#god the atmosphere of that one could be so perfectly dark

[lilacxquartz]

also a strong urge to write about what if the merger actually happened because i feel like there’s a lot of missed horror potential in jjk

[mingi-s-dimples]

Save the best for last - OT8 ATEEZ

KINKTOBER DAY 30, REQ. BY anon (last day!!!)

~"domot8 x freader where atz is mafia/ceo! reader is in a relationship with san but they are both okay in letting the other members join in the fun..;) however san likes to talk dirty in a way with hints of possessiveness to remind reader even though the other 7 fucks her, she’s still his hehe he also loves watching the members wreck the reader btw…. pls make it as filthy and kinky as possible! really go crazy with it! some ideas(if it helps-i hope it’s no burden): dirty talk, hair pulling, spit, multiple creampies, dp, squirting, exhibitionism, voyeur, choking, big dick!, bulge kink, mirror sex(?) and so on….. 😅" - I hope it's crazy enough for you anon.. for me it sure was 😂🤍

pairing: bf mafia ceo!san x gf fem!reader x ot7 (the other members) subordinates of San

genre: 18+, pure filth, gang bang

summary: San's men want to have your way with you and ask for permission and.. when San also sees you'd be eager to do it, he saves himself for last only to remind you who you had always belonged to.

wc: 8.4k (I am so sorry I went fucking overboard 🧍‍♀️)

warnings: okay prepare, mafia!au, gang bang, foursome, 5some, double penetration, multiple creampies, dirty talk/degradation (only from San), she sucks two at the same time, she takes two&two at the same time (hence the 5some), spitting, hair pulling, mirror sex, exhibitionism, dacryphilia. voyeurism, possesiveness at its finest, choking, big dick!san, bulge kink, squirting, lots of cummm, unprotected, for sure forgot something (it's 4:40 am at the time I post this), completely consensual, will definitely edit later.

Author's Note: Oh my fucking god holy fuck this was a damn ride. It was INTENSE. I went damn overboard with some of the details upsi, I had to. Gave everyone at least some attention 🤗 no one was left out (poor reader fr). This is my first ot8 fic. I hope you enjoy this, love u anon and I'm so sorry I am 2 months late 💀💀💀 life was erratic. Oh and.. Merry Christmas, everyone! Fluff fic coming right after this menace. From one extreme to another I guess 💀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and doesn't represent the reality of the members in any way.

The soft hum of the city buzzed faintly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of San’s office. Late evening sunlight poured into the room, bathing everything in golden hues as you perched on the edge of his sleek, black desk. Your legs swung idly, the sound of your heels lightly tapping against the wooden surface filling the otherwise quiet room.

San sat behind his desk, engrossed in the papers spread before him. His sharp black suit hugged his frame perfectly, exuding authority as he worked in focused silence. You let your gaze drift over him, taking in the way his jaw tightened every so often when he read something he didn’t like. Even when he was deep in work, San had a presence that could dominate a room without him uttering a single word.

But today, you weren’t in the mood to let him bury himself in paperwork.

“San,” you called, dragging out his name in a playful lilt.

His dark eyes flicked up to meet yours, a flicker of amusement flashing in them before he resumed scanning the document in his hands. “Yes, darling?” he asked, his voice low and velvety, though there was a clear undertone of distraction.

You leaned forward, resting your palms on the cool surface of his desk, your tone turning teasing. “You’ve been working all day. Don’t you think you deserve a break?”

San’s lips curved into a small smirk as he set the papers down and leaned back in his chair, his arms folding across his chest. “Is that so? And what exactly do you suggest I do on this ‘break,’ hmm?”

You feigned a thoughtful expression, tapping your chin dramatically. “Well… I could think of a few things.”

Before he could respond, the door to his office suddenly swung open, breaking the charged atmosphere between you. The sound made you jump slightly, and you instinctively straightened up, your gaze snapping to the intruders.

The other seven members of the group filed in one by one, their casual but confident demeanor filling the room with a new kind of energy.

“Interrupting something?” Jongho’s voice was the first to break the silence, his eyebrow raised as his eyes darted between you and San.

San’s expression didn’t falter, though the slight twitch of his jaw gave away his irritation. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he replied coolly, leaning back further in his chair.

Wooyoung, ever the bold one, grinned as he sauntered over to the desk, his sharp gaze flicking over you with clear amusement. “Doesn’t look like ‘nothing,’ though,” he teased, leaning casually against the edge of the desk beside you.

“Wooyoung,” San said, his tone holding a warning, though his posture remained relaxed.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Wooyoung’s antics. “Do you ever know when to stop?” you asked, though your tone was more amused than annoyed.

“Not really,” Wooyoung admitted with a wink, his grin widening.

The rest of the members settled into the room, each finding a spot to sit or lean as the tension in the air shifted. You could feel their eyes on you, curiosity and mischief glinting in their gazes. It was impossible to ignore the magnetic energy they all carried; it was part of what made them so formidable as a group.

“Do we have business to discuss, or did you all just come to disrupt my evening?” San asked, his tone laced with dry humor as he gestured for them to get on with whatever they came for.

Hongjoong stepped forward, ever the leader, his expression calm but knowing. “We wrapped up the last deal earlier than expected, so we thought we’d drop by,” he said smoothly, though the subtle smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his intentions.

“And by ‘drop by,’ you mean make yourselves comfortable in my office?” San quipped, his gaze flicking between them.

Yeosang, who had been silent until now, let out a soft chuckle. “You can’t blame us, though. You’re the one who keeps all the interesting things hidden in here.”

His words carried a double meaning that wasn’t lost on anyone in the room. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you glanced at San, who still looked completely unbothered, though his hand had started to drum lightly against the desk.

Seonghwa, ever the smooth talker, decided to chime in. “You know, San,” he began, his tone light but calculated, “for someone who’s so protective, you seem awfully relaxed about leaving her alone with us.”

San’s smirk returned, his dark eyes locking onto Seonghwa’s. “Relaxed? Who said I was relaxed?” he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Then again,” Wooyoung piped up, his grin downright mischievous now, “maybe you’re not as possessive as we thought.”

The words hung in the air, the challenge in them clear. You glanced at San, curious to see how he would respond. To your surprise, he leaned back in his chair again, his expression calm but dangerous.

“Possessive?” he echoed, his tone laced with amusement. “Oh, I am. Make no mistake about that.”

His gaze shifted to you, his eyes softening slightly. “But I also trust her. And I trust all of you… to a degree.”

The unspoken invitation in his words made your breath catch. The room was silent for a moment, the weight of his statement sinking in before the playful tension returned.

“Well,” Hongjoong said, breaking the silence, “that’s quite the declaration.”

San’s smirk widened, his confidence unshakable. “It’s not a declaration. It’s a fact.”

The others exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from amusement to intrigue.

“Does that mean we can—” Wooyoung began, but San cut him off with a raised hand.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he said, though his tone was more teasing than serious. His eyes met yours again, and you could see the glint of amusement in them. “After all, it’s not entirely up to me, is it?”

The attention in the room shifted to you, and you suddenly felt the weight of their gazes. San’s question was clear—this was your choice as much as it was his.

Your mind raced, the charged atmosphere making it difficult to think clearly. But as you looked at San, his calm confidence grounding you, you realized that you trusted him completely.

“Well,” you began, your voice steady despite the nervous energy coursing through you, “I think… it could be interesting.”

Your words hung in the air for a moment before the room erupted in a mixture of laughter and teasing remarks. San’s smirk turned into a full grin as he reached out to take your hand, pulling you closer to him.

“Interesting, huh?” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You nodded, your heart racing as you met his gaze. “As long as you’re okay with it,” you added, your voice soft but sincere.

San’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded. “I’m more than okay with it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

The room buzzed with excitement as the others began to discuss the details, their playful banter filling the space. But your focus remained on San, his steady presence anchoring you as you stepped into uncharted territory together.

The tension in the room grew thicker as San gave the subtlest nod, his eyes never leaving yours. His hand cupped your cheek tenderly, grounding you amidst the teasing grins and playful energy that radiated from the others. The question in his gaze was quiet but clear: *Do you trust me?*

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible but laced with certainty.

San’s lips curled into a soft, almost mischievous smile. “Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Then let us take care of you.”

Yunho was the first to move, his large hands brushing over your shoulders as he leaned down to meet your gaze, his warmth both reassuring and electrifying. “You really are something special, you know that?” he said, his voice honeyed with praise. “We’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but only if you’re ready.” His thumbs rubbed gentle circles into your skin, his touch comforting yet deliberate.

Mingi crouched next to you, his height even now making him an imposing figure. His grin was boyish, yet his tone carried a teasing edge. “San really is lucky, isn’t he? But I think tonight, you’re luckier.” His fingers brushed against your hand, holding it loosely as if offering silent reassurance. “We’re going to treat you like the queen you are.”

Their words made heat rise to your cheeks, and you felt San’s hand slide from your cheek to your waist, steadying you. His presence was a calming anchor even as the others moved around you with measured anticipation. “Remember,” San murmured into your ear, his tone a mix of possessiveness and care, “you can stop this anytime. But if you trust me, just let go.”

Your heartbeat quickened, but you nodded, the warmth in his voice giving you courage.

Hongjoong’s voice cut through the moment, calm and composed but carrying an edge of excitement. “We’ll take it slow,” he said, his sharp gaze locking with yours. “Just follow our lead.”

Together, they began to guide you, their movements deliberate yet unhurried. San was the one to lift your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He murmured, his voice steady, “Let them see the side of you only I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.”

Your shirt was the first to go, the fabric slipping from your shoulders under Mingi’s deft touch. He let out a low whistle, his eyes twinkling with admiration but never crossing into disrespect. “You’re stunning,” he said, his voice reverent. Yunho, standing behind you now, pressed a hand to your lower back, his touch firm yet gentle.

Yeosang’s quiet presence was next to catch your attention. He knelt beside you, his fingers brushing over your wrist as if asking permission before helping with the next piece of clothing.

The air buzzed with anticipation, but no one rushed you. Each movement, each touch, was careful and deliberate, designed to put you at ease. San stayed close, his hand a constant presence on your waist or shoulder, his protective nature evident even now. “You’re doing so well,” he praised, his voice rich with affection.

Mingi’s teasing came back as he tilted his head, his eyes raking over you with playful admiration. “You’ve been hiding all this from us?” he joked, though his tone carried genuine awe. “Not fair.”

“She’s breathtaking,” Yunho agreed, his voice warm as his hand brushed against your arm. “San’s been keeping the best things to himself.”

San smirked, his possessiveness flickering through despite the shared moment. “Don’t forget,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, though his eyes softened as they met yours. “She’s still mine.”

Wooyoung laughed, breaking the tension with his lighthearted energy. “We know, we know,” he said, throwing his hands up dramatically. “We’re just borrowing her for tonight.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, the sound breaking through your initial nervousness.

As they continued to undress you piece by piece, the warmth of their attention made your skin tingle. Every movement was accompanied by a murmur of praise, a gentle touch, or a soft reassurance. They were in no rush, savoring every moment and ensuring you felt cherished and adored.

San knelt beside you as the last piece of fabric was removed, his hand cupping your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much love it made your heart ache. “And you’re safe.”

The others watched the intimate moment, their respect for San’s bond with you evident in their quiet stillness. When he finally pulled back, his smirk returned, his possessive streak shining through. “But don’t forget who you belong to,” he added, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip once more.

As you settled back against the desk, the warmth of their gazes enveloped you, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of heat flow through you.

San’s voice was the last thing you heard before they began. “Let us show you just how much you mean to us.”

The living room was bathed in warm golden light, the soft hum of conversation filling the air. As the group carried you from the office to the shared space, their laughter and teasing remarks created a sense of playful camaraderie. The room, spacious yet intimate, had an air of familiarity that contrasted with the charged tension lingering among them.

They gently set you down on the large sectional couch, its plush cushions yielding to your weight. Wooyoung leaned over from one side, his mischievous grin ever-present as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "Look at her," he mused, his voice a touch lower than usual, "so perfect and so pretty like this."

Mingi, who stood behind you, chuckled softly. "She’s even more stunning up close," he said, his large hands resting lightly on the back of the couch. His eyes glimmered with mischief, though there was a noticeable gentleness to his movements. From the corner of your eye, you could see Hongjoong to your right, already rolling up his sleeves, his sharp gaze focused entirely on you.

San remained standing near the edge of the room, his arms crossed but his expression unreadable. The corners of his lips twitched upward slightly as the three members began to close in. "Remember who’s in charge," he said smoothly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet murmurs. "You can admire her, but don’t forget that she’s mine."

Wooyoung smirked, exchanging a glance with Mingi and Hongjoong. "Of course, hyung. But you wouldn’t mind if we… made her feel special, right?" he teased, his voice playful yet testing boundaries.

San’s dark eyes flicked toward you, searching your expression. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly, his tone steady and grounding amidst the lighthearted chaos. His gaze held yours firmly, waiting for your answer.

You nodded without hesitation, your voice barely a whisper. "I trust you, San."

A satisfied hum left his lips. "Good." He gestured with a slight nod, granting the others permission to proceed. "Don’t forget—she’s precious. Treat her that way."

Wooyoung, ever the bold one, began by brushing his lips lightly along your temple, his fingers trailing down your arm in feather-light strokes. "Precious is an understatement," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver through you.

Mingi leaned in from behind, his hands settling on your shoulders. His touch was firm but reassuring, a contrast to Wooyoung’s teasing.

Hongjoong’s approach was quieter but no less impactful. He crouched beside you, his sharp eyes scanning your face for any signs of discomfort. His hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a silent gesture of reassurance.

As the three surrounded you, their touches and presence seemed to envelop you entirely. Wooyoung tilted your chin upward, his lips ghosting along your jawline before trailing to your collarbone. Mingi’s hands, broad and warm, began to massage your shoulders, easing any lingering tension. Meanwhile, Hongjoong traced idle patterns on the back of your hand, his quiet attention grounding you amidst the overwhelming sensations.

The other four—Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, and Jongho—watched from the nearby armchairs, their expressions varying from amusement to curiosity. Yunho leaned back casually, his long legs stretched out as he exchanged knowing smirks with Seonghwa. "They’re starting strong," Yunho remarked, his deep voice laced with humor.

"Can you blame them?" Seonghwa replied, his tone lighter than usual. His sharp features softened as his gaze flitted toward you, a hint of fondness in his otherwise composed demeanor. "She has that effect."

Yeosang tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "San’s holding back more than I expected," he mused, his words eliciting a chuckle from Jongho, who simply nodded in agreement.

San, still standing apart from the group, exuded a quiet authority. Despite the teasing commentary from the others, his eyes never left you. "Remember your place," he reminded the group lightly, though there was no malice in his tone. "She’s mine to love and protect."

"And tease," Wooyoung quipped, pulling back briefly to glance at San. "You said it yourself, hyung. She’s precious. We’re just appreciating her beauty."

San raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond immediately, his gaze drifting back to you. "Just don’t forget who she belongs to," he said finally, his voice calm but firm.

As if to emphasize his words, Wooyoung leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Even with all of us here, you’re still his, aren’t you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with playful reverence.

The room was growing warmer, the air thick with an electric charge that seemed to pulse between everyone present. The soft rustling of fabric caught your attention, and your eyes flicked over to the four members who had been watching from the sidelines. Slowly, one by one, they began to shed their shirts, their toned torsos coming into view. Each movement was deliberate, as though they wanted to savor every second of this shared moment.

Yunho, the tallest of the group, was the first to approach, his steps unhurried and confident. His broad shoulders and defined chest were illuminated by the soft light of the living room. His gaze flicked down to you, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "I think it’s our turn now," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver through you.

Seonghwa followed closely behind, his elegant movements almost hypnotic. His sharp features softened slightly as he looked down at you, a gentle fondness in his expression. "Don’t worry," he murmured, his voice smooth and calming. "We’ll take good care of you."

Behind them, Yeosang and Jongho exchanged a glance, a silent agreement passing between them. Yeosang, with his quiet intensity, began to unbuckle his belt, his fingers moving with a casual ease. Jongho, ever the composed one, ran a hand through his dark hair before stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours.

The three members who had been close to you—Wooyoung, Mingi, and Hongjoong—reluctantly backed off, their hands lingering on your skin for a moment longer before they stepped away. They moved to the side, their breathing still heavy as they watched the scene unfold. Each of them began to undress, their movements slower than necessary as if they wanted you to notice every detail.

Wooyoung leaned casually against the armrest of the couch, his bare torso gleaming under the soft light. "We’ll let them have their fun," he said, his voice teasing. "But don’t forget—we’re next."

Mingi crossed his arms over his chest, his sharp jawline set as he watched intently. "Take your time," he added, though the hunger in his gaze betrayed his impatience.

San remained standing apart from the group, his suit still perfectly in place. The contrast between his composed exterior and the evident strain in his pants was almost too much to bear. His dark eyes drank in every detail of the scene, from the way you sat on the couch, your hands trembling slightly, to the way the members circled you like predators waiting for their moment to strike.

You glanced up at San. His lips curved into a small, approving smile. "Enjoy yourself," he said softly, his voice steady despite the clear tension in his posture. "But remember who you belong to."

The four of them seemed to come to a silent agreement, their eyes flicking between each other as they decided how to proceed. Finally, Yunho spoke up, his deep voice cutting through the quiet tension. "Let’s start simple," he suggested, his gaze dropping to your hands.

"Two and two," Jongho added, his voice steady. His dark eyes softened slightly as he looked at you. "If that’s okay with you."

You nodded, your heart racing as they took their places. Yunho and Yeosang each took each of your hands, their fingers brushing against yours as they guided your movements. Their touches were firm but gentle, their eyes never leaving yours as they made sure you were comfortable. They took off their pants completely, followed by their briefs. Their cocks sprung out and your hands instinctively went for their lengths. You looked up at them, then down at the position you were in. Legs slightly spread out, your cunt dripping with arousal on the blanket that was on the couch, the two men in front of you and their cocks in your hands. You took a deep breath and started to move your hands, stroking their lengths slowly, at first. Yunho's cock was already dripping with pre cum, making the perfect lube for his hand. For Yeosang, you spit in your hand and started lubing it up. He quietly groaned at the sensation, satisfied with your way of lubing him.

“Yes… that's it, sweetheart..” Yunho whispered, his head slowly falling back as your hand started to move more rapidly, your thumb rubbing over the tip, putting pressure on it.

Yeosang was already out of it, his breath heavy as he was hardly holding back from pushing your hand further on his cock. He waited and waited until he couldn't anymore.

“Fuck it..” his hand hand hovered over your head, hesitating for a moment. He looked at you and tried to back up, but Yunho interrupted his move.

“That's such.. a great idea, Yeosang..” he said, his eyes gazing over you. “But only if y/n and San are good with it, of course…” he said and all 3 of you looked at San. He suddenly had his pants unbuckled, his hard cock straining against his briefs. He nodded, his hand now lazily rubbing it through the cloth. He was turned the fuck on with this situation, the fact that he was observing you so patiently, waiting for his men to have their fun with you and use you as they pleased, as their fuck toy.

“Boss is okay with it.. but are you, y/n?” Yeosang said, his hand hovering softly over your cheek, making you look up at him.

“Y-yes..” you whispered and he didn't hesitate any further, his hand guiding your mouth to his cock. You instinctively started sucking on the dripping tip, kissing and licking circles all around, from the tip to the base of his cock then all along his shaft. As you sucked him off up and down slurping and putting pressure with your tongue and lips on the tip, his hand slowly started pushing your head on his cock. He let you get used to his size, your lips stretching slightly as he pushed further.

“Ah fuck, Yunho.. her mouth feels so good.. you gotta-you gotta try this” Yeosang said breathless, catching the other men's attention. Yunho smirked and waited for his turn.

Aa you bobbed your head up and down on Yeosang’s cock and stroked your hand on Yunho's on your left, you started to focus on making Yeosang cum first so you could suck Yunho off, too. Within a few more licks of your tongue and hard sucking on the tip he came down your throat, making you slightly choke on his huge load. Yunho chuckled, satisfied at the view of you choking and couldn't content his excitement at being sucked off by you, that he slowly moved Yeosang from your face - who was panting still - and harshly tilted your chin up so that you could take his cock in your mouth.

“Can I join in, too?” Jongho said, his cock already heavy and dripping in his hand.

You nodded briefly while sucking on Yunho's cock and he joined in… but he didn't joke when he said he'd *join in*. He made his way right in front of you and switched places with Yunho for a moment until he was satisfied, then after you sucked him off for a moment he exchanged glances with Yunho and they came to a silent agreement. Yunho, *slowly* made the tip of his cock fit at the same time with Jongho's and you started to suck both simultaneously.

Yunho’s hand tangled in your hair, barely resisting from mouth fucking you. He softly pulled you towards his pelvis, both cocks filling up your mouth good. Jongho whined at the sensation, his head lolling back in pleasure.

“Yeah.. that’s it, darling..” Jongho said, his ragged breath giving away the fact that he was damn close. Yunho was too, his hand pulling your hair softly backwards only to thrust powerfully in your mouth. Each of them fucked your mouth prettily until they came down your throat, filling your mouth with their cum. Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes, the feeling of being stretched by their cocks only amplifying the pleasure and arousal growing in your belly.. and between your legs.

