#i feel like he is going to mature by the power of love because of fred i truly believe that

[shaanks]

Would you want to pull that Shanks has separation anxiety hc back out from under the bed and maybe perhaps share it with the rest of us? Tbh I LIVE for the head canons you share!!

You are so sweet!!!! 😭😭😭 I'm sorry I've been sitting on this one for several days now, I wanted to be at least sort of clear-headed to answer it properly. Some of this is going under a readmore because I'm incapable of answering things concisely lmfao.

Edit: for anyone watching out there this post is riddled with spoilers so read at your own risk.

**

I think about Shanks and all of his sublimated feelings and fears and dreams so much it makes me so crazy and sad lmfao. Focusing in on the fears part though like...abandonment and loss have been really central themes in his life.

He was found in a locked treasure chest - seemingly abandoned by his biological family (which in the end, good, because if they are who we think they are they suck anyway).

He spends his childhood aboard the LITERAL ship of dreams, two of the most prolific men of that era are his father figures, he has this incredibly close relationship with Buggy, he is soaring on the wings of this burgeoning era, where the only limits he has are what his imagination and talent allow him to be capable of...and then it all just stops.

The family that he knows sails away to the end of their journey without him because he opts to stay behind with Buggy when he gets sick, and nothing is ever the same or right again. Roger sickens, Rayleigh's mind begins to fray. The crew disbands. Everyone disappears.

Roger allows himself to go to the gallows, and on the way there he lays the future of their world on the shoulders of a grieving 14 year old boy, who has to now learn what it means to be utterly alone in a world that has not only branded him enemy, but whose governing structures are fully aware of his power and the danger his talent and proximity to Roger entail.

The only person he had there with him, Buggy, runs out on him - for reasons that were understandable, but could have been avoided by words neither of them had the emotional maturity to express, especially not in the moment of such anguish and grief.

He eventually finds people, good people, new friends and comrades, people he can trust, but even then he is having separation and its cost modeled for him in the form of Yasopp and his son, and eventually in the form of a tenacious, lovable little boy named Luffy, who loves so fiercely and is very clearly terrified of the prospect of being left, of being alone. A fear Shanks resonates with deeply. A pain he knows he will eventually have to inflict on this little boy.

There's a lot of meta around that Shanks had no faith or interest in Luffy until he ate the gum-gum fruit and didn't think he had any potential to be a pirate, but I think that's a really shallow, kind of willfully ignorant take on it. Shanks himself found a home at sea as a boisterous naive child, and the RHP more than have the capability of looking after a child with a penchant for trouble...but that's how he lost his world, too.

Leaving Luffy behind hurt him, but he left him with connection, an emotionally valuable memento, and to Shanks' awareness he was leaving him with a stable support system firmly in place. There are no guarantees in this life, but he's learned through personal experience that not even the Pirate King can grant you assurance that your family at sea will survive.

ALL that to be said that I think one of Shanks' deepest, most untended hurts is loss, the loss of family, of friends, of love, and because that wound has gone unaddressed--and because he went from lost 14 year old boy to Captain to Yonko in such quick succession, and there doesn't tend to be a lot of emotional support for mythic figures of authority--it manifests as separation anxiety.

Individual members of the RHP are rarely seen off on their own, with the exception of Benn going off to rescue Luffy that one time. They all move around together.

When people leave, Shanks keeps tabs on them, when danger arises, he does his best to be two steps ahead of it. I genuinely think there's a part of him that whispers "you'll never see them again" any time someone he cares about walks out of a room, or leaves the ship a little before him. There's a reason, I think, that he's always shown to be the last person to board the ship, why he's always ushering people on ahead of him 50 times before he goes up.

With a lover, I think it would manifest tenfold, I think that's partially why he's so clingy and touchy-feely and cuddly (aside from just being literally the sweetest man alive), because to have that sort of connection means he reached out of the imposed avoidance of his own desires to really bring someone in close, and I think that kind of loss, or the perception of the possibility of that kind of loss, would devastate him in a way he wouldn't recover from.

So he holds your hand everywhere you go, shadows you through rooms, presses you close to his side when you're out at bars, and worries, just a little bit, every time you get up to go to the galley or have to take night watch without him.

Because what if it all falls apart again. What if you disappear. What if the crew disappears. Just like what happened before.

I hope this makes sense and was coherent, I just have a feeling or two about him, ya know?

[fanonimus]

Remember, you asked.

First, you misunderstand the batfamily's concept, or what fanon made them to be (canon is a lil shit we don't like bc its inconsistent.) I would not call them brutal, in the slightest. "Brutal" means savage, uncontrolled violence, which you could say is true to the batfamily, but they are not "brutal" as a family unit, and rarely brutal as individuals. The violence is more often than not stricktly neccesary.

The batfamily is inherently human, a huge family made by choice, with flaws, grief and anger coating every bond, because of the line of work they are in. They are different, yet they still find comfort and familiarity in each other. You can call them toxic, because they are in canon, but the fandom had managed to make something better, something functioning out of it.

The batfamily heals each other, and they offer a place of healing for others.

But then, why DP? You asked.

First, there is the obvious joke we should adress, the adoption bait Danny is. Black hair, blue eyes, trauma is basically Bruce waynes exact adoption type.

Second, Danny has a broken homelife, as much as people want to overlook it. Jack and Maddie are not good parents, fixated on their job, neglecting their kid. Because it is neglect, even if they love him.

Oh look! A sudden point that comes up! Paralells.

Danny's relationship with his parents brings a paralell to Tim's relationship with his own. The Fentons and the Drakes both love their son, but their job is always more important. They were not fit for parenthood, and they have no clue what to do with a child.

And lets not forget that Danny died a pretty traumatic death, which realistically would cause a fourteen year old biig ptsd, which I feel like is not properly explored in the show (shocker). And then he is brought back by this green goo (more on ectoplasm later), which brings us our second paralell, which is Jason Todd. Jason also died a traumatic dead at age fourten, and then was brought back to consciousness by green goo.

So, you have a teenage vigilante with black hair, blue eyes who had to die to gain his powers, is super traumatised, and hunted by his own parents, also has a creepy old man who wants to make him his sucsessor.

Yeah that is another paralel to Tim, and surprisingly Dick. (Slade when I cach you...)

I dunno about you, but Danny just fits into this little found family thing they have going on.

But what about Jass, I hear you asking.

Jass was also neglected, and then forced to take on a third parental role when Danny was born. Her love for psychology is not an accident, she wants to provide the best life for her brother, and emotional growth can only be supported by an emotionally mature person.

Add that to the fact that her brother technically died at fourteen, and you get a pretty good gist about how much trauma she herself might be repressing, which is an amazing point of discusion in any media.

Now onto the worldbuilding, and why DP adds so much to the DCU.

First, lets address the elephant in the blog, green goo. The lazarus pitts make so much sense as contaminated ectoplasm, it's not even funny. Ectoplasm is what ghosts are made out of, its what gives them life, what helps them heal. So it would make sense that it would assist with bringing back a person, but really wrong. It's dirty with age, and death, that's why it works as it does. It's an excellent plot drive, with Danny hellping Jason overcome the effects of this horrid thing inside him, and it also gives us an exciting premise of Jason being somewhat an opposite of Danny. Fully dead, and fully alive, not some half this half that. Jason is not just a ghost possessing his own body, he's him, he's still one, body and soul, even if he died.

Second, the GIW (Guys In White/Ghost Investigation Ward) and the AEA (Anty Ecto Acts).

The AEA goes against Meta Protection Laws, dehumanizing ectoplasmic beings and taking away every right denizens (residents of the infinite realms/ghost zone, more on that later) would deserve as sentient beings.

This brings in a tension point for the justice leauge and the gowernment, makind for stellar drama. Also a tension point for Damian and Jason, who are considered Ectoplasmic beings (lazarus pit).

The GIW are the enforcers basically. They experiment on denizens, they are a government organization, and such.

The implications of the Infinite realms, and how it fits.

As we know, the DCU is a multiverse, with a lot of different universes, The ghost zone, or Infinite realms, depending on who you ask, is basically the veins of the universe, and the ectoplasm is its blood. There, it fitts nicely, I am not going into politics bc that is really author dependent.

All in all, the two just fits together so perfectly, it would have been strange not to decide a crosover is due.

This is all I have right now, if I missed something, feel free to tell me.

I genuinely want to know where DC×DP got started. Who looked at this brutal, angry, violent family and said "you know who would go great with this? An overrated nickelodeon cartoon about ghosts" like ?????

[iangallagherisadeadman]

post-s11 Tami definitely gets tired of Lip and leaves him.

yes, I do like them as a couple, I think it is an interesting dynamic and that Tami is good for him honestly, even though they lived completely different lives and crash so many times because of it throughout the last seasons.

fact is Lip won't ever change and will keep making the same kind of mistakes and she will get fed up with it eventually. they'll go different ways, maybe keep a somewhat friendly relationship, and she will get a new partner and Lip will have a Sean kind of relationship with Fred: that kid is the most important thing in his whole life and he's constantly hunted by the fear of drinking again and hurting Fred.

[eternallyhauntingthehouseoflove]

Bat-Boys in Bed

I couldn’t find a good gif, sue me

Dick Grayson’s mouth is filthy. And he gets enough praise, so I think he’d be into praising you instead.” You’re so pretty, all fucked-out and dumb…just for me” as he pounds into you, panting in between words.

He’d also be into touchy sex positions, like missionary where he can hook his nose into your neck and wrap his arms around you. Dick would be into you giving him hickies.

I think Dick has an insane stamina—round after round. His hips would meet yours at a punishing pace as he muttered out praise,” this cunt is so warm and wet for me. My beautiful girl.” And he place wet kisses to your neck and cheeks.

Dick isn’t above moaning, but he’s not pornographic about it.i see him whimpering and begging if he’s getting a blow job or if you’re on top and teasing him, but I don’t see him moaning as much or more than you.

Jason Todd isn’t much of a talker during sex, but I do believe he moans. He’d be a lot more gentle with you than popular belief thinks. Especially if we’re talking older, mature Jason who’s passed his “fresh from the pit madness.”

I do believe Jason has a choking kink and I’ll die on this hill. And it doesn’t have to be his hand around your throat or vice versa. It can be him shoving his cock to the back of your throat and feeling you pulse and throb around him.

He enjoys, mature Jason too, seeing your eyes go wide and glassy. Jason loves to pull his cock from your mouth after you’ve had enough and seeing your lips plump and pink. He loves the slight flush of your tits.

Jason is a lot more eager to switch roles and be on the bottom than Dick. If you’re feeling top-ish and want to ride. Jason wouldn’t argue as you ground down on him, rolling your hips and leaving a trail of slick on his pelvis.

He’d beg through covered lips as you shushed him and picked up your pace, driving your hips forward and giving Jason the release he’d been craving.

I don’t know enough about Tim or Duke, sorry.

Bruce is harder to read because there’s decades of lore, canon, and stuff that’s not in the main continuity. Many writers have different versions of him that some favorite—however, here goes.

Bruce is a control freak. Whether you planned it or not, you’d end up in a dom/sub dynamic. He’d be choosing your clothes, picking which jewelry he buys, telling you when to cum before you even realize it.

I also think he has a power imbalance kink, just a little bit. Nothing extreme or megalomaniacal. So I truly believe you wouldn’t be rich (sorry lol); you’d maybe be a lesser known vigilante, and that’s if Bruce is healthily interested in you. I believe you’d be a civilian, but a smart and compassionate one. We know Bruce isn’t one to dumb himself down for company; we know Bruce is attracted to smart women, but none of his past relationships worked because they didn’t have a heart ( I love Talia, but he real; she wasn’t Mother Teresa).

This one may lose people, but I believe Bruce has a breeding kink. It would be a chance for him to restart. His only blood child is an arrogant, cold assassin and the rest of his children are masked vigilantes who dance with death nightly. But with you, his love, he could have a child not born in pain and anger. He’s older and wiser; he’s not as vengeful and mission oriented as he was when he adopted Dick and Jason; Tim sought him out, and Damian came with a chip on his shoulder.

Bruce is unyielding in his refusal to switch places. He’s too paranoid and enjoys control too much to bottom. The closest you’ll get to topping is bossing him around from the bottom.” faster, pretty boy.” You reached up and caressed his face as his pace stuttered and he spilled into you, gasping and groaning as he did.

