening ease.

Everything about you was an intoxicating distraction for Wanda. The way you avoided eye contact, the small hesitations in your movements, even the nervous tremor in your voice—every detail was a reminder of the control she held over you, even if you hadn’t yet admitted it to yourself.

As you sat back down, trying to focus on your studies, Wanda moved silently to a nearby shelf, pretending to reorganize some books. But her eyes never left you. The way your fingers tapped on the table, the furrow of your brows as you concentrated—it was all incredibly captivating.

She couldn’t stop. It always started innocently enough: a stray thought here, a fleeting memory there. But inevitably, her mind returned to you. How would your face look if she touched you differently? If she pushed you further out of your comfort zone, how far would you go to please her?

This obsession was new, an intensity she had never experienced before—not even with Vision. He had never made her heart race like this, never ignited this voracious hunger for power and domination. With you, everything felt different—darker, more visceral, more... real.

Wanda knew she was crossing boundaries—not just yours, but her own. Yet there was something irresistible about the idea of shaping you, testing you, possessing you in ways no one else could. It was wrong, of course. And yet, she wondered: if this was wrong, why did it feel so perfectly natural?

When you tilted your head, biting your lip in concentration, Wanda gripped the book in her hands more tightly than necessary. The thought of making you bite that same lip because of her made her take a deep breath, trying to regain control.

But control was something Wanda wielded well—and you, unknowingly, were already caught in her web.

She rose from her chair, her palms damp and her eyes glued to your figure.

Wanda walked toward you with slow, deliberate steps, the wooden floor creaking softly under the heels of her boots. Her fingers brushed absentmindedly against the spines of books, but her gaze never wavered from you. There was something different in her eyes now—not just desire or authority but a veiled tenderness, a touch of something maternal that made your skin prickle.

She stopped beside you, leaning in just enough for her scent to envelop you. Your body tensed at her proximity, but you didn’t dare look up.

“You’re so focused,” Wanda murmured, her voice low and soft, almost comforting but laden with something deeper. “That’s good. But you’re gripping that pencil so tightly… You’ll end up breaking it.”

Your hands trembled as you realized she was right. You immediately loosened your grip, almost as if her words had a direct hold over you.

“There’s no need to push yourself so hard, you know?” she continued, her voice now a whisper that tickled your neck. “I’m here to take care of you. To guide you.”

“Wanda, what—” You tried to turn, but gasped as you felt her lips brush against your ear.

“You’re so young…” Her desperate whisper sounded almost like a moan, making you exhale sharply. “So innocent,” she murmured, almost to herself, as her fingers lightly traced a path along your cheek. “You need someone to show you the world, to teach you what really matters.”

You finally lifted your eyes to hers, confusion and vulnerability clear in your expression. Wanda smiled, but it wasn’t the smile you expected. It was softer, almost indulgent, like a mother looking at a child who had just made a silly mistake.

“I know what you need,” she said, leaning even closer, her lips almost brushing your ear. “And I can give it to you, but you have to trust me.”

There was something in her tone—a blend of sweetness and command—that left you speechless. Your hands gripped the sides of your folder, trying to anchor yourself to a reality that felt like it was slipping away.

“Do you trust me, Y/n?” Wanda said, her breath brushing against your lips, making you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. Your noses touched, and your eyes locked in some kind of trance.

The silence of the library amplified every stimulus, making Wanda’s presence all-encompassing. “Yes,” you whispered.

Wanda slowly pulled back, a faint smile playing on her lips, leaving her presence to dissipate like a receding wave. But her warmth, her touch, her words lingered.

“Now, get back to your studies,” she ordered gently, though her gaze made it clear this was no request. “And remember, my girl… I’m always watching you.”

~*~

She is not innocent

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

[glamourscat]

୨ৎ Beautiful as...? BLLK edition

BACHIRA, CHIGIRI, BAROU, KAISER, RIN, ISAGI, REO, NAGI, SHIDOU

Bachira: beautiful as a fair carnival

His light and contagious smile can brighten a whole room. His presence, in a way, makes you feel like a child again. Running around and seeing the world through “naive” eyes. Staring off in space taken aback by the bright, colourful lights. High on way too much sugar. Seeing the beauty in life, aware that there are dangers and challenges out there, but for now, not knowing them is better than anything.

Chigiri: beautiful as spring

When the leaves come back, filled with life and green. Bright, vibrant flowers dot the grass. He is a splash of color that persists even on the darkest days, a lingering reminder that “everything will be okay.” The sun will shine again tomorrow.

Reo: beautiful as the ocean

The calm waves, the sea breeze and that distinctive seaside smell. The sand between your toes, the warm embrace of the sun and the cool water wrapping you in a blanket of shivers and warmth at the same time.

Shidou: beautiful as a museum

Different artists, different paintings, different forms of art. A carefully threaded puzzle filled with emotions, explosions of thoughts, liberty, and need. The need to scream, to ensure someone hears it. The need for a revolution. The hope that someone will remember you.

Kaiser: beautiful as a thunderstorm at night

Not everyone likes it, but many still enjoy it. The clouds fill the dark sky, illuminated by occasional flashes of lightning. It can give you chills just as it can give you comfort.

Isagi: beautiful as the moment after it stops raining

The smell lingers in the air, following you wherever you go. The sky starts to open up, grey clouds mixing with white and the sky is turning a lighter shade of blue. The faint sun rays start to poke through, a welcome touch against your cold skin. The few drops of water still present on the leaves of the trees might, or might not, fall on your head as you walk under them.

Nagi: beautiful as heavy snow

That serene feeling of no school, no work, no worries. The streets filled with mountains of snow, cold yet inviting to jump into. At first glance, soft yet hard and firm. Playful and forgiving when it wants to.

Rin: beautiful as a summer night

Nothing is forever. Summer, just as it came, will end too. It’s the feeling of looking out of your window, smelling the scent that’s unique to summer. Hearing the night insects’ serenade in the distance as you look at the stars with nothing particular on your mind. There’s a nostalgia hitting you, you’re not sure why. Your chest feels a bit heavier and emptier at the same time. You find yourself closing your eyes to soak in this feeling.

Barou: beautiful as fire

Destructive in some cases, yet warm and comforting in others. Wild and untamable. You think you have the upper hand but one piece of wood too much and everything is ablaze. Only the most skilled know how to control it. Not tame it, but understand it. Being able to turn the wild, bursting flame into something softer, something that feels like home.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[sanemistar]

THE ONE I WANT

contents ★ dan heng x fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, marriage proposal, 0.8k+ wc. requested for my milestone event. synopsis ★ in which your longtime boyfriend surprises you by a sudden marriage proposal.

event m.list ★ hsr m.list

it was a memorable day that you were about to remember for the rest of your life, everything about it was so special to you. the weather was perfect that day in xianzhou luofu, sunny with a hint of cool, fresh breeze. you and your boyfriend were walking around the shops, trying out different foods and having a good time together just the two of you.

it wasn’t like you never spent any alone time with him for the past five years you’d been together for, but occasions like that were quite rare. because most of the time the rest of the astral express members were present, so by default you two would spend time your together with them. not that you had any issues with that, you’d gotten used to them and became friends with everyone.

so you were very happy doing simple, mundane things with dan heng and being able to spend some quality time with your beloved boyfriend, on a romantic date with just the two of you alone for the first time in a while. being with him had always been something you could never get tired of, you would spend an eternity with him if you could.

you weren’t really aware of how much time had passed by until you saw the sun beginning to fade away in the horizon, signaling the end of the day and your date. on one hand, you were standing there with your eyes being glued onto the beautiful sunset. watching the sky being painted in a mix of red, orange and purple shades. you were struck by the ethereal beauty of the scene in front of you, it was magical.

on the other hand, there was dan heng whom the only thing he seemed to focus on was you. his gaze was solely fixated on your beautiful face, watching your sparkly eyes twinkle as your lips parted slightly at the scenery in fascination.

to him, you’re far more beautiful than any sunset; more than anything in the world actually.

“looks like it’s time to go home, thanks for the lovely day.” you spoke softly as you tore your gaze away from the sky and looked at your boyfriend, only to find his deep teal eyes staring back at you. he held your hand gently, eyes caught in a deep gaze.

you then felt something cool against the skin of your finger, which had caused you to jolt momentarily before your eyes tore away from dan heng’s to look down on your finger, only to be left in complete shock and surprise. your jaw almost fell in awe seeing the diamond ring placed on your ring finger.

“i’ve been thinking about this, about us and our future together, for the longest time and,” he spoke softly, hands still gripping yours. the image of you and him had been living in his head for as long as ever. you waiting for him at home, cooking his favorite meals for him every day. the thought of having a domestic life with you made him feel all giddy and warm inside.

“i think it’s about time that we take the next step in our relationship and get married. because you’re the only one i want, i want to be with you forever.” he proceeded. leaning so close that your noses slightly brushed against each other.

“if i have to choose one person to spend the rest of my life with,” he paused for less than a second before adding. “it has to be you.” you felt a few tears fall from your eyes. which of course, were tears of joy. dan heng quickly let go of one hand and gently wiped them away as he began kissing the spots on your cheeks where the tears fell on.

and it was the same for you as well, it had to be dan heng. he whom your heart desired, the man whom you were ready to be with until you were both old and gray. you never wanted to imagine a world without him, you simply couldn’t even dare to bring your mind to.

“will you marry me?” and it was the fastest, easiest ‘yes’ you’d ever answered to a question in your life. he grabbed your hand gently, placing it close to his lips as he pressed a loving kiss on the back of your hand.

this time it was your turn to let go of his hand. you wrapped your arms around his neck and threw yourself into his arms as he lifted you up and swirled you around. none of you paid attention to the loud cheering sounds surrounding you, because at that moment it felt as if it was just you and him in the world.

you were more than excited to live the future you had always been dreaming about with dan heng by your side, always and forever.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @itoshivy @unriding

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Foxglove Downs Chapter 2: The Rescue

Pairing:Marcus Acacius x Lucius Verus x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Both men pull you in closer. While working with Marcus to rehab one of his horses, you both try to ignore the unspoken feelings between the two of you. Then there’s Lucius, surprising you with his newfound tenderness—rescuing you from a drunken mistake, offering his bed, and showing a side of himself you never expected. Warnings: Love triangle, horse talk, jealousy, pining, alcohol, flirting, smut (unprotected p in v), age gap (Marcus is in his 40’s, Lucius is in his 20’s). Reader is in her 30's, has hair, and has a nickname: Sunny. Words: 4,600

Foxglove Downs Masterlist Masterlist

Previous Chapter

—-

You’ve taken the same early morning walk down to Foxglove Downs every day for the past three years. You enter the stables greeting each one of your horses, stroking their soft muzzles and whispering affection into their ears. This is your favorite part of the day, feeding and caring for your horses as the world wakes up. The routine is always therapeutic; you love the quiet companionship of your horses. 

It’s midmorning by the time you finish and step outside, stretching your arms above your head and breathing in the fresh air.

A sleek yet unassuming black car pulls up the long driveway before parking next to where you stand. The driver’s side door opens, Marcus steps out, his body silhouetted against the morning light. You swallow as your heart skips a beat.

He looks every inch the seasoned horseman, his broad body clad in a dark green sweater and tan pants making his skin more golden.

“Good morning,” he calls out.

You smile, walking towards him. “Morning. Pretty early for Daisy’s appointment, aren’t you?”

“Wanted to get a session in with Barley this morning. Rome’s only a couple weeks away.” He stops in front of you, his brown eyes looking into yours. The air between you is warm, his broad body shields you from the cool breeze and the bright sun.

“How are you feeling about it?” you ask a little breathless from his proximity. 

The dimple you dream to touch, deepens as Marcus grins and nods. “We’re ready. Barley has been in great shape and jumping beautifully,” he responds proudly, his confidence and proficiency on full display.

“Good to hear,” you reply. "Can’t believe Barley was my first project and now he’s a world champion. It must feel amazing for you, I’m just the breeder and I’m proud.”

“It does, but you helped too, you’re the one who shaped him,” he says, his voice steady and warm. Like he’s carefully choosing each word he says to you. “You should feel very proud.”

“We’ll just call it a team effort,” you reply, waving your hand dismissively as you feel heat creep into your cheeks at his compliment. “Much like Daisy’s rehab.”

“Yes,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “Much like her rehab.”

He’s gorgeous, lit by the morning light shining around him, his skin glows an almost ethereal gold. His deep brown eyes are flecked with bronze, holding a world of emotions and intensity. The silver streaked waves of his hair are gently tousled by the breeze.

The silence settles between you, birds chirp in the distance, horse hooves echo across the pasture as stablehands exercise a few mares. 

You clear your throat feeling the heat of his eyes on you. “I should probably get some calls done,” you say, glancing down at your watch. “Meet you at the first practice ground at 2?”

“It’s a date,” he winks.

You can feel your heart beating against your chest as you turn and walk towards the clubhouse, feeling Marcus watch you the whole time.

—-

Every task seems impossible to accomplish as you wait for the minutes to tick by.

All you can think about are the countless moments you and Marcus have shared over the years. You had first met him when you were nineteen and he was thirty. He showed up after months of speculation he was moving to your town to train under the guidance of your father.

You remember the first time you saw him ride, his tall, thick frame moving in perfect harmony with his horse. He seemed to communicate with it at a level that went beyond mere training. You were in awe of him and his skills, mainly from afar, always far too intimidated by his presence.

As you got older, and were given more responsibilities, your paths crossed more and more frequently. Horse shows, auctions, events, charity galas, you found yourselves drawn to each other. You challenged each other, striving for excellence in all that the two of you did.

There were moments, long glances and lingering touches. Attraction sparking, hinting at a possibility of the two of you becoming something more… but always, one of you would pull back. Unwilling to risk the friendship and partnership that had become so integral to your lives and careers. 

Now, as you look out the window of the clubhouse and watch Marcus round the track on Barley, you think of the almost-kiss yesterday. The way your heart raced at how close he was, the wonder of what would happen if you didn’t step away… would you finally learn just how soft his lips are? You remind yourself that being cautious is better, crossing that line could ruin everything you had worked so hard to build upon the legacy of your parent’s.

—-

After what feels like an eternity, 2 PM finally arrives and you excitedly head towards the stables. You do your best to hide your anticipation for spending time with Marcus as you open Daisy's stall door and let her out.

“Hi girl,” you sweetly whisper as she happily whinnies and tosses her head.

Sensing eyes on you, you turn and see Marcus grinning as he leans against the entryway.

"What?" you ask, self-conscious under his gaze.

He shakes his head, his smile widening. "Nothing. Just admiring your way with her."

You duck your head, trying to hide your bashful smile from the compliment. "She’s a sweet girl.”

“Sweet, but sometimes stubborn.”

“Well, let’s hope she doesn’t mind everything we’re doing today,” you respond, applying Daisy’s halter and grabbing her lead. “Should we get started?”

Marcus nods. “Lead the way.”

You softly click your tongue, guiding Daisy along the path towards the practice ground, feeling Marcus’s eyes on you the whole walk.

—-

An hour of training and care passes by, Daisy responds enthusiastically to you, Marcus, and most of all, your handfuls of hay pellets. Marcus intently listens to your plans for her, nodding thoughtfully as you suggest adjustments to her training regimen.

He seems to be keeping a bit more distance than usual, as if he can't trust himself to be near you and he's also thinking about what might have happened if you hadn't stepped back yesterday.

Daisy gently lays her head on your shoulder as you coo into her hair letting her know she did a good job.

Marcus watches, his expression unreadable as you lead her back into the stable.

“Can’t thank you enough for lending your time to us,” Marcus says, his low voice soft.

“Of course, anything I can do to help,” you reply, warmth spreading through you at his sincerity. “Daisy deserves the best.”

“She does. So—uh,” he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Your heart stutters. “I.. I do. It’s my friend’s birthday party in the city later…”

He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of disappointment crosses his features. “Oh? I didn’t know you had plans.”