You had just finished with Jongho and Yunho, your hands still trembling slightly as they stepped back, their satisfied expressions lingering as they caught their breath. The room was filled with a heavy scent. As they backed away, the other four men—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung—moved forward, their eyes locked on you, filled with a mix of hunger and anticipation. The air grew heavier, the tension palpable as they closed in on you, ready to claim their turn.

But before they could make their move, a voice that brooked no argument cut through the silence.

San stepped in front of you, his presence commanding, and with one smooth motion, he cupped your face in his hands, his touch tender yet possessive. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, but his words were sharp, like a warning.

"The next man to make a move without her permission will regret it," San's voice was calm but held an undeniable authority. He leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours as he asked, "Tell me, who do you want?"

You felt your heart race, the pressure mounting as the room fell deathly quiet. The other men—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Wooyoung—shifted uncomfortably behind San, their whispers of complaint barely audible. "This is taking too long," Hongjoong muttered softly. He's gonna make us wait?" Seonghwa sighed in frustration, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't fair." Even Mingi and Wooyoung exchanged glances, their impatience palpable, but they dared not protest further. They knew better than to challenge San’s authority.

A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you stared at San, unsure of what to say. The choice was overwhelming, and the silence seemed to stretch on forever. You opened your mouth, but the words caught in your throat. "I... I..." Your voice wavered, and your hands shook as you glanced at each man in turn.

Finally, with a stutter, you managed to say, "M-Mingi."

San’s lips curled into a small, approving smile. "Good choice," he murmured, backing away just enough to allow Mingi to step forward. His praise made your chest tighten in both relief and anticipation.

Then San turned to the others, his gaze cold and decisive. "Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Wooyoung," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Back off. Stay with Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang until she's done. She'll decide what to do next."

Reluctantly, the remaining three men complied, their disappointment clear, but they knew better than to defy San’s orders.

The room quieted once more as Mingi stepped closer, and the weight of your decision settled in. He positioned himself to your mouth and let you take the lead for a moment.

Mingi stepped forward, his eyes dark with desire as he knelt before you, his towering frame somehow softening with a nervous yet eager energy. His hand trembled slightly as he guided his cock to your mouth, the warmth of your breath against him drawing a shuddering moan from his lips. He wasn’t shy about making sounds; each gasp and whimper escaping him felt raw, his pleasure uninhibited. “God… you’re so good,” he murmured breathlessly, his voice catching as you dragged your tongue along his length in a slow, deliberate motion. The way you swirled your tongue and teased him at the tip had him bucking his hips slightly, his hands gripping your shoulders for balance as his knees threatened to give out. Every lick, every motion from your mouth sent Mingi spiraling closer to the edge, his moans turning into desperate whines that filled the room. Every sound that escaped his throat gave you energy to suck him more, deeper, faster, sloppier, even if his huge, girthy cock was making you choke on it with every deeper thrust. “Y-you’re… gonna make me—” he stammered, and before he could finish his sentence, his climax overtook him. His body tensed as he came, the sound of his loud, unrestrained moan echoing through the room.

Panting heavily, Mingi stepped back, his legs shaky as he tried to steady himself. You wiped your lips, your own breath coming in short, heavy pants as the intensity of the moment settled between you. For a brief moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the shared experience thick in the air.

Mingi finally broke the silence, offering you a sheepish smile. “That was… incredible,” he admitted, his voice still husky. “But what do we do now?”

Before you could answer, San’s familiar voice cut in, smooth and commanding as ever. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, stepping forward with his trademark confidence. His gaze flicked between you and Mingi before landing on you, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“How about this,” San began, his tone low and almost teasing. “You take Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Yeosang next. All at once. Then, when they’re done…” He glanced over at Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho, his smirk widening. “You’ll handle them. Together.”

His words sent a ripple through the room, the other men exchanging glances, their expressions a mixture of excitement and anticipation. San’s smirk deepened as his gaze returned to you, his voice dropping even lower.

“And when that’s over,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes locking onto yours, “it’ll finally be my turn.”

San’s tone held a sense of finality, his dominance undeniable as he stood tall before you. “The best things,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “are always saved for last.”

The tension in the room was palpable, every man’s gaze now fixed on you, waiting to see how you’d respond. San’s command lingered in the air, his natural authority unmistakable as you tried to steady your racing heart and prepare for what lay ahead.

Your lips trembled, the weight of anticipation heavy as you stood surrounded by three of them—Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Hongjoong—each waiting, their eyes fixed on you. Finally, you stammered, “Y-yes,” the word escaping in a breathy whisper.

San’s gaze softened, pride shining in his dark eyes as he stepped closer to you. Gently, he cupped your face, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek. “That’s my good girl…” he murmured, “or should I say… good slut?” his voice low and rich.. His lips quirked into a smirk as his gaze flicked briefly to the men nearby. The sudden word he said made your eyes widen, surprised he hasn’t used those type of words yet.. as he always uses them when there is just the two of you.

“If you want the chance to be with me tonight,” he continued, his voice smooth and commanding, “you’ll be a good girl for them first. Take care of them. Do you understand?”

You nodded, your breath catching under the weight of his intense stare. “Good,” he said, stepping back and motioning toward Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Hongjoong. “Go on, show them what my good, little slut is capable of.”

San moved aside and as soon as Seonghwa approached you first, his movements slow and confident, San stopped and turned around. “Ah… I almost forgot. Listen carefully," he growled, his voice low and laced with a deadly calm that sent a chill through the air. "She’s mine. The only one who has the right to speak to her like that is me—and even then, it’s only because she allows it. If I catch so much as a whisper of disrespect from any of you, there won’t be warnings, there won’t be second chances. I will make you disappear, and you all know pretty damn well how I take care of people that cross my words.”

“Got it, boss!” all of them said in unison, clearly spooked by his words, but with a good reason.

Seonghwa stepped in front of you. His strong arms slid around you, pulling you firmly against him with your back pressing to his chest. “You’re stunning,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. Yeosang stepped in next, his hand grazing along your thigh before resting on your hip. His fingers trailed up, featherlight, before settling in place. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your temple.

Hongjoong followed, stepping to your side with a teasing smirk. His fingers traced the line of your jaw, tilting your head gently toward him. “You’re safe with us,” he murmured, his voice low and steady before capturing your lips in a kiss that was as consuming as it was gentle.

Their touches surrounded you, each of them focused on you as the last layers of fabric were shed from their bodies, leaving only warmth and closeness between you. The atmosphere was charged, the air electric as anticipation built around you.

Seonghwa adjusted his hold, his arms sliding beneath your knees to lift your legs effortlessly, pressing them against your chest in a mating press. His chest was firm against your back, his grip steady and sure as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on the side of your neck. The new closeness made your breath hitch, heat flooding your senses as you leaned back into him.

Yeosang and Hongjoong steadied you on either side, their hands gliding along your thighs and hips, their touches reverent yet deliberate. Yeosang’s lips brushed against your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin, while Hongjoong whispered your name softly, his voice sending sparks through you.

As Seonghwa positioned himself right under you and began to move, his breath caught, a low groan escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His cock thrusted deep in your ass, his movements deliberate and controlled, each shift of his body sending a wave of warmth coursing through you. Hongjoong soon joined, his body aligning with yours as he ligned his cock to your folds, rubbing it up and down for a couple of times before sliding right in, his quiet gasps mixing with Seonghwa’s.

Yeosang’s steadying hands roamed your sides, offering a grounding presence amid the growing intensity. His kisses traced a path along your shoulder, and his voice was a soothing counterpoint to the fervent rhythm the others set.

The synchronized motion between Seonghwa and Hongjoong was overwhelming, each of their movements filled with purpose, their breaths shallow and mingling with your own. Seonghwa’s grip on you never faltered, his strength keeping you secure as he murmured against your ear, “You’re perfect..”

Their closeness was intoxicating, and the connection shared between the four of you was more than physical—it was a deeply intimate expression of trust, affection, and unspoken understanding. Each kiss, each whisper of praise, and every deliberate movement spoke volumes, leaving you surrounded by warmth and devotion.

Yeosang shifted with purpose, his hands smoothing over your sides with deliberate care before he moved to position himself beneath you. His movements were careful yet assertive, his hands guiding your hips as he thrusted himself in your cunt, his body perfectly aligned to support you. His chest rising briefly as he murmured, “Let me take care of you, too,” his voice low but filled with steady confidence. The feeling of being filled by both Yeosang’s and Hongjoong’s cocks was damn overwhelming and pleasurable, tears falling down your cheeks as you were held up by the 3 boys. But.. one was missing.

The room pulsed with heat, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensations of Yeosang’s deliberate rhythm beneath you and Hongjoong’s teasing precision. Every sound, every touch, had you teetering on the edge, your breaths hitching as you tried to keep up with the intensity.

“Forgot about me for a second, huh?” Wooyoung’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and playful, though the hunger in his eyes betrayed just how impatient he had been. He stood near you and the boys, watching you.

Your eyes flicked to him, and the moment they met his, he was already moving. Whatever remained of his clothes was gone in an instant, hitting the floor without hesitation. “You look so good like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as, his hands ghosting over your trembling thighs.

Yeosang let out a low chuckle, his grip on your waist tightening as he adjusted his angle. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Wooyoung replied, his hands sliding up to your hips, brushing against Yeosang’s as he steadied you. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck.

Hongjoong smirked, his fingers caressing your thigh as he watched Wooyoung with quiet amusement. “Don’t overwhelm her right away. She still needs to be in shape for whatever boss wants to do with her later.”

But Wooyoung was unrelenting, his lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder, his kisses growing more insistent. He looked at Seonghwa as he guided his cock into you. The stretch was overwhelming, the new sensation pulling a sharp gasp from your lips as your body adjusted to the addition… in your ass, right where Seonghwa had been fucking you for a while. Wooyoung let out a low groan, his forehead pressing briefly against your shoulder as he steadied himself. “You feel… unreal,” he whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Seonghwa, who had been quietly observing, started to thrust in sync with Wooyoung, filling you up. “Relax,” he murmured, his voice soft and commanding as his lips brushed your ear.

Wooyoung’s movements were slow at first, his hands steadying you as he found his rhythm.

The room was thick with heat, your body trembling as Yeosang and Hongjoong moved in sync, their rhythm pushing you closer to the edge. Their hands gripped you firmly, Yeosang’s nails digging into your waist while Hongjoong’s fingers tightened on your thighs. The pressure inside you was almost unbearable, but it only heightened the pleasure coursing through your body.

“Just like that,” Hongjoong groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, his release spilling into you in hot waves. A cry ripped from your lips as Yeosang followed, his grip steadying you as he filled you to the brim, the sensation overwhelming.

Behind you, Wooyoung let out a low growl, his chest pressed against your back as Seonghwa whispered praises into your ear. Their movements were relentless, each thrust drawing out another moan from your trembling body.

“You’re perfect,” Seonghwa murmured, his voice strained as he sank deep inside you, his warmth joining Wooyoung’s as their releases filled you in unison. The sensation of both of them spilling into you left you breathless, your body tightening as your climax crashed over you in a wave of blinding pleasure.

A broken sob escaped your lips as you felt everything—every stretch, every pulse of warmth as they stayed inside you, their hands soothing you as you shuddered in their arms.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as tears slipped down your cheeks, your body utterly spent yet tingling from the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.

Their warmth surrounded you, grounding you as you came down from the high, your body still trembling but utterly sated.

The weight of San’s gaze lingered on you, dark and full of unspoken hunger. He stepped closer, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. “So needy,” he murmured, his voice low and full of heat. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his piercing stare. “One more round, sweetie. That’s it. Then you’re all mine.” His thumb brushed over your trembling lips as his tone dropped further. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you after watching this, you little slut.”

Before you could respond, San stepped back, and Mingi’s hands slid to your waist. He pulled you closer, his large palms steady and grounding as his lips found your neck. The soft press of his mouth left a warm trail, and the quiet groan he let out sent a shiver through you.

Behind you, Jongho’s touch was firmer, his hands gripping your hips as his breath fanned against your shoulder. He didn’t speak, but the heat of his presence and the deliberate press of his lips to your skin left you breathless.

“Just like that,” Yunho murmured, his deep voice a soothing contrast to the desperate need in his eyes. His fingers grazed along your jawline, tilting your face toward him.

You gasped softly, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches and the way they surrounded you. San’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding yet dripping with a dark fondness. “Good girl,” he said, his tone rough as he leaned in to press a fleeting kiss to your temple. “Now let them have their moment, because after this…” His words trailed off, his smirk growing wider. “You’re mine.”

As the 3 boys started fucking you relentlessly, breaths mingling together and whines escaping your chest, they stopped suddenly. You didn't realise why until your sweet boyfriend stood right in front of you. San’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding. “Stop.” The single word carried enough weight to make Mingi and Jongho halt mid-thrust, their movements freezing as their eyes turned to him. Yunho’s grip on your waist loosened slightly, though he stayed close, his breath still hot against your neck.

“You don’t get to finish yet,” San growled, stepping closer, his intense gaze boring into yours. His tone softened just slightly, but it was no less firm as he tilted your chin upward to meet his piercing eyes. “Not before them, and certainly not before me.”

You gasped softly, your breath hitching as his fingers traced your jawline, his possessive smirk returning. “You think I’m letting you come so easily?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a husky murmur. “No, darling. You’re gonna wait until I’m the one who pushes you over. I want you crying out my name, trembling and completely undone because of me. I want you so damn overstimulated you can’t even think of anyone else.”

San turned his sharp gaze to the others, his tone cool and deliberate. “You heard me. Keep her waiting.”

Mingi’s hands tightened on your hips, his grip grounding as his pace resumed, slow but deliberate. The low groans rumbling from his chest mingled with Yunho’s deep, steady breaths behind you. Jongho pressed closer, his lips brushing along your shoulder, his quiet growls sending shivers down your spine.

Their rhythm built together, their bodies perfectly in sync as your moans and cries filled the room. Mingi leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

Yunho’s hands slid up your sides, steady and warm as his lips found the nape of your neck. The way his whines wrapped around you, combined with the desperate, broken groans from Jongho, sent waves of heat coursing through you.

Your cries grew louder as their movements became more erratic, each of them chasing their orgams with a fevered intensity. Mingi’s deep groan echoed through the room as he held you tighter, his body trembling against yours as he finally came. Jongho followed moments later, his grip on your hips firm as his own breathing hitched. Yunho’s orgasm was quieter but no less intense, his face buried in your neck as his chest heaved against your back.

You trembled in their arms, overwhelmed and breathless, when a familiar voice pierced through the haze.

San stepped forward, his movements purposeful, his shirt now entirely gone. “That’s enough,” he said, his voice low and commanding, drawing all attention to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, thoroughly undone and trembling from the intensity. “I told you she wasn’t finished yet.”

He scooped you into his arms effortlessly, his strength both steadying and overwhelming.

He stopped in front of the tall, ornate mirror that stood near the dining table, his reflection capturing his sharp gaze as he set you down gently on the edge of the table. “Look at yourself,” he commanded, his tone rough but laced with a dark sort of tenderness.

You blinked up at him, dazed, your reflection showing your flushed cheeks and trembling frame. San smirked, his hand tilting your chin so you wouldn’t look away. “You see that? That’s what I do to you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with possessive pride.

Before you could respond, he gently pushed you forward, your palms meeting the cool surface of the table as he pressed your body into it. His hand slid down your back, firm but reverent, as his other hand came to rest on your shoulder. “Keep watching,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “I want you to see exactly how I make you mine.”

The intensity of his words, the way he held you so effortlessly yet with complete control, sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. San’s reflection in the mirror was just as commanding as his presence behind you, his gaze locked onto yours as he slowly began to thrust into your dripping cunt.

Mingi, still catching his breath from nearby, let out a low chuckle. “San, you really don’t hold back, do you?”

San glanced over his shoulder briefly, his smirk growing darker. “Of course not. She doesn’t deserve anything less.” His attention returned to you, his voice dropping as he added, “And she wouldn’t want it any other way, would you, sweetheart?”

The only response you could manage was a breathless whimper, your reflection showing every ounce of the anticipation coursing through your body as San’s grip tightened, grounding you once more in his complete control.

San’s gaze darkened as his hand choked your face and neck down on the table, his strength grounding you even as your legs trembled under the weight of his presence. “Watch me,” he commanded, his voice low and rough, a blend of control and desire. His eyes flicked toward the others as he smirked. “Watch how my little slut lets me take everything from her, how much she trusts me to push her to her limits.”

His fingers trailed deliberately down your back, firm but reverent, sending a shiver coursing through you. The cool surface of the table pressed against your skin, contrasting with the heat radiating from his body as he leaned over you. “You’re mine,” he whispered into your ear, his tone soft yet charged with unrelenting intensity. “And you’ll show them exactly how good you are for me.”

The table creaked under the pressure as San started pounding into you, a silent promise of what was to come. His hand slid to your shoulder, steadying you, his thumb brushing soothing circles into your skin as his other hand started to slowly tangle in your messed up hair.

Your breath caught as he bent down, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Don’t you dare look away,” he murmured, his voice sending a rush of anticipation through you. “I want you to see everything. Every moment. Every second of what I do to you.”

Your reflection in the mirror revealed the truth—the flushed heat of your cheeks, the dazed look in your eyes as you nodded, overwhelmed by his intensity. San’s smirk deepened, his possessiveness evident in every movement as he fucked you, ensuring you felt every ounce of his unwavering focus.

The tension in the room was palpable, each sound amplified as the others watched, their breaths mingling with yours. San’s hold on you remained steady, his thrusts getting sloppier, deeper, more purposeful.

“S-San..!” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he hit your cervix, the roughness of it all sending you over the edge. His hand hovered underneath you, feeling up your belly. As he bottomed down as deep as he was able, stretching you the fuck out, he could feel his cock softly bulging in your lower belly. He let out a satisfied sigh, smiling in the mirror as he saw your eyes teary.

“Yes.. that's it, slut. Scream my damn name.” San said as his pace grew faster and deeper, table creaking under his force. “I thought you'd be all loosened up from the boys fucking you at the same time but damn… their cocks ain't competing with mine. Is that right, darling?” he smirked, looking in your eyes in the mirror as he heard the boys complain in the background.

“Y'all better shut your mouths if you don't want me to give you a reason to complain.” he said between thrusts and they nodded, defeat visible in their eyes.

“Tell me, slut. You're close, is that right?” The way your breath hitches… and the way you desperately arch your back against the hardwood.. “

“San..S-San.. please. P-please.. -ah!” you moaned out as he jerked your head upwards by your hair. His thrusts grew erratic, your head dizzy from his power. He pounded in you a few times before filling you up with his huge load of cum, your walls clenching around his huge cock. Right after him you cry out in pleasure as your orgasm washes over you, tears streaming down your cheeks and on the table. You squirted all over the table under you as he slowed down and then pulled out, lifting you up in his embrace and watched you come undone.

“Damn.. I didn't know Boss is this fucking rough with her.” Yunho said, surprised at the power he fucked you with.

“Yeah but.. the princess seems to enjoy it, too.” Yeosang added, the other boys nodding in agreement.

“Everyone had their way, right? Now, all, get out and get washed. Y'all know we have a busy schedule tomorrow. I'll take care of my girl.” San ordered and watched the boys leave his home before bringing you to the shower, talking you through it.

He asked you all sorts of questions. How was it, if you liked it… how did it feel. If you were scared for even a moment or if you doubted him. All these questions made you grow fonder of him, but you were too spent to answer everything in detail. He washed you and himself up and went to bed with you, cuddling and stroking your hair until you fell asleep.

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz

[vanteguccir]

Them realizing your innocent / virgin

(Love your writing sm💕)

UGH THIS CONCEPT MAKES ME SO WET 😭😭😭

I firmly believe that knowing that you're still a virgin and that they'll be your first would make Matt and Chris feel so fucking aroused, they would go completely crazy, wanting to "mark" you as their own as soon as they discover it. I can see them losing their control, feeling like they could cum like teenage boys only with the thought of stretching you open for the very first time 😩

chris:

As the warm, muted glow of the bedside lamp bathed the room in soft light, Y/N and Chris found themselves entwined in each other’s arms. The atmosphere was charged with an electric tension, the kind that had been building up over weeks of tender, stolen kisses, and longing gazes. Tonight, that tension seemed to snap as their lips met in a searing kiss, all restraint forgotten.

Chris’s hands roamed Y/N’s back, pulling her closer, pressing her against him as if trying to merge their bodies into one. She could feel his heart hammering against her chest, matching the wild rhythm of her own. His mouth moved with a fervor that sent sparks down her spine, igniting a fire in her core. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, as if afraid he might slip away.

His hands slid under her - his - shirt, fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her lower back, inching upward with a deliberate slowness that made her gasp against his mouth. He was on fire, each touch leaving a trail of molten heat in its wake. Her shirt rode up, exposing her midriff to the cool air, a stark contrast to the blazing heat of their bodies.