You wouldn’t be fucked in the suit or the Batmobile. And he hates being called Batman in bed. The closest you’d get to mixing sex with his vigilante life is getting fucked in the Batcomputer seat.

Damian Wayne is the kinkiest Batfam member. I see Damian, who didn’t undergo such a beautiful arc, having a blood and bondage kink.

Damian preferred to tie you down rather than tie you up. He cares for you, and tying you up puts you in an uncomfortable position (he doesn’t want that) and it screws with your circulation. And if he ties you down, he can see your face as he places the vibrator right on your clit. He can see you try to knock your knees—to no avail.

Damian loved to take a small knife and inflict a wound, if you can even call it that. It was feather soft, and you loved when he would wrap his mouth around the wound and suck the blood. Then he’d kiss you, letting the saliva and metallic taste mingle.

I believe Damian would be into hickies and spanking too, but not the for the violence like I see from the kinkier side of the fandom. He would be into hickies, spanking, bandage, and blood play for the markings. It all boiled down to markings. And that’s not to claim that those activities didn’t get you both off, but Damian’s true enjoyment stemmed from the possessiveness of it all.

That’s why he likes to untie you and massage the rope imprints, then walk you to the mirror and spin you around, letting you see all the prints and marks. He could feel himself harden again, but he knew he’d break you if he ever tried to impose his libido and stamina on you.

Don’t kill me, but Damian isn’t into cunnilingus. He also wouldn’t bottom, not like you’d want him to. If, and that’s a huge “if” ( it’s months into the relationship too), he does bottom, it’s not traditional bottoming. Damian would top from the bottom,” go slower, grind harder, beloved.” And he’d grip your hips hard enough to leave prints, because marks, duh!

Damian likes sloppy blow jobs. I know he’s proper and clean, but trust me. Spit, moans, and whimpers; that’s what gets him off. And seeing your cheeks flush and your breathing quicken, but you keep going lower and taking more of him in. He appreciates the determination, and it makes him feel in control, huge, and dominant which strokes his ego.

[verysium]

attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

[kingofbodyrolls]

Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk

When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.

→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.

Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.

He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.

Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.

Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.

���Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?

For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.

Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.

“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?” 

His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.

Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.

Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.

“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.

“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”

With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”

Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.

“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.

He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger. 

“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.

Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.

“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.

You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.

Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.

Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.

You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened. 

Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word? 

Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?

It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.

With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.

Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.

A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.

God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.

For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.

The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.

Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.

There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.

Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.

For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.

Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.

Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.

As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.

Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.

A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.

The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.

Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.

As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.

You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.

“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.

The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?

Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?

You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.

“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”

Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.

Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.

“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.

“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.

“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.

He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.

You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.

Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.

You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.

“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.

“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.

“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?

You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”

You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.

“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.

“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.

“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.

“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.

“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.

“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.

“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.

You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.

“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.

“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.

You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.

His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.

“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.

You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.

He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.

He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.

“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.

“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.

He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.

With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.

“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.

In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.

In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.

His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.

You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace. 

“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.

A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.

“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.

Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing. 

“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.

With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.

“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.

Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.

So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.

“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.

“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”

He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”

You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face. 

“You could also come, you know?”

His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.

You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”

His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.

A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.

Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.

Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin. 

“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.

As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.

“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.

Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”

As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”

“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.

Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.

“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.

As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.

Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.

“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.

With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.

She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you. 

“I have a feeling you might need this.”

You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.

As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.

Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.

His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.

You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.

You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.

“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.

“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.

You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.

You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.

You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”

Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.

Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.

“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.

You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.

“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.

“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.

“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.

You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.

“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.

“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”

Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.

“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.

You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”

He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”

You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”

He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’

“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.

“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.

“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.

“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”

“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.

He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”

With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.

With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.

His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.

He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.

You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.

He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”

You nod and give him a small smile.

You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”

With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.

He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.

His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.

The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.

“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.

You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.

“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.

“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”

Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.

You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.

“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.

As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.

His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.

“Your panties are wet.” 

You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.

“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.

“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.

He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.

“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”

As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.

He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.

“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.

He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”

With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.

The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.

“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.

Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”

You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.

“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.

With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.

As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”

His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.

You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.

With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.

With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.

As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”

With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.

With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.

“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.

With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.

You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”

As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.

His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.

“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.

Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.

“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.

“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.

“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

“I already feel so good.”

He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.

“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.

Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.

“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.

“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.

“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.

“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.

“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you. 

He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

That’s it. You’re gonna come again.

“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.

“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.

You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”

“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.

As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.

“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.

“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.

His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”

You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”

As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.

He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.

You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.

As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.

“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.

Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[astrow0rldx]

PAC Tarot: What is your seductive power🫧

COUNT LEFT TO RIGHT NOT VERTICALLY. while writing, the moon is in leo, time to shine!

pick an image it can be whatever your intuition calls to, the photography you find most aesthetically pleasing, or just the one that reminds/looks most like you (doesn't have to).

these were so random on my Pinterest homepage, and don't fit into any category, i chose them before the reading to. but lets get into the reading.. Listen to your song to understand your muse & extra messages. Click the link to understand the Seduction Type for your pile.

Pile One type: the natural

TAROT: 3 of pentacles, 3 of wands. ORACLE: Root chakra: Resilience + "enslaved, surrendering control"

Unpredictable, exciting, adventurous.

Besides your type as the natural, which is the least toxic archetype and basically about being genuine, playful & having a emotional connection that connects them with childhood nostalgia. Read more about it on the link + listen to your song.

Your seduction power is your strength to overcome things. Cope with hardships. Your deep lore, and trauma. People probably are seduced by the thought of you "taking it" & surrendering yourself to them. You having that strength. With the double 3 also signifying this growth & resilience, you seduce people by maturing kind of. The strength and confidence you come with from it.

People may be seduced when you are with groups of people too. 3 of wands is also about traveling, & expanding experiences. Heavy on the adventure part, adventures with you, your forward thinking & openness seduces people. Seduced by going places and exploring with you, like field trips, dates, parties, plans. The more you grow in life, that seduces people. Sexually people might be seduced by the fact that they can try new experiences with you, and grow/expand.

You definitely seduce people in school or work areas. People are seduced when they are working with you, again in a group. How you work with them & build connections and your teamwork that you put into it. The way you can collaborate and the way you make other people feel collaborating with them.

Pile Two type: the rake

TAROT: 3 of swords. King of Cups. ORACLE: Third eye: Merlin + Dominator

I did not talk about the rake in my seduction type post, because that seduction type is mostly used by men. I mean if you are a masc, or like women then hey. But at the end of the day the rake isn't as masculine. It's just the rebel, player bad boy type. But when he wants a girl he love bombs her to make her feel desired. So if your a feminine that dealt with that, you really can play the game on them. I suggest you look more into the rake archetype, & listen to your song! (yes it was shuffled, ironic how it's "promises")

3 of swords & King of cups, literally sound like your archetype. Heartbreaker Lover. King of cups is very emotionally intelligent, which most manipulative people have, but king of cups is not alwaysss manipulative. Very compassionate & understanding. They are emotional creatures, but balanced. Romantic, Charming, Sympathetic. Merlin is an old wise mediator. Very mature but balances people emotions. Emotionally intelligent asf.

But 3 of swords, takes 3 shots to heart and is betrayed, depressed, separated. Which is the effect you give to them. But you could also seduce people from the complex pain you been through, and your big heart with it. So your seduction power is definitely the rake. With dominator your probably the one that dominates the romance and affection within the relationship, so you can have the control to take it away and heartbreak. Sexually, people are seduced by wanting you to dominate them & take control.

I feel like you might accidentally give people false promises from just your vibe & when you separate, it breaks their heart and seduces them.

Pile Three type: the star

TAROT: Ace of wands, Page of Wands. Oracle: Solar Plexus: Centered + Sex toys

Your seduction type, which I hope you go to the link to really understand, the star is a blank canvas for people fantasies & dreams. They are idolized and put on a high pedestal and attract people who want to watch them. Listen to your song!!!! (Another song I channeled which is ironic because the one I shuffled is Homiesexual. the other song is Homie Bitch by Lil Durk) I bet you pull groups of men, and all their homies or something. Listen to the full song of both tho for extra messages.

Magnet, Magnet, Magnet. I know your sexy, get a lot of attention, or seduce people. If you don't think you do, you do & have a lot of present potential to. Your seduction power is turning people on. Your seduction power is quite literally in you in your sexual energy to. People like when your freaky. People might be seduced by the fact you using toys on yourself. Or quite literally look at you as a sex toy. You put people in that carnal, raw, curious, adrenaline, playful, thrilling sexual energy. You are looked at as a good fuck.. because page of wands is pretty immature and thinking with whatever they have between their legs. Are you like a hoe, or a thot?? If so, to my "thots" you seduce people that way.

Your seduction is you, just you shining in your energy, centered in yourself, your exciting self, your sexual self. Your vibrant, fiery self. EXPRESSING YOURSELF & BEING BOLD. spontaneous, playful, creative self. You seduce people by the way you spark excitement in others, or them.

Pile Four type: the dandy

TAROT: The Hermit, The Empress. ORACLE: Throat Chakra: Inner truth + Face

Go to the link to really understand. But as a dandy you are seductive in your individuality, uniqueness, weirdness, REBEL & DIFFERENT, ambiguous, gender fluid side. Dandy gives me a lot of Aquarius, Uranus Prominent energy.

By the picture you chose, the face & the empress card, your probably pretty and have a nice face card. That's a way you seduce people. The empress is a queen of all queens, top model energy so your femininity or just how people see you as a high valued woman is seductive to people. The way your out the mix, and go with your inner truth, and your OWN shit is seductive. People respect you a lot & your independence. Your loner vibe can seduce people, in a mystique, puzzling type way. People love to hear what YOU have to say & are seduced when you speak your mind. They love your honesty & transparency.

Pile Five type: the charismatic

TAROT: 10 of cups, 9 of cups. ORACLE: Third Eye chakra: Ancient Knowledge + Doggy

Since I didn't write about this one in my seducer type post: "A charismatic seducer is someone who is exciting and self-driven, and who can come across as someone most people want to be like. They may be leaders, visionaries, public figures, or great orators. Charisma is a presence that excites us. It comes from an inner quality, self-confidence, sexual energy, sense of purpose, contentment that most people lack and want. This quality radiates outward, permeating the gestures of Charismatics, making them seem extraordinary and superior. They learn to heighten their charisma with a piercing gaze, fiery oratory, an air of mystery. Create the charismatic illusion by radiating intensity while remaining detached. compelling attractiveness or charm that can inspire devotion in others."

Listen to your song for extra messages. Another lyric i channeled for this pile is "Is this the thanks that I get for putting you bitches on" by Nicki Minaj.

Your seduction type, with the tarot you got + your song is like your their ultimate ecstasy, wish fulfillment, need, satisfaction. Everything they want. You seduce people by the idea of worth you have, like if this was mine I would be soo happy. Your everything. You may be thick, don't have to be just a nice booty, & people are seduced by the idea of putting you in doggy. They like that idea of you, even by the picture you chose, your arch pics, the way you sit, or stuff like that that symbolize that position can seduce people.

You might be witches, tarot readers too. Or your special, ancient, or inner knowledge that you have to bring to the table seduces people.

Pile Six type: the siren

TAROT: 3 of wands, Page of wands. ORACLE: Sacral Chakra: Inhibitions + Dominator

The siren is the one that is so sensually appealing to all the senses, irresistible allure, and captivating. While also having a dream like experience on them from their push-pull manipulation tactic. Go to the link to understand more, & listen to your song for extra messages.

For this pile you might have been going back & forth on which one to choose. But a siren definitely has multiple archetypes anyways and is very seductive so that makes sense. You seduce people when having fun, Idk if you have life of the party energy, but when you are in that energy or just in your spontaneous energy that brings them back to maybe that age of 15-27 year old energy you know what I mean. Your adrenaline, or the adrenaline you give people. When you guys take trips and have fun that seduces people. The downtown vibe from your picture adds to it. Sacral Chakra is all about our joy & pleasures. But Inhibitions is someone who's shy & self conscious, reserved. This could be you, or how you make people feel that just seduces people.

People are seduced by your playful sexual side, maybe when drunk, twerking, dancing, thirst traps, etc etc.

Your dominance, and the way you take charge seduces people. Im channeling this song i seen used for a Kamala Harris Edit 246 something party girl, brat something. LMAO. But maybe Kamala Harris is a sign she's this fun easy going party girl, who's our future president of the USA. She's connected with her sacral chakra, inner child. But she can Dominate a room. Even the song choice of Nicki Minaj gives similar energy. Sexually, people are seduced when you do dominate them.