“Yeah, they keep trying to get me to go out,” you say quickly, trying to deflect the weight of his gaze.

“Sounds fun.” He shifts his weight and looks away for a moment, as if he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “I should… probably head out, I’ve been here almost all day.”

“Right,” you nod. “Have a good night.”

“Thanks. Though it seems like your night will be more eventful,” he responds with a soft smile before turning to leave.

As you watch him walk away, your heart sinks a bit more with each step he takes. It's becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the boundaries you've put in place.

—-

Your friends had been relentless in their efforts to finally pry you from the gated sanctuary of Foxglove Downs, and tonight's the night you finally acquiesced. If only they had known how long it’s been since you let loose and danced under flashing lights, feeling the rhythm thumping against your chest.

The club lights dance across your body, the liquor loosens your limbs and inhibitions. The cute guy who has been buying you drinks all night—Charlie? Chance? Chaplin?—runs his hand up your stomach, right below your breasts.

Chaplin's touch sends a shiver down your spine, but it's more unease than excitement. His fingers press into your skin as he pulls you closer, grinding against you to the beat. The room spins around you as blinking neon lights and undulating bodies flash around you.

Through the haze of alcohol and lights, you spot someone familiar across the dance floor—Lucius. His blue eyes lock with yours, widening with concern as he takes in the scene. He weaves through the crowd towards you, never breaking his eye contact.

"Mind if I cut in?" Lucius's voice carves through the music as he places a hand on Chaplin's shoulder.

"Actually, we were just—" Chaplin starts to protest, but Lucius cuts him off.

"I wasn't asking." Lucius's tone is direct, his stare unwavering. After a moment, Chaplin reluctantly releases you, disappearing back into the pulsing mass of dancers with a resentful glare.

Lucius's strong hands find your waist, steadying you as the room continues to tilt. He pulls you close, his body solid against yours.

"Are you okay?” his voice laces with concern as he looks you up and down before pulling you closer.

You let out a laugh, too drunk and overwhelmed to respond.

“I already talked to your friends. Let's get you out of here," he breathes against your ear. He wraps a protective arm around your waist, guiding you off the dance floor towards the exit. You trip over your feet, trying to keep up with him.

“Oh my god! Lucius!” a girl clad in the tightest and shortest pink dress you’ve ever seen fawns as she crowds the two of you. “So nice to see you babe, leaving so soo—”

“Sorry love,” he interrupts. “I’m busy.”

Lucius leads you towards the door, before pivoting to face you, his bright eyes under dark brows furrowed in a serious expression look you over.

"You okay?" he asks softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You offer a smile, loose and hazy under your inebriation, your body swaying as you try to stay upright.

“Come here.” He bends down and scoops you up into his arms and holds you close to his chest. Your head spins, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck.

He carries you through the crowded club. You try to drown out the loud music, focusing instead on the beat of his heart against your ear.

The cool night air hits your hot skin as Lucius steps outside, holding you tighter against his chest as you shiver in his arms.

The driver pulls up and opens the car door, allowing Lucius to duck inside, easily maneuvering the both of you into the backseat, holding onto you tightly against his chest. You tuck your head under his chin as he settles into the plush seat.

You feel breathless as he grins towards you. "Come on, let's get you home."

The city lights blur across his handsome face as the two of you sit in silence. The comfort of Lucius and the car’s motion lulls you into a drowsy state. Your eyes flutter open and closed, catching glimpses of tall skyscrapers turning into tree-lined roads, farm fields, and large estates.

"We're here," Lucius whispers softly, waking you from your half-sleep. You blink your eyes open, his blue eyes warm in the dim light of the car. He scoops you closer against him, carrying you up the steps of his large manor.

He carries you as he makes his way through the luxury of his home, up the grand staircase and into his bedroom.

"Let's get you more comfortable," Lucius says, setting you down gently on his large four-poster bed with soft green sheets.

“Thank you,” you whisper, overwhelmed by the way his blue eyes look at you with care.

He nods and smiles before walking to his closet and pulling out a soft cotton shirt. "Here," he offers, "This should work."

You nod, standing on wobbly feet, fumbling with the ties of your dress. Lucius swallows, his eyes watching as you slip open the top before he turns his back, giving you privacy as you change. The smell of him engulfs you when you put his shirt on.

“Done,” you whisper, sobering lightly from your shyness.

He turns, his eyes flickering with an unfamiliar emotion as he takes in the sight of you wearing his shirt. He helps you get into his bed, pulling back the covers for you. His mattress is soft, your exhaustion quickly catches up to you.

"Good?” he asks, tucking the blankets around you.

“Yes,” you breathe out, your eyes staring into his eyes. His fingers brush your forehead, pushing back a strand of hair.

"Get some rest. I'll be in the room next door if you need anything."

“Thank you,” you whisper.

"Always, Sunny.” He leans in, gently pressing his lips against your forehead.

The last thing you hear before falling asleep is the soft click of the door as he leaves.

—-

The lakeside is lit by bright moonlight. A raucous party echoes in the distance. You’re standing all alone far from the crowd of the party you don’t remember attending, watching the surreal swirls of the water lap at the shore.

“My Lady. Why’d you do that?” a low, growling voice rumbles behind you.

You turn to find a formidable presence under a black hood, a handsome face hidden behind shadows.

“Marcus? What did I do?”

He removes his hood, his features set in disappointment.

“Going to a club, getting too drunk, needing someone to rescue you? Why did you put yourself in that danger?”

He’s so angry.

“Because I wanted to get drunk and have meaningless sex,” you admit, surprising yourself at your bold words.

He takes a step forward. “Meaningless? With whom?”

“With anyone…” you clarify. “With you… I wanted to pretend they were… you”

He steps closer, his heat sending a shiver down your spine. “You think I’d just stand by while someone else gets to… pretend with you?” he asks, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You swallow hard. He’s close—so close that his warmth envelops you. You glance up at him, his gaze is intense and scrutinizing. His jaw sits tight with barely restrained desire.

“Marcus,” your voice shakes.

“Sunny,” he breathes against your ear. “Is that what you want? To pretend? Or do you want it to be real?”

“Real,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

The space between you dissolves.

“Then make it real,” he whispers against your lips, his hands finding your waist, fingers splaying wide as he pulls you possessively against his large body.

His lips crash against yours in a searing kiss, it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Finally, you taste him, warmth and intensity flooding your senses as you wrap your fingers around the waves of his hair. He responds, his lips pressing harder against yours, his hands roaming down your back, a trail of heat left wherever he touches.

The world around you blurs into a soft haze, distant music and merriment is replaced by a soft hum.

“Sunny,” he says between kisses, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

His hands slide down to your thighs, lifting you into his hold, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You bury your face in his neck, your hands grip his cloak as his cock pokes against your entrance, your body shivering in his hold though you have all of his heat radiating against you.

“Tell me you want this,” he groans against your skin.

“I want this, Marcus,” you moan, your whole body aching to feel him. “I want you.”

He growls an approving noise as he shifts you in his grip, moving your both toward the edge of the lake, lowering you gently onto the grass.

His large hands find the delicate laces of your dress, tugging each one open, his fingers brushing against your skin as he works meticulously to undress you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs softly, the moonlight lighting his eyes golden as they rake over your body.

He sheds his cloak, your breath catches in your throat as his naked body is revealed to you. You’ve waited so long to see him like this and he’s just as perfect as you imagined. He’s big, so damn big and formidable. Broad, yet toned. Soft, yet powerful. Strong arms, defined chest, and thick thighs.

You gasp as his hands travel up your thighs, his calloused fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Spread for me beautiful.”

You obey, exposing your wet cunt to him.

“Oh Sunny,” he groans. “You’re so wet for me.”

His thumb slides through your folds, circling your clit as his other hand grips his cock, stroking himself as he moves closer to where you need him the most.

“Marcus,” you moan, his name catching in your throat as he presses the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“I want to make this real with you,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to claim you as mine.”

“Please,” you plead, your voice trembling.

He captures your lips again, his hands positioning themselves on either side of you, shielding you from the outside world.

He pushes into you with a singular thrust, sheathing himself in your heat. You gasp as he fills you.

“Sunny,” he groans against your mouth, his brows furrowing with effort as he stares into your eyes.

Your hips move to meet his as the world disappears, only leaving Marcus Acacius and the way he feels inside you.

“Look at me,” he commands softly. Your eyes meet his, all the warmth and longing you’ve wished for now revealed to you in his dark brown eyes.

He groans over a long, drawn-out hum as he draws out each thrust into you. He shifts, his cock pressing into the place you need to feel him the most.

You cry out, your moans echoing across the lake. You don’t care who hears you. He kisses your lips between grunts, the hum getting louder, now an insistent vibration as warmth floods through your skin.

You’re hot, Marcus’s body presses against you like a warm blanket. The hum grows even louder, you shift slightly, trying to focus on the heat and weight of Marcus’s body against yours, his cock pulling out an orgasm, you open your mouth to shout his name—until—you awaken.

Your heart races as you blink against the sunlight filtering through the curtains of the unfamiliar room. Then, you remember the events of last night. You’re in Lucius’s bed. The bed he left you alone in last night—the bed you just had a wet dream about his biggest rival in. You push the weight of his comforter off of your body, drenched in sweat, your thighs pushed together soaked in sweat and your orgasm.

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. Gratitude for the comfortable bed and safe space whirls with embarrassment in your head, already aching from a hangover. You pick up your phone, turning off your alarm.

A glass of water and two aspirin are laid on the bedside table along with a pair of shorts. You guzzle down the water and take the pills before getting out of bed.

Last night you were far too drunk to admire the surprising comfort of Lucius’s room. It doesn’t look like the flashy womanizer bedroom you’d expect him to have. No, this room is more refined and well-put together… understated and luxurious. Deep mahogany paneled walls adorned with paintings of equestrian scenes. A large dresser holds a couple trophies, a framed photo of him and his parents along with a small frame of him as a child and a smiling border collie. A large window frames the picturesque view of the sprawling garden outside. Next to it, a single chair and a table holding a stack of books. The book on top catches your eye: The Tao of Equus. You smile to yourself, surprised by his choice of reading material.

You pad across the plush rug and put on the shorts Lucius left you. Ah, a pair of Lucius Verus’s famous running shorts. Short as heck and much looser around your thighs than his.

Opening the bedroom door, you peek out, hearing Lucius’s voice float up from downstairs.

You shyly head down the sweeping staircase, squinting your eyes as you walk into his large, sun-drenched kitchen.

Lucius is there, leaning against a marble countertop, chatting with a man. They both turn as you enter, Lucius's face breaking into a wide smile.

"Good morning," he says. "How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” you softly respond. “Thank you.” “I hope you're hungry.” Lucius says as he pours you a cup of tea. “I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but I had Eugene make quite a spread.”

You settle onto a stool at the kitchen island, watching as Eugene sets a large plate filled with delicious looking food in front of you.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble,” you say, feeling a bit guilty seeing as only a few minutes ago you were grinding and sweating against his sheets dreaming of Marcus.

Lucius waves away your protests, sliding onto the stool next to you. "Nonsense, it's nice to have company for a change. Usually, it's just me and Eugene here in the mornings."

“What about your hookups?” you tease, taking a sip of your tea.

“Hmm,” he hums, leaning back, his blue eyes twinkling. “I don’t make a habit of letting them spend the night, especially in my bed.”

Your cheeks heat as you gently clear your throat. “Thanks… again for everything last night. I don’t tend to get like… that… I just wanted to have a night out.”

Lucius's expression softens as he watches you shyly pick at your food. "No need to explain. We all need to let loose sometimes… next time just call me. I’ll show you a good time,” he winks.

“You never stop,” you say, gently bumping your shoulder into his.

“Not when it comes to you,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Gone is the polished playboy from the club scene. Here, in his home, he's casual—and comfortable.

—

“I should get out of your hair,” you say, pushing your empty plate away. “I can order myself a cab," you offer.

“No you absolutely will not, I have to head to the grounds to train after breakfast, I’ll drop you off at the house.”

“If you insist.” “I do,” he says. “You can even pick the music, I never let anybody choose the music.”

You giggle as you finish your tea. “I’ll just head upstairs and change back into my dress.”

"Ah, well, I did enjoy you in those shorts, but I won’t say no to seeing you in that dress again,” he says with a wink.

You rise from the stool and make your way through Lucius’s beautiful home, sun spills in through tall windows, plants of all different types sit in beautiful ceramic pots, modern furniture is placed amongst priceless antiques, shelves filled with books line a wall. This is a whole new side to Lucius, domestic and quiet, not brash and womanizing.

Back in his room, you slip back into your dress, gently folding and placing the clothes he lended you back onto his bed… the same bed that you dreamed of Marcus in.

With a deep breath, you open the door and make your way back downstairs. Lucius stops in his tracks when he sees you, his blue eyes widening as they roam your body.

“I forgot how good you look in that,” he says.

“Oh stop,” you roll your eyes, putting your heels back on.

“Are you ready to go? It's pretty chilly outside. Here, take my jacket. You'll look much better in it than I do, anyway.” He reaches for his light blue denim jacket and holds it out for you to put on. The faint scent of his cologne is back, cedar and citrus, it makes you smile, the smell of youth and strength.

He makes you feel at ease, even when your mind continues to race with thoughts of Marcus.

He looks you up and down, a slight smirk lifting his lips, his eyes lit with adoration. “Much better. Let’s get you home.”

Lucius opens the door for you, leading you to a large terrace, bundles of jasmine and peonies overflow out of large pots border the stairs down to a large fountain where birds chirp and happily bathe themselves.

“Oh my god, Lucius, it’s gorgeous here.”

“My mom was a gardener, I guess I got her green thumb,” he shrugs as he places his hand against your back leading you down the steps to a sleek green Porsche and opens the passenger door for you. The leather is soft against your skin as you slide in.

He gets in, sending you a wink as the engine roars to life.

“Nice car,” you say, rubbing your hand across the smooth interior.

“She’s my pride and joy,” he says, pulling out onto the winding road towards Foxglove Downs. “Always wanted one.”

“I’m sure you get all the girls in this thing, right?” you joke.

“Wouldn’t know, I just don’t let anyone in here.”

You swallow at the implication of his words again.

The short drive to the stables is quiet, save for Lucius softly humming along to the songs on the car stereo. Your mind is anything but quiet though… the way Lucius looks at you—like you’re the only one that matters in the moment—the way he saved you last night, acting with nothing but respect for you. The way he cared for you this morning, the gentle ways he took care of you… and yet, you still think of Marcus—and the dream you had.

“Do you have any plans today?” Lucius asks, interrupting your reverie.

“Not really, that’s why I was out last night,” you respond with a nervous chuckle.

“I’m glad I was there for you Sunny.”

“I am too.”

—-

As the car comes to a stop in your driveway, Lucius jumps out and rushes to open your door before you have a chance to do it yourself.

You step out, feeling how impossibly close he is to you, his lips parted as his eyes lit by the late morning sun gaze into yours. You sigh as he leans in to kiss you. But, instead of meeting your lips, you turn your head, he leaves a gentle kiss against your cheek.

As he pulls away, his eyes search yours.

"I should get going," Lucius says softly, his breath warm against your cheek. “Already running late.”

“Thank you again… for everything,” you say before he turns and gets back into his car.

“Of course Sunny,” Lucius smiles, giving you one last lingering look before he pulls away, heading down the path towards the stables.

You find yourself looking over the edge of the hill down towards the stables. Your eyes scan the grounds suddenly stopping onto Marcus standing in the gravel parking lot below. He’s paused, his bag gripped in his hand as he stares right back up at you. Even from here, you can see the intensity in his eyes, the confusion over why you’re in such a short dress in the middle of the morning wearing Lucius’s jacket. You wonder what exactly he saw.

—-

Thank you for reading! Tagging those who asked and some friends! Let me know if you'd like to be removed.