Chris’s kisses became more insistent, more desperate. He pushed the shirt higher, and Y/N’s breath hitched. She felt a flush of shyness, a stark contrast to the inferno raging inside her. His lips left her mouth, trailing down her jawline to the sensitive spot just below her ear, drawing a soft moan from her.

He started to lift her shirt higher, fingers brushing against the soft swell of her breast. But suddenly, Y/N’s hands flew to his, stopping him in his tracks. Chris pulled back slightly, his eyes dark and glazed with desire, a question forming on his lips even as he continued to pepper kisses along her neck and collarbone.

"Babe." He murmured between kisses, voice husky with need. "What’s wrong, huh?"

She took a shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly as she held his, closing her eyes briefly while feeling his lips hugging her skin so perfectly.

"Chris, I… I’ve never… done this before." Her voice was barely above a whisper, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation coloring her words.

Chris froze for a moment, his mind processing her confession. Then, a slow, wicked smile spread across his face, and his eyes darkened even more.

"You’re a virgin?" He asked, his voice laced with both surprise and something else, something primal.

Y/N nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

"I’ve never been with anyone like this. I’m just… I've never felt ready for it before."

Chris’s breath hitched, and he pressed his forehead against hers, his own excitement surging to new heights.

"God, Y/N." He breathed, his voice thick with arousal, his warm breath caressing her skin. "Fuck, you have no idea how much that turns me on."

He captured her lips again, this time with a renewed intensity, his hands moving to cup her face tenderly.

"You’re so perfect." He murmured against her lips, his words a mix of praise and possessiveness. "So innocent, and all mine to destroy, yeah?"

Y/N whimpered at his words, the combination of his soft caresses and his dirty talk sending waves of pleasure through her. He continued to kiss her, his hands exploring her body with reverence, as if worshiping her.

"I’m going to take such good care of you." He promised, his voice both soothing and sinful. "I’ll make it so good for you, I swear."

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness.

"Tell me if you want me to stop." He said, his tone serious despite the raging desire in his eyes. "I want this to be perfect for you."

Y/N nodded, her heart swelling with affection and arousal.

"I don’t want you to stop." She whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I just… I need you to go slow. For now."

Chris’s eyes softened, and he kissed her gently, his lips brushing against hers in a promise.

"I’ll go as slow as you need." He assured her. "We have all the time in the world."

matt:

Y/N nestled against Matt, the soft glow from the TV screen casting a warm light over their entwined bodies. The movie played on, but their attention was far from the plot. Matt's arm was wrapped around her, his fingers lazily drawing circles on her arm. She sighed contentedly, feeling the comfort and safety of his embrace.

Without warning, Matt's hand moved to gently tilt her chin towards him. His eyes, filled with an intensity she hadn't seen before, locked onto hers.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was different from any they had shared before; deeper, more passionate. Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as she returned the kiss, her hands moving to grasp his shirt.

The kiss grew hungrier, Matt's lips exploring hers with a fervor that made her head spin, their hot tongues intertwining in a wet dance. She could feel the heat rising between them, an electric current of desire that made her heart race. Matt's hand moved from her chin to cradle the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss even further.

Y/N's breath hitched as she felt Matt's other hand begin to wander, tracing a path down her side, over her waist, and settling on her hip. Her body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping her lips. She arched into him, feeling her arousal building with each touch, each kiss.

Matt's hand continued its journey, moving slowly, almost teasingly, down her thigh. He paused, his fingers hovering just above the hem of her small cotton shorts, and she could feel the heat of his touch seeping through the fabric. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling inside her.

When Matt's hand slipped under her shorts, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, going up to meet her panties, Y/N tensed. The sensation was both exhilarating and terrifying. She had never gone this far with anyone before, and the realization made her stomach twist with anxiety.

Matt immediately sensed her tension, pulling back from the kiss to look at her with concern, his working hand stopping abruptly.

"Hey." He whispered, his voice gentle. "What's wrong?"

Y/N bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I... I just..." She struggled to find the words, her nervousness making it hard to speak.

Matt brought his hands up, meeting them with her face, cupped her cheeks in his palms, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks.

"You can tell me anything, you know that, baby." He said softly.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N met his gaze.

"I've never... I've never been with anyone like this before." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a virgin, Matt."

Matt's eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she feared he might pull away. But instead, his expression softened, a mixture of tenderness and something darker crossing his features.

"You're so fucking perfect." He murmured, as if talking to himself, his voice thick with desire. "So pure."

The intensity in his eyes made her shiver, her body responding to his words in ways she hadn't expected.

"Matt..." She whispered, her voice trembling.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"I've wanted to feel you for so long, petal." He said, his voice low and husky. "But I need you to be sure. I need you to trust me."

Y/N nodded, her breath hitching as she felt his hands move again, this time with more purpose.

"I trust you." She said, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. "With my life."

Matt's lips curved into a wicked smile, and he began to place soft, lingering kisses along her jawline, down her neck. His hands explored her body with a newfound confidence, each touch sending waves of pleasure through her.

"You're mine, sweetheart." He whispered against her skin, his voice a seductive growl. "And I'm going to make you feel so good."

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 1: Ear Cleaning

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst.

Word Count: 1936 words.

A/N: From popular demand, I'll post the fic here too. Enjoy! :3

Next →

Sukuna walked through the corridors illuminated by the dark sun that ruled among the kingdoms. His long, heavy footsteps made the marble floor rumble under his weight. His sharp profile, tattooed shoulders and large body, contrasted by the reddish sky of the cursed land, terrifying any small human who encountered him. He was a king who could control anything thanks to the terror that his large body and absolute power conveyed. He had the power on his hands to kill whatever and whenever he wanted like an omnipotent god, but he liked to watch his rats run from one side to the other to obey his mercy. It amused him to play with his servants to the point of making them cry, tremble or, in extreme cases, commit suicide. He had plenty of servants, so he could afford to kill as many as he wanted. The poor uniformed humans trembled if his dark eyes rested on them. They all tried to dodge him at all costs to avoid performing tasks that involved being near him, especially cleaning his ears. 

Being a monster with senses sharpened to the max, he hated having his ears touched, but it was necessary for him to clean them to have his five senses ready for any battle. He is not someone ticklish, but his ears are the most sensitive part of his entire body. He could clean his own ears himself, but what kind of almighty, omnipotent king would clean his own ears when others could do it?

His eyes navigated through the long and endless corridors of the terrifying castle where he lived with all his subjects. The king's home was a place where darkness, cold, and uncertainty dominated the atmosphere. Even though it was surrounded by luxuries, it felt more like a secret attic than a castle fit for a king. Silver chandeliers, red candles parading on the walls and furniture upholstered with exotic fabrics from around the world decorated each room that was commonly surrounded by portraits made by hundreds of artists who feared for their lives. 

His predatory eyes sought out the first poor servant that crossed his path. He heard the bristles of a broom being scrubbed against the floor. Sukuna spotted a small figure sweeping one of the guest rooms. There you were, humming a song softly from your childhood as you made the broom dance from side to side. You were so focused on your task that you didn't notice the king standing dangerously close to you. As you turned around, you suddenly bumped into his imposing body, giving you a mini heart attack. Dressed in elegant robes, gold rings on each finger and with a wicked grin on his face, he was looking at you as if you were a despicable creature he could get rid of in the blink of an eye. 

You are the youngest and most inexperienced servant in the entire castle. You had not been living there for more than two months, so your direct interactions with the king had been few. Sukuna saw you from head to toe. He remembered you perfectly from the day he met you. Your neatly combed pigtails with two white bows showed off your innocence, the corset accentuated your small waist and the long brown skirt covered your promising legs. He accepted it, you were cute. Other than that, you were a disgusting human like everyone else, but there was something about you that caught his attention. Sukuna didn't know exactly what it was that you had. For the time being, he would continue to treat you as you deserved for being a nasty rat. Immediately, you knelt before your majesty. Your head rested in your hands against the freshly swept floor, your fingers barely touching his feet because of the closeness. 

“Are you having fun?” Sukuna asked, sarcastic. 

“No, my king,” you answered quickly, avoiding making eye contact. 

Sukuna placed one of his bare feet on your back. The oppressive weight crushed you against the cold floor. You prayed inwardly that your bones wouldn't start to creak. You bit your lower lip and closed your eyes tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. Having satisfied his need to make the new maid see who her master is, he removed his foot from your agonized back. You took a deep breath to fill your lungs with air again. 

“To my room. Now,” he ordered without deigning to look at you before leaving the room. You remained on the floor, slowly catching your breath. A metal taste touched your tongue. You bit your lower lip so hard that it was bleeding. 

This was the first time he ordered something directly from you. Usually you followed Uraume's general instructions like everyone else. You sat up slowly to regain what little balance you had left. You followed him to his room as he had ordered. Your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how nervous you were. As your small steps echoed like a pleasant trickle in the gloom, the servants came out of their hiding spots to quickly sign you in. They wished you the best of luck and that you would make it out of his room alive. That only put more pressure on you. 

You entered your majesty's luxurious room. Your eyes were fascinated to see so many extravagances in one place. Crystal chandeliers, rugs made of exotic animals and gold decorative pieces. All the furniture was precisely designed to suit his majesty's tastes and everything was neatly arranged. Unlike the rest of the castle, his room was a museum full of expensive artworks that the average person could not even imagine existed. 

The great fearsome monster was reclining on a red satin-covered divan. His eyes were closed, his four arms crossed over his broad chest and his legs barely touched the floor due to his impressive height. You approached him carefully so as not to ruin his peace. Next to the divan was a wooden cabinet with all the necessary tools to groom him thoroughly.

“Clean my ears,” he ordered in a gruff voice, cocking his head over the rest for you to begin immediately. “You better do a good job,” he threatened you. You swallowed dryly because it would be the first time you would touch his majesty and if you did it wrong, the last.

You took out the necessary instruments to carry out the task. You knelt in front of his head. As expected, the king smelled exquisite. It was strong, woody, and addictive. His pink hair was soft to the touch, but you tried to avoid touching it so as not to muss it. You dedicated yourself to cleaning the outside of his ear with a swab, concentrating on the helix and the back of the ear. Your hands were delicate around his sensitive ears and the friction did not bother him because it was minimal and warm. Sukuna's body began to relax as time passed. If he didn’t focus, he could fall asleep. 

Sukuna felt a shiver run down his back as you stuck a small wooden spatula into his ear to remove the excess earwax that prevented him from hearing well. You carefully dug so as not to hurt him. You could feel his discomfort in the way he squeezed his eyelids with each movement you made.

“Let me know if I get too deep, my king,” you said with a shaky voice. 

“Just do your damn job,” he answered grudgingly.

You continued cleaning his ear little by little. The task was not as complicated as you thought, but you could not let your guard down with a king who can decide your fate with a snap of his fingers. After wiping the outside with absorbent cotton, you were finally done with the first ear. Sukuna was falling asleep until you asked him if he could lie down on his opposite side so you could proceed with his other ear. He did so with a grunt of annoyance, as he was very comfortable on that side, while the couch creaked under the weight.

You took a deep breath. All you had to do was repeat what you had already done, and you would finish the task alive. You watched mesmerized as Sukuna's tattooed chest rose and fell from his steady breathing. Sukuna let out a whimper as soon as you stuck the spatula in too far. You already felt your throat being slit for a simple mistake. 

“Be careful! Can’t you do something so simple?” He grumbled. 

You apologized immediately and continued on your task as you lowered your head in fear. “Damn humans,” he thought with a frown. As soon as your magic fingers touched his ear, he got over his anger and returned to the oasis of relaxation where he left off. 

Sukuna let out a yawn as soon as you finished. A proud smile of your own escaped your lips. You had survived your first direct order. You glanced at the time on the large gold clock hanging over the door. It was getting late, and you had to get back to the kitchen soon to help with the dinner preparations. You returned the utensils to their respective places and got up to politely leave the place. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna asked you as he got up from the couch to move to his giant bed. “Massage my head,” he ordered once again. You nodded obediently. 

His majesty's bed was lined with the softest fabrics in the world. The silk pillows were engraved with the flags of the kingdom, the blankets were of pure wool and the mattress appeared to be made of goose feathers. Sukuna's heavy head was on your comfortable lap. Your soft thighs were softer than her own pillows. Your magic fingers massaged his temples in circles. You could hear him purring subtly like a contented kitten, even though he was physically not as cute as one.

Before long, Sukuna was fast asleep. Seeing his eyes closed and his light breathing, you decided to go with the other servants to continue your work. As soon as you got off the bed, he left his heat provider on his side. Before you could continue your way to the exit, you heard that terrible voice behind you.

“Who told you could leave?” You froze in place and turned to face him. His red eyes looked at you with disdain, more on the terrifying side. “Come here,” your heart did a backflip when you heard that command. 

More than an order, it ended up being a warning. He pulled you by the white apron to capture you in his four strong arms. The warmth of his body and yours merged, causing the temperature to rise between you. Your body began to sweat from nerves. You didn't know what his intention was with you. You had never been with a man like this before, let alone a tyrant twice your size. All worry disappeared from your mind as he began to stroke your body slowly, taking care not to scratch you with his long black claws. 

Slowly, you could feel on your back as his majesty fell asleep. Sukuna did not snore as you thought he would. He let out a fainter, quieter sound, it was almost like a kitten with a stuffy nose. His arms around your waist and shoulders, his heavy breathing and comfortable chest encouraged you to fall asleep. “His majesty's orders,” you thought so you wouldn't feel so guilty about falling asleep.

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੭̲᱖　  you hated clubbing, everything about it filled you with dread. the stench of sweat, blinding lights that could send someone to the hospital, obnoxious couples grinding on every surface they could find, the risk of a psycho lacing your drink without even knowing? yeah, it definitely wasnt an atmosphere you wanted to associate with. yet here you were in your friends bathroom against your will while you stared at your attire in the mirror basically regretting your entire life decisions.

੭̲᱖　  a black laced dress clung to your body perfectly highlighting every inch and trace of your curves, stopping just at the flesh of your thighs elegantly yet not to short to where you could look trashy and as though you had no dignity. your legs were covered with a thin pair of dark tights while a pair of matching coloured heel-boots covered your feet, the length of the leather material sat just under your knee caps. finally, you topped off your outfit with a long sleeved leather jacket to cover your bare arms from the cold outside that awaited.

੭̲᱖　  a gasp from behind forced you to jerk your head at the noise to where your eyes met with your friends which were clung to your body, looking you up and down before giggling loudly like a child.

੭̲᱖ “oh, my, god! i didnt even recognise you for a second because of how sexy you look!” a loud squeal echoed around the marble bathroom, your friend showering you with compliments to which you shoed her off, laughing softly through the blush that grew on your cheeks with embarrassment.

੭̲᱖ “the cab is gonna be here in two minutes, pack your shit and get ready to party!” she screamed in a sing-song tone at the word party before scurrying out her bathroom to collect the rest of your friends that sat in the bedroom with wide, smiling faces. you on the other hand grunted quietly, a weird, nervous sensation twisted and fluttered in the pit of your stomach. again, you took a final look at yourself in the mirror before your friend called your name from the bottom of her stairs which fuzzed your thoughts back into reality.

੭̲᱖ grabbing your belongings, you shoved them in the small handbag that you slung over your shoulders and inhaled sharply. finally collecting yourself, your heels clicked against the floor while you followed the voice of your whining friend from the front door. there, you both squished into the backseat of the cab that had awaited outside. this was gonna be one hell of a night.

੭̲᱖　  yeah, it was worse than you could’ve ever imagined. you had been in the club for, what, half an hour? and about seven men have already tried to hit on you. one even instituted for you to be his, and quote, ‘sugar baby,’ to which you kindly assured him you had enough money as you needed.

੭̲᱖　  which wasnt wrong, you were far from poor. graduating tied top of your classfrom seoul national university just a few years back with intent to become a state worthy crime investigator. which now, you were close too, being a well know lawyer and investigator in the south, and at one point earning the badge of koreas first female officer to succeed in law enforcement. your job was where you gained your wealth and fame that surrounded you now.

੭̲᱖　  infact, growing up wasnt always easy. your mother could barely scrape by to afford food on the table every night as your dad was never around to provide for you both, too busy with his long term affairs to even give a shit about his wife and child at home. it was hard watching your mom juggle severely part time jobs at once just so you had a bed to even sleep on. even since you were a child, you promised you magically grow wealthy and provide your mother with the world. a house by the beach, to pay of all her debts, for her to live the rest of her life in peace. it was all you wanted, to see her finally happy.

੭̲᱖　  sadly, she passed the year before you graduated. and since, your independence grew rapidly to where you are now. living in central seoul in a luxury penthouse with degrees and trophies around your apartment complex and money you can’t even count if you wanted to. if only your mother was there to see your achievements.

੭̲᱖　  now here you sat in a shitty club, music shaking the floor below you while you slumped against one of the lounge chairs in the corner of your room. to your right, a girl sat atop a boys lap with their mouths crashing against each other and you physically gaged at the loud, wet noises they left out. to your left, a man triple your age slurred in your ear, the stench of alcohol and sweat rinsed his breath which tickled your ear since he trailed his finger along your cheek.

੭̲᱖　  wrinkles seemed to ridden every inch of his face, some of his teeth black and rotten due to his age. why he was in a club you had no idea, because it was clear he was meant to be in a nursing home. yet still, he leaned in to peck your neck and immediately you pressed your hand to his chest with a tight, bitchy smile.

੭̲᱖　  “do you have a lighter?” you leaned in to whisper into his ear, earning a rich chuckle from him. he hummed, riding his hand up your thigh and it made your throat burn with bile at his wrinkled, perverted touch. digging his hand into his blazer pocket, yours followed to his back one as you forced a fake giggle. there, you yanked at the bills that sat tight in his pocket, carefully removing them without him even knowing with a soft glide of your hand along his hip. how delusional of him. smirking, he handed you the lighter and you thanked him sweetly, stepping up from your seat between the cushions assuring him you will be back. you lied right through your teeth to him before your heals clicked against the sticky floor, leaving your jacket to dangle off your shoulders slightly and you shoved the back exit door open with your elbow.

੭̲᱖　  the freezing midnight air hit your skin like a bullet, goosebumps rising comfortably along your arms and thighs as you pressed your back against the wall behind you. with shaky hands you pulled the cigarettes from your jacket pocket, pressing the butt of the cigarette to sit between your lips and rose the flame that flickered from the lighter towards the front of the rolled up nicotine. there, you laid your head against the brick wall, inhaling a mouthful of smoke and fluttering your eyes shut softly. the light that illuminated from the moon glistened against your skin magically, highlighting the raw beauty from your features.

੭̲᱖　  suddenly, someone cleared their throat from beside you. you jumped, coughing rapidly at how much smoke you inhaled on accident. clutching your chest, you coughed harshly against the burning sense that tingled your throat and a figure loomed over you. your cheeks burned, eventually slowing down your breathing to where you cleared your throat, bringing the hand that clutched your chest to rub the back of your neck. slowly, your eyes trailed up the man that had watched the whole thing. his attire consisted of a black suit jacket with matching trousers and a white buttonup underneath, the first two buttons being undone and revealed a slightly toned collarbone. but then you saw his face.

੭̲᱖　  a man, perhaps his late thirties stared back. his features were all so recognisable, his sun tanned skin clear and looked extremely soft under the moonlight. his dark hair looked fluffed and messy, slightly grazing over his eyebrows which had twisted into a frown. a pair of silver lined glasses were protecting his big, brown eyes that seemed to be perched only on you. a vein ran softly along his sharp jaw, lips soft and pressed into a tight line while he stared. you frankly couldnt believe the man standing infront of you. you couldnt draw your eyes from him, not for a second.

੭᱖　  “sangwoo?” your voice was quiet, ushering with disbelief and your lips seem to part open to gape at the man you knew all to well standing infront of you.

੭̲᱖　   he didn’t speak. instead, his hand reached out to take the cigarette that dangled from your lips, your lipstick stained the end before he brought it between his own lips, inhaling sharply. he looked drained, shattered even, his eyes looked sunk and sleep deprived as he tilted his head back the same way you did earlier, exhaling a loud puff of smoke that made his adams apple bobbed in his throat.

੭̲᱖　  “i didnt know you smoked.” the lack of emotion in his tone made your stomach churn. he looked as beautiful as he did all those years ago, even with his obviously aged features and dull words. seeing him raw and live again made sparks of electricity and memories fuzz painfully at your brain.

੭̲᱖　  cho sangwoo, your childhood crush and college fling stood beside you. the last time you raw him was graduation, you both collected you diplomas together infact while his mother cheered along for you both in the waves of people. it made you feel less shit about your own mother not being there to see your amazing moment that you shared with your best friend. you still remember how euphoric it felt to throw your hat into the air beside him. the look of admiration in his eyes as he pulled you both into an embrace, quietly sobbing into your long, black graduation robe. you thought you would never see him after that day as it was also the day you moved to england for your trainee degree. and now here he stood ten years later, not able to take his pretty eyes off you while they took the whole of you in, making you turn into mush under his predatory eyes.