Pile Seven type: the coquette

TAROT: 4 of pentacles, The World. ORACLE: Face, Throat chakra: Divine Messenger.

The coquette as a seduction type, is not all lolita, baby girl aesthetic. Even though it could be. It's the ultimate female manipulator. Look at the link to learn more, but she seduces by making people jealous to compete. Distancing once it gets to good to delay gratification & make them obsessed with her affection. etc etc. Listen to your song for more messages to.

Going with your seduction type, you seduce people by making them feel whole with you. Like with you their complete, and your someone they want to hold on to, not let go & posses. With the divine messenger, people could feel like your meant to be, sent to them, wether its literally spiritual or they just have that emotional feeling. You also seduce people by your air of independence and the fact that your complete & whole in yourself and that you are very self-assured. You seduce people by being stingy, and fulfilled. You seduce people with everything you have, and how valuable you are and the things that you value. 2nd house/taurus energy. You could have a lot of material things, or things going for your self, you seem very achieved and that seduces people.

Your probably pretty, and your face card seduces people, or just your facial expressions, eye contact, etc etc.

Pile Eight type: the charmer

TAROT: 3 of wands. Ace of cups. ORACLE: Solar Plexus: Wholeness of self + Red Flag.

Charmer is the funny but empathetic inviting charming person. Look at my link to really understand the psychology behind this archetype. I channeled a lyric, "Come & touch me, let me know that your real". And it just goes with your archetype + red flag. People are seduced by the fact they can't trust you but want to trust you, because you seduce them. Listen to your song!! (Its so ironic how the most emo song got shuffled for the most emo picture)

People are seduced by the adventure & experiences you expand them to. Your thrill, and newness. Seduced by the love you have to offer and give, people are seduced when you first come in, your honeymoon stage or just they feel like that a lot because your affection and love/care you give is so seductive. People are seduced by the fact that your secure and safe within yourself, and you let loose with people. Your probably a calm, in the moment person. People are seduced by your too good to be true charm, and its like your a red flag.

Pile Nine type: the ideal lover

TAROT: ten of cups, 3 of wands ORACLE: crown chakra: spiritual awakening + spooning

The Ideal Lover archetype is a seductive who can mold into people ultimate soulmate fantasy. Look on my link to understand more, and listen to your song for extra messages.

okay so many piles get 3 of wands & i shuffle really good. 3 of wands might be an extremely seductive power, the way people can expand experiences, have adventures & escape. That's definitely your power. The fact that you got 10 of cups as a Ideal Lover Archetype. You are the Ideal Lover, people feel happy ever after, marriage, kids, ecstasy with you. You literally bring them to a whole new world. Especially with the spiritual awakening card. Your song picture perfect, its like your literally a walking fantasy. People are grateful to have you, but with seduction power you can use that to your best advantage that you have a gift to morph into being your target soulmate romance fantasy. Spooning is such a romantic sexual oracle card. People just want to be under you, hug you. Your like marriage material!

[milliumizoomi]

Hello, I was thinking Armando Aretas x Reader. Where Reader was sleeping, and she felt the bed dip and noticed that Armando was on top her with his head on her chest and he was slightly crying because he had nightmare and Reader comforts him because he deserves the whole world. She also kisses his head and playing with his hair.

𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

☆彡SUMMARY.; In which the night is unforgiving to Armando, so you do everything in your power to help him.

☆彡FEATURED.; ARMANDO ARETAS x FEM! READER

☆彡TROPE.; ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP

☆彡FORMAT.; ONE SHOT

☆彡GENRE.; FLUFF + ANGST + HURT ➪ COMFORT

☆彡WARNINGS.; mentions of nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of anxiety, mature language, actions of crying and vulnerability, fear of being left behind, google translated spanish, and slight bad boys for life spoilers.

☆彡NOTES.; oooo babes this requestttt omg I love it🥹🥹,, the vulnerability of him is something that I’ve always liked so I’m soooo happy to write this. Tysm for this request and I hope I’ll be able to portray it good. I hope you all enjoy!!💕💕

[P.S.] HE USES THE TERM MAMA AS A FORM OF ENDEARMENT, its holds the same weight as the terms babe or baby would.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED😉.

🎧FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, YOU CAN LISTEN TO RIGHT MY WRONGS by BRYSON TILLER🎧

The rain beat down on the glass windows of your apartment. It was currently 2:33 am and you were sound asleep, softly breathing in the tranquil of deep slumber.

Between the pitter patter of the rain hitting the windows, and the soft and gentle vrring of the air conditioning, you couldn’t help the calming sounds that kept you in a deep state of sleep.

However, the man beside you couldn’t fare the same.

Armando had been tossing and turning all night.

At one point he woke up in a cold sweat. He looked over at your sleeping form, softly snoring away and he didn’t want to bother you because he’s hates the feeling of vulnerability in any situation. So he sucked it up and tried to go back to sleep.

By now another 2 hours have passed and it’s by now you’re beginning to stir in bed. You felt the bed dip beside you but thought nothing of it, thinking Armando was just doing something, or simply sitting up in bed so you tried shifting in bed and going back to sleep.

That was until you felt a sudden dip in the bed right next to you, and then a sudden weight on your body. Your eyes shot open and you look down to see a little mop of hair in your face. It wasn’t the weight of his body on top of yours that startled you, it was the fact that your shirt was dampening as he was hiding is face in your chest.

He was crying. And he never cries.

Immediately you began to worry and sat up as he was holding onto you, following your body up. He was holding onto you so tightly that his grip was threatening to pull you back down.

“Baby..? Are you okay?” You caress his head softly as the worry in your voice was evident. He didn’t answer, opting to hold onto you tighter. “Baby please talk to me.. what’s wrong?” You scrape your fingers through his hair gently in order to calm him down.

Finally he looks up at you and you see his red watery eyes and dried tears in his cheeks, with more tears threatening to spill down them. Immediately your hands shoot up to his face and caresses his cheeks.

“Dime qué pasa bebé. Estoy aquí y te escucho.”

Finally he looks at you and holds onto you tighter. You feel his body slightly shaking and your worry continues to grow.

“..had a dream you got shot.. took a bullet for me and i just kinda.. stood there and let it happen… I didn’t react fast enough and you just dropped and I..—“ he starts and then chokes up.

“Shh baby I’m here.. I’m here with you.. I didn’t go anywhere, I didn’t die”

You caress his head and pulls him impossibly closer to you, comforting him the best you can by reassuring words and kisses, littering them all over his face. He just surrenders to your actions, wanting nothing more than just being close to you in this moment.

“Did the nightmare just happen?” You ask him. Wordlessly, he nods his head no and you can feel his body convulsing, as to hold back his tears. You gently rub his back, and proceeds to slide back down into a laying position with his head still on your chest.

Your heart ached seeing him like this.

“Should’ve woken me up babe.. you know I’d help you” you say softly into his hair, simultaneously kissing the top of his head.

“..didn’t wanna bother you” he says back.

You furrow your eyebrows at this. “You’ve never bothered me baby.. if it happens again, wake me up okay?”

He nods and hugs around your waist tighter.

This went on for a couple more minutes and you could tell it was extremely painful for him to talk about.

Everytime he’d try to explain in detail what happened in his dream, he’d get choked up again and you couldn’t stand to see him hurt so much anymore.

“You don’t have to say anything else okay? Nothing at all.. I won’t leave you by yourself.. I won’t die on you.. te prometo que” you say softly, pulling his head up from your chest with both of your hands then plants a kiss on his lips, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears escaping his eyes.

He leans into the kiss, closing his eyes and the furrowing his eyebrows, a tendency he has a lot. You pull away and he stares into your eyes.

“No puedes volver con eso mamà.. you promised”

You smile at him and then kiss him again. “I’m not going anywhere babe.. I promise.. hasta el fuego”

He finally cracks a small smile at your words, a little bit of peace comes with what you just said to him.

He rests his head back into your chest.. mimicking the same words back to you.

“Así es mamá.. hasta el fuego”

The rest of the night is filled with the same pitter pattering of the rain hitting the windows, and the gentle sound of the AC filling the space, except this time, the man you love so deeply is resting on your chest, the steady beating of your heart reassuring him that you are here, and still with him.

That you go won’t anywhere.

And you in turn use your fingers to comb through his hair, scratching his scalp gently and playing with his hair, occasionally kissing his head and caressing his body to soothe him back to sleep.

You had already made up your mind that you wouldn’t sleep until he fell asleep.

Between the beating of your heart, your touches and the rain outside, it didn’t take long for the man resting on your chest to drift away into slumber.

And you in turn smiled, happy that he can now get the rest he deserves, knowing that you won’t be going anywhere, unless it’s with him.

[GLOSSARY]

“Dime qué pasa bebé. Estoy aquí y te escucho.” — Tell me what's wrong baby.. i'm here and i'm listening

“..—te prometo que” — I promise you that

“No puedes volver con eso mamá..” — you can’t go back on that mama

“hasta el fuego” — to the fire or til we burn

“Así es mamá” — that’s right mama

ミ★

{TAGLIST} :: @loakswifesworld @ghettogirly @tinys0ftie @shurisgf || if you’d like to be added to the taglist just let me know in comments or dms🤗💕

[yuujispinkhair]

Good Boy

Sukuna is a powerful man. Everybody knows him as the successful and arrogant CEO of the SHRINE company. But they don't know that at home, in the bedroom, he is a very different man. Only you know what Sukuna truly needs to be able to function in his stressful job.

Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, BDSM elements, sub+dom dynamic, reader is a soft dom, restraining, collaring, impact play (flogging with a leather paddle), dirty talk, spitting in Sukuna's mouth, praise, edging, Sukuna cums untouched on command, pegging (Sukuna receiving). This is a modern + no-curses AU. Sukuna is a CEO and married to Reader. All things happen with mutual consent. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Dividers by @/benkeibear

Sukuna is a powerful man. Successful and feared by many. A big player in the business world. He makes it look easy, makes it look like he can do all of that effortlessly. He keeps up a high pace, coming to work before everyone else and only leaving after the sun has set. Attending business events and giving interviews for magazines while always wearing a smug smirk on his handsome face. Always hiding his true self behind a mask of professionalism and arrogance.

No one is allowed to see behind that mask. With one exception. There is one person who knows how stressed Sukuna truly is. How tired he is. Only one person knows the toll his work takes on him. Only you. Only his wife.

You are the only one who knows that sometimes the powerful CEO needs a break from everything. Only you know that sometimes this big, strong, and powerful man wants to be on his knees for you, bound and collared, needing to hear you call him your good boy before he is able to cum.

Sukuna hadn't known this side of himself for a long time. Maybe it was because he wasn't mature enough in his younger years. Maybe it was because his past relationships never offered him the amount of trust and love that the relationship with you gives him.

But Sukuna still remembers the day that changed everything. The day that made him discover something about himself and about his deepest needs.

He only wanted to take a short trip to your favorite lingerie boutique to buy a little something for you for White Day. A new set of sinfully expensive lingerie that you could wear for him.

It had been a stressful day at work, a meeting with the CEO of a rival company that had left Sukuna pissed off and on the edge. He hoped to find distraction in picking sexy underwear for his beloved wife, picturing you in it, easing his mind with thoughts of fucking you while you wore that pretty red lacey set with the little heart dangling from it.

But things didn't go as Sukuna had planned. His gaze strayed away from the luxurious red lace lingerie and landed on a display of collars. And all of a sudden Sukuna felt conflicted. So damn conflicted.

At that moment, he couldn't tell why the sight of those collars made him feel so strange. He drew his gaze away again and strolled to another corner of the boutique to look at more beautiful lingerie sets. But he couldn't focus. His thoughts stayed occupied with those leather collars. And suddenly, he found that his feet had carried him back to that one display.

He walked past it several times until he sighed and finally stopped in front of it, took one collar out of the shelf, and let it glide through his fingers. The black leather felt nice in his hand, smooth and warm. He tried to picture it on you, but to his utter surprise, he realized that it wasn't you who he wanted to put it on.

Oh. That is interesting.

He gulped.

His large hand trembled slightly when he brought the collar up a bit. He held it in front of his throat, feeling his pulse accelerate at seeing his faint reflection in the glass display.

What if...

He ground his teeth in annoyance when the shop assistant interrupted his moment by walking up to him.