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@pedrit0-pascalit0, @ace-turned-confused, @itwasntimethatdidit40, @lotusbxtch, @almostfoxglove

[kaiijo]

TOLD YOU SO — ITOSHI SAE

pairing: itoshi sae x fem! reader content: reader wears a dress, a little possessive behavior on sae’s end, oliver aiku cameo notes: pretty eyes = pretty guys

You love Sae, you really do. Behind that apathetic, disinterested exterior lies a heart that beats in turn with yours. You love him, you really, really do, and you have to remind yourself of that as you ignore the side-eye he’s giving you that’s tinged with a certain smugness and screams, I told you so.

Okay, so it definitely was not the smartest move to forego a coat when you knew that this fundraiser was going to be on an outdoor rooftop bar in late fall. But none of your coats went with the dress you were wearing — a long, low-backed, satin number — which was the only thing you had that was formal enough for the event. Sae had looked you up and down when you two were getting ready in your apartment and said, “You’re going to be cold.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, “it’s not even that cold out.”

“You need to bring a coat.”

“I’m really fine, Sae. I run hot, remember?”

He glanced at your outfit again and said, “You’re going to be freezing.”

You shrugged and gave him a cheeky smile. “Then I’ll just wear your coat.”

He rolled his eyes. “No way, I’m not going to be cold because of your poor judgment.”

You hummed, “I think you will.”

“And I think you’ll be freezing.”

“Guess we’ll both have to wait and see whose right.”

You really hate when he’s absolutely and utterly correct in an argument, because at the moment, you’re trying your best to pretend that the goosebumps climbing your skin is not due to the chilly evening air. You refuse to meet Sae’s eyes, enviously peeking at his suit jacket.

You shiver as a breeze blows by and you huff to yourself, mumbling that you’re going to get a drink. Maybe indulging in the open bar will warm you up. You weave through the crowd and make it to the bar, sighing when you feel the warmth from one of the few heat lamps set up around the area. You swear that your boyfriend made the two of you purposely stand in a corner without one to prove a point.

You order a martini and sip it as you stand in the heat for a few more seconds, relishing in it. It’s not total protection from the cold but it definitely helps some.

You feel someone sidle up next to you and say, “You’re Sae’s girlfriend, right?”

You turn and face the owner of the voice, extending your free hand. “Yeah, that’s me. Oliver Aiku, right?”

“In the flesh,” he chuckles and he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve been bugging Itoshi to introduce us since we saw you on his home screen.”

You smile involuntarily. That photo is from when you and Sae really started getting serious in your relationship, and he took you on a surprise trip to a little cottage in Mallorca. “Yeah, we’ve been trying to keep things pretty private.”

Oliver hums, “I get that, but it’s nice to finally meet the person who makes him actually crack a smile for once.”

You laugh at that and the two of you carry on a pleasant conversation. You finally get how so many people fall victim to Oliver’s charms, especially after so much press about his tendency towards womanizing; he’s easy to talk to, friendly, definitely charismatic, and undoubtedly easy on the eyes. At the end of the day, though, you wouldn’t trade your grumpy, green-eyed boyfriend for anyone in the world. Not when you get to see the softer edges of him when his walls crumble and he falls into your arms. You wouldn’t trade that for anything.

A particularly strong gust of wind makes you stiffen and set your glass down, wrapping your arms around yourself. Okay, you’ll finally admit it aloud: “It’s fucking freezing.”

Oliver raises an eyebrow and before you know it, he’s shrugging out of his jacket and draping it over your bare shoulders. “Better?”

You let out a sigh. “Much.”

“Aiku.” Sae’s voice sounds from behind you, tone sharp.

“Itoshi!” Oliver ignores the ice in your boyfriend’s tone as he motions to you. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this one from us! She’s certainly a charmer.”

Sae glares at him. “I know, she’s my girlfriend, which is why I don’t understand why she’s wearing your coat.”

“Oh, she said she was cold.”

Sae gives you a look, frowns, and he slides his jacket off his shoulders and holds it out to you. “Take this,” he says and you do, hiding your giddiness as you hand Oliver his jacket back. You sink into Sae’s suit jacket, letting the familiar scent of his cologne flood your senses.

Oliver pats your shoulder and says, “It was nice to meet you! Don’t be a stranger, ‘kay?” He disappears into the crowd and it’s your turn to give Sae a smug look.

“Don’t even,” he says.

You lean into him and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Guess we were both right in the end.”

[niki-phoria]

and i wonder / when i sing along with you / if everything could ever be this real forever

pairing: cha hyunsu x gn!reader genre: fluff (?) word count: 747

notes: (cw: mentions of blood/nondescript injuries) i have not seen anything past s1 so apologies if this is ooc or for any canon divergence !! not proofread, pls forgive any mistakes !! title from foo fighters - everlong

CHA HYUNSU IS BLOODY. it stains his skin and clothing, seemingly painting the world around him in a sea of red. he doesn’t know if it’s human. he doesn’t know if it’s his. 

his hands tremble as he continuously turns them beneath his gaze. fresh cuts and new bruises litter his knuckles. hyunsu can’t remember where they’re from. holes litter his sweater, allowing the cool breeze to meet his bare skin. goosebumps arise against his skin, making him shiver. 

“hyunsu?” a soft, familiar voice forcibly breaks him out of his daze. he freezes in place. was he hallucinating? 

hyunsu blinks, disoriented. his head spins. you stand before him, a few meters away. your clothes are unfamiliar and oversized - likely stolen from some department store or borrowed from another survivor. a layer of dirt stains the fabric, though neither of you seem to care. 

hesitantly, you take a step forward. there’s no fear in your movements, only caution - as if he’s a stray animal you’re afraid of scaring off if you move too quickly. your voice is just as calm and steady when you say, “you’re bleeding.” 

hyunsu remains still. he watches your every movement as you slowly close the distance. his fingertips grip the fabric of his oversized sweater, anxiously tugging at the stray threads near the ends - a nervous habit he had picked up during high school. hiding his bruised hands was easier than fielding questions about why he was hurt. 

you only stop when there are mere centimeters between your bodies. hyunsu is almost sure you can hear his heart beating erratically in his chest and each shallow breath filling his lungs. his breath hitches when your fingertips brush against the fresh cut in his bottom lip. though already healing at a rapid pace, the wound still stings slightly at the contact. “does it hurt?” you whisper. 

“no.” hyunsu swallows, shifting nervously beneath his gaze. “it doesn’t.” 

you don’t believe him. hyunsu can immediately tell; from the way that your lips curl into a soft frown and how your gaze lingers on the cuts littering his skin for a little longer than necessary, you’ve never been the best liar. especially not to him. 

“y/n,” hyunsu hesitantly reaches up, wrapping his hand around your wrist. his skin is warm against your own. his thumb brushes against your knuckles, tracing against the days-old bruises that linger there. a fresh feeling of guilt curls into his stomach before he pushes the thought aside. 

his eyes are that ever-familiar shade of deep brown when hyunsu’s gaze meets your own. they shine like honey in the sunlight. “i’m okay. i promise.” 

your eyes flutter shut for a moment as you take a shaky breath. your hand slips from hyunsu’s grasp to reach up. his breath catches in his throat - the breath inexplicably stolen from his lungs. his heart rate speeds up in his chest, much to the enjoyment of the voice in the back of his head.

hyunsu resists the urge to shy away when your hand brushes against his cheekbone. your fingertips trace against bloodstains, both new and old. “i know,” you smile softly. “but no amount of super-healing will ever stop me from worrying about you.” 

if hyunsu didn’t know any better, he would have called you a liar. the words hang heavy in the air. it feels like his heart has skipped a beat in his chest. it feels foreign to him - someone caring. it had been months since he had any interaction with a person who didn’t just want something from him; it had been years since he was given any semblance of kindness. 

he remains still, all but frozen in place when you step closer, hesitantly wrapping your arms around him. squeezing his eyes shut, hyunsu hides his face into the crook of your neck. your hands gingerly rub against his back, careful not to disturb any possible injuries any more. shivers run down his spine whenever your fingertips ghost against his bare skin through the holes in his sweater. 

“i’m here,” you whisper, so soft that hyunsu nearly misses it entirely. his fingers curl into the fabric of your t-shirt, keeping his body pressed closely against your own. “it’s okay.” 

tears prick at the corners of his eyes before hyunsu blinks them away. he takes a shaky breath, clinging to you a little tighter as he ignores the mocking voice in the back of his mind that begs him to ask for more. 

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my sweet home masterlist <33

[wheeboo]

sleeping beauty | boo seungkwan

SYNOPSIS. in which you fall asleep on your boyfriend's lap. PAIRING. boo seungkwan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, just him <3 WARNINGS. terms of endearment WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested by @boorines: 2k!!! congratulations on the milestone rania <33 i have a teeny req for your event! seungkwan + #38 from list one! super super excited to read all your work 💗 - #38: "Well, hello, sleeping beauty. You fell asleep on me."

notes: mick !!! my fellow lovely amazing boosadan tysm for requesting i hope u enjoy this <33

join the 2k celebration!

You like to think that your boyfriend's voice is simply a gift from the heavens.

Not just his voice too, of course, but solely just... him. You don't think you'll ever understand the way how time seems to slow down when he speaks. It's like the world hits mute, the background noise fading away until all that's left is the low rumble in his chest when he laughs, or the way his voice dips ever so slightly when he whispers against your ear.

It's a superpower, perhaps𑁋you really consider it at this point. He's magical. Your boyfriend is woven of magic, with this ability to bottle up time with just a smile and a nonsensical ramble. It makes you wonder if maybe you should bottle him up and keep him close so the world can always feel like this: a little slower, a little more yours.

All you can remember is Seungkwan talking about something that you can't exactly recall. It was probably about something at work, or maybe it was about that new dumpling place he wanted to take you out to this weekend. Whatever it was, the details were blurred all around the edges, and you find yourself flickering in and out of a state of peaceful bliss as the warm, afternoon breeze settles around the two of you.

The feeling of his hand carding through your hair isn't helping at all, too.

Your head is laying on his lap, your legs sprawled out lazily on a picnic blanket in the middle of this small park you frequent at, the air carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and pine all around you. Rays of sunlight dapple through the leaves of the enormous tree looming above, painting patterns and shapes of warmth on your skin.

You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the minutes that pass, and fighting the urge to fall asleep right then and there is becoming harder and harder. But you can't help it𑁋not when Seungkwan is practically feeding into the urge, with his voice that is somehow a natural lullaby and his fingers gently massaging your scalp.

"...and when I tell you he literally tripped on his shoelaces during practice! We all couldn't stop laughing! Oh my gosh, baby, you should've been there. He had to practice the dance shoeless since his laces were all tangled…”

You manage to crack an eye open to look at Seungkwan, seeing that his gaze is out towards the distant pond as he continues to ramble animatedly, strands of his hair getting caught in the breeze.

You love it when he talks; he always seems so happy when he does. And you could listen to him go on and on, especially about things that make his eyes crinkle at the corners like that and his nose scrunching to fight off a laugh.

There's a sleepy, incoherent mumble that leaves your lips. Your eyes flutter back to a close, the world slowly closing in around you, and the sound of Seungkwan's voice fading into a warm, comforting hum.

"Okay, but remember that pizza place down a few blocks from our place? I heard it also got revamped into this new boba café, so I would totally be down to go there right after we..."

The moment Seungkwan's eyes fall back down to you, he shuts his mouth right away, and it hardly takes a second for his chest to suddenly feel so full of adoration that threatens to spill over the rim of his heart. His lips purse together before melting into a soft smile at the sight of you looking so peaceful right under his nose.

"Gosh, do my stories bore you that much?" he asks jokingly, yet carefully to not wake you.

He continues to peer down at you, huffing out a quiet sigh of contentment. You just look so soft right now, with your mouth parted slightly and your chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath that leaves you. When a single strand of hair tickles upon your cheek, Seungkwan brushes it away lightly with his thumb.

He leans back on his hands, a subtle pout forming at his mouth.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" Seungkwan says, tilting his head to the sight to get a better look at you. "How in the world did I get so lucky?"

His fingers toy gently with the fabric of your shirt as he lets a few moments of silence roll through. The corners of your mouth seem to twitch at his touch, and he swears some sort of sleepy grin appears at your face. But then your lips drift back apart in a soft sigh.

Seungkwan lets out a sudden exhale he's been holding in.

"But then you always say something about how we were both lucky that we met each other," he continues on. "and while yeah, that may be true. I just... I can't help but think I'm the luckier one, because you're you, and if someone were to think they weren't lucky to have you in their life, then they're stupid."

His eyes continue to wander from you and out towards the sky, watching the sun beginning to set across the horizon.

"Do you... ever think about the future?" Seungkwan asks almost hesitantly, voice lowering a smidge at the vulnerability cracking through. "I know you hate thinking about it. But when you think of me... if you think of me being there with you, does it, um... make it feel less scary?"

He wants to mentally facepalm himself for wording it like that, or for asking it in general. Yet the question seemed to have been burning a hole through his tongue for a while now, and it's all deciding to tumble out.

Seungkwan leans down again, brushing another stray hair from your forehead. The remnants of the setting sun cast an orange glow on your features, making you look even more ethereal than usual.

"It's definitely not as scary when I think about it, because... you're in it." He chuckles to himself at how absolutely cheesy that sounded. "Could you imagine our house together? I know you've always wanted a bigger bed for all your stuffed animals and a bookshelf for your books. We could even paint the walls that colour you showed me on Pinterest the other day..."

The thought of one day having an entire house for just the two of you makes his cheeks burn with anticipation, like he's watching it all unfold in his mind. He knows he's imagining way farther ahead than ever before, but the future suddenly feels so easy and possible with you by his side.

Seungkwan steals another careful glance at you, as if he's waiting for an answer he knows he probably won't hear. When the silence starts to feel heavy, he sucks in another deep breath.

"I just hope that wherever you'll be in ten, twenty years from now... that you're happy," he says. "and that maybe, just maybe, you'll be happy with me, if you wanted to, of course."

As the uncertainty lingers in the air, the sound of gravel cracking snaps his attention away for a second. Seungkwan turns his head to catch the sight of a nearby family walking by, their laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves. A ghost of a smile touches his lips as he watches them, the warmth in his chest spreading throughout his body. Then he glances back down at you, and his smile hardly wavers.

When his hands drift from your hair, you stir slightly, eyelids fluttering open a fraction. The world slowly but surely comes back into focus, and you feel yourself stretch your legs out. Tilting your head slightly, you meet Seungkwan's gaze towards you.

"Well, hello, sleeping beauty," he remarks teasingly, poking a finger at your nose. "You fell asleep on me."

You sit up from his lap, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. "Did I? Sorry."

"It's okay," Seungkwan reassures, already reaching back for your hand. "You looked cute, anyway."

You let out a scoff at that, but the heat creeping up your neck is hard to ignore. "Whatever, did I miss anything important?"

Seungkwan hesitates for a second, then shakes his head.

"Nope, nothing much," he answers. "Just talking about work and oh! The new dumpling place. Yeah, we're going there this weekend, and then stop by a new little boba café too."

The way your eyes seem to literally light up has Seungkwan grinning like a goofball.

"Oh, you are going to regret telling me about that, Mr. Boo," You threaten playfully, wiggling a finger in his direction.

Seungkwan just throws his head back and laughs, before reaching over to grab your hand into his. A yawn escapes you.

"We should probably head home now," he says, giving your hand a soft squeeze before standing up.

You follow suit, helping him pack up the picnic blanket and other belongings that the two of you brought together. And on the way back to the car, you nudge him lightly on the arm with a finger.

"Are you sure I didn't miss anything important? I must have knocked out for a bit, you know..."

Seungkwan bites at his bottom lip sheepishly. "It was something stupid."

"Come on. Whatever you say isn't stupid," You coax lightly. "I love listening to you."

He perks up at that, lifting a brow. "You... do?"