੭̲᱖　   “never pictured you as a club girl either.” he huffed, carefully examining the way you grew red until his eyes.

੭̲᱖　  “yeah, im not.” now it was your turn to act dull despite the warmth and nostalgia that grew in your stomach. “i had no choice but to come im afraid.” you took a step toward him, reaching up to yank the cigarette from his lips and taking it between yours, taking a long drag, tasting his lips along the end of it.

੭̲᱖　  he hummed, pushing his glasses up from the end of his nose and stared ahead. “so you dont have a mind of your own? cant make decisions for yourself, no?” his tone grew sharp and teasing, blinking a few times to hide the smirk that tickled along his lips. his cockiness made you want to smack his stupid face there and then, but you knew better than to give him the reaction you wanted and you brushed it off with another long inhale of the cigarette you both shared.

੭̲᱖　   “but you look..” his voice was low, turning his head against the wall to look down at you from his side. you matched the way he leaned back against the wall, turning your head up and to the side to catch his deepened gaze. it took everything in you not to scream in his face. to beg why he never called. why he just removed himself from your life with such ease. why it took you years to get over him while he seemed perfectly fine without you. why— “beautiful. at least that hasnt changed.” the way he complimented you so casually made you feel like putty under his fingers. every day you are complimented for your beauty, and sure, it makes you feel good about yourself. but hearing it from him was far deeper than that.

੭̲᱖　  “and you look like shit.” humour laced your tongue, offering the cigarette over to him. he scoffed dryly through a low chuckle, his fingers brushing over your palm while he took it from you. his touch. his laughter. his eyes. it felt unreal to be within his presence. and even despite the winter air that cursed the breeze, you felt the warm aura radiating from his body and filling you with happiness.

੭̲᱖　  “glad to know that mouth hasnt changed either.” again, he chuckled under his words, taking a long drag off the cigarette before dropping it to the ground bellow him, crushing it under his shoe. slowly, he lifted himself from the wall, brushing off his expensive looking blazer jacket and adjusting the end of his glasses once again. he was close enough that you could smell the twist of his cologne and smoke that clung to his broad body, a strand of hair falling to cover over his doe eyes. your breath hitched in your throat when he took the coldness of your fingers between his warm ones, using his free hand to adjusting the hair from your face that had been blown by the wind.

੭̲᱖　   the second he stood infront of you felt as though they could last for an eternity, loosing your balance within the soft colour of his eyes you thought you forgot about until now. then, you opened your mouth to speak to which he shushed you immediately, his hand petting the side of your head to feel the softness of your hair below his warm palms and you rubbed your cheek against the softness of his skin that stroked you gracefully.

੭̲᱖　  “once i come back, im going to take you out and spoil you with every ounce of money i get.” his quiet words caught you off guard, one of your eyebrows cocked up in confusion but to sooth the emotion you felt he brought his head to lean his forehead against yours. “i promise, okay. fuck, just wait for me, hm?” the emotion that now replaced his once dull tone made you think for a second that he was about to cry. yet, you couldnt help the way you fluttered your eyes closed at his vulnerability.

੭̲᱖　  “i have some.. business to attend to while im gone. it’s a lot to explain but, uhm, please, just be here when im back.” your name felt raw on his tongue, and hearing his say it after so long was a feeling you couldnt only recognise as yearning. you had so many questions. what business was so important? and what was so desperate about it that he needed to leave so soon? your thoughts could run a thousand miles if they could but then, he pulled back, forcing you to wrench your eyes open to see a piece of paper handed out infront of you, a number written along it.

੭̲᱖　  “my mother lives close by, her stall is just down the road from here.” his eyes grew in sadness, making his look like a puppy with the way they sunk at the mention of his mom. “promise me you will look after her when im gone. please.” the desperation on his tongue made you feel ill, not able to break away from his pleading gaze while his fingers squeezed yours awaiting for a response.

੭̲᱖　  “yes, cho i promise.” you managed to mumble out before his large arms came to wrap around you figure in an instant. his chin rested atop of your head, his palm stroking the back of your hair while you nestled the side of your cheek to press against the hardness of his chest. raw vulnerability reeked the air around the both. so did comfort. the way you could felt him tense below your body sent tears to spark your eyes. you intended on holding onto him a little longer, but it turned he had other plans. pulling himself away, he avoided eye contact with you as he took a few steps back. suddenly, a grey van began to pull up over from across the street and his eyes seemed to be glued to its content. just then, he looked back at you.

੭̲᱖　  “wait for me.” your nickname rolled off his tongue with tenderness, slowly turning his back to you as he walked away. every inch of you body screamed for you to run after him. you spent every moment of your life dreaming about this man and the second you get him back he leaves just as easy as he came. but no, your body refused to move, tears burnt your eyes while you watched him cross the street toward the car that seemed to be waiting for him. he looked back again. this time, face drained of emotion, and then he opened the car door and settling himself inside before the door immediately slammed shut. there you felt the tears break the wall that tried so hard to keep them in, bottom lip trembling as you looked down at the napkin in your palm, your tears wetting the material while you stared at the number written in his messy handwriting.

੭̲᱖　  he left without a trace. and it was safe to say from that day on, you never saw his face ever again.

[amirasainz]

I was wondering if you could write a Pierre x reader where it’s kinda like your lance one where they’re having a photo shoot but things get spicy

Oh my god. It's been so long since I wrote an Amira Sainz story. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to write one again.

Guys, you can always send me requests for anything❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

The Perfect Shot

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays shimmering off the azure waves surrounding the luxurious yacht. The gentle rocking of the boat created a soothing rhythm, the sound of laughter mingling with the soft lapping of water against the hull. Amira stood at the edge of the deck, the salty breeze playing with her long, dark hair. She wore a stunning black swimsuit that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure. The elegant jewellery she adorned sparkled like stars against her sun-kissed skin, while her high heels lent her an air of sophistication even on a yacht.

Pierre leaned against the railings, wearing nothing but stylish swimming trunks that showcased his athletic build. He adjusted his sleek sunglasses, his heart racing at the sight of Amira. They were friends, of course—he had spent many weekends with the Sainz family, enjoying their hospitality and bonding with Carlos. But today, it felt different; the atmosphere was charged with a tension that made Pierre’s palms sweat.

“Are you ready, Amira?” he called, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Just a second!” she replied, turning to face him, the sunlight illuminating her face. “I want to make sure I look perfect for these shots!”

Pierre stepped closer, trying to keep his composure. “You already look perfect. You’re going to steal the spotlight, not just from the yacht but from the ocean itself.”

Amira blushed slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink as she adjusted the necklace around her neck. “Stop it, you’re making me nervous!” She giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear. “This is just a fun photoshoot, right?”

“Fun? Absolutely! But also a chance for me to get some incredible pictures of you,” Pierre teased, stepping back to take a mental snapshot of her. “Just think of it as practice for when you become a model.”

“Me? A model?” Amira laughed, tilting her head in disbelief. “I think I’d trip and fall before the camera even clicked!”

“Not with me around to catch you,” Pierre shot back, his heart skipping at the thought. “Besides, you’ll be too busy stunning everyone with that smile of yours.”

With a playful eye roll, Amira joined him on the deck. “Okay, let’s get started before I change my mind!”

The photographer, a well-known professional with a reputation for capturing breathtaking moments, was already set up with his camera, ready to catch every smile, laugh, and spontaneous moment. “Alright, you two! Let’s get some warm-up shots. Amira, why don’t you sit on Pierre’s lap for the first pose?”

Amira’s eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Pierre. He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the rapid beating of his heart. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

With a hesitant smile, she sat down on his lap, her heart racing for entirely different reasons now. The warmth of Pierre’s body radiated against her, and she couldn’t help but notice how close they were. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Perfect,” Pierre whispered, leaning in slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. “Just relax and have fun.”

As the camera clicked, Pierre wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her securely. “You know, you look absolutely stunning like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “The sea has nothing on your beauty.”

Amira giggled, feeling a thrill from the compliment. “You’re just saying that to make me blush!”

“I would never lie about something so important,” he replied, his tone playful yet sincere. “Trust me, you’re the highlight of my day.”

As they posed, Amira felt more comfortable, her laughter mingling with Pierre’s teasing remarks. He whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter, each comment bringing them closer. “What if I told you I’d never want to take my eyes off you?” he murmured, leaning closer.

“Is that a line?” she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Maybe it’s a promise,” he replied softly, his eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his sunglasses.

After a few more poses, the photographer suggested they change locations to the front of the yacht. “Let’s try a more dynamic shot! Amira, stand at the edge while Pierre holds your waist from behind.”

Amira moved to the edge, her heart pounding as Pierre stepped behind her. She felt his hands at her waist, grounding her, and the ocean breeze blew her hair back dramatically. “Are you scared?” he asked, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine.

“A little,” she admitted, glancing back at him. “But I feel safe with you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear. “Just remember to breathe. And if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

The photographer snapped away, capturing the moments of joy, laughter, and undeniable chemistry between them. As Amira leaned forward to pose, Pierre’s grip tightened, and he couldn’t resist whispering, “You know, if you keep looking that beautiful, I might just have to keep you on this yacht forever.”

“Is that so?” she teased, her heart racing. “And what would we do here? Just take photos all day?”

Pierre chuckled, his face lighting up. “Well, I can think of a few other things…” His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air, thick with tension.

“Oh really? Like what?” Amira prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Like maybe having a little dance party on the deck, just us and the ocean,” he suggested, the playful glint in his eyes making her laugh. “Or a sunset picnic, where I can show you my cooking skills… or lack thereof.”

Amira’s laughter rang out, bright and genuine. “I’d love that, but we might need to stick to takeout unless you plan to burn the yacht down!”

“Touché! Let’s focus on the photoshoot for now,” Pierre said, laughing. “But remember, I have plenty of ideas.”

As they continued to pose, the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over everything. Pierre’s playful side came out as he tried to make Amira laugh in every shot, pulling funny faces and whispering the most ridiculous compliments. “You know, if you don’t stop being this cute, I might really fall for you,” he joked, though a part of him meant every word.

“Good luck with that! I’m pretty clumsy,” she replied, laughing as she adjusted her hair.

Pierre smirked, “Clumsy is charming! It’s like a bonus point in the dating world.”

“Oh really? Is that how it works?” Amira shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“It’s my philosophy,” he said, “and I might just have to test it out someday.”

Amira felt a warmth spread through her at his words, a flutter of excitement dancing in her chest. “Maybe we should make a deal then,” she suggested, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“A deal?” Pierre raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yes! If you can make me laugh in the next few poses, I’ll agree to a sunset picnic,” she said, her smile infectious.

“Challenge accepted!” he grinned. “You won’t know what hit you.”

With renewed energy, they continued posing. Pierre made silly faces, spun around, and even tried to dance, making Amira laugh uncontrollably. The photographer captured every moment, but it was the chemistry between them that truly shone through the lens.

Finally, the photographer suggested a final pose as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange. “Let’s do something romantic. Amira, sit on the edge, and Pierre, come behind her again, but this time, wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close.”

Amira’s breath caught as she followed the direction. She perched on the edge of the yacht, feeling the cool breeze against her skin. Pierre stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. “You’re going to fall!” she teased, turning her head to look at him.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” he whispered, his breath tickling her neck. “Just hold on tight.”

As they posed, Pierre leaned closer, his lips almost grazing her skin. “You know, this moment is perfect,” he murmured, a seriousness replacing the playfulness. “I can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.”

Amira felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks. “You’re making me blush again!”

“That’s my job,” Pierre said, a playful smirk on his face. “Now smile for the camera, beautiful.”

As the photographer captured the moment, Amira turned her head slightly, and their lips brushed ever so lightly. Both froze, the air thick with tension as their eyes met. Pierre’s heart raced, and he felt a rush of boldness. “Amira, I…”

Before he could finish, Amira interrupted, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe we should focus on the photos…”

But Pierre couldn’t resist the urge. “What if I told you I really like you, Amira? Like, a lot,” he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and delight. “Really?” she asked, searching his face for sincerity.

“Absolutely. You’re amazing—funny, sweet, and beautiful. I can’t help it,” he admitted, his arms tightening around her as if to emphasize his words.

Amira felt a rush of warmth in her chest. “I had no idea you felt that

°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°

The conference room buzzed with energy as Carlos and Charles sat across from each other, going over strategy for the upcoming race. The air was thick with anticipation until Carlos's phone buzzed incessantly on the table.

“¿Qué demonios?!” Carlos exclaimed, his eyes widening as he glanced at the screen. Photos of Amira in her black swimsuit, giggling and wrapped in Pierre’s arms on the yacht, flooded his notifications.

“Carlos?” Charles asked, noticing the sudden shift in his friend’s demeanor.

Carlos stood up, pacing the room, his fists clenching. “¡Maldita sea! This is unacceptable!” he swore in Spanish, frustration boiling over. “What the hell was Pierre thinking?”

Charles, looking pale, muttered, “I didn’t know… I thought they were just friends…”

Carlos shot him a look, his protective instincts kicking in. “Just friends? Look at those pictures! He’s all over her!”

Charles buried his head in his hands, his world crumbling. “Oh my God, please, no... Amira, no,” he murmured, instinctively praying in Italian, “Per favore, proteggila!”

Fred, sitting at the head of the table, sighed heavily, clearly done with the chaos. “Calm down, Carlos! You’re acting like a child. We have a meeting!”

“Not until I deal with this,” Carlos shot back, determination etched on his face. “I’m going to strangle Pierre!”

“Calm down before you end up on the front page of the tabloids,” Fred replied, exasperated, rubbing his temples.

As Carlos continued to pace, Charles whispered a silent prayer for Amira’s safety and asked God to give him the chance to do a photoshoot with her next.

[blueishspace]

NON-WINNERS LIFE SERIES MEMBERS as celestial objects since they might eventually become winners. p.1

Tango - Venus

Extremely hot, hottest planet in the solar system thanks to it's thick vulcanic atmosphere. Lightning storming firey surface yet calm clouds at higher elevation.

It's surface is partially melted due to vulcanic activity. (Also looks bald without clouds lmao.

Despite this It's called after Venus, ronan goddes of love equated to the greek's Aphrodite. Love and beauty, what does Tango have to do with that?

Hmmm I wonder.

Bdubs - Ceres.

Ceres is a muddy (literally clay) dwarf planet (small) that orbits in the asteroid belt between Jupiter and Mars. It is full of craters since it stays in the asteroid belt and wouldn't you know it that fits as well.

Also it is named after the roman goddess of nature often equated to Demeter which fits perfectly with his nature and especially moss theme.

Etho - Mimas.

I could give a bunch of reasons for this one like silver fitting Etho perfectly or the icyness fitting with Etho's association with ice. But like..

You see it right?

Also Mimas is a moon of Saturn exactly like his soulmate-

Joel - Titan

This is Titan, the biggest of Saturn's moons. The colour fits that of a swamp and the name titan usually refers to something gigantic despite this being only a moon and not a planet and therefore small. It's also at the temperature where methane has a cycle similiar to water and has a haze of methane vapour covering it like mist...it therefore smells and looks very swampy.

Also also if we do this we can have Lizzie as Titania, which is a different moon named after the fae queen which fits perfectly with Lizzie... Speaking of:

Lizzie - Titania

Not only all that I stated in Joel's bit but this moon is also mostly made of ice and likely has an ocean of water underneath the ice. This means It's both linked to Ocean Queen Lizzie and fae Lizzie. Also It's not completely gray, it has a red-pinkish hue... It's a uranus moon btw.

Jimmy - Europa.

First of all completes the trio with Lizzie and Joel as it is a Jupiter moon (While Titan is a satellite of Saturn and Titania of Uranus).

Second of all It's canary colored with two almost wing shaped patches on opposite sides.

Third of all it has a strong connection with death and dying because it is literally covered in bleeding wounds.

Skizz - Uranus.

Listen, It's a chill big blue planet that spins really funky and has an halo of ice. It's perfect for Skizz, I already said so once and I'll say it again.

Also Skizz would love it because of the jokes around the name.

If you aren't convinced Uranus is named after the greek god of the sky which fits Skizz's making TIES live in the sky and his obsession with wind charges in Hermitcraft.

BigB - Neptune.

Dark cold and mysterious, the strongest storms in the solar system hidden by a facade of calmness and peacefulness. The furthest planet from the sun it is the one that holds the most mysteries. The one we know the least about between the main 8.

[concreteangel92]

The Angel Of The Night

AU Noah Sebastian x female reader

18+

Warnings: smut, PiV, oral (female receiving) praise kink, slight obsessive/stalker elements (this is based off of the ghost of the opera house himself 🤣) talks of the death of loved ones, dark romance, I’m pretty sure that’s it

So this has been in the works since August when I watched the phantom of the opera in Greece on my first night there haha I’ve always loved this show (west end and film!) and I even have a tattoo dedicated to it so it was a no brainer to me that Noah would fit perfectly into this aesthetic!

The mask (especially the new one!!) the glove, his voice all mixed with an old theatre and gothic aesthetic and atmosphere? Hell fucking yes!!

Remember that this is an inspired fic so you’ll see familiar names, themes, etc but it’s not the actual whole story! But if you’re a fan of the soundtrack, you may recognise a few lyrics here and there 🤭

I hope you all enjoy it, it’s a long one so grab yourself a cuppa and I’ll see you on the next fic. Also please let me know your thoughts!! I’d love to know what you all think as this is definitely the longest I’ve ever spent writing one story haha let me know, you can always message me anonymously if you’re shy 🖤

Tags: @triedbimsoblu333 @I00na24 @iluvmewwwww75 @veronicaphoenix @tosoundlessdarkistare @specialstay @dsireland86 @philomenie @clingylittlebun-blog @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lilcrazy011

Masterlist

You’d been with your theatre company since you were a child, having lost your parents at a young age, the opera house is all you have ever really known.

You loved it here, the old theatre was your home. You knew every wing like the back of your hand, every creaky floorboard backstage, how the orchestra pit echoed when no one was in it, you knew the creepiest parts that no one like to venture into. You loved it all, it was your sanctuary.

There was something about the theatre that made you feel at peace, standing up on the stage in front of a huge audience, hearing their cheers and cries that made your heart swell. The heat of the spotlights, the magic you felt as you danced to beat of the live music, everything about it made you feel so alive.

The year was 1870 in Paris and you were currently playing the leading role in the current opera ‘Hannibal’

It was your debut as the leading lady and to say you were nervous was an understatement.

You walked quietly around the empty stalls of the theatre, taking in its musky smell, the beautiful architecture of the building and the huge crystal chandelier that hung high above your head. You ran your fingers across the old red velvet on the chair in front of you and sat yourself down in one of the seats near the pit.

The stage was empty but you could hear the hustle and bustle backstage of the cast and crew getting everything ready for opening night tonight, although there was still hours to go, there was still much more that needed to be set up.

You fiddled with your fingers nervously in your lap, taking a deep breath, you couldn’t help but speak aloud softly.

“Please….please let tonight go well”

You kept your eyes closed as you leant back in the chair, allowing a moment for yourself to process the evening that you knew lay ahead. You were certain you had been alone….until you heard his voice.

From high up above your head, in the gods, you heard his beautiful, ethereal voice humming down to you.

With a small gasp, you opened your eyes and looked up into darkness, and there amongst the ropes and pulleys of the backdrops and lights, you saw his silhouette and instantly a small smile appeared on your lips.

“There you are”

Your words were barely a whisper, your angel of music was right there with you. You should have known he wouldn’t be far away.

“Y/N what are you doing down there? You need to get ready for tonight!”

You tore your eyes away from your mysterious friend and saw your teacher/guardian Madame Giry standing in the wings on stage left.

“Yes Madame”

You casted up eyes up once more to the heavens to see that he was gone, like a ghost who was never there in the first place.

•••••

He was nicknamed the ‘Opera Ghost’

No one in the theatre ever questioned that box 5 was always left empty so no customer could use it, people ignored the eerie echoes of his angelic singing that seemed to come from no where all around the old building. No one had ever seen him fully, only catching glimpses of his shadow in the night.

No one, but you.

You were the only person to have had any interaction with the ghost. He had started visiting you when you were a child, you were 8 years old when your parents had met their tragic end and you were fated to the theatre. It wasn’t long after that you started to hear his voice in the night.

It started off with just singing, he comforted you when you were crying yourself to sleep, not having come to terms with the loss of your parents and the change that was about to happen within your life. You had felt so alone, you hardly knew anyone within the company, the only reason you came to be here was because Madame Giry was a close friend to your mother and she had agreed to take you in when they died.

But in those long, lonely first nights and weeks, his beautiful voice helped you drift off to sleep.

As the years went on, the beautiful voice became deeper and he started to talk to you quietly from within the walls, the mirror, you never knew exactly where he was but you always knew he was there.

In recent years, he had been singing your songs with you, helping you train your soprano skills, a patient teacher and a loyal companion is what you knew him to be.

Although you knew people had dubbed him the ‘opera ghost’ you felt that wasn’t a suitable title for this angelic creature so you called him your very own ‘angel of the night’ which was a nickname you often heard him whispering back to you.