"I see you are also interested in our Playtime Collection, sir. All collars and restraints are of the highest quality, of course. They offer high comfort and long usage. Do you want to pick one for your wife to go with the lingerie? I would recommend a thinner one in that case, more delicate, and maybe in a matching red? We also have some collars with a diamond charm. That collection is very popular for White Day. Should I get it for you?"

Sukuna stood there in silence for several seconds, too stunned to say anything. A rare moment for the CEO of the SHRINE Company. But he was a professional, after all, and so he turned around to smile politely at the shop assistant, his usual mask perfectly in place, as he informed her,

"No, thank you. This one is perfect. Put it in a separate gift box, please."

He left the shop feeling light-headed, and the bag sitting on the passenger seat of his Porsche seemed to emit a seductive lure the whole drive home, making adrenaline pump through Sukuna's veins.

What if she puts that collar on me?

The thought excited him and made him feel ashamed at the same time.

Never had he imagined he would be into this. Wasn't it embarrassing that a man like him even contemplated something like this?

But underneath that shame was something else. Something he craved: Comfort.

He knew what a collar like that meant. I wasn't just a pretty little accessory. It meant giving yourself to someone. It meant a sub giving themselves into their dom's hands fully. And that was a thought that made him grip the steering wheel tighter.

Wouldn't it be lovely? Wouldn't it be exactly what he needed after a hard day like this? Coming home and letting you put a collar on him? Giving himself into your loving hands? Handing control over to you. He loved you with his whole heart and soul. He trusted you like he never thought he could trust someone apart from himself.

Wouldn't it be so comforting to let you collar him and dominate him completely? Wouldn't it be such a relief to let himself fall into you? To hand control over to someone else, at least for a few hours, in the safety of his home?

The thought made a low groan slip from Sukuna's mouth.

He hid the small gift box in the walk-in closet. It sat there next to his designer watches and golden cufflinks, waiting for him to finally propose the idea to you.

When he did, after an exquisite dinner a few days later, you had smiled at him, slipped on his lap, and petted his hair, eyes filled with love and understanding.

"You want me to collar you? You want to be my... submissive?"

"Yes, that's what I want, darling. Only if you are comfortable with the idea."

"Of course I am. It will help you with all the pressure at work. It will help you let go. You know I am always worried about you with all the high stress levels you have day in and day out. I'm glad you came to me with this idea, Sukuna."

He released a breath of relief and tightened his arms around you. Of course, you understood. You always knew exactly what he needed.

Sukuna laughed softly. How funny it was. Here he was, this tall, buff man with a body full of solid muscles and intimidating-looking tattoos, someone who was feared in the whole business world, while you were so soft and small compared to him. But he knew you would catch him. He knew you would be strong, so he could be weak. He knew he wanted to be on his knees for you.

You did research starting that night. You discussed everything with him, set boundaries, and outlined how you both expected this dynamic to work. You went shopping with him the next day, getting everything you needed. You started slowly and tried things, experimenting to see what you both liked and to find out what exactly Sukuna needed.

That was a year ago. Sukuna has been collared for eleven months now, and he has never felt more liberated in his life. The collar grounds him. The collar takes the pressure off.

Sometimes, when he has an extremely stressful day in the office, he takes five minutes off to close his eyes and imagine coming home and getting on his knees for you. Just the thought of you putting his collar on him tonight helps him get through his busy workday. Just the thought of being allowed to get into subspace tonight makes him get through another meeting.

When you are in public, your roles are reversed in everyone else's eyes. Sukuna is the powerful CEO. The big, muscular hunk of a man in his designer suit who is in control at all times. The one with the smug smirk and the snide remarks. The one who effortlessly navigates through this business party and holds an immaculate speech before mingling with the crowd, where he charms new potential business partners into making a deal with him. And you are the sweet little wife on his arm who looks up at him and depends on her rich and dominant husband to take care of her.

They don't know the truth.

They don't know that you told Sukuna before the party that if he is a good boy tonight and manages to get that potential new business partner on his side, you will let him worship your pussy when you are home again.

Sukuna never expected how easy it would be, how natural it would feel to hand over control to you and let himself slip into subspace. How splendid it would feel to give himself fully to you.

He sighs when you bind his wrists with his tie, fixing them behind his back. He feels warm when you tell him to kneel for you. He is excited by the way you look at him when he is on the floor on his knees for you, with his muscular thighs spread, completely naked while you are still dressed. He loves to feel your gaze on his body, on his muscles, on his tattoos. He loves to see the love in your eyes.

Sukuna groans when your gaze lands on his cock, taking your time to look at him. It's so arousingly intimate. You have seen him naked so many times, have seen and touched his cock so often. But it is different when he is bound and kneeling before you. It makes him so hard that he feels dizzy. Pre-cum is running thickly down his hard length as your gaze inspects his cock and his taut full balls.

He moans when you get up from the bed and stand beside him, putting a hand in his pink hair and tugging on it gently, pulling his head against your hip, petting his hair, and cooing at him,

"My pretty boy."

Sukuna can't help but let out a sigh of relief and nuzzle his face gratefully against your hip. He feels exhilarated when you grab his hair and tug on it, smiling while you look at him and tell him,

"Open your mouth for me, my love."

He does so eagerly, opening up and sticking his tongue out while gazing up at you through his long black lashes. He is well-trained and proud of it. Sukuna has always been a fast learner, driven by his ambitious nature. A man used to working for his well-deserved success. Always striving to be the best. Of course, he had excelled in this task, too. In becoming the perfect submissive pet for you.

He can see the approval and adoration in your eyes, and it makes his heart feel so full. Especially when you praise him for his obedience.

"Such a good boy."

Your fingers caress his hair, making him moan lightly when your nails scratch over his undercut, but his mouth stays open, his tongue still sticking out, eyes fixed on your face, waiting for your command or for whatever you have planned for him tonight. Finally, he doesn't have to make decisions anymore. Finally, he can rest and give himself into your loving hands.

You slowly part your lips, which are painted with the beautiful, deep red lipstick he loves so much on you. His lashes flutter in anticipation. Your hand grabs his chin, gently tilting his head further upwards, and then you spit in his waiting mouth, letting your spit drool into his mouth slowly, showing him that from now on, you are the one in control.

"Now swallow it."

He does so, and your hand caresses his cheek lovingly.

"You are so good for me, Sukuna. You truly deserve your collar, baby."

His cock twitches needily when you put it on him, and he feels the smooth leather wrap around his throat. Your fingertips caress his neck lovingly for a moment before you pull away to let your hands slip under your skirt. Sukuna watches with a lust-filled gaze as you pull down your panties, the lacey red ones he gifted to you. You let them fall to the floor as you sit down on the bed, spreading your legs, letting Sukuna see your glistening wet cunt underneath your short skirt.

"You were such a good boy tonight at the party. It's time for your reward."

Sukuna moans softly when you fasten the leash on the golden ring on his collar and give it a firm tug, pulling him closer until he is kneeling between your spread legs.

Your pussy is right in front of his face, hot and dripping wet. So beautiful, so enticing. He can feel your warmth, can smell your sweet scent. He wants to push his face between your legs so badly. But he waits obediently like the good boy he wants to be. He waits for your command.

"Spoil my pussy, pretty boy. Make me cum on that pretty face of yours."

And Sukuna is happy to obey. He eats you out devotedly. He worships your pussy. Licks it, kisses it, sniffs it, loves it with tender kisses and sweet suckles on your swollen clit, and fucks it with his tongue until you gasp his name and cum on his face.

You reach down afterward to tease his cock. Edging him, running a teasing fingertip over his swollen mushroom head and pressing it against his slit. Giving him a few slow pumps only to pull away again. Circling his tip lovingly, swooping up a pearl of pre-cum, and bringing your finger to your lips to taste him, moaning and praising him for how sweet he tastes.

You coo praise at him for being so strong, for being so good for you, for holding back so long. Sukuna's head is spinning. He is drowning in the warmth of your love, in the sweet comfort of your control over him. His cock throbs heavily, so close to busting his load. But your voice drifts to his ears,

"Uh uh, not yet, my love. Not yet. Take your time, baby. You've been working so hard those last few days. I need you to let go fully before you are allowed to cum. Free yourself from everything. Let go of work and your busy schedule. You aren't the CEO of SHRINE here in this room. You are my pet. You are my good boy. I own you, and I decide everything for you. You don't have to think anymore, Sukuna. I will tell you when to cum. Give yourself to me."

And he nods, breathing heavily as his cock throbs with pleasure and need. It would be easy for a strong man like Sukuna to slip out of his restraints and manhandle you, throw you on the bed, and fuck you into the mattress until he is satisfied. That knowledge somehow makes this whole scenario even more arousing. Because he knows he won't give in to these urges. He will be a good boy. He will be strong. He will hold back as long as you want him to. He isn't the one who decides things here. He is yours completely.

You smile at him, and your gaze travels over his body again until it stops on his hard cock.

"Look at that gorgeous cock of yours. So long, so thick, so strong. And all mine."

When you join him on the floor, Sukuna is already a mess, sweating and moaning, cock twitching needily, his balls sticky from all the pre-cum that ran down his length.

You get on your knees and put your small hands on his muscular thighs, caressing them tenderly as you slowly lean closer to blow air onto Sukuna's swollen wet cockhead, making him groan loudly.

"Aww, so cute for me, hm my prince? Can you be my good boy and cum on command? Can you cum just from me looking at your pretty cock?"

Your words make a low growl fall from Sukuna's lips as his balls tighten and his cock twitches. He gulps and looks at you, maroon eyes burning into yours as he nods,

"Yes, please let me show you how good I can be for you."

You smile and moan softly, your eyes clouded over by lust, and it makes Sukuna's stomach flutter and his heart throb. More pre-cum is trickling down his hot length and runs over his taut balls before it drips onto the carpet underneath him. And your eyes are on his cock and his balls, following that small rivulet of pre.

Your voice is a tender caress,

"Such a sweet boy for me."

Sukuna's muscles are taut, biceps flexed, wrists straining against the tie, pecs, and abs taut, his thighs clenched. Your words drive him crazy. And the feeling of your eyes on him, on his cock, makes his head spin.

There is something so demeaning about kneeling here on the floor, bound and horny, being told to cum on command, being told to cum untouched like some pathetic little virgin who never fucked his load into a woman.

But oh, how he loves it. How it gives him peace. How it turns him on. Sukuna can't help but roll his hips as if fucking into your tight cunt, rutting his cock against nothing, as a shaky moan falls from his lips.

Your hand cups his cheek and caresses it lovingly before it wanders down over his flexed pecs and biceps.

"You are so beautiful. Look at that pretty cock. Look how much you're leaking all over yourself."

His gaze travels down to his cock, and he groans loudly, seeing his angry dark pink, swollen cockhead, messy from all the precum. He feels and sees his cock twitch at the attention, so aroused that you are looking at him. And he feels his balls tightening, feels his thighs spread even more, and he knows he is close, so fucking close.

It's your voice that sends him over the edge,

"Now show me, baby. Show me how that pretty cock cums for me. Make a big mess all over yourself, Kuna. Cum for me. Now."

White hot lights fill his vision as he feels himself cum, cock twitching and shooting his hot cum all over himself in messy white ropes.

The sounds coming out of his mouth are sounds Sukuna would never let anyone else hear. Desperate whimpers and needy mewls, a shaky sob when his cock throbs and shoots another spurt of hot cum all over the carpet and his thighs.

You talk him through it, coo at him, praise him for being such a good boy, telling him how pretty he looks and how pretty his cock is when it shoots cum everywhere. How cute he is when he makes such a mess for you.

And Sukuna's head is spinning. He shoots his whole orgasm all over himself until his spent cock just twitches, but no cum comes out anymore.

He still moans when you make him clean it up, swooping up his cum from his abs and chest and feeding it to him from your fingers. And more moans fall from Sukuna's lips when you tug on his leash to make him lean down and lick his milky cum off the floor. He does so obediently, and when you tell him to open his mouth and stick his tongue out to show you that he really was a good boy and swallowed it all, he can't help but smile proudly.

He is happy, so happy when you praise him and when you take the tie of his wrists and hug him lovingly, praising him for being so good for you.

He feels pride surge through him, filling his every pore. Sukuna is a proud man through and through in all aspects of his life. Confident and self-assured, even arrogant most of the time. But nothing fills him with so much pride as this. Cumming untouched at your command.