"Of course I do."

"But you fell asleep𑁋"

"Okay, the position was too comfortable," You insist hastily. "and your voice is really nice to listen to. I'm wide awake now, I swear."

Seungkwan only pauses for a few moments, a bashful look at his face. He can feel the vulnerability seeping through again, despite knowing that it's completely okay to be vulnerable, especially with you. But he'd rather say it all when the two of you are in a more comfortable... environment.

"I'll tell you at home, okay?" He presses a small kiss to your cheek. "I promise."

And when he turns away from you, you gaze down at the ground, feeling the corners of your mouth tugging back upwards.

Oh, you can't wait to hear him say all that again.

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[demensrage]

l for lustful adventure ⚊ •. with shoyo hinata

summary: a fun anniversary adventure unleashes the most primitive desires between you. a lustful adventure that you are not willing to deny, there will be put into scenes what was never said between you.

cw: established relationship, dom! hinata, sub! reader, spanking, fingering, oral (m. receiving), overstimulation, unprotected, rough sex, creampie, thight riding, blindfold play.

word count: 9k 💀

© demensrage 2024. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

You knew how beautiful Brazil was from the constant photos your husband had sent you, but seeing it with your own eyes is a delight that the images can’t capture. Everything looks so vibrant: the sky with an incomparable blue, the lush green plants lining the streets, and the warm sun that caresses your skin with an intensity unknown in Japan. The hustle and bustle of people, the aroma of fresh fruits and coffee floating in the air, and the contagious laughter of street vendors remind you that you’ve crossed the world to a culture where life seems to pulse in every corner.

Now you understand why Hinata had fallen in love with this place, why he spoke about it with so much emotion, why he wanted you to enjoy it too. And now you were there beside him, two weeks into your arrival, and you simply couldn’t get enough of the landscape. A few days weren’t enough to enjoy the wonders of this beautiful country, which is why it was easy to convince him to spend more time there. Your third wedding anniversary was fast approaching, and that was always a good excuse.

The first two weeks were spent enjoying São Paulo, immersing yourselves in its vibrant urban life, exploring the street art in Vila Madalena, the unmatched flavors of the Municipal Market, and the hustle and bustle of downtown. Now, you were ready for the next adventure: Rio de Janeiro. What you longed for most was to see the Christ the Redeemer statue, the imposing guardian of the city that, even in photos, seemed to convey a deep peace. You wanted to see for yourself if its grandeur was as real as it seemed.

You both decided that driving would be a great idea. This way, you could enjoy every stop for food or simply pause to admire the view. The winding road offered captivating landscapes; green mountains contrasting with the blue sky and the emerald sea that seemed to stretch endlessly. You carried your camera, ready to capture every moment and every special corner. From the small towns along the way, each with its own charm, to the street vendors offering sweets and guaraná sodas.

The trip itself was an adventure. The landscapes changed with each stretch of road, and every stop had its unique magic. Sometimes, you both would get out of the car just to feel the warm breeze or enjoy a fresh fruit bought from a roadside vendor. There was something about that road trip that made each kilometer feel like a small victory, a conquest of memories and shared experiences.

You remembered how hard it had been to stay together despite the distance. Hinata was in Brazil for his training, focused on reaching his dreams as a professional player, while you stayed in Japan, clinging to your studies, so close to finishing university that quitting wasn’t an option. The nights were especially tough; the time difference and the absence of his voice made the emptiness feel deeper.

However, you found a way to cope. Every morning, you woke up to a message from him, telling you how he woke up in Brazil, talking about his training, how the weather and the language were a constant challenge, but also his excitement about being so close to fulfilling his dreams. Sometimes, the messages came with spontaneous photos: one of him with his teammates, another of a typical Brazilian dish he was trying for the first time, or one of the urban landscape surrounding him.

For your part, you sent him pictures of the corners of the university, the notes you hated so much, and the books that seemed endless. These small routines became your refuge, reminding both of you that, although you were separated by thousands of kilometers, your lives were still shared in those little details.

All that effort, every sacrifice, and every day of waiting had been worth it. In the last game of the season, when everything was set for him to come home with you, Hinata decided to dedicate the final shot to you, sealing the victory in your name. The emotion overwhelmed you; despite the struggles to arrive on time, the flight delays, and the anxiety of a lost suitcase, you had made it just in time. The language barrier complicated everything, but nothing mattered at that moment. From the stands, your eyes met his, and in that instant, you knew he had seen you. With that unmistakable spark in his gaze, he made the shot that would define the game… and won it for you.

The stadium erupted in cheers, but for him, it wasn't enough; no, Hinata always had to celebrate in grand style. So, with his heart pounding a thousand beats per minute and emotions running high, he ran toward you in the stands, weaving through his teammates and the crowd until he reached you. He took your hand without hesitation, and, amidst applause and astonished gasps, he knelt down. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his eyes shining and a smile that disarmed you. The proposal echoed in the stadium, and in that moment, the whole world seemed to stop. You said yes, between laughter and tears, and you were the happiest woman in that crowded place because he, your Hinata, had made that victory a double one: he had won the game and also your heart forever.

Now, as you enjoyed this trip, you felt that every moment by his side was a new opportunity to create lasting memories, moments that, over the years, would fill your life with stories to tell. You were ready to enjoy his company in every stage of life, even when youth faded and the years brought new adventures.

As Hinata helped you take the bags out of the car, the golden light of the sunset wrapped everything around you, and although the city's sound was constant, you paused for a moment to absorb the view of the hotel. The horizon stretched out before you, with the sea reflecting the last rays of the sun and the mountains in the distance, like a perfect painting. You felt fortunate because this trip, like so many others to come, wasn’t just about the places you’d visit, but about what you shared on the journey.

Hinata approached you, noticing you had become still, and with a tender smile, he took your hand. "Do you like the view?" he asked, with the calmness that only he could convey. "Yes," you answered, not taking your eyes off the scene. "It's perfect. Will you take me to that bar you told me about?"

Hinata smiled at your question, his gaze lit by the sunset. "Of course, it's a special place," he said, interlacing his fingers with yours as he began walking toward the hotel. "It's close to the beach, with an incredible view, and the live music is always so good it makes you forget everything else."

The idea of sharing that place with him, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere while the sun slowly faded behind the mountains, filled you with excitement. You knew it wasn’t just the bar that made it special, but everything it represented: a little corner of the world where you both would feel even more connected, sharing laughter, conversations, and dreams.

As you walked toward the hotel entrance, you thought about how lucky you were to be there, at that moment. It didn’t matter how many places you explored; the most important thing was always being together, creating memories that would be part of your shared story.

Hearing Hinata speak Portuguese while asking for the hotel keys was a new pleasure you had just discovered. His voice, already soft and warm in Japanese, became even deeper and more resonant when he spoke this new language, as if each syllable were imbued with a warmth only he could convey.

The way his accent added a different twist to his tone made you smile unconsciously, a feeling of comfort and admiration that grew with every sentence. It was as if, by speaking Portuguese, his essence became even more charming, more connected to the land that had captured his heart at that point in his life.

You stayed there, watching him as he smiled while receiving the keys and offered you a knowing glance. "We'll be in the room soon. Would you like to rest or explore a bit more?" he asked, unaware that, by doing so, he had once again captivated you with that mix of tenderness and confidence only he could convey.

"Let’s go to that bar, I’m eager to check it out," you replied enthusiastically, taking his arm naturally as you walked together toward the elevator. The contact was warm, and the connection between you both felt as solid as ever.

"I rested a lot on the road trip," you added with a soft smile. "Unless you want to rest, of course." You turned to look at him, noticing how his eyes sparkled with that unmistakable energy that always characterized him.

Hinata laughed softly, shaking his head. "Rest? With so much to explore? Impossible," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "Let’s go to the bar, but promise me you'll let yourself be amazed by the night view from the beach afterward. It’s something you have to see."

"I promise," you said without hesitation, feeling more and more excited about what the night would bring. The elevator arrived, and you both got in, enjoying those small moments together that made everything worth it.

The bar's atmosphere was filled with a mix of laughter, soft music, and the melting pot of languages flowing among the groups of tourists and locals. The dim lights illuminated the tables, but it was the dance floor that truly caught everyone's attention. People moved to the rhythm of samba and other Brazilian genres with a natural sensuality that seemed to flow from every movement, as if the music had completely taken over their bodies. The bright colors of the dancers' outfits and the sparkle of glasses on the tables added a warm, almost magical ambiance that enveloped you effortlessly.

You felt comfortable, relaxed, with a glass of piña colada with vodka in your hand, the ice still crunching with the first sip. The sweet, fruity flavor of the cocktail contrasted perfectly with the stronger kick of the vodka, giving you a small push of courage. You were starting to feel the effects of the alcohol—a slight euphoria that made everything around you feel more vibrant, more intimate.

Hinata, seated beside you, smiled as he noticed your gaze fixed on the dance floor. There was something in the way you watched the couples, how they surrendered themselves to the music, that made him realize it intrigued you more than you had let on.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked, not expecting much more than a nod of acceptance. But he noticed something in your expression—a mix of curiosity and a desire to explore something new, something he hadn’t seen in you before.

You didn’t need more words. Without hesitation, you stood up, taking his hand and leading him toward the floor. “Yes,” you said, a mischievous smile surprising even yourself. “I want to try it. I want to see how they do it.”

The music grew louder as you began moving to the rhythm like the Brazilians. It wasn’t just the dancing that drew you in but the way every movement seemed to be a pure expression of sensuality and confidence. You, a little uncertain at first, grew increasingly comfortable, mimicking the moves with Hinata by your side, both of you laughing.

“I think I’m struggling a bit,” you said, glancing at your husband with a playful grin. “But... would you like to teach me how to do it right?”

Hinata looked at you with a mix of admiration and amusement in his eyes. He understood what that question might imply but didn’t want to rush to conclusions. His face lit up with a warm smile, the one he always wore when he saw you open to new experiences. “Of course,” he replied, stepping closer and placing his hands on your waist, guiding your body with his to the rhythm of the music.

Somehow, the dance, the alcohol, and the atmosphere charged with sensuality began opening doors you hadn’t considered before. As you moved more freely, you realized how much you longed to be closer to him—not just physically, but in a deeper, more intimate way.

What started as a fun dancing game quickly transformed into something more profound, more personal. His hands, firm yet gentle, slowly slid down to your hips, pulling you toward him with subtle but undeniable force. The music shifted, becoming slower, more sensual, as if it mirrored the connection forming between you two. The soft, rhythmic beats intertwined with the rapid thudding of your own heart, creating a unique melody just for the two of you.

Hinata guided you expertly, making your body move in slow, synchronized circles against his. Every sway of your hips felt like a silent conversation, a whisper shared between the dance and the growing desire. The brush of your bodies generated a palpable electricity, a heat that went beyond the room's temperature. You weren’t sure if it was the closeness of his body, the warmth of the atmosphere, or perhaps the combination of both, but the fire began to flood every corner of your being.

Your eyes closed with a soft sigh, surrendering completely. It didn’t matter if the music was slow or if others were moving around you; at that moment, everything else faded away. There was only the two of you, the rhythm of the music, the whisper of his breathing, and the touch of your bodies, as if the world around you dissolved, leaving you in a perfect, desire-filled bubble.

You felt more alive than ever, as though the simple sensation of his closeness was a reminder of how much you had been holding back, how much you wanted to explore. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel insecure or shy. Passion, desire—everything you had kept buried—was now surfacing in a way you hadn’t known existed, but you relished it with every fiber of your being.

One of Hinata’s hands slid gently from your hips to your jaw, holding it with a firm yet tender grip that made your eyes flutter open slowly. His thumb brushed your skin with an almost reverent delicacy, tilting your face to one side as he leaned in. There was no rush in his movements, only a quiet determination that left you breathless.

When his lips finally met yours, it was as though everything else disappeared entirely. The bar, the music, the people around you… none of it mattered. The kiss was slow, deep, and full of emotions that seemed to have built up over days. You had forgotten how much you missed this—this intimate connection with him. During the trip, both of you had focused so much on landscapes, laughter, and new experiences that, unintentionally, these moments of closeness had been set aside.

The kiss became a reminder of everything you shared, a silent language saying more than words ever could. You felt the warmth of his breath, the firmness of his hands, and that unmistakable love that had always defined your relationship. His other hand remained on your hip, keeping you close, as if afraid you might pull away.

When you finally separated, his eyes searched yours, and in that gaze, you found a blend of love, desire, and something more—something you couldn’t quite define but that ignited the spark within you even further. “I missed this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and filled with emotion. “So much.”

You smiled softly, feeling your heart pound. “Me too, Hinata,” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his, loving the way he seemed to adore you even in the gentle touch of his gaze. “I think we forgot how important this is, how important you are to me.”

His fingers barely grazed your back as he held you close, a gesture that, at any other time, might have gone unnoticed, but now, with the warmth of his touch, sent a shiver down your spine. It was so subtle yet laden with meaning that your thoughts began to drift, taking you back to a recent conversation with your friends.

It had been a quiet afternoon, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses. They had started with light topics—travel, restaurants, daily routines—but, as always happened with that group, the conversation had turned more personal, more intimate.

Your friends, amid sighs and nervous giggles, began sharing details about their own dynamics with their partners. “Have you ever tried something… different?” one of them asked with a mischievous smile as she swirled her wine glass. “Sometimes, a little roughness can spark things you didn’t even know you wanted.”

Another nodded, bursting into laughter as she recounted how her partner had surprised her one night with a firmer grip, a whispered command in her ear. The way they spoke, with a mix of playfulness and satisfaction, had left you intrigued. Though you tried to stay on the sidelines, their eyes turned to you, expectant.

“And you?” they asked almost in unison, smiling conspiratorially.

You laughed, a bit nervously, as your cheeks turned red. “We’re… well, we’ve always been more… traditional, I guess,” you admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed, though your friends didn’t judge you in the slightest. “We’ve never really talked about anything like that.”

"Well, you should," one of them chimed in enthusiastically. "You have no idea how liberating it can be. It's not about stopping enjoying what you already have; it's about exploring more, discovering new ways to connect together."

Those words had stuck with you ever since, echoing louder and louder in your mind. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy your intimate life with Hinata; on the contrary, you loved him and felt that you shared something special. But the idea of exploring, of finding a different side of the two of you, had left you wondering. What if there was more to discover, something you both could enjoy together if only you dared to bring it up?

Back in the present, the touch of his hand running down your back pulled you from your thoughts. His eyes met yours, soft and warm, but there was something more in his gaze, a spark that had perhaps always been there but that you were now noticing more clearly. Could you talk about it? Should you risk breaking the silence on this subject?

What if this wasn’t the right moment? Doubt anchored itself in your mind, immobilizing you. Talking about your sex life with Hinata, though it shouldn’t be complicated, felt like opening a door you weren’t sure how to close afterward. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—on the contrary, if there was anyone you could be vulnerable with, it was him. But the fear of making him uncomfortable or, worse, of him misunderstanding what you meant, filled you with uncertainty.

When is the right time to talk about something like this? As you watched him with that smile that always seemed to brighten any room, you wondered if a "perfect moment" even existed. Would it be on a quiet night when you were both relaxed at home? Or maybe in a spontaneous moment, like now, with the background music and the soft lights of the bar creating an ambiance straight out of a romantic movie?

You bit your lip, trying to untangle your thoughts. The way Hinata held you, how his eyes seemed to read yours, gave you a glimmer of confidence. But you still didn’t know how to start, how to put into words something so intimate that it could change dynamics you had both spent years building.

"Are you okay?" His voice came softly, pulling you back to the present. His brow furrowed slightly, worried, as if he had noticed something different about you.

"Yeah, of course," you lied with a smile, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced.

Hinata knew you too well, and the worst part was that he would probably give you all the time in the world to say whatever was on your mind. The problem was that you didn’t even know how to start. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, but you also knew that if you kept waiting for that perfect moment, you might stay silent forever.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t about finding the moment but creating it.