Your angel wasn’t just a teacher to you anymore, he had become a friend. You told him all your hopes, dreams and your darkest fears. You’d talk to him until you heard the faint sound of the birds chirping and saw the first rays of the morning sun rising over the horizon through your window.

He would still sing you to sleep on the nights you struggled, when the past traumas returned in the forms of nightmares, he was always there to help take your fears away.

His voice was like nothing you had ever heard before. He sounded almost like a siren calling out to his awaiting victims and just like one, you felt the pull within your soul every time he called.

Tonight was the opening night, your big debut, but that wasn’t the only reason for your nerves. You knew he’d be there, watching from box 5, hidden within the shadows, but always there.

“Will he be impressed? Will I be everything he hoped for?”

These thoughts plagued your mind as you walked down the corridor, your heels clicking with every step, until you reached your dressing room/living quarters.

You wrapped your hand around the old doorknob and turned it so your door swung open with a creak.

In front of you was your dressing room, your bedroom was through the door at the back of the room, the walls were a beautiful shade of red, almost matching the seats in the theatre stalls out front. There were beautiful paintings in gold frames on the walls of your favourite artwork, a huge mirror that took up one wall, a rail of costumes and props lined another, you had your changing screen next to that and then you also had your beautiful make up vanity, surrounded by candles and all your make up and jewellery that was laid out for you on the counter.

But what caught your attention was the most beautiful bouquet of flowers, roses of the darkest red lay across your chair with a hand written piece of paper on top.

You walked over and picked up your present, inhaling their beautiful scent while you read the note.

‘To my beautiful angel’

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, you knew it was him, he had left you a good luck token in preparation for tonight.

You felt your nerve’s ease, you knew you could do this, as you knew your angel would be watching over you.

•••••

The sounds of a standing ovation, loud cheers and clapping filled your ears as you took your final bow, flowers of all kinds being thrown onto the stage around your feet.

The show had gone without a hitch, your solo performance had been an absolute triumph that brought the audience to their feet. Throughout the production you had tried glancing up at box 5, hoping to see a glimpse of him but of course, nothing. Just the sight of the curtains moving gently when it was take to take the bows, almost like they had been caught in the non existent breeze.

Your vision was blocked completely as the main house curtain fell to the stage, muffling out the sounds of the audience still cheering from the other side.

You felt yourself being embraced by your fellow cast and crew members, all congratulating you on your performance.

“That what incredible!”

“Bravo!”

“Y/N you were sensational!”

You felt your cheeks go warm at all the compliments, the adrenaline still fully pumping through your body as you tried to catch your breath.

You thanked everyone and helped pick up the flowers littered across the stage to take back to your dressing room.

“He was there, I know he was! I wonder if he liked it?”

You felt butterflies start in your stomach at the thought, you would never want to disappoint him, you craved to know how he felt. You couldn’t wait to get back to your room.

You once again gave everyone your thanks and made your leave, half jogging down the corridors behind the theatre.

Once you entered your room, you put down all your flowers, taking note of even more bouquets that had been sent here from different admirers that were now spread around and all the lanterns and candles were burning beautifully, giving the room a beautiful golden glow.

You walked behind your changing screen and started to remove your heavy dress, a costume you were relieved to be out of, finally feeling like you could breathe normally once the corset was gone. You settled for a simple white lace dress that fell to floor. You removed all the pins from your hair and allowed it to cascade down your back. You were about to remove the make up on your face when you heard a knock at your door.

You called out for them to enter and you looked up into your mirror and saw Madame Giry standing there with another body behind her.

“Sorry to disturb you Y/N but there is someone who would like to meet you?”

You turned around and glanced behind and saw a handsome young man standing almost nervously on the spot with his top hat in his hands. He had short dark hair, was an average height and was wearing a formal dinner suit fit for the theatre.

You nodded and Madame Giry stepped aside so he could walk forward.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you”

You smiled politely, stood and offered your hand for him to grasp in his own as he bowed his head gently.

“My name is Henry Edwards. Do excuse my intuition miss, I was just so captivated by your performance that I wanted to give my congratulations in person. I’ve actually seen many performances here at this theatre but tonight was by far the best I have ever seen”

You smiled wider at his words, his face definitely looking more familiar now that he’s mentioned he’d been here before. You’d often seen him admiring your dancing in previous productions.

“Thank you Mr Edwards, you are too kind”

“If I was to be so bold Miss Y/N, I would love to be able to discuss your performance further, perhaps over tea or a stroll around the park?”

You were taken back by his proposal, not used to men being so forward with you or even desiring you at all really.

“Oh erm…yes, I…I think that would be a lovely idea”

You panicked, you knew you weren’t particularly interested in the man in front of you but what harm was there to be courted for an afternoon.

Henry looked very pleased as he fumbled over a thank you, his next words were lost on you as you suddenly felt a presence within the room, the presence of someone who wasn’t happy at all.

You turned your head to the big mirror behind you and watched as a few of the near by candles flickered angrily before going out completely, leaving nothing but whips of smoke behind.

“Mine”

The word was whispered so low and dragged out that it almost sounded like the wind, but you knew better, the realisation sending chills down your spine.

You turned back and caught Madame Giry’s gaze, it was as shocked as your own, she knew.

“Well Mr Edwards, I’m sorry but that will be all for tonight, Miss Y/L/N is extremely tired and needs to rest her voice. Come back in a couple days to arrange this meeting?”

Madame had already started pulling gently on his arm and gesturing for him to leave, he looked baffled at first but soon composed himself.

“Oh erm…yes, yes, of course. Goodnight Miss Y/L/N and I’ll pop by in a few days?”

You nodded with a forced smile as you watched as he slipped his top hat back upon his head and walked out of the room, Madame Giry giving you one last look before shutting the door behind her, the sound echoing through the empty room.

But you knew you were far from alone.

You turned around to face the mirror, staring at your own reflection, the sound of his quiet humming started once more and you felt pulled towards the mirror.

Almost like you were in a trance, you stepped forward, your eyes glued to your own reflection until you noticed another pair of eyes staring back at you from over your shoulder.

You should have been afraid, you should have called out for help, but you didn’t.

Dark almond eyes gazed back into your own, his face becoming more clearer the closer you got. But it wasn’t his whole face you saw. It was covered by half of a white mask, almost like he was trying to hide his true identity.

You stood frozen in place as your angel came fully into view, it was like he’d appeared from the mirror itself, like he truly was a mystical creature from another world.

His song was hypnotising, the melody causing your head to feel so light and airy, like you were floating on a cloud.

You looked up in your dream like state to see him standing in front of you.

You reached your hand out without a thought and was met with a hard, firm chest, your angel was truly here.

Taking in his appearance, he was even more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. He was tall, extremely tall and towered over your small frame and was just as broad in his chest and back. You could see he had shiny, brown hair that was falling down to his neck, it looked so soft that you felt the urge to run your fingers through it.

Your angel was wearing a black suit with a long black cloak over the top and of course the half mask, you had never wanted to remove something so much in your life, his face was absolutely perfect, why would he hide? His eyes appeared darker now he was in front of you, he had the most intense stare that you’d ever seen, it was like he could see into your very soul and read your every thought.

The last thing you took note of was his tattoos that were peaking out over his collar and on his right hand, his other being covered with a black leather glove. It was unusual to see a man around these parts that had tattoos, you’d never seen any before.

He moved around your body slowly, his hands running up through the air next to your arms, not touching but still your skin felt like it had been set alight. As his hands came up near your face, he gestured for you to look ahead.

“Look at your face in the mirror, I am there inside. I am your angel of music”

You inhaled deeply as you took in the sight of him standing directly behind you, his whole presence was consuming you.

His face suddenly looked angry as he whispered his next words.

“Insolent boy. Does your young suitor really think that he can take what’s mine?”

You turned to face him, the thought of your angel being angry with you was too much to bare.

“Angel my soul is weak, forgive me! Yours is the only one that calls me”

He stood staring down into your eyes, like he was trying to find a lie but he would find none. You knew your heart belonged to him, it always had.

“Hide no longer from me”

Your words were hardly audible but you knew he’d heard. No words were given in return, all you could hear the was sounds of his beautiful song again as it’s filled your mind. He walked back around your body and backed himself up towards the mirror, that was when he held out his hand to you, you took it without hesitation.

Your head light as a feather, you followed him willingly, you hardly paid attention to where you were going or how you got there, all that mattered was that you were with him. His siren song never once stopping as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors heading down to the catacombs beneath the city.

The walls were lined with candles, all lit up, the air was damp and cold against your skin.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Your beautiful angel in front of you, he could have been leading you to the pits of hell and you wouldn’t have cared. He kept looking back at you every so often, as if to make sure you hadn’t vanished.

Coming up to the waters edge, you noticed a small boat ready, he stepped into it first and one again extended his hand out, you took it and stepped into the boat after him.

The foggy feeling never left, you felt so free, so light, like nothing could touch you ever again. It was almost like you’d become a spirit of another realm, not of this earth but not quite moved onto the next.

You continued to listen to his voice, just as he always had done, he soothed away any of your fears. You took note of all the burning candles, the way the water lapped up the sides and casted a beautiful rippling reflection up on the walls.

As you rowed further into the catacombs, you saw your destination. This could only be his home.

It was breathtaking, even more candles lit the area and it was living space in the middle of the caves. Artwork, statues and musical instruments of all kinds surrounded you. And roses, dark red roses everywhere.

You closed your eyes as you felt the inner peace of contentment washed over you, you couldn’t describe it any other way, it was like you were in a dream.

The sound of his voice gently stopped as he got out of the boat and you stood to follow, allowing him to place his hands on your waist and lift you easily onto the floor.

You started to turn your head around to take in your surroundings but you felt his fingers grasp your chin gently but firm and pulled your face back to meet his.

You tilted your head and glanced down at his lips, wondering if he would lean down into you.

Gazing up into his face, you really took in his features, he was absolutely perfect. Your eyes wandered to the mask and your hand reached up slowly to push it off of him before you even truly thought of your actions.

Your hand was stopped by his gripping onto your wrist sharply and tightly, his eyes first the first time showing any sort of vulnerability as he shook his head slightly.

“Why do you hide from me angel?”

He brought your hand back down gently and took a deep breath.

“Because I would repulse you, you’d run from me”

You brought your free hand up and held onto his cheek, the pads of your fingers gently caressing his smooth skin.

“I could never, you’re my guide, my guardian…my friend”

His eyes soften at your words, you watched the candles fire reflecting and dancing deep within his irises as you waited for his response.

Your angel stood slightly straighter, he let go of your hand and he reached up until the base of the mask was between his fingertips. He hesitated for a moment before he ducked his head down and slid the mask off, his hair falling back into place as it was removed.

When he looked back up, the sight that greeted you was a shock. The whole right side of his face and into his scalp was burnt and had deep scaring. You would have believed it to be painful but it was clear to see that these were not fresh wounds.

You gasped quietly but you didn’t recoil. Instead you raised your hand and held the right side of his neck gently and leaned up and kissed his jagged skin softly, not missing the low moan it pulled from his throat as you did.

“Those that have seen your face draw back in fear. I do not”

“I do not frighten you little one?”

You shook your head and continued to gently stroke his scars.

“Never. Please tell me angel, do you have a name?”

“Noah”

His name left your lips in a whisper, your eyes half lidded as you looked up at him. It was a beautiful name that was well suited to the man before you.

His hand came up to brush your hair from your face, you couldn’t help but softy sing his own song back to him, not missing how his eyes darken.

“Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams”

Your eyes fell shut, the next feeling was his lips upon yours, gently moving with you.

It was electric, both of his hands came up to cradle your neck, holding close as he pressed his body into yours.

Pulling away, his hands slowly wandered down your body, your breathing was starting to quicken within your chest.

“Trust me?”

You nodded without hesitation, your eyes never leaving his. Noah then picked you up bridal style and carried you over to a huge king size bed that was covered in red sheets and was surrounded by a black lace canopy.

He set you down onto your feet and moved behind you to start undoing the ties on the back of your dress, letting his fingers trace the skin beneath as he did.

“Where does your soul long to be?”

You turned to face him, your dress loose over your shoulders.

“With you, I belong to you, I have always belonged to you”

He lowered his head down to you and once again captured your lips between his own, this time more passionate than before. Noah slipped his hands into the fabric at the top of your dress and continued to slide it off your shoulders as he moved his head down to start ghosting kisses along your collar bone.

You moved your hands into his hair and finally felt how soft it really was, it was like silk moving between your fingers.

You felt your dress starting to fall off of you, fully aware that your top half was completely bare underneath. You felt the material pool around your feet and his hands settled onto your hips as he continued to kiss and gently bite your skin, moving further down.

Your stomach was starting to tighten, the feeling that was washing over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he started to moved his head lower and gently sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, feeling his warm tongue flicking over the harden bud while his hand came up to caress the other, rolling that nipple between his fingers.

You tried to hold back the noises that your body wanted to make, feeling self conscious of how you must have sounded, something Noah seemed to pick up on easily.

“Savour each sensation my little angel, let me hear you, let your darker side give in to me”

You watched as Noah stood tall and removed the cloak from his shoulders and his jacket and carelessly let them fall to the ground, he then moved you back until your legs hit the bed and he guided you down onto the plush mattress and your body sank into the pillows, his body following yours swiftly after.

You felt his hands running up your bare legs up to your underwear, toying with the waistband teasingly before pulling them off slowly, he was clearly savouring every noise or squirm your body was making under his touch.

“You’re mine my little angel, you belong to me”

You nodded, unable to form any words due to the feeling of him ghosting his lips across your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart slowly.

“Say it”

“I’ve always been yours Noah”

The sound of his name felt so right, he had always been there and you had always been his.

Noah used his hands to push your legs further apart, opening you up for him. A low groan came from deep within his chest as he leant down and licked one slow, long strip up your centre, the feeling sending shock waves through your body and your back to arch off the mattress.

You felt his fingers move to your outer lips to part them gently so he could flick his tongue inside, loving tasting you for the first time.

The sensations that were flooding your body was nothing short of pure ecstasy, Noah continued to eat you out slowly and let his thumb move upward so he could start rubbing firm circles against your clit.

“Oh my….Noah, please!”

You didn’t know what you were begging for, your body felt alive, your stomach was twisting beautifully and your hands found themselves running through his hair, pushing him closer into your centre.

The pleasure that you felt was overwhelming, your thighs were starting to shake, tears were forming in the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t stop the cries that left your mouth.

Noah didn’t stop, he moved his fingers faster and continued to devour you until your legs squeezed around his head and the breath was pulled from your lungs as your orgasm washed over you and you felt like you were floating and falling all at the same time.

Once you started to come back down, you saw that Noah had stripped himself of the rest of his clothes and was settling himself down in between your legs. The sight of how many tattoos he truly had was astonishing.

“I’ve waited so long to feel you around me my little dove”

Noah reached down and gripped himself and ran his head along your folds, your wetness gathering onto him, before he slowly pushed his hips forward, the feeling of him stretching you open was almost sinful.

Your head fell back into the pillows and his head fell into your neck as he growled from the feeling of you. Your hands came and found themselves wrapped around his arms as you adjusted to his size.

“You’re perfect…it’s like you were made for me”

Your cheeks became warm at his words, his praise making your core throb with need.

Noah started moving his hips against yours, it was a torturously slow and deep pace that caused you to feel every inch of him against your walls, your body instantly reacting to his movements.

“You feel incredible around me angel, fuck…you’re so fucking perfect. My perfect little angel”

You moaned loudly, his words mixed with his deep thrusts was intoxicating, your heart was swimming with so many emotions, you never wanted this moment to end.

You reached your hand up and placed it onto his scared skin, wanting to show him that he was beautiful in your eyes. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started to thrust harder, a layer of sweat had now coated both of your bodies and the room echoed with the sounds of your cries and skin slapping onto skin.

“Noah…I..I feel…”

You couldn’t finish your words, you didn’t need to, Noah knew you were near your end. His hips moved faster, the motion pressing your body into the mattress as your nails dug into the skin on his back as your body wound itself up tighter.

“Cum for me, I want to feel you”

Noah’s own hips started to falter as your body was suddenly convulsing underneath his and you screamed out his name, you squeezed your eyes shut as you rode out the waves of your high, feeling Noah’s release deep inside of you as he groaned loudly into your shoulder.

You felt Noah kiss your skin softly as he slipped himself out, the loss leaving you feeling so empty. He brought you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly as if he was frightened you’d leave.

“Stay with me?”

You looked up with a smile and kissed his lips.

“Forever”

Noah smiled back and he pulled the covers over your naked bodies and he started to hum his song once again, the song that you’d known since you were young.

It was beautiful, it was haunting but most of all, it was comforting. You snuggled into his side and allowed your angel of music to sing you into a beautiful, deep sleep.

[4doras]

ADDICTION ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you’re addicted to this one coffee shop, but you’re never getting any coffee. ⊹♡

ricky x reader | enemies (?) to lovers

genre. fluff (lowercase intended)

wc. 1.4k

a/n. finally wrote something for ricky!! i hope you guys like this ~ also warning for slight swearing

you never really liked coffee, but you found yourself continuing to go to a coffee shop. maybe it was the atmosphere, or the smell of the coffee brewing, or the guy that came everyday. it was probably the last one. he was well dressed, his hair was perfectly styled, he was the perfect man.

for a change of heart, you decided to buy a coffee today. you ordered an iced americano, you liked the bitter taste of the coffee, especially when it lingered on your tongue after. “order for y/n!” the cashier called out. you walked up to the register and grabbed your coffee, on your way to leave. but to your disappointment, the coffee was flying out of your grasp before you could even take a sip. “shit! i'm so sorry.” you apologized before looking up to see the love of your life. “are you serious…” you heard him mumble in a low tone. “i’m so sorry, oh my god.” your coffee was splashed all over his white shirt, now staining it brown. “i can do something for you.” you tried to make the situation better. “you’ve done enough, already.” he sighed. clearly, your attempt hadn’t worked. you walked out of the store, leaving without a drink.

more under the cut!

“i thought you were getting a drink?” gyuvin asked you, staring at you dumbfounded as you held nothing in your hands. “i bumped into a guy and it spilled all over him.” you got comfortable in your seat, sulking without a drink. “funny, my friend got a drink spilled on him. but he said the person was pretty, so i guess it’s not you.” he teased you, trying to make the conversation more happy. “oh, shut up, gyuvin!” you pushed his shoulder.

this small interaction didn't stop you from coming everyday, even if that meant seeing the guy you spilled your coffee on. maybe you were drunk in love from his good looks. what you didn’t expect was gyuvin walking in with the guy. “oh, y/n!” gyuvins lanky arm shot up, waving his arm in the air. he and his friend waddled over to your little table.

“why's it so… tense?” gyuvin asked. “she spilled her coffee on me that day.” ricky flatly said. “hey, look at that! i should order the drinks.” gyuvin smiled, leaving you and the mystery man alone. “you think i'm pretty?” you immediately started. “of course gyuvin told you that.” he rolled his eyes. “well?” you weren’t going to shut up until you got an answer. “i thought you were pretty before you chucked your drink on me, yeah.” he admitted. “i didn't do it on purpose!” you fought, “you bumped into me, if anything.” you crossed your arms, laying back into your chair. “enough fighting!” gyuvin cut the two of you off before a fight broke out. “anyway, y/n, this is ricky, ricky, this is y/n. you two will be good friends.” gyuvin took you and ricky’s hand, holding them together, and shaking them, imitating you two shaking hands.

ricky was weird. how could he look so cold, and dark, but love such cute things? a man like him doesn’t fit the image of ordering strawberry drinks whenever the option was available. he quietly sipped on his strawberry smoothie, as he listened to you and gyuvin talk, his eyes diverting to whoever was taking. you picked out all these small habits ricky had. but it wasn’t to say that he didn't hate you. whenever you and him were left by gyuvin, his whole personality seemed to change. with gyuvin, he seemed cuter and smiley, with you, he became quiet and reserved.

the things ricky did to tick you off, was in vain. it didn't stop you from coming everyday to see him, even if that meant he would only roll his eyes at you. at least it was something.

the cafe was filling up by the minute, luckily you came early in the morning. ricky walked in with gyuvin, and looked around for an empty table. after taking a glance around, they quickly realized there were none left expect from your table. “can we sit here? please!” gyuvin said in a sing-song voice. “yeah, come sit here.” you patted the seat next to you, signaling for gyuvin to come sit next to you. but instead of gyuvin who was supposed to be beside you, ricky snatched the seat before gyuvin could even walk to your side of the table. gyuvin looked at you with raised eyebrows, “me or ricky?” you weren’t sure who you wanted to sit next to you, but either way, you didn't mind. “i don’t mind you both, you guys can pick.” you left the option to them. “i wanna sit next to y/n.” ricky said, looking at gyuvin as though he should’ve known. “okay, okay.” gyuvin put his hands up like he committed a crime.

it was fate that you coincidentally brought a few strawberry candies with you today. you reached into your bag and fished for the pieces, and passed them to ricky. ricky took them from your hand without saying anything, and popped one into his mouth. like the investigator gyuvin was, he had to ask another question about you and ricky. “since when were you two so close?” he cocked his head to the side, crossed his legs and sat up straight as if he was ready to hear a story. in sync, you and ricky looked at each other and shrugged. you weren’t really sure why you and ricky had become more closer with each other, but it just happened with time. seeing one another became a daily routine, plus, you couldn’t escape each other by going to the same cafe everyday. you may as well gain a new friendship.

once ricky and gyuvin finished their business, they got up and started to pack away their stuff back into their bags. “bye y/n.” gyuvin said, walking away with ricky. “bye y/n!” ricky smiled and waved, looking back at you as he got dragged away by gyuvin. “what are you being so happy for?” you could hear gyuvin say as he left the store.

your small greetings with ricky grew into small talks, that turned into going out with each other outside of the cafe, which became to going to each other's houses. it was such a frequent occurrence that ricky spent more time with you than gyuvin.