This is his biggest accomplishment today. Not that he succeeded in snatching a lucrative business deal from the white-haired Gojo brat. Not that he poached one of the Zenin Group's most important partners. No, his biggest accomplishment today was that he was a good boy for you. The thing Sukuna is the most proud of is cumming exactly how you told him to.

He smiles proudly as he looks up at you. You smile back at him and run a hand through his hair, cocking your head and asking in a voice full of love,

"What do good boys say?"

And Sukuna's smile grows even bigger, and he says loud and clear in his smooth, velvety voice,

"Thank you."

His heart feels so full when you nod, and your eyes fill with pride. You pet him and lean down to kiss him on the lips. Lovingly and tender, showering him with affection.

Sukuna thinks no one in his small circle of people he considers his friends truly knows him. Not even Uraume, who has been his assistant for many years.

No one but you.

You know him. You know what he needs. You know what he needs on the days he comes home with a victorious glint in his eyes. You know what he needs when he comes home tired and stressed. And you also know what he needs when he comes home in a grumpy mood, complaining about work and all the incompetent fools he has to deal with all day.

"What's with that attitude, Sukuna? I think I have to put you in your place again."

Yes, you know exactly what he needs. He told you he wants you to be rougher with him whenever he is in one of those foul moods. That he wants you to rein him in on those days. Because you are the only person who can do that.

Your words instantly shut him up, and he feels himself already slipping into his submissive role as he smirks at you across the table and tells you in his low, velvety voice,

"I would be delighted if you showed me my place, my love."

Soon, his smirk is replaced by soft groans as Sukuna writhes on the bed.

Finally, he is free. He doesn't have to think but can only feel. He can let himself fall into this delicious mix of pain and pleasure, and you catch him with your love.

He is used to being in control. He is used to being a powerful man in his everyday work life. He is used to being a King, so to speak. But not here, not in your bedroom during a scene. Here you reign. Here you are, his Queen, and he is the obedient prince. A beloved, pretty pet.

You trail the leather paddle slowly over his skin. Just a teasing touch, a light caress, tracing his firm muscles while you admire his tall, muscular body spread out for you. Sukuna is breathing heavily, arousal and excited anticipation filling his veins. His cock is rock hard, trapped under his heavy body, pressing against the silky sensation of the bedsheets. Every inch of his skin is highly sensitive right now.

He knows the sweet pain will come any moment now. It makes him heady with lust. You have reached the top of his back, slowly trailing the paddle over his neck and the stubble of his undercut before you pull it away.

A loud, needy groan falls from Sukuna's lips at the same time that the loud slapping sound of the leather paddle connecting firmly with his ass cheeks fills the room.

Finally, he is falling. Finally, he is slipping into the sweet, delirious comfort of subspace. Bound to the bed, spread out for you, this tall, muscular man so utterly at your mercy. It is everything Sukuna needs.

Another firm slap lands on his ass, and Sukuna moans into the pillow. It's a feral sound, low and primal. He promised you to not hold back during your scenes, and he found that it's freeing to let it all out and be loud in bed and let you hear his unrestrained lust.

And your praise makes it even better. A soft hand lands on his firm ass cheek where you just spanked him a moment ago. Such a tender, soothing touch in stark contrast to the hard slap and the sting of the paddle. You caress his ass tenderly while you whisper to him,

"You are my good boy, Kuna. Doing so well for me. Are you ready for the next round? I'll do five this time. Do you think you can take it, baby?"

He nods,

"Yes, please. I'm ready. Please give me more."

It was never as easy and natural for him to beg as here in your bed.

Sukuna takes the spanking like the good boy that he is. He moans and growls and begs for more. And you spank him to an orgasm that makes him almost black out. With his buff muscles tensing up, his toned arms pulling at the restraints as his strong body shakes and trembles, his cock twitching beneath him, soaking the bed sheets with his hot cum, while he sobs into the pillow, a mix of your name and breathless thank yous.

You give him time before you untie him and tell him to turn on his back, joining him on the bed to spoil his cock with slow, thorough strokes until he is hard again and moaning and twitching. You finally straddle his lap and sink down on his throbbing length, riding him until you scream his name and cum on him with your warm cream gushing over him, pushing Sukuna over the edge, too, letting him fill your sweet cunt with his cum as a reward for being so good for you.

It's the end of a particularly stressful week, and Sukuna finds himself unable to relax. The book he wanted to read lies forgotten on the leather couch. He couldn't focus on the words. The hot bath he took didn't help him relax his tense muscles.

But then he hears the sound of the elevator followed by your footsteps as you walk into the penthouse, and he feels his skin tingle.

He is by your side only seconds later, wrapping his arms around you from behind, greeting you with a loving kiss on the neck and a murmured,

"I missed you, darling."

He has been looking forward to this Saturday evening. Has been craving it, knowing what he will get tonight because he worked so hard this week.

"Is my sweet prince ready to get all the stress fucked out of him?"

It's the ultimate level of submission in Sukuna's eyes. And the ultimate comfort.

Yes, Sukuna can be sweet. Yes, he can be submissive. Yes, he can be a good boy. And he proves it to you right there on the bed in a position that is so vulnerable but so freeing.

His face is resting on the dark red silk pillow, his thick muscular thighs are spread, exposing himself to you fully.

His cock is swollen, throbbing hard, pre-cum oozing needily out of his slit and running down his veiny length and into the silk sheets. His balls almost ache from how taut they are. Anytime you are about to peg him, he is so hard that he thinks he will faint.

But the feeling of the leather collar around his neck grounds him and gives him reassurance.

Sukuna groans softly when your hands trail slowly over his muscular back, caressing him, massaging his tense muscles, your voice so sweet and soothing while your lips trail kisses down his back,

"You are doing so well for me, baby. So beautiful."

Your praise makes his cock twitch, and a low groan spills from his lips. You finger him open, taking your sweet time with him, lubing his tight hole up thoroughly, gradually adding more fingers, and leaving gentle kisses on his back. Cooing at him when your fingertips rub against his prostate and needy moans fall from Sukuna's lips.

You pull away, but only to straddle the back of his thighs, leaning down over him to tease him with the slicked-up tip of the strap you are wearing. Rubbing lightly against Sukuna's lubed-up hole, driving him crazy, making him moan and whimper, sounds that he usually would never make. Your warm breath caresses his neck, and your lips brush tenderly over his skin,

"Are you ready for me, baby? Can my prince take my cock?"

His hole clenches at your words, his hips buck.

"Yes, please fuck me."

Sukuna almost can't take it anymore, head spinning from lust, sobs escaping his lips as he forces himself to hold back and not take but only receive as you keep teasing his lubed-up entrance with the tip of your strap, slowly stretching him open around the thick tip.

He gasps loudly when you push the dildo into him fully, his ass twitching around it, even as Sukuna's gasp turns into a hoarse groan.

"So cute. Such a good boy for me."

You sound breathless too, and a moment later, you roll your hips into him, beginning with a slow but deep pace, fucking Sukuna with deep strokes that make both of you moan.

Soon, the pace becomes faster and harder, the tip of the dildo hitting Sukuna's sensitive prostate unrelentingly, making him see stars.

A wild, loud moan falls from his lips, uncontrolled, desperate, full of lust and pain and raw need.

He needs this today. This was a stressful week. He needs to get fucked rough. Needs to get dicked down hard. Needs to get wrecked.

And you give him everything he needs. You fuck him with punishing hard thrusts, torturing his prostate with your thick strap, making Sukuna's body tremble beneath you, making him sob and whine into the pillow, the pillowcase wet from his spit and even some tears.

Instinctively, he begins to rut against the mattress, grinding his leaking cock needily against it. But a firm slap lands on his right ass cheek.

"Stop that. Good boys don't need their cocks rubbed. And you are a good boy, Sukuna, aren't you? You are my very, very good boy, right baby? A good boy like you cums just from my strap, right?"

He nods wildly, sobbing as he answers you, his voice almost unrecognizable, higher than usual, full of tears and raw need,

"Y.. yes! Yes, I am your good boy! Please, please...let me cum on your cock! I won't disobey!"

You moan softly at his plea. Your warm hands run up his muscular back, caressing him, every touch making his cock throb. And you go slow, so slow, pulling the dildo out of him almost completely, making Sukuna whine loudly. But he instantly shuts up when you tug on his leash. He grits his teeth and forces himself to stay still, giving himself to you, waiting for you patiently.

Anything to be a good boy for you. Not demanding anything, not taking anything. That isn't his place, and he knows it. He is here to receive. To give himself to you completely. He forces himself to calm his breathing, relaxing his flexed muscles, and you reward him with a whispered,

"Aww, yes, just like that, baby. So good for me. I trained you so well, hm? Now take it, baby."

And you roll your hips into him, pushing the thick dildo back all the way into Sukuna's tight ass, making him moan, loud and broken, as his strong body shudders under you.

You laugh softly and grind your hips against him, rotating them slowly, rubbing the dildo against his prostate, sending shock wave after shock wave of bliss through him. And Sukuna cries out, unable to hold back. But no words are leaving his lips. At this point, he is unable to form them, only loud, unintelligible, needy cries and whiny moans.

He knows he won't last long now, can already feel the familiar tightening in his heavy balls, can feel the pressure inside him build almost unbearably. His muscles flex again, and you moan his name, full of love, followed by the command he needed to hear so badly,

"Aww, yes, Kuna. You're so good for me. You can cum on my cock now, baby."

And he does. Crying out loudly, a wet, unrestrained, desperate sound full of tears of bliss. His ass clenches hard around your strap, his strong body shuddering from wave after wave of a world-shattering prostate orgasm ripping through him. His cock pulses copious amounts of hot sticky seed onto the already stained sheets. Testament to the bliss he found here.

You lean down to kiss his neck gently, trailing tender kisses all over his broad back, fucking him slowly through his orgasm, moaning when you cum on the strap, too, just a few seconds later.

Sukuna closes his eyes and feels some hot tears slip out of the corners of his eyes as you snuggle against him, resting on his broad back, the dildo still buried deeply inside him, and you caress him, cuddle him, and whisper sweet praise to him, telling him how much you love him. And he knows he is in heaven here with you. No matter how stressful his life as a CEO is, he can endure it because he can come home to you and let you take care of him.

To everyone else, Sukuna is the feared alpha male. But to you, he is your good boy, and that's a fact that can get him through any workday.

He will continue to expand his business empire. He will acquire new business partners. He will go to countless meetings and negotiate contract after contract. Sukuna will work hard to make his company the best in the whole country.

But only if he knows he can be on his knees for you every night with the leather collar around his neck and your fingers petting his hair while you call him your good boy. Only when every Saturday he is allowed to cum on your strap.

His success is just as much your success. Because without you, Sukuna couldn't be the man he needs to be.

This was the first time I wrote submissive Sukuna, and it was so much fun!! IT WAS SO EXHILARATING TO WRITE THIS FIC!! Thank you so much to the sweet anon who sent me the ask about my thoughts on sub!Sukuna. He is SUCH a good boy ;) I want to hear him whimper and sob so bad!!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

[skyenish]

| Diasomnia Harpy Hare animatic 🐉🦇⚔️ 🐊 | Book 7 spoilers |

——

This was one big project, but I love how it came out! I’m fairly new to coloring and rendering, so this was quite the task for me. I’ve discovered that Diasomnia isn’t as hard to draw as I thought (except you Silver, you were very difficult to draw). Shoutout to @soleilthedeity (currently banned) for helping me come up with ideas! I hope you guys enjoy the animatic :)

——

Malleus is an interesting character, because let’s be honest, he has the emotional maturity of a teaspoon, and I say that affectionately. He’s got a superiority complex, but can you blame him? He’s the crown prince of Briar Valley, naturally he’d at least subconsciously believe that he’s better than others! He pushes people away, not on purpose of course, which leaves him feeling very lonely. People are scared of him, but I feel like Malleus doesn’t completely understand why, what he’s doing wrong. Lilia was never scared of him though, and when he met Yuu, who wasn’t scared of him, he found them amusing, and that amusement slowly grew into affection. He grew attached to them. When he got the news that both Lilia and Yuu were leaving him soon, he felt like that new happiness Yuu gave him and the comfort of Lilia was all going to be ripped away. He doesn’t want to face the idea of things ending, of being alone. But nothing lasts forever.