"Don’t be reckless," you scolded yourself silently, as if those words could keep the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind at bay. You couldn’t afford to ruin the atmosphere—not now, not when everything seemed to flow so naturally.

But at the same time, there was something you couldn’t ignore: the feeling that this moment might be exactly what you needed to take the first step. The brush of his hands on your hips, the warmth radiating from his body, the way his eyes sparkled with a mix of playfulness and desire—it all seemed to conspire to push you to speak.

"What’s wrong?" Hinata broke the silence, leaning in a little closer to ensure his voice wasn’t lost in the music and laughter of the bar. His fingers traced small circles on your waist, a gesture so casual yet charged with intimacy.

"It’s just... nothing, it’s nothing," you replied hastily, trying to divert his attention with a smile that probably wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped.

He raised an eyebrow, as if he didn’t believe your response for a second. "If it were nothing, you wouldn’t be so distracted," he pointed out gently, his tone filled with that infinite patience that always disarmed you.

You sighed, looking away toward the cocktail in your hand. "I don’t want to ruin the moment," you admitted in a low voice, more to yourself than to him.

"Then don’t ruin it," he replied with a mischievous smile, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "Just enjoy, and when you’re ready to talk, I’m here."

His words, simple but full of meaning, made something inside you relax. You didn’t have to rush or find the perfect words immediately. This moment wasn’t the end of anything—it was the beginning of everything.

You gave yourself a mental slap, forcing yourself to gather the necessary courage. You bit your lip hard, trying to silence the avalanche of doubts that continued to assault you. Instead of speaking, you turned with determination, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your bodies move in unison to the music.

Hinata looked at you with a mix of surprise and tenderness but said nothing. He simply leaned a little closer to you, his lips brushing against your temple while his hands found a steady rhythm on your waist.

The warmth of his closeness and the electricity of the moment made you feel safe—for now. You reminded yourself that there was no need to rush. There was time. This journey, after all, was just for the two of you.

"When we get to the hotel, I’ll do it," you silently promised yourself, closing your eyes as you let the rhythm of the music envelop you. You had to do it—not because of your friends’ advice but for yourself. You wanted to open that door with him, to explore something more, something new, something only the two of you could discover together.

For now, you allowed yourself to enjoy this moment, feeling safe in his arms, knowing that when the time came, he’d be ready to listen.

You sat on the bed with a sigh of relief, your hands reaching for the heels you had worn all day. You took them off urgently, as if your ankles were begging for a break after hours of endurance.

Hinata closed the door behind him, leaving the key on the nightstand as he watched you with a slight smile. "Too much dancing for one night?" he teased, walking over to sit beside you on the bed.

"Too much dancing for these shoes," you replied with a soft laugh, massaging your feet with your hands. "But it was worth it."

"It's always worth it when I see you enjoying yourself like that," he said, leaning in to gently take one of your feet, helping with the massage. His firm fingers found the exact spots, drawing a sigh of relief from you.

The gesture made your heart skip a beat. You looked at him, his eyes focused on his task, his expression so calm and attentive. It was the perfect moment, yet you still felt a lump in your throat.

"Thank you," you murmured finally, more for the massage than anything else, though deep down, you knew there was more weight behind that word.

Hinata looked up at you, noticing something in your tone. "Is something wrong?" he asked softly, setting your foot aside and turning to face you fully.

You took a deep breath, feeling how the moment you'd been putting off all day had finally caught up to you.

The question slipped from your lips before you could consider if it was the right way to approach it—a sudden impulse overtaking you. But with Hinata, there was never a "right" way to do things; everything was always spontaneous, natural, as if the world around you disappeared in the space where only the two of you existed.

"Have you ever thought about... more?" The phrase hung in the air between you, a question laden with as much uncertainty as curiosity.

Hinata stayed silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on yours as he read your expression. It wasn’t the reaction you had expected, but it didn’t surprise you either. He had always been an open book, yet now, something in his gaze seemed deeper, more attentive.

"More of what?" he asked, his voice gentle, as if trying to understand exactly what you meant.

The vulnerability lingered in every word that left your lips, but you didn’t stop. You had started speaking without filters, and there was no turning back now. You looked at Hinata with determination, though the knot in your stomach remained.

"More about us, you know... sexually."

The words, as direct as they were, seemed to hang in the air for a moment, the weight of them filling the room. The atmosphere shifted immediately, the tension in the air palpable. But it wasn’t discomfort—not for him, at least.

Hinata looked at you attentively, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. His expression was a mix of surprise and curiosity, but also something else you couldn’t quite identify.

"More about us?" he repeated, his tone calm, as if he were processing what you had said. "You mean exploring something different? Something... more."

You nodded, a bit embarrassed but unwilling to back down. "Yes, that. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I don’t know, sometimes I feel like there’s something beyond what we’ve tried, something we could explore together if... if you’re interested too."

Hinata stayed silent for a moment, as if deeply reflecting. Then, with a compassionate smile, he gently took your hands and intertwined them with his.

"My love," he said, his tone so warm it made you feel like you could trust him completely, "I’ve always wanted you to feel comfortable and happy. And I never want you to feel like we can’t talk about anything. If this is what you want, then of course, we’ll do it together, at your pace."

The warmth of his words gave you the reassurance you needed. There was no judgment, only an open willingness to explore what you desired—what both of you desired.

"Although... I never brought it up because I was afraid," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Afraid of making you feel insecure. I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t enjoying sex with you."

His words struck you right in the heart, his vulnerability opening up to you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. The gesture—his hand scratching the back of his neck, so human, so sincere—made you realize how much he had worried about you, even in moments when he hadn’t said a word.

"I didn’t want you to think I don’t enjoy having sex with you," he continued, his gaze lowered as if he couldn’t fully look at you. "Because I do—more than I can put into words. But I didn’t want to pressure you, didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or like there was something wrong with what we already share."

For a moment, you stayed silent, absorbing what he had just confessed. You’d been so focused on your own thoughts and desires that you hadn’t considered Hinata’s side, his own fears. You looked at him, and the affection you felt for him grew even stronger.

"But now I know we need to talk about this," he said firmly, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "So if there’s something you want to explore... I want us to do it together. No matter how different it might be, if you’re ready, I’ll be ready too."

The relief you felt was almost immediate. It was as if all the tension that had been building between you, the small unspoken fears and doubts, dissolved in that moment.

"You didn’t need to be afraid," you said softly, taking his hand and brushing your fingers over it. "I would never want you to feel that way, Hinata. All I want is for us to be okay, to be together, and to always be able to talk about what we want."

He nodded slowly, a shy smile forming on his lips. "So... we’ll explore whatever you want to explore?" Your smile was answer enough, and in the end, no more words were necessary.

What had started as an open and honest conversation quickly transformed into a deeper connection—both physical and emotional. Hinata’s proximity, his touch at once decisive and tender, made your heart race. Without speaking, but with a gaze full of understanding, he made it clear that you both shared the desire to explore the unknown, to dive into new experiences together.

His hand, firm on your hips, gently pulled you toward him with a palpable desire. You felt his warmth through the fabric, and when he sat you on his lap, the contact became immediate and electrifying. The closeness didn’t just ignite the spark; it turned it into a blazing fire.

His lips found yours with a passion you hadn’t shared in some time—a renewed passion born from the vulnerability and sincerity of your conversation. His kiss was slow at first, exploratory, as if savoring every second of this new chapter in your relationship.

Your body responded instantly, instinctively leaning closer, letting yourself be swept away by the intensity of the moment. The feeling of being so near, of sharing something so intimate, filled you with a mix of nerves and excitement.

What started as a gentle kiss intensified with each second. Hinata's hands, which until now had been so careful, began to move with more determination. They ran down your back, touching the softness of your skin with a mix of urgency and devotion, as if they didn't want to leave anything unexplored. The touch of his hands against your body sent a warm current through your veins, an intense sensation that you hadn't experienced like that before.

His kiss became more demanding, an unexpected contrast to his usual tenderness, but somehow it was exactly what you wanted. Every movement of his lips and hands brought you closer to him, and for a moment, everything else disappeared. The world outside the room ceased to exist, leaving only the contact, the shared desire that now flowed unrestricted.

Every caress, every brush of skin on skin, seemed to have a purpose, as if both could read each other's desires without the need for words. The touch of his hands, so firm and soft at the same time, ran over your body with a familiarity that felt new, as if everything that had been kept in the silence of the previous years now wanted to come to light.

Your hand traveled to his abdomen, under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. There was something about that closeness that made you feel freer, more alive, as if you could finally allow yourself to be yourself without reservation. The pressure of his lips against yours, followed by his hand on the back of your neck, increased the desire to be even closer.

Each movement of his body towards yours made you want to explore more, discover more about what you both wanted at that moment. His hand, which had traveled to your leg, slightly lifted the fabric of your skirt, revealing your skin, making a shiver run through your body. The mix of sensations, the touch of his skin against yours was all you needed to lose yourself in the moment.

“Tell me what you want to do,” he whispered, his deep voice echoing in your ears, filling you with an indescribable feeling, a desire that grew with every word.

His lips moved with precision, leaving a trail of heat on the skin of your neck. Soft, barely perceptible bites followed by open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers down your spine. His breath against your skin mixed with the soft hum of the air conditioner, his every move igniting something inside you.

There was no rush in his actions, but no unnecessary softness either. It was a calculated intensity, a mix of dominance and attention that kept your senses alert. His firm hand on your hip held you in place, while his mouth explored every inch of your neck with a precision that seemed designed to make you lose yourself in the sensation.

His hands slowly moved down, firm and determined, until he squeezed your ass with a dominance that made you inhale sharply. The instinctive movement of your hips against his leg sent a wave of electricity through your body, suddenly reminding you of the question he had asked moments before.

“Tell me what you want to do,” he had said, and now the voice resonated in your mind like a persistent echo, as deep and clear as the heat radiating from his body.

You bit your lip, trying to organize your thoughts as your hips continued to seek contact, unconsciously marking a rhythm on his thigh. His gaze, dark and fixed on yours, seemed to demand a response, but not of empty words, but of action.

Your hands moved decisively, gripping his thighs with a firmness that made him raise an eyebrow, somewhere between surprised and fascinated. You knew how much you liked them, and you weren’t going to be shy about it. The pressure of your fingers on the well-defined muscles was a pleasure in itself, but the position you were in gave you more control, more freedom.

You moved your hips against him confidently, seeking to explore the connection his thighs could offer you. A spark of amusement crossed his face at the sight of your determination. “That’s it,” he murmured in a low, almost defiant tone, his hands returning to your hips to support you as he followed your every move.

With one agile movement, Hinata’s hands shot to your shoulders, holding you firmly but never losing his usual gentleness. Before you could process what was happening, he lifted you slightly, making you feel light as a feather in his arms.

With unparalleled delicacy, his nimble fingers slid your panties down in a determined motion. His dark eyes searched yours intently, as if asking for permission and confirmation to continue, though the heat in the air said it all. It was clear that every action of his was meant to make you feel better, more comfortable, and completely adored under his care.

Firmly, Hinata guided your hips back to his thigh, forcing you to sit on it once more. The intensity in his gaze left no room for doubt; in that moment, you were all that existed for him. The feel of the fabric of his pants against your bare skin was something new and unexpected, a contrast between rough and delicate that made you hold your breath.

With an almost frantic desire, your hips move hard on Hinata's thigh, searching for the perfect friction that will bring you to ecstasy. Each thrust of his leg against your pussy is like an explosion that shakes every cell of your being and leaves you yearning for more.

The wetness between your legs becomes overwhelming, almost painful, but you can't stop yourself. Each touch is like an intense electric current running through your body from your core to your toes. In that moment, you are completely immersed in surrender to the pleasure shared with Hinata.

You brought your hands to his shoulders, seeking a foothold as you let yourself be carried away by the need that flooded your body. The constant movement awakened sensations that were new to you, a heady mix of pleasure and vulnerability. Your fingers clung to the fabric of his shirt, an anchor you needed to not lose yourself completely in the whirlwind of emotions that consumed you.

"Are you feeling so desperate that you need to fuck yourself on my thigh?" Hinata whispered huskily, his hot breath tickling your ear. It was a question, but also a confident statement, as if he already knew the answer and was willing to take control.

Hinata’s hands slid down your hips, his thumbs tracing circles over your skin, heightening the intensity of the moment. The pressure of his thigh beneath you and the growing heat of his skin against yours made you feel a mix of euphoria and freedom that you hadn’t anticipated.

Hinata gripped your hips with a merciless grip, guiding you through each movement with surgical precision. “Don’t stop,” he ordered in a deep voice that rumbled inside you, charged with a fierce authority you had never known before. His eyes remained fixed on you, devouring your every expression as if it were his most prized food.

Without hesitation, you obeyed and moved with more confidence, allowing yourself to feel every touch, every pressure he generated as he held you with an almost painful firmness. Suddenly, his hands moved down from your hips to the base of your shirt and grabbed it with determination. In one fluid movement, he pulled the fabric up and removed it without hesitation.

The cool air hit your bare skin and it was such a sharp contrast to the heat of the room that it reminded you of how exposed you were in front of him. But Hinata didn’t stop there. With impressive dexterity, he found the clasp of your bra and opened it with a simple movement. The garment fell to the floor, leaving your skin exposed.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself, as his hands returned to your hips, making sure you didn’t break the rhythm he had set.

His lips returned to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the tender skin exposed before him, leaving marks, which for him are a direct way of claiming you in the sight of anyone. The whispered words of praise made your skin prickle and a shiver run through your body.

One of his hands settled on your back, pulling you towards him as he took one of your breasts between his lips. He gently tugged on your hard nipple with his teeth before rubbing it against his tongue, while his free hand pinched the other with a perfect mix of pressure and softness.

Your hips moved harder against him, seeking that perfect friction with each powerful thrust that made your body shudder with pleasure. Your head fell back, letting out moans and cries as his strong thigh repeatedly hit your clit and brought you to uncontrollable ecstasy.

“Hinata!” you screamed his name loudly, a desperate plea to climax. The movement of your hips grew faster and wilder, driven by a burning desire that consumed you. Your sensitive, swollen folds pressed against his thigh urgently, the juices of your arousal leaking from between them and soaking the fabric of his pants.

The pleasure was so intense that your words were jumbled together and coming out in incoherent babbles. His lips moved messily around your nipple, sucking and nibbling with deviously delicious skill while his other hand continued to torture the sensitive nub, making you even wetter than you already were. “Cum on my thigh,” he ordered you in a husky voice.

Your body was taken over by a loud moan that escaped your lips, dragging you into an orgasm that shook your entire being and made you tremble in Hinata’s arms. He stopped tending to your breasts, looking at you with desire as your watery eyes begged for his cock. But he wasn’t ready to give it to you yet, still wanting to see you come undone under his caresses before burying his member in your tight, wet hole.

“Please,” you begged, seeking his lips, but he stopped you with a firm hand holding your hair, keeping you in place. Hinata ran his tongue across your lips before gently tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. “No,” he said firmly, “You will be a good slut for me and take everything I have to give you.”

Hinata held your hips tightly and dropped you onto the bed, your back sinking slightly into the mattress as he stood in front of you. His eyes met yours for an instant, heavy with something beyond words, something raw, unadorned.

With quick, almost mechanical movements, he unbuttoned his shirt. Buttons came free one by one until the white fabric fell from his shoulders, sliding unceremoniously to the floor. He didn’t stop. His hands moved to his waist, undoing his belt and pushing the rest of his clothes away in a hurry, as if they were more of a nuisance than a prelude.

Each piece went to a different place in the room. The movements weren’t delicate or careful; they were impulsive, as if time wasn’t something he could afford to waste.

You watched him from the bed, motionless but expectant, following each movement with your eyes, analyzing, processing. There were no smiles or unnecessary gestures, just the immediacy of a shared moment, the silence being interrupted only by the sound of clothes falling to the floor.