“what’s up with you and ricky?” gyuvin plopped himself on your couch. gyuvin decided to invite himself over to your house and talk to you about ricky. “what d’you mean ‘me and ricky’?” you asked. “i mean you two are really close all of a sudden, i thought he hated you because of the whole coffee incident. i thought you hated him too, y’know? mutual hatred or something.” “i dont hate him, i mean, i did because he kept blaming me for the coffee but i don't anymore. he's really cute in a way, i guess i didn't expect it.” you admitted. “why?” “hes so… i dont know, he didn't fit that sort of image in the start.” “so you think he’s hot? and his personality was cute?” gyuvin said bluntly. “babe?” the voice came from your room. a messed up hair ricky came out of the room looking for you. once you saw him you quickly got up and ran to him, closing the door behind you two. you completely forgot your boyfriend was sleeping in the other room.

i felt like being in the principal's room. you and ricky sat next to each other, with gyuvin on the other side, asking question. “well, i suppose if he makes you happy, im happy. both of you.” even though gyuvin seemed happy, he was still sulking. “i'm still upset you guys kept it from me.” “it's not my fault, ricky wanted to keep it a secret.” you said, putting ricky on the spot. “i didn’t want gyuvin to tease me, it’s his fault.” ricky pointed at gyuvin, turning the whole situation into a who-did-it.

you giggled as you watched the two guys fight over who’s fault it was. gyuvin making huge movements to emphasize his point and ricky using his whiny voice to persuade you did nothing but make you love him even more. you wrapped your arms around ricky, giving him a small peck on the cheek. “ugh! not in front of me.” gyuvin gagged. ricky softly kissed you for good measure, or, to piss gyuvin off.

who would’ve known the guy you would look for everyday would become yours?

[letsgetbigger]

A Big Team

Part one

The university was gearing up for the start of a new football season. Their team hadn’t had good results in recent years, and the administration decided it was time for a drastic change. So, they invited Samuel Reeve, their most outstanding former star, to take the reins as the new coach. Samuel, 38, accepted the offer, leaving behind his monotonous office job and the small apartment he had rented for the past few years.

At 330 pounds, well distributed on a robust frame, Samuel was an imposing man. Despite having a round and prominent belly, his musculature was evident, reminding everyone of his glory days on the field. His attractive face didn’t go unnoticed either: piercing eyes, a chiseled jaw, and a confident smile. However, he harbored a very personal secret. He got turned on by making other men gain weight. And with his new role as coach, he saw the perfect opportunity to fulfill his most intimate desires without raising suspicion.

One Saturday morning, Samuel woke up in his new apartment on campus and dressed in his coaching uniform. He briefly admired his reflection in the mirror. The tight shirt accentuated his figure, giving him an unquestionable air of authority. It was a new beginning, and he was determined to make it memorable.

He left the apartment and took a deep breath. Walking confidently toward the stadium, he enjoyed the familiar atmosphere. The red brick buildings and wide tree-lined avenues reminded him of his days as a student and player, but now he was back with a different mission.

He arrived at the stadium and headed to his new office. He took a moment to observe the space. The walls were decorated with trophies and photos from his playing days, a clear testament to his legacy. The desk, though simple, was tidy and ready for the tasks ahead. But best of all, a door led directly to the locker room from his office, and if left open, he could even see the showers. The view from his chair gave him a strategic advantage. He would be able to observe the players without them noticing. Samuel smiled to himself, imagining the future. He didn’t just want to win games; he wanted to make his boys grow in a very particular way. He was eager to meet them and start implementing his plan.

Finally, the players started arriving at the locker room to change. The noise of conversations and laughter filled the room. There was a lively atmosphere. From his office, Samuel watched every detail with growing interest. The players undressed naturally, stripping off shirts, pants, and underwear before putting on their uniforms. Some were chubbier, and others were slimmer. However, three players caught his attention because they looked like Greek gods carved in stone.

The first one was Axel, a beefy blond with a beard. His muscles were impressive, each of them perfectly defined and visible even under the locker room’s dim lights. His nipples were large and pink. He wore boxers that comfortably hugged his glutes, enhancing his figure. As he undressed, his arms and torso tensed and relaxed with natural grace.

The second player was Marco, a Latino with dark skin and dazzling eyes. His thighs were wide and powerful, a clear display of his strength. Although what really stood out was the size of his penis, which seemed even larger when he took off his tight briefs to put on a jockstrap. Marco had an innate confidence, and moved with an ease and charisma that attracted all eyes.

The third one was Jamal, a young Black man with a perky butt that immediately drove Samuel crazy. Jamal also wore briefs. These accentuated his firm, rounded glutes. His body was a work of art, with defined muscles and shiny skin that reflected the light. When he bent over to pick something up or simply turned, his butt swayed provocatively. And he had a contagious laugh.

Samuel couldn’t take his eyes off them. Axel, Marco, and Jamal were the embodiment of physical perfection. He decided it was time to introduce himself. He got up from his chair, adjusted his uniform, and stepped out of the office.

As he entered the locker room, the noise quieted down, and all eyes turned to him. Samuel smiled, ready to get to work.

“Good morning, guys,” he said firmly. “I’m Mr Reeve, your new coach. I’m here to lead this team to victory. You need to gain strength, clearly, and to do that, you’ll need to put on some weight.”

A murmur ran through the room. Some players exchanged worried looks, while others frowned.

“Listen up,” he said, raising a hand to silence them. “You’ve lost nearly every game in recent years. I’m convinced that gaining weight and building muscle mass will change everything. To achieve this, you’ll not only continue training hard on the field and in the gym, but also follow a strict plan of meals and protein shakes I’ve prepared for you.”

Samuel handed out a sheet with detailed instructions. The protests began immediately. Some players looked at the papers in disbelief, others with evident annoyance.

“It’s too much,” Marco said, looking up from his sheet. “With all this, I’m going to get fat.”

Samuel looked at him intently, challenging him with his dark eyes.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked seriously, his voice echoing in the locker room. “I’m the best player this team has ever had. You shouldn’t question me. If you follow my instructions, we’ll win.”

The room fell silent. Marco, quiet, slowly nodded, accepting Samuel’s superiority and experience. The other players, seeing the determination in their new coach, began to review the plan with less resistance.

“And now, off to the field. Let’s see what you’ve got to offer.”

They stood up and left the locker room. As Samuel followed them outside, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of excitement. This was just the beginning, and he was determined to see his fantasies come true, pound by pound.

Part two

After a month of rigorous training and a high-calorie diet, the young athletes showed undeniable changes in their bodies. Without exception, they had each gained around 20 pounds. Samuel watched them from his office as they showered.

Marco stood with his back to the stream of water. His previously defined abdomen now had a slight layer of fat that softened his muscles. Marco’s long penis contrasted with the growing roundness of his belly. His already wide thighs had become even more imposing. And his pecs had grown as well.

Axel, meanwhile, was slowly lathering himself. His muscular torso had a bulkier appearance. His large pink nipples stood out even more on his firm chest, now slightly covered by a new layer of fat. His belly had begun to round, burying the lines of his abs. As he rinsed off the soap, his muscles and the added fat under his skin moved in harmony, giving him a chunky appearance.

Jamal, standing under one of the showers, was in profile, offering Samuel a privileged view of his perky butt, which had grown in size over the last month. His glutes remained firm but rounder, with an extra softness. His hips had widened slightly, and the definition of his muscles overall had mixed with the new fat.

Samuel couldn’t stop staring. The transformation of those physiques, the result of his meticulous plan, was exactly what he had hoped for. His cock hardened, an uncontrollable reaction to the spectacle before him. Sitting at his desk, he observed every detail, every new curve, every pound gained.

That week, they played their first game and, to everyone’s delight, won. The atmosphere in the stadium was of pure joy, and the players were ecstatic about their victory. After the game, Samuel was called to the dean’s office to discuss the team’s impressive performance. Following a brief conversation filled with praise, he returned to his own office with satisfaction.

Upon opening the door, he found a scene of wild celebration in the locker room. The players, freshly showered and in their underwear, were singing and jumping. The accumulated fat on their bodies over the last month bounced in increasingly tight underwear. Suddenly, one of the players grabbed Marco’s large package.

“Your girlfriend’s gonna be happy, huh?” he said with a mischievous grin.

Marco slapped the hand away, laughing along with the rest of the team. Another player approached Axel and, pinching his nipples playfully, exclaimed:

“Look at the tits this one’s got now!”

The laughter grew louder as Axel blushed slightly. Then the guy next to him poked his now-rounded belly.

“And what a gut!” he added.

Axel, maintaining his composure, replied:

“If I weren’t this big, I wouldn’t have tackled that aggressive player from the other team.”

The others nodded, acknowledging the truth in his words.

“Besides, what’s grown the most isn’t my gut, it’s this.”

He approached a distracted Jamal and slapped his butt. Jamal’s cheeks, squeezed into too-small briefs, jiggled like jelly. More players started doing the same, seeing the opportunity. They laughed non-stop. One of them even pulled down Jamal’s briefs, revealing his huge cheeks. The shouts and whistles were immediate.

Samuel, watching the scene from his office, felt a wave of desire he couldn’t control. He discreetly closed the door, ensuring no one saw him. The sight of his fattened players, their rippling flesh, and their uninhibited camaraderie turned him on. His hand slid into his briefs. The vision of Jamal’s perfect, exposed glutes, quickly brought him to climax. He felt an explosion of pleasure as he came inside his underwear, filling it with hot jizz.

The victories continued as his boys’ bodies expanded. After another couple of months, the changes in their physiques were even more pronounced. In the locker room, after another exhausting practice and shower, the players dried off with towels, showing the results of their special diet.

Jamal dried off slowly. His butt, always large, was now impressive. Its fat jiggled with each step. He still wore the same briefs, which stretched to their limit to contain his fat cheeks, leaving his butt crack exposed, a sight Samuel found irresistible. The elastic waistband dug into his flesh, highlighting his volume even more.

Axel dried his blonde beard. His torso had gained a noticeable amount of fat, softening the muscles beneath. His belly had rounded significantly, and his pecs, once hard and defined, now looked like small mounds of fat with pointy nipples that wiggled with every movement. As he tried to pull up his boxers, they struggled to contain his new size. The elastic waistband dug into his waist, and his glutes, though not as bulging as Jamal’s, were also partially exposed.

Marco stood in front of his locker, dropping his towel. His body showed a thick layer of fat. His round belly hung slightly, and his wide thighs rubbed together with each movement. His briefs were so tight they squeezed his big cock. And every time he moved, his butt bounced.

Samuel, watching from his office, noticed Marco’s head was down, an expression of sadness on his face. He decided to approach him to see what was wrong.

“Marco, what’s going on?” he asked.

Marco sighed and grabbed his large belly with both hands, shaking it. His tits and genitals moved with the jerks, a sight that made Samuel gulped.

“My girlfriend left me because of this,” Marco said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Samuel tried to maintain his composure as his heart raced.

“Listen, Marco. If she can’t see beyond the surface, then she doesn’t deserve you. You’re more than your appearance, and everyone here knows it.”

Marco nodded, but the sadness in his eyes didn’t entirely disappear. Samuel, feeling his control slipping, quickly retreated to his office. He closed the door behind him and looked down, confirming that pre-cum had stained his shorts.

At the next practice, Samuel watched proudly as his players wore the new, larger uniforms tailored to their new bodies. During a break, Jamal approached with a look of discomfort on his face.

“Coach, I’ve got a pain in my shoulder,” he said, rubbing the affected area.

Samuel, always ready to take care of his players, offered a physical therapy massage in his office, where he had a treatment table prepared. Jamal accepted, and they agreed to meet that afternoon.

When Jamal arrived at the office, he wore a tight t-shirt that highlighted the curve of his belly and jeans that fit snugly around his hips and thighs. The clothes emphasized his bulk and evidenced his size. Samuel welcomed him with a professional smile, though his mind was full of lustful thoughts.

“Let’s work on those tense muscles, Jamal. Take off your clothes and lie on the table.”

Jamal nodded and began to undress. First, he took off his t-shirt, revealing his rounded abdomen and large pecs with firm, dark nipples. Then he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down his sturdy legs, revealing thick, powerful thighs. He was left in a pair of newly purchased XL gray briefs that hugged his hips and butt provocatively.

He lay face down on the table, and Samuel got closer with a bottle of oil in hand. He poured some of the liquid into his palms and began massaging the tense shoulders, working with skill and firmness. As his hands moved, he couldn’t help but notice how Jamal’s enormous glutes swayed with the movement. Samuel’s eagerness intensified as he continued massaging. The sight of those big buttocks moving under the thin fabric of the underwear was overwhelming.

“I’m going to relieve the tension in your glutes too, Jamal. Relax.”

With a steady hand, he pulled the elastic waistband of Jamal’s briefs, lowering them with some difficulty. The smooth skin of his cheeks was exposed. It shone under the light with the oil Samuel applied directly from the bottle. Feeling the fat under his fingers for the first time was an incredible sensation. It provided a combination of firmness and softness he found very tempting. Jamal began uttering involuntary moans as he was being touched. They resonated in the room and in Samuel’s mind. Without stopping to fondle the sexiest player on the team, Samuel noticed his own excitement growing, his breathing becoming heavy. Jamal seemed increasingly affected by the physical contact. His moans grew louder and more intense until he finally let out a long shout and came, his body trembling with pleasure. Samuel stopped abruptly. Embarrassed and blushing, Jamal quickly got up, muttered a thank you while dressing hastily, and left the office.

Samuel remained in the room, contemplating what had happened. His mind revolved around one question: Was Jamal gay? And if he was, were there other players like him on the team? He was confident that, in time, he would discover the answer.

Part three

Christmas arrived and most of the team left campus. Axel and Jamal stayed. Axel, because he was an orphan, and Jamal, because his family had decided to take a trip and visit him.

One afternoon in late December, the coach took the opportunity to catch up on paperwork. He was in his office, with the door closed, when he heard noise coming from the locker room. He recognized the voices of Axel and Jamal. Intrigued, he turned off the light and cracked the door open just enough to remain unseen. From his position, he could see them. They had entered the shower. Axel was lathering himself up with slow, deliberate movements. His round, prominent belly shook slightly with each motion. Jamal, next to him, was also covered in soap. His large, full buttocks swayed gently as he scrubbed. Samuel noticed that both of them were semi-erect.

Suddenly, Axel and Jamal started touching themselves while looking at each other. Axel rubbed his pink nipples with his thumbs, opening his mouth with pleasure. Then he lifted and dropped his belly, making it bounce up and down with its weight. Jamal, with a lascivious smile, grabbed his breasts with his palms and fondled them. Then he turned around and slapped one buttock with a hand. The sound echoed in the space. With the other hand, he began to masturbate, his hard, shiny cock in his grasp. He slapped again. Axel seized his own cock and started masturbating as well, eyes fixed on Jamal. They panted and laughed, enjoying the moment. Finally, Axel and Jamal climaxed and ejaculated. The streams of jizz were lost down the drain.

Samuel couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He stayed still, waiting to see what else they would do. The pair, still breathing heavily, got dressed while chatting casually.

"Dude, the coach is so hot," said Axel, adjusting his shirt over his belly.

"Totally," said Jamal, struggling to pull up his pants, his rounded buttocks protruding. "I would love to be as big as him."

Axel nodded. His eyes shone with a mixture of admiration and desire.

"Imagine what it must feel like to have that body. Strong, sexy, and with such an impressive belly. It would be awesome."

Jamal smiled, visibly excited by the idea.

"Yeah, man. Well, with what we've been eating lately, I think we're on the right track."

They laughed together, complicit in their fantasy.

"Do you feel like having some pizza?" Axel suggested.

"Perfect. We need to keep growing, right?" Jamal responded.

They put on their shoes and left the locker room, discussing how much pizza they were going to eat. Samuel, who had heard every word, formed an idea in his head.

The next day, he took his phone and sent a message to Axel and Jamal, inviting them to spend New Year’s Eve at his apartment. Both accepted immediately. Beaming with enthusiasm, Samuel went to the supermarket and bought an entire cart of food. He wanted to make sure the evening was memorable.

He spent hours cooking, filling his apartment with the delicious aromas of his preparations. When Axel and Jamal arrived, Samuel greeted them with a smile and offered them a beer.

"To help you relax a bit," he said, sensing they were somewhat intimidated.

They grabbed the beers and settled on the couch. The three of them chatted for a while, laughter and anecdotes flowing easily as the alcohol took effect. The atmosphere became more relaxed. Samuel found them incredibly attractive. Axel, with his blond beard and bulk, looked like a true Viking. Jamal, with his dark skin and curves, was like an irresistible chocolate treat.

"Well, guys. Let’s go to the table," Samuel announced when he thought it was time.

Axel and Jamal followed him. They sat down. The coach served the starter: a huge plate of pasta. On the side, he put another plate with bread and a generous slab of butter for each of them.

"I want you to eat it all," he ordered, taking a seat next to them.

They exchanged a knowing look and started eating obediently. The coach led by example, eating heartily as well. The pasta was delicious. The players ate quickly at first but soon began to slow down.

"Come on, you can’t leave anything," he insisted. "And spread all the butter on the bread."

After finishing the pasta and the rest, Samuel got up to serve the second course. The roast turkey arrived at the table surrounded by a bunch of golden, greasy potatoes. And he gave them more bread and more butter.

"Here you go," he said, inwardly enjoying their perplexed faces.

With each new bite, Axel and Jamal felt their stomachs filling up. After finishing the turkey and potatoes, they were all stuffed.

"Well, we’ll have dessert on the couch," Samuel announced.

"Dessert?" they protested.

They headed to the couch with difficulty, their bellies swollen and heavy after the feast. Samuel followed, carrying an enormous chocolate cake.

"Unbutton your pants and get comfortable," he told them.

They obeyed. Samuel watched as their bellies expanded once freed from the pressure of their clothes. The two young men felt a mix of anticipation and nervousness as Samuel placed the cake in front of them.

"Axel, I want you to take a piece of cake and give it to Jamal. Tell him how fat he's going to get."

Axel cut a large piece of cake. He held it out to Jamal and, in a provocative voice, said:

"Jamal, you're going to get so fat with this... Eat it."

Jamal, whose eyes gleamed with desire, opened his mouth and let Axel feed him the piece of cake. He chewed slowly, relishing both the food and Axel's words.

"Now you, Jamal," Samuel said. "Give Axel a piece and tell him how fat he's going to get."

Jamal cut a generous piece of cake and brought it to Axel. Looking at him, he said:

"Axel, you're going to get so fat today... Open up."

Axel took the piece of cake with a mix of lust and delight, savoring not only the dessert, but also Jamal's words.

"I'm going to step out to give you more privacy," Samuel said with a wink. "When I come back, I don't want to see a single crumb."

He put on his coat and exited the apartment, leaving them alone with the cake.

He walked around the campus, enjoying the fresh air and the tranquility of the night. His thoughts wandered to what Axel and Jamal might be doing in his absence. Fantasy sometimes turned him on more than reality. After an hour of walking, he returned to his apartment, eager to see the result.

When he opened the door, he found a scene that exceeded his expectations. Axel and Jamal were reclined on the couch, naked. Their bodies seemed even more bloated, with chocolate-stained mouths and bellies about to burst. What fascinated him the most was seeing jizz on their chests. They had fallen deeply asleep, exhausted from the excess of food and pleasure.

Final part

The season was coming to an end and the university football team, under Samuel's supervision, had undergone a radical transformation. All the players had gained weight dramatically, ranging between 270 and 330 pounds. For Samuel, watching them on the field was an endless source of pride. Their bodies had become imposing masses of muscle and fat.

Marco, with his now more robust build, dominated the center of the field. His jersey stretched over his belly, and his butt, tightly packed into his uniform pants, seemed almost to overflow. Every time he ran, Samuel could see how his fat oscillated with the movement and how his thighs rubbed together.

Axel, whose transformation was perhaps the most noticeable, played with renewed ferocity. His wider and heavier body gave him an advantage in body-to-body clashes. His pecs, turned into true masses of flesh, shook with every impact. His enormous, round belly moved hypnotically under his jersey. Every time Axel hit the ground, Samuel beheld how the fat in his abdomen flattened and spread, showing the weight he had gained with Jamal's help.