Worse even is that as prince of Briar Valley, he’s incredibly powerful. His powers are supposed to keep his subjects happy, and he’s used to being able to do pretty much anything with his powers. But he can’t save Lilia, he can’t make him younger, make him healthy, make him stay. In a sense, his overblot kills three birds with one stone! Lilia doesn’t die, Yuu doesn’t leave, and he won’t ever be alone. Plus, they’ll all be “happy”! Except Malleus’ understanding of happiness is shallow, he doesn’t quite grasp it properly. Of course, like all the others, what they did was wrong, but like all the others, I empathize with them and understand why they did what they did. I can relate to Malleus, his desperation, his fear, because at the end of the day he’s still just a child who is going to outgrow everyone he loves.

(Since I play English and read the spoilers, my information/analysis might be wrong! If that’s the case, definitely let me know in the comments. This is all also just my interpretation, so if you disagree with my takes I’d love to hear your interpretation and thoughts!)

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: The beginning

This Is Chapter 1 (masterlist)

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The Inner Circle noticed the change in Azriel almost immediately.

It started subtly. A missed meeting here, a late arrival there. At first, they chalked it up to his duties as the spymaster, knowing full well how deeply he was entangled in the shadows of Velaris and beyond. But as the days turned into weeks, Azriel’s absences grew more frequent, his presence more elusive.

Cassian was the first to voice his concern. “Anyone else noticed how Azriel’s been… disappearing?” he asked, frowning over the rim of his glass. They were gathered in the River House, the warmth of the hearth doing little to dispel the chill that had settled in the room.

Rhysand exchanged a glance with Feyre, his brow furrowed. “I’ve noticed,” he admitted. “But every time I reach out through the daemati, he’s always quick to assure me everything is fine. He’s been more secretive than usual, though.”

Mor, who had been unusually quiet, leaned forward, her eyes shadowed with worry. “I tried to ask him directly last week. He brushed me off, said it was nothing, just more work than usual. But… he looked exhausted, Rhys.”

It was true. When they did see Azriel, it was only for brief moments. He’d sweep in, dark circles under his eyes, his normally impeccable leathers rumpled as if he’d been up all night. He would give them a tight smile, exchange a few clipped words or go to his nephews, and then vanish again into the night. Even his shadows seemed quieter, more subdued, clinging to him like they too were weighed down by something unseen.

Feyre couldn’t shake the image of Azriel from her mind—the way he’d barely touched his food the last time they’d all sat down to dinner together, the way he’d flinched when Mor tried to touch his arm. There was something wrong, something deeply troubling, and it gnawed at her.

“I don’t like this,” Feyre said softly, her hand resting on the swell of her abdomen. “Azriel never lies to us, but it feels like he’s hiding something. Something big.”

Cassian’s hand clenched into a fist. “I’m going to drag him here if I have to. We need answers.”

But when Cassian did confront Azriel, it was like trying to catch smoke. The spymaster simply shrugged him off, his face impassive, his hazel eyes cold. “I’m fine, Cass. Just busy.”

“You look like death warmed over, Az. What’s going on?” Cassian pressed, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, shadows curling protectively around him. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

And that was the end of it. No matter how much Cassian prodded, how much Mor pleaded, how much Rhys tried to subtly pry into his mind, Azriel remained a stone wall. Implacable. Unyielding. Denying every question with the same cold, tired detachment.

It wasn’t until one particularly stormy night that Feyre finally cornered him. Azriel had returned to the River House, drenched from the rain, his normally sharp wings drooping with fatigue. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face gaunt, his eyes haunted.

Feyre intercepted him at the door, blocking his path with her small frame. “Azriel,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “We need to talk.”

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something like guilt, or maybe fear. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, impenetrable mask. “There’s nothing to talk about, Feyre.”

She didn’t move. “Please, Az. We’re all worried about you. You’re hiding something, and it’s tearing you apart. Let us help.”

For a long, tense moment, he simply stared at her, the rain dripping from his hair onto the polished floor. Feyre held her breath, praying he would open up, let her in, let someone in. But then his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Feyre. But I can’t. Not yet.”

And with that, he slipped past her, leaving her standing in the doorway, her heart heavy with a growing dread.

Whatever Azriel was hiding, it was tearing him apart. And if he didn’t let them in soon, Feyre feared it would destroy him.

The Inner Circle was united in their concern, but despite their best efforts, Azriel remained a ghost in their lives, always on the periphery, always slipping through their fingers.

It was Rhys who finally voiced what they were all thinking, his voice a low, worried murmur as they gathered in the dim light of the sitting room. “Whatever it is… it’s only a matter of time before it comes crashing down on him. And when it does, he'll open.”

They nodded in agreement, but a shared, unspoken fear hung heavy in the air: would Azriel let them catch him when he finally fell?

---

Dinner at the River House was usually a time of comfort and camaraderie, a rare moment when the Inner Circle could gather without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders. But tonight, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a cold, uneasy silence. The kids played outside as the adults sat.

Azriel sat at the far end of the table, his plate barely touched. He pushed the food around absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. His face was shadowed, his eyes distant, and the weariness that had been growing in him for weeks was more pronounced than ever.

Feyre noticed the way his gaze flicked to the windows, as if he was counting the minutes until he could leave. Cassian and Mor exchanged worried glances, and Rhysand’s brows drew together in a frown.

They all felt it—the growing distance, the secrets he was keeping. But tonight wasn’t the night to push him further. Not when he looked so close to breaking.

“Azriel,” Feyre said gently as the meal drew to a close, “You barely ate. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Azriel looked up, his expression neutral but his eyes giving away his exhaustion. “I’m fine, Feyre. Just tired.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Azriel stood, the movement abrupt. “I need to go,” he muttered, already turning toward the door. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

“Az—” Rhysand started, but Azriel was already halfway out of the room.

“Goodnight,” Azriel tossed over his shoulder, his voice a distant echo as he disappeared into the night, leaving the Inner Circle staring after him in stunned silence.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a wave, clearing some of the fog from his mind. Without pausing, Azriel unfurled his wings and launched himself into the sky, the wind whipping through his hair as he flew faster, higher, needing to escape the concerned looks, the unspoken questions, the suffocating worry.

He flew over the glittering city of Velaris, its lights twinkling like stars reflected in the Sidra River. But he didn’t linger. He angled his wings and veered away, heading towards the mountains, towards the darkness that loomed just beyond the city’s borders.

The Hewn City was a stark contrast to Velaris, a place where shadows reigned and light was a rare commodity. Even from the sky, Azriel could feel the oppressive weight of the city, the malice that seeped from its very stones. But he didn’t hesitate. He descended into one of the darker parts of the city, where the narrow alleys were shrouded in perpetual twilight, where even the bravest of souls dared not tread.

Azriel landed silently in one such alley, the shadows welcoming him as an old friend. He folded his wings and moved quickly, his footsteps barely a whisper on the cobblestones. The buildings here were ancient, their facades cracked and worn, their windows dark and uninviting. But Azriel knew exactly where he was going.

At the end of the alley was a narrow staircase, worn smooth by centuries of use. He climbed it swiftly, his heartbeat quickening with each step. When he reached the top floor, he paused, gathering himself. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

The apartment was small, barely more than a single room with a bed pushed against one wall and a fireplace that cast a warm, flickering glow across the space. But to Azriel, it was a sanctuary. A place where the world’s troubles fell away, where he could be someone other than the Spymaster of Night Court.

And there, in the center of the room, was the reason he kept coming back.

YN, his love, his secret, his everything, was standing by the window, bathed in the soft light of the fire. She was smaller than him by far, her frame delicate, her own scars glowing, her features soft and kind in a way that was the exact opposite of the harshness of the world he knew. Her eyes, so full of warmth and love, lit up when she saw him, a smile spreading across her lips.

But there was a reason Azriel had never mentioned her to the Inner Circle, why he kept this part of his life hidden even from those he trusted most. YN worked under one of the pleasure homes in the Hewn City, forced into servitude under the command of the Hewn City’s lords. It was a dark and cruel existence, one that Azriel despised with every fibre of his being.

The idea of the Inner Circle knowing the truth—that the woman he loved was bound to such a place—was unbearable. He had seen too much darkness in his life, and the thought of exposing YN to the judgment, pity, or even the well-intentioned attempts to “rescue” her from that life, filled him with dread.

But here, in the quiet of this small apartment, she wasn’t the servant of cruel masters. She was just YN, the woman who had captured his heart despite everything, who had chosen him despite the four hundred and fifty years that separated them.

And in her arms was their newborn son, Knox, a tiny, perfect symbol of the life they had created together despite the odds.

The infant was only two weeks old, a small bundle of life that had already become Azriel’s anchor. Knox was asleep, his small, peaceful face a reminder of all that was good and pure in the world. Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them.

This was why he disappeared every night. This was the secret he guarded so fiercely, the reason for his exhaustion, his distraction. This was the life he had built in the shadows, away from the eyes of the world.

YN walked over to him, her steps light and sure. “You look tired,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his face, her fingers brushing against the dark circles under his eyes.

“I am,” Azriel admitted, his voice rough with emotion. He let her touch ground him, pulling him out of the dark places in his mind and back into the light of her presence. “But seeing you… seeing him… it makes it all worth it.”

YN’s smile was soft, her eyes filled with a love so deep it made his heart ache. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” she whispered. “I told you that if coming here after work is too much stay in Velaris for the night.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, savouring the warmth that radiated from her. He knew she was right, but the weight of his responsibilities, the need to protect them, to keep them safe from the dangers he faced daily, made it hard to let go. “I just want to keep you both safe. And need you,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

YN reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her touch gentle but firm. “You already do,” she whispered against his mouth. “Just being here, being with us… that’s all we need, just as much as you need us.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her, careful not to disturb Knox, who slept on, blissfully unaware of the world’s troubles. He held them both close, feeling the tension that had been coiled inside him begin to unravel. In this small, hidden room, in the arms of the woman he loved and with his son safe in her embrace, Azriel finally allowed himself to breathe.

For now, the shadows could wait. Here, in the warmth of their love, he was home. And this home is just the beginning of their secrets...

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[golden-ebony]

Man Eater (1) 𓆩♡𓆪

♡ Series Masterlist ♡

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/Fem!Vigilante!Reader

♡ Word Count: 4.4k

♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)

♡ Warning/Tags: suggestions of child/adult abuse (no detail), mentions of violence (little detail), mutant/vigilante reader, suggestive language, Logan being a lil flirty menace (i love it)

♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable

♡ Note: reader has the same power as Diego from Umbrella Academy which I just summarized as projectile manipulation. also! this is a plotline i've fiddled with for years across different marvel characters and i finally found a way to make it work! i'd expect more parts because it'd looovvvve to tease Logan

Logan stood out of apartment 404 of a modern apartment building. Given the fact that Charles told him to come here to retrieve what he had described as a vigilante who could use some guidance. Yet, he was surprised to see such a dangerous person living in such a swanky place. It was none of his business, he thought.

He pounded on the door. No one answered. He groaned, pounding the door again, “Hey! Anyone home?” He heard the slightest of footsteps before hearing a voice.

“I’d be careful about pounding on a stranger's door,” you called back in a short tone. A woman, Logan thought.

“Oh, why’s that?” Logan scoffed, folding his arms over his chest.

You cocked your shotgun loudly enough for Logan to hear. You aimed it toward the door, “You never know where you might find trouble.”

Logan lowly chuckled to himself. He went to open the door; to his surprise, it was unlocked. He slowly pushed it open. There stood you, a double-barrel shotgun aimed toward Logan’s head. “Trouble, yeah?”

He glanced at you, not intimidated by the shotgun as he didn’t even attempt to move from the line of fire. You didn’t back down, still aiming the gun at his head, “Not scared of a little lead between your eyes?”

Logan closed the door, assuming you didn’t want your fancy neighbors seeing you about to gun down a man. Couldn’t bear to splatter his brains onto the community hallway. “Lead? Nah, I’ve dealt with a lot worse.” he smirked, casually leaning against the door.

Your eyes narrowed in his direction; no one came to your door. Ever. You took a deep breath, tilting your head in curiosity with the man in front of you. It was never your intention to know him, but you did. You slightly lowered the gun, “You're like me.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Depends. What’cha mean by that?”

“I mean what I mean.”

He sighed, his breath dripping with annoyance, “Kid, I don’t do riddles. Spit it out before you piss me off.”

“You, Logan, are a mutant,” you spat while completely lowering your gun further. You knew you didn’t have the firepower to take him down. “The Wolverine.” Your voice was song-like as you teased him with an eye roll.