When he was completely naked, Hinata stood there for a moment, his breathing heavy but controlled. There was a palpable tension in the air, not of tenderness, but of something more physical, more instinctive. Then he leaned towards you, his hands resting on the mattress on either side of your body, and let the next movement speak for itself.

With a determined movement, he took the wrinkled fabric of your skirt in his large hands and pulled it up, exposing your hips. The skirt was a work of art, too pretty to be carelessly removed.

His hands spread your legs, exposing your cute pussy to his view. His gaze rested on it with a mix of desire and admiration. “You have the most beautiful pussy,” he said in a deep, almost husky voice. His honesty was so direct that it left no room for doubt. “It’s like it was made to tempt me… always so perfect.”

One of his hands gently caressed the inside of your thigh, while he used two fingers to part your swollen folds and continue to enjoy the sight. Your pussy glistened with the moisture that continued to ooze out of it.

He used his thumb to rub your clit, and you were so sensitive from the recent orgasm that your hips pressed hard against the mattress in search of relief. But his firm hands wouldn’t let you close your legs. Suddenly, he slapped your pussy. The sound of your wet skin being slapped echoed throughout the room.

“I asked you to be a good slut for me,” he growls as two of his fingers plunge into your dripping hole up to the knuckles. Hinata’s touch didn’t stop; his pace, slow and deliberate at first, began to increase in intensity.

His skilled fingers moved with increasing speed, delving right into that sweet spot inside you that had your body arching almost immediately. His gaze remained fixed on your face, attentive to every sound, every movement you made. Your eyes fluttered shut instinctively, immersing you in a sea of ​​overwhelming sensations.

The change was instantaneous. You, who until then had maintained a fragile control, let out a stifled moan, followed by a succession of broken gasps that filled the room. Your body convulsed under Hinata's expert touches, while he continued to explore every corner of your being with his fingers and his burning gaze.

Your hands clung to the sheets with desperate strength, squeezing and twisting them between your fingers as they searched for something to anchor themselves to in the midst of ecstasy. The sheets gave way under your relentless grip, forming deep wrinkles where your strength marked them. The soft sound of the fabric tearing echoed in the room, mixing with your moans and sighs.

Moans and moans escaped your mouth in desperation, as you tried to pull your hypersensitive pussy away from Hinata's relentless movements. But he gave you no respite, he was determined to tear another orgasm from you. With each thrust, your inner walls tightened and unclenched in an endless dance, enveloping his fingers tightly. Hinata increased the pace of his movements, his fingers thrusting in and out with frantic speed, seeking out that sensitive area that made you shudder.

His curled fingers caressed and pressed against your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through your body. “You can take it, you have a greedy pussy,” he murmured, urging you to give yourself over completely to the ecstasy that awaited you.

"Your rubbery walls clenched tightly against his fingers, as your hips curved away from the bed in a sensual arch. Your voice spilled over into cries, calling his name over and over as your legs shook uncontrollably.

You couldn't help but moan at the overwhelming pleasure he was bringing you, the way he was finger fucking you so delicious it even hurt. "More, oh god," you moaned, your hand desperately reaching out to grab onto his wrist to find some support on him. "I need another, please," you begged desperately, because you knew two fingers would never be enough to match the feeling his fat cock was providing you.

Every single one of your moans and pleading words gave him the confirmation he wanted: you were completely lost in that moment, completely his. Hinata noticed the change in your breathing, his body beginning to shake with the unmistakable sign that you were close to climax.

You gasped, unable to keep yourself in silence, your moans increasing in volume and desperation. “No… please don’t stop…” you begged, gripping the sheets even tighter, completely lost in what he was doing to you.

Ecstasy exploded once again, a torrent of uncontrollable sensations flooding over you. Your walls clenched tightly around his expert fingers, as if they wanted to lose themselves in them forever. His every move was a symphony of pleasure, every touch an explosion of fire and passion. You couldn’t control the moans escaping your mouth, nor did you want to.

Gently, Hinata removed his fingers from your body and brought them to your lips. “Open your mouth and suck on them” was his command, and you obeyed immediately, tasting your own juices on his fingers. A moan escaped your lips at the feel of you on him. Hinata stepped away for a moment to rummage through his things until he found what he was looking for: a black tie. A smile spread across his face as he approached you with it in his hand.

“Come here,” he whispered, waiting for you. Without question, you walked over to him and climbed down from the bed until you were in front of his body. Hinata wrapped the soft fabric around you, covering your eyes. Firmly, he tied the tie around your eyes, securing it tightly, leaving you completely blind to what was to come. Your world instantly went dark, your other senses heightening. The sound of his breathing, the feel of the sheets, the feeling of your skin still warming from his touch.

“You can’t see now, but you will hear everything I do.” His voice was low, filled with absolute confidence, allowing you to feel safe next to him. “Now, get on your knees.”

With a mix of anticipation and submission, you complied immediately. Your body trembled slightly, unable to contain the excitement that coursed through your being. With your head slightly bowed and your hands resting on your thighs, you knelt before him. You could still feel your heart racing and the agitated exhale from everything you had already experienced up to that point.

“I want to taste you,” you said shamelessly, making clear your deepest desires. The thought of it alone made your mouth water. The boldness of your words made a cocky smile appear on Hinata’s lips, his gaze darkening as he took in the lust you emanated. One of your hands ran up his legs, wrapping around his hard cock greedily.

With a firm hand, you explore every vein and ridge of his cock, feeling the warmth and strength of his member against your palm. With your thumb, you playfully stroke the tip of his cock, feeling the precum leaking out onto your hand. Eager to taste him, you take a teasing lick along his length.

Hinata moves his hips against you in a rhythm that makes you crave more. Without a second thought, you take his member into your mouth, taking in as much as he can fit in while using your hand to circle what can’t fit in your mouth. You feel him tighten his grip on your hair as you bob your head up and down his length, stimulating his tip with your playful tongue.

With a sharp movement, Hinata began to thrust his hips into your mouth. His movements were quick and precise, hitting the back of your throat over and over as he gripped your hair tightly to keep you in place as he continued to fuck your throat mercilessly. His rough moans escaped between his parted lips, filling the air with a heady mix of lust and unbridled desire.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” His words were rough and raw, but his voice was filled with pleasure as he growled with each thrust. His hips moved in a frantic rhythm, thrusting back and forth in a constant cycle. His hands were firmly held onto your thighs, holding you up so you could keep up with the fluid motion of your mouth on him. Each sensation was intense and electrifying, making you wonder how you could last much longer.

With his mind clouded with desire, Hinata could only think of how good your warm, tight pussy would feel around his cock. He pulled his member out of your mouth, and with one swift movement, he pushed you off of him. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath.

“Get up,” Hinata ordered you huskily. He guided you towards the bed, waiting for you to climb in, and before you could turn around, he pushed your chest hard into the mattress, making it clear that he wanted to fuck you in doggy style. The tip of his cock slammed into your still sensitive pussy from his earlier ministrations, drawing an uncontrollable moan from you.

“Hinata!” you cried out loudly as you felt him thrust into you hard, his hips colliding with your raised ass cheeks for him. His hands held the swirling skirt at your waist to use as leverage to pull you into him with each thrust.

“You have the most exquisite pussy, baby. Fuck, you take me so well,” Hinata murmured between moans. One of his hands squeezed your ass and slapped it hard, while the other kneaded the sensitive skin. “Oh god, oh god, don’t stop,” you begged as pleasure took over your entire body.

A series of spanks echoed through the room, leaving red marks on your ass cheeks as Hinata thrust into you hard again and again. The steady rhythm of thrusting in and out of you made your skin crawl and your moans turned into screams of pleasure. Your inner walls clenched around him, refusing to let go. All you could think about was how well your husband was fucking you, his member pushing deep into your vagina and caressing your cervix, making you scream even louder.

Rebel tears fell onto the fabric of the tie tied to your eyes as you enjoyed each thrust. With one hand, you reached for your clit and stimulated it in circular motions, adding yet another layer of pleasure to your body.

You were sure that Hinata’s powerful hand would leave marks on your hips the next day, but that didn’t matter as he continued to pound you hard and passionately. Each crash against your inner walls made the sound of sloshing fill the room, and you clenched down harder seeking to milk him for all the pleasure possible.

“Please fill me,” you begged Hinata, moving your hips in rhythm with his and squeezing him even further inside you.

With one last thrust, Hinata let himself go and spilled inside you, filling you with his essence as you reached a climax so intense it left you shaking. Together, you lay there tangled in a mix of sweat and pleasure, until you finally caught your breath and broke apart to rest on the bed.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 13.5 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter sort of contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: curses, anxiety attacks, mentions of jungkook trying to unalive himself during the summer, mentions of therapy, explicit content: implied sex

☆word count: 4k

☆a/n: my baby jungkook realizing he was dumb not to tell OC about gabrielle :((( hope you guys enjoy this one!!

☆series masterpost

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook has been sitting in his car for thirty minutes, looking at the apartment where his love for you grew and died. 

Though he’s been making progress with his therapist, seeing it feels like maybe he’s drowning, and he hasn’t been able to get out of the car despite the fact that he needs to go to the bathroom. He pulls at his piercings, thinking about you. Are you at home, or are you out and about? He thinks you’re probably working, as Taehyung mentioned in passing that you finish work late on Fridays, yet Jungkook isn’t able to move.

Especially not as every treacherous emotion he has for you comes back to haunt him, squeezing his heart in his chest.

He’s been doing better. He’s been trying to cut himself some slack, and to build a healthy distance between him and his family. Though it’s hard, Lisa has helped, and Jungkook will forever be thankful for her friendship.

For her being there on that July night when he almost ended things.

Jungkook sighs, running a hand through his hair. He knows he has to go in - he’d rather not stay in his car and let the engine run while being parked for any longer. Not that he can’t afford the gas - he just thinks it’s a waste and bad for the environment, so he forces himself to turn off the engine.

It takes him a few more minutes to gather the courage to go in, and he waits until he’s literally starting to sweat his ass off before finally opening the door and stepping out of the car. A warm breeze welcomes him, ruffling his hair, and he shuts the door behind him, locking the car over his shoulder as he walks towards the apartment. 

He stops at the bottom of the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm down the anxiety that’s threatening to overtake him. He reminds himself that it’s just you - no matter the distance between the two of you, you’re the only person that he’s ever felt understood him like you did.

Not even Lisa gets him like you do.

Yet he doesn’t want the ache and the pain again, not when he’s barely made it out this summer. So climbing the stairs takes everything in him, as does opening the door. But then it’s like the apartment is a quiet haven, and he steps in, the cool air a stark relief from the summer heat outside. He shuts the door, cutting off the scream of a cicada in the distance, and then he’s back in the space where you fell in love, remembering every little moment he spent with you without knowing he was about to lose you.

He feels at peace. He doesn’t know why, or how, but he feels at peace for probably the first time this summer.

“Hello!”

The peace threatens to crumble, your voice echoing in Jungkook’s mind as a short silence follows. He holds on to the peace, refuses to let it go, and then you speak again.

“Do you need any help?”

He does. He needs you, again, always, yet he knows it’s over. Knows he has to prepare himself for your presence in his line of vision - you appear a few seconds later, stopping in the doorway to the kitchen.

You’re beautiful. Your hair is longer, your skin sun-kissed, and your cheeks have a slight pink dust to them that reminds him of how much he used to love teasing you, just so that he can see that blush. Your eyes widen, yet they aren’t as pained as they’d been the last time he’d seen you.

Like maybe the time apart has healed you, too.

Jungkook takes in the sight of you, lets his heart try to rise to panic in his chest. But he doesn’t listen to the panic, only breathes in and out until the wave has passed. 

“Y/n,” he says, murmurs, and he hates that he wanted to call you peach, like your real name feels wrong in his mouth somehow.

“Jungkook,” you reply.

Your voice… His memory did not do it justice at all, and the pain comes crashing back, a tsunami that almost makes Jungkook stumble back. But he holds on strong, a rock against the wave.

He nods once, taking off his shoes if only so that you can’t see the pain in his eyes anymore. You don’t move, and he feels your gaze on him the whole time, so much so that, when he straightens, he can’t help but ask, “How are you?”

Your gaze widens a little more, if that’s possible. “I’m okay.” You nod once. “How are you?”

Good. Bad. Horrible. I’ve missed you. I’m so sorry.

All answers he can’t give you, so he settles on, “I’m chill.”

He needs to go. Needs to not be looking at you anymore lest he does something stupid, like run up to you and hold on to you. He’d never let you go, and the sadness that slowly invades your gaze breaks him too much, like suddenly the ending came back to your mind.

Came back to his too, and the guilt chokes his lungs, so much so that he starts walking to his room.

But then he stops, catching sight of something familiar on the kitchen table, and the pain recedes, replaced by the peace that welcomed him home. 

You’re eating Buldak noodles. You, who couldn’t stand heat last semester, are eating the noodles he used to make for you. It warms his chest, reminds him that not everything ended then, and he smiles softly.

“Want something to eat?” you ask.

It hurts. Far more than it should - he doesn’t deserve your kindness. And even though he wants to, even though he wishes he could pick up the pieces of you and him, he forces himself to say, “Thanks, but I gotta unpack.”

And then he walks the rest of the way to his room, his heart rate skyrocketing in his chest - he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, yet he can’t move. He’s frozen there, feeling your eyes on him, wishing he could turn around and tell you that he spent every day this summer wishing he could rewind time and save you both the heartbreak. But he’s a coward, and he can’t say it, so he finishes walking into his room and closes the door behind himself.

He leans against it as panic wins once again, and he slowly slides to the ground, trying to focus on his breathing. On the grounding techniques his therapist taught him, and a few minutes later, he’s able to dampen his panic, his anxiety, until he’s able to breathe normally again.

If that’s how this semester is going to be, he has no clue how he’ll survive.

*****

Jungkook is nervous. He doesn’t know why he suggested to hang out with Lisa while everyone is going to a party at some frat he does not care about.

Actually, he does know why. His therapist suggested that he should try talking to other people, and he hasn’t been able to approach anyone, his feelings for you still as strong as ever, so Lisa it is.

She’s sweet. She’s been there for him through hell this summer, and some part of him feels like he owes her something. So when she asked if that was a date, Jungkook said they could try this one time and see where it goes. Lisa seemed unsure - she’s started talking to Mingyu more, and though they haven’t hung out just the two of them yet, Jungkook thinks it might be coming soon.

So maybe that, more than anything, is the reason why he asked Lisa, and not someone else. Because he knows that, despite the fact that she used to have feelings for him, it’s been morphing into friendship more than anything now, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.

Still, he worries. Still, he’s nervous. Because it’s not you, and though Lisa is a good friend, he doesn’t feel like he can fully be himself when it comes to her. Not like he could be with you, and though his therapist said he shouldn’t compare, he can’t help himself.

No one is ever going to compare to you.

Jungkook breathes in and out, wipes his hands on his pants, and then Lisa is arriving, and he remembers that she’s just a friend. That he has nothing to worry about when it comes to her.

When she asks him if she can kiss him, Jungkook doesn’t find it in him to say no. She kisses him all wrong, yet it’s been months. It’s been months and he should be moving on - you clearly have been. Your absence in the apartment, in his life, is proof of it. So he kisses Lisa back, tries to tell himself that it makes his heart race in his chest like kissing you does.

He hasn’t had sex since you, and it shows. He’s messy, unpracticed, and halfway through he realizes that he wants you. He wants to be with you, wants to hold you. Lisa notices his unease, notices he can’t stay hard, and she cups his cheeks and says, “We can stop, JK.”

He could cry. He could cry as he pulls out, and says, “I’m sorry.”

She smiles gently. “It’s okay, Jungkook. Don’t apologize, I get it.”