Jamal, with the roundest and most prominent buttocks Samuel had ever seen, was a sight to behold on the field. His butt, miraculously covered by the tight uniform, moved like an independent mass from his body with each step. His thighs combined muscle and fat. When Jamal ran, Samuel couldn't help but stare at how his buttocks swayed from side to side, a true spectacle. Axel had also done a good job of feeding him.

As the players moved on the field, Samuel felt a surge of excitement. Although victory was important, for him, the true satisfaction lay in witnessing how they had transformed. Seeing those previously athletic young men become powerful masses of obesity under his tutelage was the culmination of his deepest fantasies. The team, which previously lost almost every game, now played with renewed strength and determination.

The final whistle blew and the team erupted in joy. Samuel joined them on the field, his heart pounding. He knew he had achieved something extraordinary.

The celebration after the victory was something else. The players, full of adrenaline and euphoria, headed straight to the locker room, where the showers awaited them. The atmosphere was electric, with shouts of happiness and laughter echoing off the walls.

Samuel stood at the entrance, watching as the players stripped off their sweat-soaked uniforms. Their heavy, robust bodies moved with contagious energy. Axel was the first to get completely naked, revealing his impressive figure, with his round belly and prominent pecs. He headed to the showers, closely followed by Jamal, whose buttocks swayed sensually with each step. Marco, with his hanging belly and voluminous butt, wasn't far behind.

The shower started with streams of hot water and uproar. The players pushed and splashed each other. Samuel, from a corner, watched them quietly. However, his serenity didn’t last long. Axel, with a mischievous smile, approached him.

"Come on, coach, it's time to join the celebration," Axel said.

And before Samuel could protest, Axel and Marco grabbed him by the arms.

"Hey, guys, what are you doing?" Samuel exclaimed as he tried to resist in vain.

The players, still laughing, began to undress the coach. Samuel let himself be carried away by them. First, they removed his shirt, revealing his impressive torso. His large pecs and round belly were exposed, prompting jokes among the players.

"Look at those muscles, coach!" Marco said, laughing.

Then, they took off his pants, lowered his boxers, and pushed him under the hot water.

Being completely naked, the coach found himself surrounded by his players in the shower. The hot water cascaded over their bodies, creating an atmosphere charged with arousal. Axel and Jamal took turns touching Samuel's belly, their hands sliding over his wet skin. Samuel felt completely liberated. The obese bodies of the players moved around him, bumping and rubbing against each other in a choreography of flesh and desire under the water.

[huicitawrites]

Diaries of the Priestess of The Malevolent Shrine

Yandere! Heian Sukuna x Fem! Reader tags: @a-tiny-teez @kazusan7yanderekun @eleventhdoctorsangel @sircatchungus warnings: yandere, “slow burn”, violence, death and torture, slavery

Diary Entry #?, The Harvest Festival

all entries

-It has been two years since you've become his priestess.

You sit on your knees, head bowed, the scarlet hakama folded perfectly beneath you, your pristine white kosode a mockery of the purity expected of a priestess.

What a joke, you think bitterly.

The being in front of you is far from holy—he is the devil incarnate, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses.

Hesitantly, you peel one eye open.

His huge, muscular form sits without a care for modesty, one knee raised, the other placed open, his four arms slouching around his body. His four bloodshot eyes hold no emotion, and his two-sided face remains blank. The harvest festival, so sacred to the people, means nothing to him. All that mattered was that he would be revered.

They would pray to him, treat him as a god, and with that thought, his ego was fed. His lips twisted into a smug smile.

You felt dirty despite your clean robes. After all, being his priestess meant serving his blasphemy.

His grin caught your attention, and your eyes were drawn to his face. But when his gaze locked with yours, you quickly looked away.

You heard a deep chuckle rumble through his broad chest.

You despised making eye contact with him. You couldn’t bear those crimson, bloodshot eyes. They were seared into your memory, a scar etched into your soul on that day.

The day your clan was massacred. In your weakness, you surrendered to his mercy and betrayed the legacy of your parents. You became his ‘priestess.’

A fancy title for a slave, nothing more—a pawn in the hands of the King of Curses who sought to be a god. A God of Chaos, a God of Suffering, a God of Carnage.

The drums began, a slow, steady thud that echoed through the temple halls, shaking you from your thoughts. The festival was starting. You remained kneeling beside Sukuna, just behind his massive form, your hands folded neatly in front of you. The beat of the drums reverberated in your chest, growing louder with each passing moment, as the priests below began their solemn procession.

They moved in tandem, their steps perfectly synchronized with the rhythm, white robes swaying like ghostly apparitions. Incense wafted into the air, thick and cloying, its sweet scent filling the temple as it curled upward to the dark rafters. You felt trapped beneath the weight of it all: the suffocating smoke, the oppressive atmosphere, and the sheer force of Sukuna’s cursed energy beside you.

The chanting began, a deep, guttural sound that filled the courtyard. Ancient words, meant to honor the gods, now twisted in purpose, directed at the devil sitting next to you. The villagers and priests alike believed this to be a sacred festival, a prayer for a prosperous harvest, but you knew the truth.

This was no prayer to the gods. This was a celebration of him, Ryomen Sukuna, so that he may be more willing to spare their lives. The villagers and priests would leave tonight, grateful just to have survived the day under his gaze.

You glanced at Sukuna again, careful not to meet his eyes this time. His expression was as indifferent as ever, his four eyes half-lidded in boredom. One arm rested lazily on his knee, while the others hung loosely by his sides. Uraume stood by his right side, ever faithful, the perfect servant.

The villagers knelt outside the temple, their foreheads pressed into the dirt, offering their fear and devotion in the only way they knew. None of them dared look up, too terrified of the consequences. Sukuna’s smirk grew, feeding off their terror, and you could feel the faint pulse of satisfaction that radiated from him. This festival—this display of submission—was nothing more than fuel for his inflated ego.

The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drums quickening, as the priests raised their hands in supplication. Before Sukuna, they laid baskets of rice, fruit, and incense.

You stood there, silent and still, your head slightly bowed in mock reverence.

But as the chanting reached a fevered pitch and the drumbeats pounded in your ears, you felt a shift in the air. The festival was only just beginning, and for some reason, your gut was screaming at you, warning you to not lower your guard.

Then, a figure emerged from the crowd. It was a half-naked woman—her kimono slipping from her shoulders and wide open. Her wild eyes locked onto Sukuna the moment she saw him, and something changed in her expression—a manic grin spread across her face, unrestrained and desperate.

“Yorozu-sama, wait!!” you heard a young voice plead.

But as you turned your face to comprehend just what in the heavens was going on, a venomous voice whispered in your ear, "Out of the way, bitch."

“From now on, I will be the one to stand by his side!” Yorozu’s voice rang out, high-pitched and gleeful.

And then it happened—a swift, brutal kick struck you in the side, sending you flying off the wooden altar. You gasped as the air was forced from your lungs, landing hard on the floor below. The gravel dug into your body as the world around you spun and blurred.

You winced, barely able to lift your head, blinking a few times as your vision recovered.

The sight of Sukuna made your stomach twist. He hadn’t moved, but his expression had changed—the casual indifference wiped away, replaced by a deep, disgusted frown. His eyes burned with fury, a heat that seethed and promised destruction.

Uraume stepped forward quickly. “How dare you,” they snarled, standing between Yorozu and their master. Their voice was cold and sharp, the tension palpable. They wouldn’t allow such disrespect to stand.

Yorozu, however, ignored Uraume entirely. She didn’t even look at them, her eyes only for Sukuna, her fixation unwavering. She was completely enamored, her entire focus on him and no one else. Uraume’s presence meant no threat to her.

You groaned and coughed, your chest heaving with each breath. The pain was sharp, but you could feel a servant’s hands on you, lifting you gently, trying to help you sit upright. You leaned into their support, struggling to regain control over your breathing.

The servant whispered in your ear, their hands delicate and soft as they tried to calm you. “Forgive my lady's actions, please, stay still. You’re hurt.”

Yet your focus—no, all eyes—were on the woman standing in front of Sukuna, her half-naked form still and eerily focused. Yorozu, crazed and delirious with adoration, stood as if she had discovered something divine.

"Sukuna…!" the mad woman praised, her voice shaking with reverence. "You are magnificent! Seeing you in the flesh—" Yorozu took a step closer, eyes bright with infatuation. Her words of praise drowned in the background noise of hushed whispers as you felt the gentle hands from before pat your shoulders.

You turned to the servant holding you, and your eyes widened in fear. It was a boy, surely no more than ten. Your eyes jumped from the child to Yorozu and then to Sukuna. Back and forth, you repeated this pattern.

“You look… lonely. I can feel it. Allow me to be the one to cure your loneliness! Let us turn this world into a cursed chaos—

Amidst her blabbering, the realization befell you, and as the boy tried to lift you up, your hands twisted the fabric of his yukata.

"Run. Flee at once!"

"Miss, you need to calm down! I need to take you to the healers—"

-a world fit for the King of Curses! A world where—”

“Shut up.”

Sukuna’s deep voice cut through Yorozu's words with finality, cold and disdain. Before she could react, Sukuna moved.

With barely a flick of his wrist, he unleashed his cursed technique, faster than a heartbeat. An invisible slash of cursed energy sliced through the air, clean and precise. Yorozu’s words choked into a sharp gasp, her eyes still lovesick and lidded as her body crumpled to the ground, lifeless in an instant.

The priests and villagers cowered, their terrified murmurs drowned out by the overwhelming pressure of Sukuna’s presence. Blood splattered the gravel floor beneath her, pooling around her as if her life had never mattered. Silence hung heavy once more.

Your breath hitched as you tried to stand up and move the shocked child away. The pain in your chest flared up again, making you struggle against your coughs. But before you could get away with the child in hand, a shadow loomed over both of you.

In one swift motion, you felt yourself being lifted off the ground, strong hands wrapping around you, pulling you up effortlessly. Your body was pressed against Sukuna’s massive form, his cursed energy suffocating as it crackled in the air.

You heard a thud behind you and turned your head sharply to assess the child's well-being.

Yet two of his arms held you firmly, immobilizing you. One hand gripped your waist, the other snatched your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Look at me,” he commanded. His crimson eyes inspecting every detail of your face. “Are you hurt?” he asked calmly.

Your heart raced, panic flaring as the blood from Yorozu pooled around the gravel. “The boy—please, he’s just—”

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed and his grip tightened, “Pay attention to me,” he said, his voice a dangerous command “Answer me—are you hurt?”

The words barely escaped your lips. “I—I’m fine, my Lord,” you stammered, feeling utterly vulnerable within his caging arms.

Satisfied for the moment, Sukuna turned his attention back to the villagers, who now knelt in terror, prayers spilling from their lips, frantic and desperate. His voice dripped with dark amusement, the very embodiment of menace. “Quite the rude hosts, don’t you think?” he remarked, his eyes gleaming with malice. “They seem to have forgotten their place.”

As he raised his spear, glimmering ominously in the dim light, the air turned thick with tension. You could feel it before it happened—a wave of pure, unfiltered chaos. Carnage ensued.

Screams erupted as Sukuna cut through flesh and bone, a whirlwind of death and destruction. The villagers, once fervent in their prayers, now fled in terror, but there was nowhere to hide from the King of Curses. They fell around you, bodies littering the ground like discarded offerings.

Pinned in his grip, your eyes were shut but you were forced to withstand the sounds of the massacre. Sukuna’s eyes gleamed with a primal excitement, the thrill of slaughter igniting a fire within him that was terrifying. Each swipe of his weapon, each agonized scream, only served to fuel his insatiable bloodlust.

“Such chaos… it’s intoxicating,” he mused, his voice laced with a dark satisfaction that sent chills down your spine.

As the last echoes of terror faded into silence, Sukuna’s gaze turned back to you, his grip still firm around your waist. His eyes darkened, holding a predatory intensity that made your heart race.

With a twisted smirk curling his lips, he leaned closer, the scent of blood and incense clinging to him. “Consider this a reminder,” he murmured, voice low and chilling, the warmth of his breath grazing your skin. “You belong by my side, and nowhere else.”

"Uraume", he called out and the cursed-ice user made no haste to come close and kneel, "Let's go."

"Yes, Sukuna-sama"

And so, as he carried you away and Uraume left in tow, your eyes desperately secanned for any hint of survivors, but you only found a torn piece of that poor, innocent boy's yukata on the pools of blood.

[star-clip]

She's Cheer Captain, And I'm on The Bleachers

A/N: This is yandere!cheerleader's introduction. Also, the first introduction I'm making. Enjoy!💕

Summary: Having no motivation what so over is an artist's greatest enemy. But when your eyes land on such a beautiful girl, how could you resist the urge to capture her beauty on paper?

CW: None really, Fluff, obsessive behaviour (towards the end), Yandere, inaccurate writing of art majors

Word count: 1.6k (not proofread)

First days are never fun in any situation. Whether your first day at school, work, or whatever else, you're bound to feel uncomfortable and out of place. This time, it happens to be the former. Your first day at your new university after transferring from your previous one due to... issues. The massive brown walls were anything but welcoming. They made you feel small, insignificant. Begrudgingly, you enter. As soon as you do, you're greeted by crowds of students chatting, laughing, and wandering around. Some are wearing varsity jackets. So those are the athletes. You think to yourself. This school did have a football team. You shake your head, reminding yourself of your current objective: Find your class.

Now. You definitely could just ask one of the students for help in finding your classroom. But you feel like you'd rather die than ask a complete stranger for help. You can figure it out on your own. It's not like you're searching for life on Mars, so it shouldn't be that difficult. You take a step forward, looking down at the schedule in your hand. Your class is on the ground floor, thankfully. That means you won't have to travel very far. As you walk around, you can't help but notice how much more lively the students here are compared to your old uni. The upbeat atmosphere sure as he'll beat the gloomy air that paraded around the halls of your previous school. Distracted with your surroundings, you almost miss your classroom, but thankfully, you were able to backtrack just in time. You placed your hand on the door handle before taking a deep breath and entering. The lecture hall wasn't full, but it had no shortage of students either. The professor was still setting up something on his computer, which meant you had gotten their early. You sighed in relief before taking a seat at the back of the class.

You listen intently as the professor talks. Jotting down notes as you go along. By the end of the lecture, you're given an assignment: Draw a detailed sketch of anything of your choosing using only one shape. It wasn't the assignment itself that was difficult. But rather, coming up with an idea. What to draw?

Maybe a landscape? Or a building? Or... a bowl of fruit? God, this is so hard! You huffed in frustration. Without even realising it, you had walked over to the football stadium. You collapsed onto one of the chairs, head slouched on the back of the chair. You stare at the sky for a few minutes before pulling your head up and looking down at the field. That's when you spot the cheerleaders, dressed in green and white crop tops and miniskirts. You assumed they were practising one of their cheers. Your eyes scanned across the whole team before landing on a specific girl. Probably the most gorgeous girl you had ever seen.

The sun shone bright on her dark, silky hair that was tied up into a ponytail. Her cheer outfit hugged her figure perfectly, the contrast between the bulging green and her dark skin was impossible to miss. The way her eyelashes fluttered so softly as she blinked. She looked divine.

Without even thinking, you pulled out your sketchbook and began mindlessly sketching portraits of the girl before you. Some were pretty rough, others were neat and clean, but all featured the same dark-haired girl.

As Nora turned her head towards the stands, she spotted an unfamiliar face sitting down, writing or drawing something on a notebook. She tilted her head, her eyes squinting as she tried to see if she recognised the person, but her mind came up blank. Maybe they're new?. A smile spread across her face as curiosity got the better of her. She slowly approached the stands, ignoring the protests of her teammates. She walked over confidently, no stumbling in her steps as she stared at the mysterious person opposite her. She stopped directly in front of your, waiting for you to look up at her, but you didn't.

"Ahem!" She cleared her throat loud enough for you to hear. You jolted back as you lifted your head to see the source of the noise, making your sketchbook and pencil fall off your lap. Before you could say anything, she giggled softly before talking. "Hey! I haven't seen you around before, are you new here?" Her voice was cheerful as she swayed from side to side, looking down at you, patiently awaiting your response. You manage to compose yourself somewhat and answer her. "Uh, yeah, I am."

There was a long silence. You tilt your head at her in confusion. Is she waiting for something? "Aren't you gonna tell me your name?" The proverbial bulb on your head lit up when you realised your mistake. Right. You're supposed to say your name when meeting people. Feeling your face heat up slightly, you finally answer her. "Right. Sorry. I'm Y/N." "Nice to meet you. I'm Nora!" She quickly stretched out a straight arm your way, her open palm ready for yours. You hesitated a bit before taking her hand. Her grip was tight, not painful, but felt as confident as she seemed. You let go of her hand a few seconds later, placing your own on your lap, fidgeting slightly with your fingers. Your pupils searched around as your mind scrambled for something to say. Thankfully, Nora came to your rescue. She bent down in front of you and picked up the sketchbook you had dropped. Damn, you completely forgot about it. She hands it back to you, and you mumble out a small thanks in response.

She sits down a little too close for comfort on the chair near yours. You shift your body away slightly, which doesn't surprise her. She's used to people feeling nervous around her, but for some reason, she feels a bit of disappointment at your distant behaviour. She doesn't let it show, though. Instead, she opts to start a new conversation topic.

"Were you drawing just now?"

"Yeah"

"Oh, are you an art major?"

"Mhm"

"I heard from a friend there that there was someone new who sat next to him."

"Oh. Interesting"

...

It's not that you didn't want to talk, it's that you didn't know how to respond to simple yes or no questions like these with anything other than yes or no. You both sit in silence for a while until Nora asks a question that you were hoping she wouldn't.

"So what were you drawing?"

Your eyes widened as her cheery voice entered your ears.

"Uhh..Well..you know..just....things.."

She tilts her head at you.

"Things?"

"Yeah. Just whatever struck inspiration"

"Well can I see–"

"NO!"

You shouted as you hugged your sketchbook to your chest. She flinched back, her face painted with shock. Your grip on the notebook weakens as you try to calm yourself down. You avoid eye contact with her dark brown eyes. "Sorry..I didn't mean to yell. I just" you stumbled as you tried to find a way to explain your actions without exposing what you were trying to hide.

"No, it's fine! You don't have to show it to me. I was just a bit curious. I feel like your drawings would look really beautiful." Her smile could be used to light up an abandoned ruin. How could someone be so...radiant?

You take a moment to think before sighing. You open up your sketchbook to the page you were on before and hand it to her without looking. Once she takes it from tou, you turn around, you back facing her. Her eyes scanned the various sketched of her that consumed the page. Ones of her face, others of her standing or practicing. Her heart started racing. They're...amazing. Being as popular as she was, she was used to admirers drawing her. But this was different. She felt as if she could truly see herself in your art. While others focused on exactly what they saw in front of them, you drew her. Not just what she looked like.

"Wow"

You braced yourself to be called a creep or a stalker.

"These are..."

God. It was your first day and rumors about you being a gross freak are already gonna start appearing

"Gorgeous"

There it is. The phrase you've been dre–what?

"You're so talented! Why were you so scared to show me earlier?" She placed a hand on your shoulder, signalling for you to turn back and face her, so you do. Not face her, but you do turn around. "You..you like them?" "Of course I do! They're so we'll done!" With how excited and giddy she is, you'd think you showed her an award-winning invention.

"Thanks. I thought you would think I was a creep for drawing you." You say, shyly. "I know creepy. Trust me. And this isn't it. This is just..hm, what's the word?" She ponders a fitting word, to which you decide to help her "Admiration?" She looks at you with eyes widened. Was that not the word? Does she think your word now?

"Finishing my sentences already, Y/N? How forward." You don't miss the hint of playfulness in her tone. "That's not what I–! Whatever" she laughs at your frustrated, half explanation. She glances at the drawing one last time before turning to look at you.

You.

You understood her. The first to be able to do so. She just met you, but it's like she's known you for years. You aren't trying too hard to impress her. You were just...you. This must mean something. Nobody does all this and doesn't mean it. Nobody can act that way to everyone. Nobody..Nobody...

Nobody else can have you.

[just-jordie-things]

need ino to be the golden retriever boyfriend to my black cat girlfriend soooo bad ughhh i could just eat him

-🫧

(might've self projected too much but my god i love this)

omfg going out with ino when he's in his baggy clothes and a beanie (lowkey loser bf fit but in a cute way!!)

and you're decked out in layers of black, heavy makeup and platform docs... the two of you definitely turn some heads but my god you both love it

ino WORSHIPS his black cat gf. he's always finding a new trinket for you- spider decor... blood red pendants... dark colored nail polishes... if you have piercings he loves to pick out new jewelry for them!! he laces up your boots/corsets, handles all the little clasps of your necklaces and bracelets, and is eager to tell you that your eyeliner is perfectly even!!