He was surprised by your blunt answer; he was even more surprised by the fact that you knew what—who he was without any additional prompts. He chuckled in mild disbelief, “What? You a telepath or something?”

You chuckled, crossing your arms over your chest, “No…but Stryker used to talk about you allll the time,” you teased, striking a deep nerve in Logan.

His fists clenched as he stood up straighter. He appeared defensive as if this was all an elaborate set up by Stryker somehow. If it wasn’t Charles that had sent him, he would have let his mind go there. Yet, it didn’t feel like Charles sending him to this apartment was a coincidence either. Still, looking at you, you looked too young to be around when Stryker was at his peak.

“You know Stryker? How old are you?” By his demanding tone, you knew Logan wasn’t messing around anymore.

You leaned against the arm of the couch, “The only thing Stryker loved more than having mutants do his bidding was perfecting his soldiers,” you bit the inside of your cheek to maintain your composure, “but you? Ohh, you were his favorite. You broke the mold and all he wanted to do was put that perfect mold back together.” You spoke with a disdain that Logan couldn’t figure if it was directed towards Stryker or him. His gut was telling him both.

“I was only sixteen when Styker found me. He called me his best gun.”

That piqued his interest, “Why’s that?”

As Logan finished his sentence, you threw a spear point knife in Logan’s direction. Before he had a chance to react, the knife banked left into a wooden board hanging on the wall. Logan approached the small board, seeing the multiple knife marks wedged into it. It was out of place compared to the pricier art work that adorned the walls. He huffed turning back to you.

“You control metal, too?” he snarked, hoping Charles didn’t send him to find the second coming of Erik.

“Projectile manipulation—knives, bullets, really anything that’s airborne,” you explained. “But that isn’t enough for Stryker…I can’t explain how he did it, but he was hellbent on making me practically immortal…kinda like you. It took him a couple of years. The trials were…” your voice drifted off as the pang of dread filled your chest. 

Logan felt for you, imagining you at sixteen under the oppressive thumb of Stryker. Your eyes wavered from his for the first time. Although Logan was probably one of the few people left in the world that he had any clue what you had been through—the things you were probably made to do—you didn't appear to want his sympathy.

“But you’re out,” Logan stated, trying to offer some semblance of perspective, “Obviously doing your own thing—things Stryker never would have approved of.”

“That’s because I killed him when I escaped.”

Your words heavily weighed on him. He had been looking for Stryker on his own for a while. He raced down every lead on his own time—pulled every thread, turned over every stone. He just assumed that Stryker was alive somewhere underground.

Though shocked, he was impressed, “So you weren’t just a lab rat, you had some fire in you, huh?”

Slowly approaching Logan, your stare was intense. “Unlike you, I had the balls to do something about Stryker instead of just leaving,” you spat.

Logan’s jaw clenched. His patience became thin as he took a step toward you as well, making you well aware of your size difference. “You don’t know me, sweetheart. I don’t have to explain myself to you, so don’t you go around acting all holier than thou.” Truthfully, it did cross Logan’s mind. He hadn’t seen Stryker in decades. But if he had ended him when he had left, how many lives would be unchanged? Looking at you now hearing the hurt in your voice, he was face-to-face with his unconfirmed yet biggest regret. “You’ve got no goddamn idea what I’ve been through!”His tone was gruff and curt.

Like a slap, you chuckled at his remarks. “Right, sixteen year old female lab rat? Gotta be a walk in the park,” you muttered under your breath. Logan’s imagination didn’t have to stretch far to figure what you had gone through, not just in the field but in the lab, too. You roughly brushed past him and pulled your knife out of the wall, securing it in the sleeve, “But you didn’t pound on my door to talk about Stryker, did you?”

Logan dug his hands into his pockets as you walked back into his view, “I came to talk about what you did—what you do. Your little ‘heroics’ as a vigilante.”

You hummed, “And?”

“They’ve been noticed.” He took out a flask before taking a swig of it. He glanced back to you. “I’m here to assess whether you’re a threat or not.”

“And the verdict?”

His eyes narrowed, analyzing you from head to toe. You assumed he was analyzing how many weapons you had on you. He pulled out his phone, showing you an array of photos.

They were photos of you from various nights with different dates with a variety of men. The police called them victims. You had more…colorful language to describe these men. In some photos, your hair was brown and short, black and long and so on. 

“They aren’t dead, you know,” you feigned innocence with an insincere pout and wide eyes.

The level of violence would suggest otherwise. “No, just close.”

You hummed before taking Logan’s flask, taking a drink from it. He didn’t stop you. “Then I’m sure you know what they did to deserve this, Wolvie.” He knew the general idea, but he looked at you for an answer. You swiped through the photos. Some of them were surveillance, others were crime scene photos. “Phil Stanford: beat his wife so badly that she lost her baby in the second trimester. Jones Hill: almost drowned his girlfriend’s child just to teach her a lesson. And these guys? They passed around their intern to each other like she was a piece of meat.”

You showed Logan each crime scene photo. You remembered every single one like you got the assignment yesterday, remembered the satisfaction of leaving the hotel rooms that they paid for. Awaiting his reprimand, you took another swig before giving it back.

“Look, sweetheart, I get it,” Logan admitted. You raised your brows in surprise, but now, the reason for this visit felt clear. “The Man Eater; it’s fitting.”

“I didn’t give myself that name.”

“It sticked though.”

“Why are you really here? Did Charles send you?” Your question, again, surprised Logan. Was there anything you didn’t already know, Logan thought as he took another drink.

“You know Charles, too, huh? How long?”

You shrugged, “Like 20 something years. He’s always trying to sell me on the whole family and team shit. I never bought it; I’m better on my own. Still, Charles was always good to me when our paths crossed.”

Logan noticed your body tense when you mentioned family. He understood though. “I thought the same thing a few years ago before Charles found me. I was wrong,” Logan admitted. You could tell that it took at least a little bit out of him to admit that; vulnerability was clearly not his forte. Logan just thought you were lying to yourself.

“Charles and I had an agreement where he’d never get in my mind again. But instead, he sends a Stryker experiment, like myself, not only for him to determine if I’m a threat to what I can only assume is how the public views mutants but also to remind me that I shouldn’t be going through life alone, right?”

There wasn’t much for him to say; you had said it all. Instead, he offered you his flask. He only nodded at your statement as you took the flask. You couldn’t say that you were surprised that Charles used this specific tactic. He definitely didn’t have to get into your mind to play mind games.

You took a final swig from the container, taking the last drop of the liquor, “Did you also send you to bring me to the mansion?”

“Charles said that you may not come willingly; I told him that I’d do what I can. Even if that was just to extend the invite.”

You chuckled to yourself, “You never truly escape the grasp of Charles Xavier.” You pulled a coat off the hook near Logan. “But I guess we’re due for a reunion. I’ll go with you…peacefully even.”

Logan grunted slightly. He had no plans of forcing or fighting with you, even before he met you. Though, he was curious how you’d fare in a fight. The photos indicated you were brutal, having the ability to leave someone on the brink of death. Yet, Logan doubted that any of these men saw it coming. Getting a look at you today, he was sure the men were just excited to be in the company of a beautiful woman. Like a siren, he was sure he could be lured by you.

“Good,” he muttered, as he watched you open your apartment door, trotting out of it.

You followed Logan outside, immediately eyeing the bike he was approaching, “That bike yours?”

He nodded, looking at the bike. He had left it in a nearby parking lot. It was a black and silver Harley Davidson motorcycle and a damn expensive one. He turned to look at you, “Yeah, you ever been on a motorcycle?”

”I’ve had a few Harleys in my lifetime,” you mentioned, your hand slowly grazing over the bike and the leather of the seats. “Went to Milwaukee and got one off the line back in the 90s.”

He lifted an eyebrow, looking mildly surprised. He hadn’t expected that. He slowly walked over the bike, getting ready to mount it. He looked back at you with a smirk, “So, you’re a Harley girl?”

You mounted the back, testing out the suspension, “Show me any bike and I’ll show a Harley that does it better.”

He laughed as he watched you get comfortable on his bike, “You think Harley’s better than a Triumph? Hell, you think Harley’s are better than a Ducati?” He mounted the bike and pulled out his key.

“Nothing’s beating American-made, baby,” you shrugged with a smile. You could tell how amused Logan as he shook his head “That’s why I got one in the garage and two in storage. A Street 750, LiveWire, and a Fat Boy.”

He slowly looked over his shoulder again to look at you, obviously impressed. You had good taste. “And you can handle all that, princess?”

“You’d be surprised what I can handle, Wolvie,” you lowly spoke, maintaining eye contact until he went to turn the engine. 

“Then you know the drill.” The engine added a layer of low rumble to his voice. “Hold on, sweetheart.”

You did as you were told, wrapping your arms around his brown leather jacket to connect around his waist. With it being cold out, you almost audibly sighed when you felt the warmth radiating off of him. It was combined with the slight scent of mahogany, pine, and smoke.

Logan kicked the stand up before speeding off. You held on a little tighter as he sped up and weaved through traffic. Logan felt pleased with himself as he felt you gripping him tighter. He weaved through traffic, unconcerned with the angry car drivers he was surely pissing off. You couldn’t sit there and say you hadn’t done the same, but Logan had no reason to be in this much of a rush. You believed that he just liked being an asshole.

Once out of the city, the roads to the mansion began looking familiar. More into the countryside, traffic lessened and Logan’s speeds picked up. As you approached, you could begin to feel the raindrops begin to fall from the sky. You looked up to see the clouds threatening to release a storm. Luckily, Logan was quick to pull into the garage of the mansion before it began to downpour. Logan pulled up to the garage, parking the bike and killing the engine. 

“You ride like an asshole,” you spat as you dismounted off the bike. 

Logan was amused with you snapping at him, “And if I waited in traffic, we would’ve got caught in that rain and it would've drench that little white tee of yours.” He let down the kickstand. A smirk formed across Logan’s lips as he turned back to see you still standing by the bike. His eyes clearly raked your body, “Actually, maybe I should’ve waited.”

You scoffed as you watched him dismound. “I’m assuming Charles is still in the room at the end of the hall on the top floor to the left?” You opted to just change the subject.

“You know this place well, don’t you?” Logan asked as he walked you out of the garage to the inside of  the mansion. 

It was exactly how you remembered it, “Well enough. I met Charles back when he wanted to make this place a school. Make it a safe haven for children like us, he’d say.” You thought it was fun pipe-dream at the time, believing there couldn’t be a safe space for mutants. He was obviously more optimistic than you ever were. “Some things have changed here, but it’s practically timeless.

Logan led you up the stairs, “So, you keep coming back, but you never stay.” 

“Like I said, I’m better alone.”

“Sure you are,” he muttered under his breath. You could still pick up on the sass in his voice. You shot him a glare. “You’re better alone, yet you jump at the chance to see the man who has been pestering you for years? You like him checking up on you? Showing you he cares?”

You didn’t immediately respond as you two walked the hallways. The sound of the rain  colliding with the roof filled the space instead. There weren’t many contant people in your life. When you first met Charles, he could tell he genuinely cared. He wouldn’t keep checking in if he didn’t care. You just weren’t sure if you had the capacity to care in that same way. It felt easier not to.

“It’s complicated,” you sighed as you approached Charles’s room.

“Not that complicated,” Logan mumbled before knocking on the door and pushing it open.

Charles greeted you and Logan before the door was fully opened. You entered both annoyed and relieved to see your old friend. You hadn’t seen him in about 3 years

Logan entered behind you. He stepped quietly to avoid drawing attention to himself for the moment. Charles slowly looked up from the book he was reading and smiled softly. He looked happy to see you again.

“It’s nice to see you again, my dear. Come in, have a seat,” you offered, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk.

“I think I’ll stand,” you replied, still approaching him. “You sent one of your lackeys to come get me?” you asked as you pointed toward Logan.

Logan gave a huff of annoyance at the word lackey; it felt borderline disrespectful. Charles gave a heavy sigh, looking unbothered by your question.

“I did, but I believe I said that we’d speak again soon the last time we were together,” Charles reminded you. “I told you living alone was no way to live. The world is a dangerous place. Surely you know that, my dear. I just think it would be safer if you were here, with us, where you’re protected.”

“I don’t need protection,” you huffed.

“Not physically. You still need people—connection.” You felt like the conversation was a broken record, yet you always listened. “You have no one, my dear. No friends or loved ones—”

“Not true, we’ve been friends for over 20 years, and I’ll even consider making Logan a friend to mentally protect myself,” you cut him off, trying to humor the conversation. Charles was not amused. Logan was though.