She gets up, throws his t-shirt on and Jungkook hates the way that it looks on her - it looked a lot better on you. While she goes to the bathroom, he tries to keep his panic at bay, to remind himself that he did nothing wrong tonight.

That no matter how much he loves you, he has to at least try and move on.

But then the impossible happens. The front door opens, and before you even speak, Jungkook knows it’s you. He hates it - hates that you had to come here tonight, to witness his weakness, and he quickly puts a pair of grey sweatpants on before walking out of his room.

You’re out of breath, yet you’re as beautiful as ever. Even more so, if only because you’re here, in the apartment where you belong, so close to him he could touch you with just a few steps forward.

“Y/n?” Jungkook lets out.

You were bent over, and you straighten, trying to catch your breath. Your eyes are shining with emotion, and Jungkook breaks. He breaks again, always - he doesn’t deserve you looking at him like this right now.

“Jungkook,” you say in between two heaving breaths.

Frowning, Jungkook scans your features. He tries to understand why you’re here tonight, why you’re looking at him like maybe he hung the stars in your night sky. You’re smiling, and he looks at that too, lets it remind him of why he fell in love with you in the first place.

“Shit,” you let out. “Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

You start laughing, and Jungkook is far too confused. It’s like he stepped in an absurd movie, and he’s not in on the joke. Especially not as he knows Lisa is bound to step out of the bathroom eventually.

“She told me,” you say.

He cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“Gabrielle told me everything.” 

You’re blinking back tears, and Jungkook keeps on shattering. Because now that the truth is out you’re back, and he realizes maybe he should have listened to Gabrielle. Maybe he should have told you, if only for you not to be here tonight.

“Kook?”

It’s the heartbreak in the nickname. Jungkook’s heart stops beating in his chest, and he feels like someone’s banging on his skull, telling him how stupid he is.

“Y/n, I…” he trails off. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

He sees the moment you realize. You look down, see Lisa’s shoes, and you freeze. You fully freeze, and it looks like you’re not even breathing anymore. Lisa chooses this moment to step out of the bathroom, and it takes you a few seconds before glancing at her.

“Oh.”

There is so much pain in that word alone that Jungkook wants to die. He reckons, he should have died that night just so that he could avoid this heartbreak for you. And he hates himself so, so much for inviting Lisa over tonight. For not waiting just a little longer.

What would have happened if Lisa wasn’t here tonight?

“Hey, Y/n,” Lisa says awkwardly, her eyes darting to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were here.”

For a moment, Jungkook wants to scream at her. To tell her that she should have just stayed in the bathroom, should have just climbed out the window. But he’s mute, unable to form a single syllable.

“I live here,” you reply.

Lisa senses the pain in your voice. She clearly does, because she looks uncomfortable as all hell, like she wants to disappear through the floor. 

“I’m sorry, I…” she trails off. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”

There’s an awkward silence - Jungkook is convinced he can hear your heart breaking, though that might just be his. Then you say, “No worries.”

You take a deep breath, and Jungkook looks at your profile. Tries to commit you to memory, because he knows you’re going to leave again. He still can’t speak - he wants to beg you to stay, but there’s a lump in his throat and water in his lungs, and all he can do is watch you.

You pat your pockets, tears pooling in your gaze. “I think I forgot my keys at the party.”

When you meet Jungkook’s gaze, he sees a mirror in your eyes. Sees himself breaking, sees you breaking, and he wants it all to stop. He wants to forget the pain, wants to be able to tell you he loves you and that he’s sorry. But he feels like words wouldn’t be enough, not right now, and he remains silent.

Not that he could speak anyway.

“How did you…” Lisa trails off, but she doesn’t finish.

You turn around then, walking back outside and shutting the door carefully behind you. Jungkook just stays there, unable to move, not when he’s breaking all over again. He wants to run after you, but all he can do is take a shuddering breath in, right as a tear rolls down his cheek.

“Shit.”

Lisa crosses the space between the two of them. “Go sit on your bed.”

Jungkook tries to breathe, but his throat constricts, and black dots flash in his vision.

“Fuck.”

“Jungkook, deep breaths,” Lisa says, and she tugs on his hand to pull him to his bed. 

“I can’t…” he trails, trying to breathe, but it’s like he’s breathing pure nitrogen. “I can’t breathe.”

He sits on his bed, and Lisa stands next to him. “What colour is the light?”

He doesn’t know. He doesn’t fucking know - did he truly lose you again? He’s dumb, stupid, foolish. An asshole and everything in between.

He’s a fucking coward.

“Jungkook, what colour is the light?” Lisa says again.

“I don’t know…”

“You do,” she insists, and the firm inflection of her tone makes Jungkook look up at her. “You do, Jungkook, just tell me.”

He glances at the ceiling. “Red.”

Lisa nods encouragingly. “Now, tell me one thing you can touch.”

He frowns, though his hands drop to the cover of his bed. “My bed.”

“Yes.” She glances around. “Something you can smell?”

The frown deepens. “I can’t really smell anything, my nose is blocked.”

She offers him a small smile, and Jungkook looks at it curiously. And then he realizes he can breathe again, and oxygen rushes to his lungs.

“Holy shit,” he curses. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Lisa says. “I got you.”

She sits next to him, and there’s a silence while Jungkook contemplates his throbbing heart. He wonders if you’re aching too - he hopes you don’t have anxiety attacks like he does. Though, to be fair, this is the first he’s had in a few weeks.

He takes a deep breath, and then he glances at Lisa. “What am I supposed to do?”

Though the anxiety has passed, his eyes fill with tears, and Lisa watches him carefully for a few seconds. There’s a flash of hurt in her gaze, but Jungkook thinks he might have imagined it.

“Talk to her,” she says. “Text her that you want to talk to her.”

“She saw you…” Jungkook whispers.

Lisa sighs. “She did.”

“How am I supposed to justify that?”

Lisa doesn’t reply right away, and Jungkook holds her gaze. He sees it - the hurt flashes so bright he can’t say he imagines it, and he gulps.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“Listen, Jungkook,” Lisa carefully says. “I… I’m happy I’ve been there for you in the last few months. But tonight… I think we both agree it was a mistake. And I wish I could help you still, but I think right now I also need to think about myself.” She looks away, and silver lines her gaze. “I’ve always known we weren’t going to happen. You just took me by surprise by asking to hang out tonight. But I think it’s best if I take my distance from you.”

Guilt - new guilt - crushes Jungkook, and all he can do is nod his head. And he agrees with her anyway.

He wouldn’t be able to hang out with her anymore.

“So I don’t know how you can justify that to Y/n,” she adds. “I really don’t know, but I think you guys need to talk.” She meets Jungkook’s gaze, smiling sadly. “And I really hope things go well for the two of you.”

“Liz…” 

She offers him a single, small nod. “It’s okay, JK. I just want you to be happy.” She chuckles, and then she wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now.”

“No, don’t be,” Jungkook immediately reassures her. “I…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, not really knowing what he was going to say.

“We can still be friends,” she says. “I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

Jungkook nods. “Okay. Yes, of course we can still be friends.”

Lisa smiles again before looking down at herself. “Well, I better get dressed.”

All Jungkook can do is nod again, and he watches as she picks up her clothes and then heads to the bathroom. 

In the meantime, Jungkook grabs his phone and goes to the messages. He finds your conversation, clicks on it, and prepares to type a message.

But he can’t figure out what to say. He just stares at his phone, panic threatening to overcome his senses again, and then he shuts it off, tossing it to the side as Lisa walks out of the bathroom.

Even a little later, when Lisa has left to head home, Jungkook still doesn’t know what to say. So he texts his therapist, asks if they can have an appointment tomorrow, and then he puts some anime on, hoping that it’ll chase the heartbreak from his chest.

It doesn’t, and he falls asleep to the sound of Tanjiro fighting a demon, only to be woken up when Ariane and Taehyung come back home in the middle of the night.

Read chapter 13 here!

☆☆☆☆☆

:((((( i promise the angst is slowly getting resolved! even if it doesn't seem like it rn :')

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate

[a-kaash-me-outside]

₊˚⊹ ⏱︎ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴍᴇ? ⏱︎ ⊹˚₊

♡ ft. multi. (written w toji and atsumu in mind idc). ♡ wc: 1.8k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: afab reader she/her pronouns, gendered pet names, sleepy sex, could be vaguely dubcon reader is very tired, mutual masturbation kinda?, dirty talk, established relationship, "just a sadistic little game"

―୨୧⋆ ˚ (⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 two seconds ago you were fast asleep, the cutest thing in the entire world. he just really had to tell you that, that's all. 𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ (⸝⸝ᴗ﹏ᴗ⸝⸝) ˚⋆୨୧―

you know it doesn’t make any sense, but before you’ve even woken up you swear you can hear his request like a dream, hazy and light and mumbled against your skin. when you open your eyes and try to take in your surroundings, the subtle smirk on his face and the tangled blankets around you and the breeze of the fan, his voice is skipping in your head.

“baby, hey, need something.”

you bring your palm to your half-closed eyes, hoping that the soft pressure of the side of your wrist and backs of your fingers will rid you of some of this confusion. your attempts to produce a questioning hum are caught in your throat, not enough energy for the vibrations to travel completely to your tongue. you swallow, his name getting trapped right alongside them. 

if you were any more awake, you could see how he’s looking at you, clock the mischief sown into every one of his features and the way that he’s dragging his nails down your side, digging them into the fat of your hips. he leans down to kiss you and it lingers longer than a typical wake-up peck does, much longer actually. 

“can you do something for me?” he asks, and when you don’t answer right away, your thoughts lost to the recency of slumber, he tries again, “need you to touch yourself.”

surely you didn’t hear him right. 

“what?” you croak, voice weak as you push your hair out of your face. you breathe a laugh, a smile beginning to form on your lips. the earnestness of his request isn’t registering with you, not in this state. “baby, what?” you sigh, blinking slowly up at him.

“was just laying here watchin’ you sleep, thinkin’ bout how cute you are ‘n how cute it would be if you were playing with yourself like this,” he says, kissing the corner of your smile that’s now fading into shy confusion, a soft warmth spreading through your chest and cheeks. 

“i-,” you huff, “hm?” you ask, moving to sit up, but he presses a kiss into your shoulder before coaxing you to stay in this position. he grips the side of the blanket, peeling it off of your body, untangling it from your limbs and kicking it to the side. it’s cold. you open your mouth to pout, reaching for the blankets on instinct, but he shakes his head. he drags his fingertips up and down your arms, pulls the hem of your sleep shirt up over your chest, watches the bounce of your tits as they’re exposed. 

“shit,” he groans, “you look so fucking good.” the cool wind from the fan is ghosting over your skin, previously warm from the blanket and newly warm from the wa y your boyfriend is talking to you this morning. “god, look at your pretty nipples getting all hard, fuck. your body’s reacting before you can even think, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your neck.

he’s right. your brain is two steps behind, the whimper comes from your throat before the feeling of his tongue on your neck even registers. your hand is moving before you remember making the decision to succumb to the moment, to his asks. in fact, both of your hands are moving, one crawling down your stomach and the other scratching at your own throat and chest. 

before you’ve even snuck your hand in your waistband, he presses a kiss to your ear. “y’know what else i was thinking about?” the hum is not lost this time. it’s high-pitched and curious and the cutest thing he’s ever heard. he laughs, low against your skin. “thought about being kinda mean to you.”

this wakes you up a little more, turning your head towards him as your hands stop roaming. “what do you mean?” you ask, your first full sentence of the morning. 

“start playing with yourself, pretty, then i’ll tell you, huh?” he coos, and you almost object but you see the look on his face and it’s screaming to test him, so you don’t. 

you slip your fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, using your two to spread your lips apart. fuck, when did you get this wet? while he was talking to you? as you were waking up? before that? you whimper as you press the pad of your middle finger into your clit, pushing it between your sticky folds until the tip just barely enters your fluttering hole.

you press your head back into the pillow, already coming undone just by teasing yourself. you’re so enveloped in the feeling of your own fingers that when you feel his lips on you again, on your shoulder this time, you jump a little.

“that feel good?” he asks, absolutely drinking in the sight. you answer in quick nods and panting exhales. “good enough to come in a minute?” 

“minute?” you question, almost stopping, but even in your state, you clock the seriousness in his tone, or maybe you’ve just known him so well for so long. instead, you start moving quicker, not teasing yourself anymore, but rubbing small circles against your sloppy clit. 

he notices the change in your pace and he smirks. “you’re so smart, aren’t you?” he kisses you again, “yknow that there’s a catch here, huh?” you nod. you’re not sure you could’ve formulated it into words like that, but yes, whatever he just said. “thought you’d look so cute like this, fumbling to make yourself come so quickly, all disoriented and needy.” 

you can feel his cock straining against his boxers, pressed up against your hip, softly grinded into your side as you quietly moan around your own fingers. “thought it’d be even better if i gave you some higher stakes, really made you try.” 

“what stakes?” you ask, trying to focus on the conversation as you slip two fingers inside of yourself, pushing deeper and deeper, curling against your walls, attention split between hanging onto of his every word and feeling the pleasure build in your core.

“good question, baby,” he praises, hand slipping into his boxers, sucking in air through his teeth as he wraps his fist around his length. “you make yourself come in less than a minute or i won’t touch you for a week.”

your mind flashes back to the last time he gave you this exact trade-off. you didn’t take it seriously then, rolled your eyes, laughed a little bit, called his bluff. you know better now. your movements, once lazy and teasing, are now as direct and intentional as they can be while your body is still waking, muscles still warming up.

still, you’re driving your fingers inside of you quickly, switching back and forth between fucking yourself and playing with your clit, your other hand groping at your tits, rolling your nipple between the pads of your fingers. what you thought was going to be a lazy morning has turned out to be just a sadistic little game. 

“good girl,” he says, eyes moving all over your body. he doesn’t even know where to look. no matter where his gaze falls, he wins. your face, screwed in determination; your hand kneading at your tit, thumb flicking over your hard nipple; your fingers fucking in and out of yourself. 

he doesn’t even need to see what’s happening beneath the fabric of your panties, he’s throbbing in his palm just watching the outline of your fingers. he can see your knuckles straining against the cloth and the dark spot growing bigger and bigger as you keep fingering your needy hole.

“time’s almost up, pretty girl,” he says. he starts counting down. in between numbers, he asks, “does my baby want some help?” 

you whine at the thought of his hands taking over or just adding to the sensations. you nod, a strangled, “yes, please, fuck, please, baby.” the longest string of words you’ve said all morning. 

he doesn’t touch you though, leans in closer, breath soft against your ear, “next time i think i’ll just fuck you, make you come as the first thing you get to do when you wake up.” your inhale gets caught in your throat as you nod along to his words, closing your eyes tightly to focus on every syllable. “can see how messy you are through your panties ‘n i can’t believe i’m not deep inside of you right now, feelin’ it all on my cock.”

“but next time,” he says, “10,” he interrupts himself, “i don’t think you’ll need a whole minute, not if you have my cock, right?” he asks, “9,” he interrupts again, “probably only need 45 seconds, huh? 30? you could do that, right?” he grunts, “8.”

you move your hand from your tit to his forearm, trying so hard to hold on, but you can barely form a fist. everything is so much, the pleasure and the frustration of telling your fingers to move and the delay between the actions and fuck. 

“7,” he says, “god, i could come in a minute too, just from feeling your creamy pussy on my cock and seeing you like this.”

you don’t need the 6 extra seconds, he can keep em. you come around your own fingers, imagining them as his cock even though they’re nothing in comparison. your body is on fire and your core is tight and he can’t keep his hands off of you right now. you look as cute and perfect as he thought you would, as he envisioned all morning, as you come against the, now soaking wet, fabric of your panties.

the come down takes twice as long, you’re convinced. you exhale, mind finally running at what feels like a normal pace as you take note of your state, of your hand in your panties and the mess on the insides of your thighs and your boyfriend with a devilishly proud grin on his face. “fuck,” you say, voice steady once again as your eyes close in bliss. you move to roll over or sit up, but you only get as far as starting to move your hand from between your legs when your knuckles brush up against something. 

when you open your eyes again, you see him towering over top of you, a slow hand being placed on your hip, the other maneuvering you onto your side as he picks up your leg and puts it on his shoulder. “told ya i could come in a minute too, right? from feelin’ your creamy come-,” he grunts as his flushed head presses inside of you, “fuck, your sloppy, fuck,” his hips stutter as he snaps them against your skin, “perfect snug fuckin’ walls around me, shit.”