(although, your lipstick might be a little messed up because he can't help but kiss the pretty color until it stains his mouth too hehe)

and oh my do you love your golden retriever bf. you love the bright colors he mixes and matches, the familiarity of his worn converse that he'll refuse to replace until the holes render them unwearable, the bright smile and dorky but fun atmosphere he brings to every space he steps into.

you're always grabbing his beanie and pulling it over his face when his staring gets you feeling too bashful- but you sort of like the way he takes it off to tousle his hair before covering it up again, so sometimes you might mess with the hat just to witness the sight. you love his skater boy sense of style and think no one pulls it off quite like him!! that said... you might convince him to get piercing or two... ino with an eyebrow piercing or snake bites.... yum

you're an iconic duo and everyone who sees you together knows it!!

[redtsundere-writes]

Would you consider continuing sukunaxservant? I’m in love with that au 💗💗💗

🥺👉👈 I beg

Hiya! Since you guys and Wattpad ate up my King!Sukuna x Servant!Reader one-shots, I decided to turn it into a series on Wattpad and AO3!

The first 4 one-shots (Ear Cleaning, Ribs, Blood Bath and Eyes on Me) will be included, but they'll be longer and better. So if you like any of those caught your attention, please check out the full version :) Thank you for the support!

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

PICK YOUR FAVORITE!

AO3 or Wattpad?

CHAPTER 1 PREVIEW! ↆ

Sukuna walked through the corridors illuminated by the dark sun that ruled among the kingdoms. His long, heavy footsteps made the marble floor rumble under his weight. His sharp profile, tattooed shoulders and large body, contrasted by the reddish sky of the cursed land, terrifying any small human who encountered him. He was a king who could control anything thanks to the terror that his large body and absolute power conveyed. He had the power on his hands to kill whatever and whenever he wanted like an omnipotent god, but he liked to watch his rats run from one side to the other to obey his mercy. It amused him to play with his servants to the point of making them cry, tremble or, in extreme cases, commit suicide. He had plenty of servants, so he could afford to kill as many as he wanted. The poor uniformed humans trembled if his dark eyes rested on them. They all tried to dodge him at all costs to avoid performing tasks that involved being near him, especially cleaning his ears. 

Being a monster with senses sharpened to the max, he hated having his ears touched, but it was necessary for him to clean them to have his five senses ready for any battle. He is not someone ticklish, but his ears are the most sensitive part of his entire body. He could clean his own ears himself, but what kind of almighty, omnipotent king would clean his own ears when others could do it?

His eyes navigated through the long and endless corridors of the terrifying castle where he lived with all his subjects. The king's home was a place where darkness, cold, and uncertainty dominated the atmosphere. Even though it was surrounded by luxuries, it felt more like a secret attic than a castle fit for a king. Silver chandeliers, red candles parading on the walls and furniture upholstered with exotic fabrics from around the world decorated each room that was commonly surrounded by portraits made by hundreds of artists who feared for their lives. 

His predatory eyes sought out the first poor servant that crossed his path. He heard the bristles of a broom being scrubbed against the floor. Sukuna spotted a small figure sweeping one of the guest rooms. There you were, humming a song softly from your childhood as you made the broom dance from side to side. You were so focused on your task that you didn't notice the king standing dangerously close to you. As you turned around, you suddenly bumped into his imposing body, giving you a mini heart attack. Dressed in elegant robes, gold rings on each finger and with a wicked grin on his face, he was looking at you as if you were a despicable creature he could get rid of in the blink of an eye. 

You are the youngest and most inexperienced servant in the entire castle. You had not been living there for more than two months, so your direct interactions with the king had been few. Sukuna saw you from head to toe. He remembered you perfectly from the day he met you. Your neatly combed pigtails with two white bows showed off your innocence, the corset accentuated your small waist and the long brown skirt covered your promising legs. He accepted it, you were cute. Other than that, you were a disgusting human like everyone else, but there was something about you that caught his attention. Sukuna didn't know exactly what it was that you had. For the time being, he would continue to treat you as you deserved for being a nasty rat. Immediately, you knelt before your majesty. Your head rested in your hands against the freshly swept floor, your fingers barely touching his feet because of the closeness. 

“Are you having fun?” Sukuna asked, sarcastic. 

“No, my king,” you answered quickly, avoiding making eye contact. 

Sukuna placed one of his bare feet on your back. The oppressive weight crushed you against the cold floor. You prayed inwardly that your bones wouldn't start to creak. You bit your lower lip and closed your eyes tightly to avoid letting out a moan of pain. Having satisfied his need to make the new maid see who her master is, he removed his foot from your agonized back. You took a deep breath to fill your lungs with air again. 

“To my room. Now,” he ordered without deigning to look at you before leaving the room. You remained on the floor, slowly catching your breath. A metal taste touched your tongue. You bit your lower lip so hard what it was bleeding.

FULL CHAPTER ON WATTPAD / AO3!

[coralseacourt]

Undeniably Yours Part 2 by @coralseacourt

Summery: A girl falling through darkness into a world of fae, landing right in Hybern’ s Throne room. Azriel finding his mate but not wanting her. Rhysand’s & feyre’s bond severed for good. What else could go wrong? Azriel x Reader x Rhysand

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part6, Part7,

Part 2:

Voices. I had been sitting in this room for the last two days , since the huge winged creature with the shadows had dropped me off here.

His eyes had been like steel.

His hands had been ice cold.

He had bled and seemed in pain. But with no word and no explanation, he had put me in this room with the bright pastel colors and since then nothing .

And I felt .Numb.

No one tried to disturb me until now. I could hear their voices on the other side of my door.

Would they come in or continue arguing and then leave like they did the last couple days?

The noise of a soft knock ripped me out of my trance. The door started opening and I leaned my head slightly to the side. Owl like. My body didn’t feel human anymore.

Everything just felt mechanic.

A tall man with black hair and violet eyes entered.

Beautiful.

The leader of this group I had guessed. He looked at me with soft eyes giving me a kind smile.

But was it real?

“Good evening. I did not want to disturb you, but it is important that I talk to you. Get more,” he paused “ information about you.”

The only thing I could do was blink. My head felt empty like the black water I was thrown out of.

“ I know it must be difficult for you to understand what happened.” He continued ,” But maybe we could start with your Name?”

I wrinkled my forehead in confusion.

My name? What was my Name? Did I had one? I just shook my head . Not knowing what to say. “ My name is Rhysand, but you can call me Rhys if you like. “

With quiet steps he came closer to the little window seat I was sitting in and bend down on his knees in front of me .

“If you are not able to talk, or don’t want to , would you allow me to look in your memories?”

My memories? What did he mean? In my head? Was that possible? I gave him a little nod.

Curious to see what would happen. Would he be able to find out my Name? Would I have memories?

His eyes were a little brighter now like deep purple pools of starlight.

He gave me a little reassuring smile before I could feel something crawling or more floating in my head like black smoke curios but pushing to the same time.

I watched his facial expression go from neutral to confused. What did he see?

“Interesting.”

Confusion changed to Concentration, and I couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful inhuman face.

To perfect.

Nothing that was not sculpted by the gods. It made me uncomfortable for the soley reason that humans had uneven skin.

Pores ,beauty marks,scars but him?

Nothing.

Humans? How did I know about this but not my name?

Am I a human?

No. I don’t think so . Earlier in the Morning when I had washed myself in the attached bathroom I looked like him.

My blond long hair perfectly curling over my back. Not one single curl out of order . My eyes green with golden flecks that seemed to colorful, to bright, to alive. And my ears sharply shaped.

“Well, not much to be seen . But at least we have a name.” He said with a little chuckle. I looked at him expectantly.

“y/n. It’s a pretty name too. I’ve never heard a name like that.” Y/n that was what I was called ? It seemed to fit like a missing puzzle piece. I turned my face from his curious eyes and stared out the window.

Beneath me a city with thousands of bright lights and a warm atmosphere. I opened my mouth a bit running my tongue over my bottom lip.

“y/n” I tested it slowly out . My voice surprised me. Very high so feminine and inhuman. A little chuckle made me look back to the man in front of me.

“We have Dinner in a little bit if you like to join us?” Should I? He seemed nice enough. So I nodded.

“Yes.” I whispered to quietly for him to hear, not used to my voice.

“Yes, I … I would like that Rhysand.” I gave him a shy smile not sure if I said his name correct.

“Rhys, just call me Rhys. “ he stared a couple more moments fascinated at me before he stood up and walked out. In the time that the door had completely closed a sudden wind blew through the room and made me look in the direction of my bed where a beautiful dark green dress laid, like it always had been there.

………………….}••••••••••••••••••••{…………………

I was standing in front of the Mirror.

Starring.

The green dress was fitting perfectly.

It was long and tight with small stripes over my shoulders.

I swirled just watching the color shift and float until there was a knock.

“Yes?” The door swung open with to much force and my heart started to race.

The winged man was standing there with an unpleasant expression on his face, like he tasted something he didn’t like.

“Are you coming?” He hissed at me. My palms started to sweat and I left a shaky breath while nodding.

“Of course.” I whispered quietly and followed him out of the room.

We walked with a fast pace I almost couldn’t follow through a long hallway made out of white marble with long windows .

It lead into an open space with a large Table that was occupied by 5 people one of them I recognized as Rhysand. My stomach felt sick from so much attention on me.

The male that had brought me here sat down next to a beautiful girl with flowers in her hair, while I stopped at the end of the Table.

What should I do?

There were two seats open. Next to Rhysand and on the other side next to the unfriendly winged one.

With shaking hands I took the safer option and walked towards Rhys sitting myself quietly on the chair without looking up.

A low groan came from the other side.

To see if I did something wrong I looked up, but got distracted by the kind male next to me, when he spoke up.

“Good choice y/n .” He chuckled and had a glow in his eyes.

“Really Rhys? You’re confusing the poor girl with your flirting.” Came from a blond woman seated next to me.

“Am I not allowed to flirt a little? I m the High lord am I not?”

“Not when your Mate is stuck in enemy territory.” Came from a sharp tongue.

Probably the Sister of the flower girl. The similarities where unarguably there.

“You should be trying to get her back and not make pretty eyes to someone that is a stranger to us.”

Shame came over me and my face flushed.

I couldn’t understand why she would fire so vial words about me.

Did I choose to be here? But asking myself that question I couldn’t even answer it.

“Nesta if you can’t behave in front of our guest you’re welcome to leave.”

The huge man sitting next to Nesta seemed uncomfortable with the conversation pushing around on the chair like he rather would flee.

“y/n this is my inner circle. Elaine” he pointed to the girl with the flowers on his other side.

“Azriel my spymaster “ the angry looking one and what was a spymaster?

My head leaned automatically to the side and I stared at him curiously.

“Nesta and Cassian “ the angry girl and the male next to her.

“ And Mor my cousin.” The blond next to me gave me a reassuring smile.

“Let’s eat before we discuss more.”

And with just a wave of his hand delicious looking food appeared in front of us.

With big eyes i watched while everyone started pouring food on their dishes.

Rhys grabbed my plate and shuffled food on it while I only could watch him.

A little “oh” escaped my lips and all eyes turned to their High lord watching him with confused facial expressions.

Until a growl came from across the table.

I looked over at Azriel his hands formed to fists his teeth bleched while watching Rhysand.

“I’m sure she can do that on her own, don’t you think .” Why was he so angry ?

“Yes I m sure she can . But why not be nice to someone that didn’t get a lot of kindness since entering a such brutal world?”

That left a couple open mouths and my plate appeared back in front of me loaded with mashed potatoes, green beans, gravy and Roast beef?

“Thank you, I really appreciate the gesture.” I whispered quietly and started eating.

A snort came followed by a

“You have to give her that , at least she is polite.” Came from Cassian. the rest of the Dinner was uneventful.

I only listened to the quiet conversation of everyone.

When all the plates magically disappeared and everyone started to pour themselves drinks.

That’s when I felt a hand grab mine and squeeze it a little bit. Looking up I saw Mor starring at me.

“Do you like shopping? We could go one Day if you like? I know some wonderful boutiques here in velaris.”

I had to blink. Shopping? Would I be allowed to do that?

And if? How would I pay for anything? as if Rhysand read my mind he said.

“That sounds like a blended idea. And no worries you can put it on my name for now.”

“ That is very kind of you to offer I….. I will think about it.”

“You should. We would have a lot of fun , I promise.” She gave me a little wink and took a sip of her wine. I felt uncomfortable with so many people in one room that I didn’t know.

It made my heart race and my stomach flutter. Would now be a appropriate time to flee?

“Do you want me to accompany you to your room or do you find your way alone?” The high lord whispered over to me like we were sharing a secret.

I couldn’t help it and had to giggle.

“I do not want them to torment you for it.” I whispered back. “But thank you for asking.”

He gave me a nod and his eyes twinkled in the reflection of his wine glass.

I silently slipped out of my seat wished everyone a good night and disappeared as fast as I could in direction of my Room.

Before I could reach it Azriel appeared out of nowhere right in front of me, so silently i had to squeak loudly.

With my hand on my racing heart I stared at him. “I m giving you a little warning Blondie, what you do with it is up to you. Stay away from Rhys. Whatever you are planning in that little head of yours , stop it,”

He stepped closer to me until our chests almost touched. Bending down to be on eye level with me he whispered dangerously.

” It’s in your best interest to heave my warning, no one can just snake there way inside of our court like that.”

And with that he disappeared back in to the shadows.

part 1 , part 2, part 3, part 4, part5, part6, part7,

[dawn-moths]

*set in my cerulean gaze au.

Rain pattered against the windowpane, drumming out a violent rhythm as each fresh wave of the storm was slammed against the glass, tempest winds whipping a thick curtain of fat droplets across the cityscape for the fifth day in a row now.

The worst part was how, despite the storm, the temperature had actually remained consistently warm these past few days, the first taste of the approaching spring settling slowly over the atmosphere like a fawn carefully tucking its long, spindly limbs beneath it to rest over a patch of lush grass.

You couldn’t stand it, being trapped inside for so long, and you and Touya had watched nearly every movie you could think of, even binged a season or two of a tv show you’d been meaning to get around to, and finished your most recent book, unable to make it to the bookstore with the roads as flooded as they were to pick up a new one.

And that was before the power went out.

That had happened a day and a half ago, the city officially entering a state of emergency with a widespread outage that wouldn’t even begin to be able to be resolved until the harsh winds and unrelenting showers died down, which wasn’t forecasted to cease for another two days.

At least you were with Touya, you thought, everything felt easier when you two were together. 

Currently, the entire kitchen and living room area was filled with candles burning to chase away the darkness that loomed just as heavy and ominous as the storm, every board and card game you’d brought over from your grandparents house when you’d first moved in together littered across the living room floor and coffee table where you were currently in the middle of about three different games, some of which you’d made up by combining various pieces and boards from your collection.

And when worse came to worst and the boredom and restlessness became too much, you and Touya would just curl up on the couch under a blanket and nap, forgetting all about the storm and the way it still had a habit of scaring you, even if just for a little while. But each time you felt the apartment complex creak and groan as it fought to stay standing against a vengeful gust you would flinch or tense slightly, Touya feeling anxiety creeping over your form even as you lay there safe in his arms.

“Hey…” he muttered, sounding half asleep, raspy voice low and soothing. “It’s ok, I’m here…” Slowly rubbing a big, warm hand up and down your thigh, he attempted to calm you. “I promise we’ll be fine as long as we stay inside. Only another day or two and it should all be over, ok?”

You shifted to face him, lying chest to chest now and nuzzling in closer to breathe in his familiar, comforting scent as he gently pulled you closer, smoothing a palm down the back of your hair.

You knew it would be over soon. Rain or shine, nothing lasts forever. But that didn’t take away from the fact that this type of weather still scared you, some deep childhood fear that you just couldn’t seem to abandon.

At least there wasn’t any thunder and lightning though. That would’ve just made things all the more worse.

A little while later, as you were nearly drifting off to sleep yourself, you heard Touya mutter, “Remember that day when you came by the old condo and it just started downpouring out of nowhere?” There was something soft and dreamlike to his tone, a certain kind of fondness-in-hindsight veiling a memory that, in reality, had not been entirely as sweet. “It was around the time we first met. God, you were soaked…” He sighed out a breathy chuckle, still able to picture you as you had been back then perfectly in his mind. Tank top. Sweatpants. Stunning no matter what you wore.

You turned your face up towards his, blinking open bleary eyes, and grinning as you recalled, “Yeah, and you let me borrow your clothes. And we were watching that movie but then the power went out.”

“So I got a candle,” he continued, glad that you remembered it too.

“And we ate Chinese food,” you giggled, reliving the parts of that day you still held so dear.

Touya’s smile widened. “And you told me that story about that roommate you hated.”

“Oh my god, you even remember that?” you said, surprised. Even you’d forgotten that detail, until now.

“Of course,” he admitted, as if it would be ridiculous to assume he’d let such a benign anecdote slip his mind. And then, with something a little more teasing lilting through his tone, “And that night you slept in my bed for the first time…”

“Yeah…” you confirmed, drowsy but delighted, returning to where you’d been nuzzling close into his chest, exhaling a slow, even breath. “I did.”

Sometimes, that chapter of your relationship— of your life— still felt like an entirely different reality. Like it had happened to someone else and you’d only ever heard an extremely detailed retelling of it, not actually experienced it yourself. You tried to only focus on the good parts of your beginning together. There had been far too much bad, some pieces of it still haunting you unexpectedly, whether as you went about your day or late at night in your dreams where you couldn’t escape unless Touya shook you awake and reminded you that you were ok, that you were safe, that he was there to protect you until you believed him.

And though you loved Touya more than anything or anyone in the entire world, you never tricked yourself into believing it had all been worth it. What you’d both been forced to endure and survive back then had been nothing short of a traumatic nightmare and there was no amount of optimism or romanticizing that could change that. But in those lighter moments, the times you’d shared laughs and traded griefs and learned to trust each other…

Those were the times that made what you’d been through— what you still sometimes had to relive— a little easier to bear, at least.

“Seems like it was just yesterday…” Touya murmured, adjusting his position around you so you could both be comfortable and letting his eyes fall closed once more.

And yet, you thought, drifting off to sleep, also like an eternity ago.

***

Half a day earlier than expected, the rain finally calmed to a steady drizzle. The roads were still flooded in most places and the power had yet to be fully restored, but the worst of the storm was over and you and Touya could at least make a run to the nearest convenience store for some provisions on foot. The sun was still too shy to break through the clouds but some semblance of dulled, grey daylight was perceivable through the afternoon hours, at least.

You and Touya walked arm in arm, him carrying your transparent bubble umbrella over both of your heads to and from the store, happy to see your mood having lifted a little with the excitement to share the snacks you were carrying in the plastic bags printed with bold red THANK YOU’s down the front.

The walk from the store at the corner and back to the complex was a short one. Ten minutes, tops, and on a nice day, the two of you might even take a detour through the park that sprawled for a few miles across the street. Even with the rain, you were kind of curious to take a quick loop through, survey the damage of the fallen trees and overflowing ponds, but due to those reasons the park was currently closed.

Touya then noticed a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing,” You said, attempting to conceal your worry with a wobbly grin. “It’s just… the animals. With all the trees falling, their homes, y’know?” You gave a little shrug, voice shaking a bit towards the end as if you were talking about people you knew personally and not a bunch of little forest critters.

Touya was caught off guard by the way you thought sometimes. It would never occur to him to have sympathy for the birds and squirrels post-hurricane. Your sensitivity to such matters was just another thing he loved about you though. But you seemed genuinely troubled by this matter, so he tried to comfort you by giving your shoulder a light squeeze and assuring you, “I’m sure they evacuated to another park, baby.”

You weren’t so convinced, but by then you were nearly back at the apartment complex and something had suddenly caught your eye and made you gasp, your prior thought slipping from your mind.

“Hey, look!” you announced, pointing one of your periwinkle-painted fingers skyward to where a ray of light beamed through the clouds, a promise for the sunny spring days to come. You let out an adorable little giggle and Touya wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side.

It was still drizzling, but suddenly Touya was compelled to close the umbrella, earning a confused look from you and a curiosity of what are you doing on your lips, but he granted you an answer before you could even speak the question into existence.

Pressing his lips to yours, your mouth instinctually parting to let him in, Touya’s lithe fingers gently cradled your jaw as he leaned in to deepen the kiss, a misty spray of rain clinging to your hair and lashes like thousands of tiny crystals. You let the grocery bags slip from your loose, dangling grip, the snacks hitting the pavement with a soft thud as you reached both hands up to twine them through his damp hair, the taste of him sweeter than any hard candies or mochi ice cream that now sat forgotten at the bottom of the bags.

When he finally broke away, the pupils at the center of his half-lidded cobalt gaze were blown wide with nothing except absolute adoration for you, one of those charmingly crooked smiles spreading across his lips, which were now slightly smudged with your favorite glitter gloss.

He let out an amused hum of a chuckle upon your look of innocent bewilderment, still a little taken aback by the sudden and unprompted display of affection, especially in public, but feeling it warm you from the inside out like the sunlight cracking through the clouds.

But then you smiled, big and bright and beautiful, his favorite smile in the whole world, you picking up your grocery bags as he reopened the umbrella above your heads. And as you continued the rest of the way home, the entire time Touya just couldn’t stop thinking about two things: one, how he was constantly reminded how lucky he was to have you in his life, to be able to call you his, and two, how it was never too late to start making new memories in the rain.