“gonna time me?”

♡ think' bout: toji, atsumu, geto, tsukki, gojo, oikawa, + ur fav ♡

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

[sunrenity]

STICK TOGETHER  、LHS

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ no matter what, you two will always stick together.

𝓁ee 𝒽eeseungㅤ✶ㅤ female readerㅤ ｡｡｡ ㅤest relationship, boyfriend! hee, fluffㅤⓘㅤskinship, confession, kissingㅤwcㅤ1233ㅤℬookshelfㅤzehra's note.ㅤso so sorry for not being active that much 😓 i'm on vacation with my family which is why i haven't been active and didn't write & post anything for a week (or more...).

the sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a canvas of indigo sky dotted with glittering stars. the air is cool and crisp, and the quiet hum of the evening embraces the two of you as you sit on the rooftop of your childhood home. the very rooftop where countless memories were written — memories of scraped knees, stolen glances, and a love that blossomed between innocence and time.

you lean back, your head resting gently against heeseung’s shoulder. his arm, warm and familiar, drapes protectively around your waist as if he's afraid to let go, afraid you might slip through his fingers like sand. he has always been like that, ever since you can remember — always holding on, always close. and you, in turn, never mind. how could you, when heeseung’s presence feels like home?

“you remember when we used to sneak up here and count the stars?” you muse, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

heeseung chuckles softly, the sound sending gentle vibrations through your body as he turns his head to press a lingering kiss against your temple. “how could i forget? you were terrible at counting back then,” he teases, his breath warm against your skin.

you nudge him playfully, smiling despite yourself. “hey, i’ve improved since then.”

“mm, sure you have,” he replies, his voice playful but laced with that tenderness you’ve come to recognize as his way of showing just how much he cares

the stars seem to blink in approval as silence settles comfortably between you. there’s no need for words when you can simply bask in the warmth of each other’s company. and that’s how it has always been. from childhood best friends to lovers, your connection has always been a steady undercurrent, strong and enduring, no matter what life throws at you.

heeseung is the boy who shared his snacks with you during recess, who helped you patch up your knees when you fell from your bike, and who wiped away your tears when the world felt too overwhelming. and in return, you’ve been his anchor, his constant. through scraped knees and awkward first crushes, through heartache and growing pains, you’ve stuck together, never wavering.

and now, as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, followed by another to your jaw, you feel that familiar flutter in your chest — the same one you felt the first time he’d shyly confessed his feelings to you under this very sky, so many years ago.

you were seventeen, the world still a mystery yet to unfold, and heeseung was by your side, as he always had been. the two of you had climbed up to the rooftop on a summer night, the heat of the day lingering in the air, but the breeze was cooler up there, wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

heeseung sat beside you, quieter than usual, his hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt. you glanced at him, noticing the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, a tell-tale sign that something was weighing on his mind. but he hadn’t said anything yet, and you didn’t want to push. so, instead, you gazed up at the sky, letting the silence speak for itself.

minutes passed like this, and just when you thought maybe the moment would drift by like any other, heeseung took a deep breath. he turned toward you, his eyes wide and unsure but filled with a softness that had always been there, even when you were just kids.

"y/n..." he started, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the words themselves were fragile. "i... there’s something i’ve been wanting to tell you for a while."

you blinked, heart skipping a beat as you turned to face him fully. his face was bathed in the yellow light of the sun, and in that moment, you could see every bit of the boy you had grown up with — the one who used to steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, the one whose laughter was always the loudest when you were around, and the one who, in that moment, looked like he was about to step into something new.

heeseung swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he leaned closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. "i think... i’ve liked you for a long time. more than a friend." his words were tentative, a confession laced with uncertainty, but there was a conviction behind them that made your breath catch in your throat.

your heart raced as you processed his words, a warmth blossoming in your chest. this was heeseung — your best friend, your confidant — and yet, in that moment, you saw him differently, as if a veil had been lifted between you.

before you could find the words to respond, he leaned in, hesitating only for a moment, his breath mingling with yours. his lips brushed softly against your cheek, tentative and sweet, and your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation. a second passed, and then he moved just slightly, placing a delicate kiss on your jaw. your skin tingled where his lips had touched, and you felt something inside you shift, like pieces falling into place.

it was subtle, but it was everything.

he pulled back, eyes searching yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. "i’m not sure how to do this... but i know that i don’t want to lose you," he confessed, his voice barely louder than the wind rustling the trees below.

you smiled, feeling the same flutter in your chest you felt whenever heeseung was near — only now, it was different. now, you knew exactly what it was.

you reached out, taking his hand in yours, fingers lacing together as they had done so many times before. but this time, it felt new. it felt like a beginning. "you won’t lose me," you whispered back, your heart steady now. "we’ll figure this out... together."

the smile that broke across heeseung’s face then was brighter than the sun above, and as he leaned in to press his forehead against yours, you knew, without a doubt, that this was only the start of something even more beautiful between you.

back then, neither of you knew how to navigate the transition from best friends to something more. it had been awkward at first, filled with nervous laughter and shy touches. but heeseung, in his gentle way, had always known how to make you feel safe, how to make everything feel right.

his lips brush against your neck now, and a soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining like they have done a thousand times before. and yet, the simple act still sends warmth flooding through your veins, a sensation that never grows old.

“we’re going to be okay, right?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but you know he hears it. he always does.

heeseung shifts slightly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to memorize every detail, every curve of your face. his gaze is intense, but not overwhelming, filled with a quiet determination that makes your heart stutter. “of course we are,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “we always have been, and we always will be.”

[virtualreader]

under the stars

rickgrimesxfem!reader

summary: somehow the night watch shifts got jumbled, resulting in a maybe-not-so-forced proximity with the married, appealing leader of the group.

word count: 2,2k.

genre: smut, and a lil' bit of angst.

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, masturbation, adultery, etc. (not proofread)

a/n: this was requested by an anon, I really hope it is what you wanted, enjoy!

+18 content below, minors dni, nsfw, please do not read it if you're uncomfortable with this topic!

The night sky laid before your eyes. It was the only thing that had improved with the outbreak. There were plenty of stars that night; they had always been there, but you just couldn't see them.

Contemplating the bright stars made everything seem right as if you were still enjoying summer nights in your backyard. But you were not. You were on watch.

The silence around you was only broken by the crickets and the occasional distant howling of the wind. The moon above shone brightly, casting eerie shadows around you, and the first dewdrops settled down onto the wisps of grass.

Suddenly, you heard a twig snap, and your heart skipped a beat. You turned around and saw Rick approaching you, his brows drew together as he asked, "Whatcha doing up there, y/n?”

“Watch duty,” you spoke simply.

Rick found it strange; he could have sworn that it was his turn tonight. As a matter of fact, it was. However, Glenn had asked for you to cover his shift, as they would not return until late into the night.

"Wasn't I supposed to be on watch tonight?" he asked, shifting his weight to his right leg.

You observed him from your perch atop Dale's RV. His hands rested on his hips, and a substantial amount of blood stained his clothes. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his torso, highlighting the physical exhaustion he must have been experiencing.

"Were you?" you rubbed your forehead. "Glenn told me you couldn't make it here in time for your shift.”

"Mind if I stay?" Rick asked. "I won't be able to sleep a wink anyway, and I think you could use someone to talk to, don't you?”

After accepting his proposal, Rick climbed up the handrails to sit beside you. With your feet hanging off the vehicle, you felt the cold breeze hit your skin, but it didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Instead, you welcomed the refreshing feeling, which provided a momentary escape from the tension and stress of everyday life in this new world.

You observed Rick as he took in the view, his expression softening as he relaxed, taking a moment to appreciate the beauty of the world around him.

As Rick sat beside you on top of the RV, you both found yourselves lost in a conversation that went on for hours. It was a rare moment of tranquility in a world filled with chaos, and you were grateful for it.

"You know what I miss the most from the old world?" he asked, breaking the settled silence.

You looked at him, nodding to encourage him to continue.

"Coffee," he said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "There was something about that bitter taste that just made everything better. It was like a warm hug in a cup, and it's something that you just can't replicate with anything else." He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "I remember how people used to line up for hours just to get their hands on a cup of coffee from their favorite shop. It was a social event, a way to connect with others over a shared love of caffeine. And now, it's just gone.”

You kept on talking for a while, exchanging memories from the time before the apocalypse. Although it felt like only minutes had passed since he arrived, you found yourself opening up to him, telling him about your life before the dead walked the earth.

You reminisced about renting movies every Saturday night, a ritual you followed religiously. You described dancing around the house with a broom in your hands, singing along to your favorite 80s songs. You explained how you would wander the neighborhood streets for hours with your dog, even on rainy days.

Rick's eyes drifted towards the horizon, and you could see the sadness etched onto his face. "I miss it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I miss my family, my friends, my job…everything. I miss everything."

You placed a hand on his shoulder, offering comfort. "We all do, Rick. We all do."

"Sometimes I wonder if it's worth it," Rick said, his voice heavy with emotion. "All the fighting, all the pain…for what? Just to survive another day?"

You turned towards him and rested your hand on his arm. "It's worth it, Rick. We have to keep going, for ourselves and for the people we care about.”

"You know," you began, hesitating as you tried to gather your thoughts. "I've been thinking a lot about the world we live in, and how chaotic and violent it can be. It's easy to feel lost and alone like we're all just struggling to survive. But then I look at you, and I realize that you make me feel safe, protected, and cared for." you said, voicing the thought that had been brooding in your mind. "And I believe I speak for all of us when I say we appreciate you as our leader.”

Your cheeks blossomed with red as Rick’s enlarged pupils bored into your soul as if he could read through you. His mere presence was enough to put you in a fight-or-flight mode, making you aware of an attraction you had not acknowledged before.

Rick Grimes was not chosen to be the group leader - it was a role that he fell into almost organically. His rise to leadership was not unexpected. He had always been a man of great integrity and his strong moral compass meant that he was a natural choice to lead the group. Rick's unwavering commitment to the group's survival and his ability to remain level-headed in times of crisis meant that he quickly gained the trust of his peers.

The graze of a hand in your tight startled you, averting your eyes from the sky that had you entranced, to Rick's face. He took advantage of the moment and reached out to gently caress your cheek. You felt a rush of emotions as your heart began to race.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as Rick leaned in closer, responding to the adulterous desire you had ignited within his heart. His breath felt hot on your skin, and you could hear the beating of your own heart as your lips met in a passionate kiss, finally acknowledging the feelings that had been brewing between you for days. Though the world may have been gone, at that moment, everything felt right.

As you embraced the married man, your heart was racing with excitement. You could feel his lips on yours and his arms tightly wrapped around you. But as you both pulled away, a sudden realization dawned on you. What were you doing? You were kissing a married man, and his wife laid just a few feet away, sound asleep. The guilt and shame crept up inside you, and you couldn't help but feel regretful for your actions. It was clear that this was anything but right.

“I-I’m sorry. I should not-” you breathed, your voice trailing off as you struggled to find the right words. You looked down at your feet, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You had always been good at thinking on your feet, but at this moment, your thoughts were scattered and disjointed.

"Don't do that," he said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. You tried to look away as if avoiding his gaze would excuse your immoral actions. But the hand he had on the side of your face prevented you from doing so, gently forcing you to look at him as he confessed, "Don’t apologize for something we've both obviusly wanted for a while now.”

And as if he knew what was going through your mind, he added, "Please don't worry about Lori," his voice soft and comforting. "Our relationship had decayed well before you and I met, so don't beat yourself up. If anything, that responsibility rests on me." His words were like a balm to your soul, a soothing reassurance to your worries, easing the fears that had been gnawing at you.

As the night wore on, you found yourself ogling at Rick's physical appearance. You couldn't help but notice the veins on his arms or the way his shirt clung to his chest, and the feeling of desire for him was overwhelming. You knew that your actions were wrong, but in this world, who was there to judge? You leaned in to kiss him again, but this time, something was different. This time, you knew that there was no going back.

When he turned you over onto your back, your heart raced with anticipation. You felt his hands slide down to your hips, gently but firmly holding you in place. As your lips remained locked in a passionate embrace, you couldn't help but shiver from the cool metal of the RV's roof against your skin. You felt a deep connection as he looked into your eyes, his gaze burning with desire and affection. In that moment, you knew that this was more than just physical attraction, but a true emotional bond between two people.

"Don’t make a sound," he muttered pulling away as he placed a finger over your mouth, hurriedly getting free from his dirty shirt. You had to be indeed quiet as to not be heard by the rest of the group, especially his wife.

After struggling with the zipper, you finally freed yourself from your tight-fitting pants. As you did, Rick's mischievous grin grew wider, his eyes lingering on the laced panties that you were wearing underneath. The silky fabric felt smooth against your skin, and you couldn't help but blush as Rick's gaze lingered on you. The enflaming feeling of a light gust of wind grazing your cunt sending a shiver down your spine.

"God damn it," Rick whispered. "You look so good beneath me.”

Rick began exploring your body with his hands, savoring every inch of your skin. He slowly lifted your shirt above your braless chest. You let out a soft moan as he ran his tongue over your nipple, causing your back to arch lightly at the sensation. His touch was electric and you couldn't resist the urge to pull him closer, wanting to feel more of him against your body.

Your hands whirled in the back of his head, feeling the texture of his coiled hair in your fingers as they intertwined with it. You felt a rush of passion as your lips connected once again, savoring the taste of his. Your fingers fumbled with his zipper, your eagerness growing with each passing second. His tongue met yours in a frenzied dance, both of you desperate for more.

Once you’d made your way to his hard cock you caressed his bulge, feeling it grow with each passing moment, and you looked up at his face, anticipating his reaction. A muted growl escaped his mouth as he quivered under your touch. You continued to stroke him, your movements becoming more and more deliberate as you worked him closer and closer to the edge.

“Shut up, you’re gonna get us caught.” you ordered him after he moaned loudly , smugness emanating from you.

“That’s gonna be hard if your hand stays there any longer, pretty girl.”

His hands slipped under your panties, the circling movements of his fingers over your clit delivering shockwaves through your entire body. You couldn't help but gasp as you felt your walls tighten around his fingers, and the pleasure continued to build with each passing moment.

Rick's voice was hoarse as he leaned over you, his eyes dark with desire. "You are so ready for me," he whispered, his fingertips tracing a path down your body until they reached your entrance. The anticipation was almost unbearable as he teased you, sending shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but feel like a dirty girl as he continued his ministrations, but you didn't want it to stop.

He entered you slowly, his fingers teasing your entrance until you were begging for more. When he finally filled you completely, you gasped from the intense pleasure that coursed through your body. It was unlike anything you had ever felt before, and you knew in that moment that you were completely his.

The way he moved inside you was a dance of passion, each thrust taking you higher and higher until you were flying. You clung to him, your hands running over his back as you surrendered to the rapture that he was giving you.

As you both reached the peak of ecstasy, he crushed beside you, his body slick with sweat and his chest heaving. The warmth of his skin against yours was both comforting and exhilarating, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer to him, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

As the night turned into dawn, the two of you lay entwined on the roof of the RV, the cool breeze of the night forgotten. The guilt that had been plaguing you had subsided, replaced only by a feeling of contentment and euphoria. It was a moment that you knew you would never forget, a moment that would forever be etched in your memory as a reminder of the beauty that could still be found in a world filled with chaos.

Perhaps the scintillating night sky was not the only great thing the outbreak bought into your life.