Charles sighed. He could see that you were frustrated and being stubborn, masking it with humor. He knew you had always been a lone wolf. He had hoped that maybe time would change that, but obviously not.

“Is this truly how you want to live out your days? Alone?”

You glanced over to Logan who was also staring at you, “I already explained this to Wolvie. And thanks for sending him. I’m sure it was a meeting that Stryker would have loved seeing.”

Logan was listening to the interaction, though he was trying to keep his mouth shut. Charles could see that he was teeming with his own opinions, and decided to speak in his own defense.

“I thought Logan would be a good choice. He can deal with your stubbornness,” Charles admitted.

“You knew that I wouldn’t be able to kill him.”

Charles sighed again, knowing a part of that was true. You were more of a shoot first, ask questions later kind of girl. He wasn’t going to outright agree with your statement. He knew it would cause more conflict, but Logan spoke up, unable to stop himself.

“You didn’t even try, princess. Going soft?” he teased from the peanut gallery of the conversation.

Looking over your shoulder, you glared at him, “Fresh out of adamantium bullets; might need to invest now.”

Logan's chuckle at your response got lost in the rumble of the thunder. He was just enjoying this interaction between you and Charles. Getting a rise out of you was just a bonus.

You do protect others,” Charles interrupted. Knowing both you and Logan, he figured you two could bicker for hours if given the chance. “You can do that here.”

“I don’t think you want me running my work out of this place, right?”

“No,” he simply stated, “but our students—our future students—don’t always come from the best homes…you may not need us, but we need you, dear.” 

You hated to admit it, but that stuck with you. Your home life wasn’t good. Yet, it paled in comparison to your life with Stryker. You waited for help that never came. The number of unanswered prayers you had shot up always fell flat. Being the help for someone like you? It spoke to you.

You slightly paced, thinking while the storm outside roared, “I’m not a good team player, Charles. I’ve given it a try and it’s not my cup of tea. I appreciate the offer, but I think I oughta go home.” Near the end of your sentence, the loud rumble of the thunder made you jump.

Logan smirked slightly when he saw you jump. He took note of this, an idea forming in his mind. The storm was pretty intense outside, the rain pouring and thunder roaring. Logan spoke up, his tone slightly amused.

“You gonna run through that, princess?”

You huffed as, again, Logan had a point. You looked at the window, the wind whipping the rain in all directions. You groaned to yourself and paced back toward Charles.

“How about I stay the night and think about it?” you offered. For the first time in 20 years, you were on the fence instead of jetting home.

Charles had some gleam of hope. You were appearing to give this more consideration than you had in the past. “That’s a good idea, my dear. You can spend the night, think about it, and I’ll talk to you again in the morning. How does that sound?”

“Peachy,” your tone was short.

Charles chose not to comment on your attitude; you were here and that was a lot farther than he's ever gotten. “Very good…I expect we’ll be able to speak again in the morning. Logan, do you mind showing our guest her room for the night?”

You rolled your eyes before turning to look at the gruff man standing against the wall near the door. Logan chuckled slightly as you turned to look at him. He appreciated how cute you looked when you were upset. 

He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and walked over to you, that signature smirk on his face. “Well, come on, princess. I’ll show you to your room.”

You rolled your eyes as you allowed Logan to exit the room first. Logan led you down the hallway, passing rooms where students were staying. Some were roaming the hallways as well. There were a lot of them, all different ages and different powers, all just…happy. Logan glanced back at you, noticing how jarring the amount kids must be to you.

“Not used to being around this many kids, huh?” Logan asked.

You shook your head, “You just live with all these kids?

Logan chuckled, continuing to lead you down the hallway. He shrugged, “Eh, it ain’t too bad. It was a lot at first, but they’re good kids. And Charles is right, they need someone like you. Someone who’s skilled and gives a shit.”

You could see the sense of pride and protectiveness Logan had for the children just by the way he looked at them. For the first time in years, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t even know your heart could do that anymore. The little smiles and greetings he got secretly warmed your heart. “And the kids seem to like you.”

He chuckled again, “You sound surprised.”

“Well, you just seem to have an asshole vibe rather than a nurturing one.”

Logan shrugged, “There are enough people here that baby them. I ain’t one of them. I imagine you being the same way, sweetheart.”

You passed a group of older female students, all of them saying hi to ‘Mr. Logan’ before erupting into fits of giggles. Logan didn’t pay it any mind. Glancing over your shoulder as they walked by, you could recognize the teasing of girls with crushes.

“Ohhh, I’m sure the girls love it,” you teased.

Logan lowly laughed at your little comment, “They have their little crushes. Not only do they love it, they also think I'm a pretty damn good looking guy too, princess.”

You felt like gagging at his response, “They’ll grow out of it,” you retorted as you approached the guest room.

Logan chuckled again. He was just enjoying your banter and entertained how you responded to him each time. He was amused by your scoffing and eye rolls. He opened the door to your room, watching you closely as you walked in.

“I doubt it, princess. Most women seem to love me damn well into adulthood.

“Oh yeah? You’re just too damn irresistible? They just can’t help themselves?” The layer of sarcasm on your words was thick.

Your words were only fueling his ego and that damn smirk on his face. He leaned against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing you. “Just ask all the women I’ve been with. Not a one that didn’t want more.”

As irritating as Logan was to you in this moment, it was something to do—someone to mess with. You approached him, your eyes gazing into his, until your hands were pressed against his chest. You felt his breath hitch against your palms. You leaned up to whisper into his ear, “You keep telling yourself that, Wolvie.”

Logan let out a bit of a grumble at your words, his hands gripping the doorframe to control himself. “You think I’m lying?”

You allowed your finger to dance across his chest, noticing the prominent definition of it, “I just think you overestimate your own…abilities…”

“Sweetheart, I think I can prove damn well that I don't have to overestimate anything…" His voice was low. His eyes wandered to your heaving chest, knowing he had an effect on you, whether you wanted to admit it or not.

Your eyes narrowed, “What are you? The mansion’s welcome wagon concubine?”

“It’s a new…package offered with the welcome wagon.”

You slyly smiled. With your hands on his chest, you pushed him with enough force to push him into the hallway, despite his grip on the frame. “Good night, Logan.” 

You closed the door in Logan’s face before he could make another snide remark. Finally letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you could hear the hearty yet low laugh from Logan on the other side of the door. 

You hated how fluttered Logan made, how he made your heart race. He was shameless with his flirtations. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving in, no matter how tempting it was. He needed to be knocked down a peg. Still, it was hard to ignore the heat between your legs.

Logan was still outside in the hallway, standing right outside your door and still chuckling to himself. He could feel the heat that formed when he was pressed so close to you; he hadn’t felt like that in a long time. He smirked and shook his head. He was going to have some damn fun with you…

note: I'd love to do a part 2! tell me your thoughts♡

𓆩♡𓆪 Next part

[bi-writes]

bestfriend!roommate!simon helps you get dressed for a night out because i love when men kneel

cw: nsfw content (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kisses through the mask, size kink, praise kink, a little oral (fem!receiving), a little suggestive touching (fem!receiving), simon likes thicc thighs, simon "my girl doesnt lift a finger because i worship her" riley

more bestfriend!roommate!simon

you haven't gone out in a long time. you were stuck working overnight shifts at the diner for extra money, busy every time you got a friendly text or a sweet call asking if you'd like to join your friends.

you hadn't told simon yet. you hadn't told him you were leaving tonight, but more worriedly, you hadn't told him you were struggling paying the bills. you scraped by the edges of your teeth last month to give him your half, and you remember looking at the cash in your wallet afterwards and wanting to vomit.

it was embarrassing. the landlord just kept urging you both for more, and while simon was always able to negotiate the raise every few months (one look at simon, and he always lowered his number), you were finding it difficult to keep up.

simon was successful. he was a decorated lieutenant, and he had many powerful friends. he never indulged in showing off his wealth; he wasn't raised with money, neither were you, and it was more than he knew what to do with. you remembered walking past him one night as he paid off a credit card on his laptop. you gagged when you saw the number in his account, the commas in the number.

why the fuck was in this piece of shit place with you when he could buy a house on a pebbled beach somewhere?

the dress was not cooperating. it had many straps that came in at the back, and they were twisted and crooked, looped around the corset back and making you a little frustrated. you sighed deeply before making your way across the hall, knocking gently on the bedroom across from you.

"simon?" there was no answer. "simon, i...could you help me for a second?"

the door opened a few moments later. a surgical mask was fit over his nose and mouth, a beanie over his head to cover the rest of him. you turned around in front of him, looking over your shoulder.

"i need help. it's all a mess, i can feel it."

his dark eyes flickered down to the back of your dress. the skin of your back was bare. you weren't wearing a bra underneath. you help up the front of the dress with both of your hands, cupping your breasts to keep it situated as simon finally reached over and began to unravel the laces of the corset.

"you goin' out?"

you nodded, rocking to the side a bit as he tugged the edges of the laces loose and began to tighten up the back of the corset. you held onto your stomach as the fabric of it began to shape the curve of your waist.

"yeah, just with some of the girls. they've been dying to go out, but i've just been working so much..."

"hmmm," he grunted in agreement. "'v hardly seen your face around here."

you sighed as he straightened out the straps, tying off the end of the corset with a tight bow at the bottom. you turned around to face him, and simon had to bite back the curse threatening to leave at the sight of you. the skin along your chest looked so soft, plump to the touch. he wanted to lean down and lick over the curve of your breasts right there, feel it bounce back with a hard kiss, watch your nipples harden if he blew on the sensitive contours of your neck.

"sorry...work has been...really busy."

"dunno 'bout that, luv. i know you're pickin' up shifts. i can hear you on the phone, asking to come in."

there was something more in that comment, something more he wanted to say lingering in the air. you frowned a little, meeting his eyes.

"im just trying to make extra money, simon, thats all."

he leaned in a little closer.

"if you need help--"

"no," you said immediately, shaking your head. "i know what you're going to say. i don't need your...i'm fine."

simon lowered his head slightly. for a moment, just one fleeting moment, you suddenly understand perhaps why men cowered on the battlefield. there was something dull and lifeless swirling there in his eyes. he was so much larger than you, big enough that he could probably wrap his whole hand around your neck and squeeze, and the life would leave you easy--and somehow you knew, those eyes wouldn't change, even knowing they would have taken the light from your own.

you knew, suddenly, that you were face to face with somebody else. a beast with a quiet name, a killer that rarely made a sound, the last whisper that one might ever hear.

you had angered simon, and his protector had come.

"you're lyin'."

"simon--"

"you're lyin' to me, sweetheart. where are your fuckin' manners?"

"i'm not one of your fucking soliders, simon. you can't give me orders," you snapped. you moved past him, hitting his shoulder with your own and going back into your room. you picked up your heels, taking a seat on your bed as you furiously slipped them on. your shadow followed, coming into your room and standing before you.

"how many times? how many times have i asked if everything is straight?"

you ignored him, continuing to slip your shoes on. of course, the ones you had picked out for tonight had straps that needed to be tied up your ankle.

"so i'm going to ask you again, luv, and you're gonna answer me well. do you need my bloody help?"

you let go of the ribbons of your shoes, letting them fall. you put your hands into your lap, your eyes on your crudely painted nails and skin of your knees and the way the shadow at your front began to come closer.

you swallowed hard when he knelt down at your feet. you watched with soft eyes as he picked up your foot gently by the ankle, resting it on his thigh. his gloved hands picked up the silk ribbons, beginning to cross them over your ankle. he straightened out the creases and made sure not to tie them twisted, being careful to make the ribbons look presentable.

when he finished tying the bow on one foot, he brought your ankle up, pressing the mouth of his mask to the silk of it and letting it fall. he picked up your other foot just as tenderly and with the precision of a sniper, he tied your ribbons and pressed a kiss to the silk.

with both your feet on the ground, and simon on his knees seemingly not going anywhere, you reached forward and slipped a hand under the hood, caressing one side of his face.

your palm was warm, fitting into the curve of his cheek. the fabric of his mask was soft as always, black cotton that shielded his pretty face from your eyes always. you never cared to look under it, never felt the need to make him take it off. even now, with his face in your hands, you felt no urge to see what was underneath. as far as you were concerned, the mask was his face--even if you had once seen that face and how stupidly handsome he was.

simon was an enigma. he had a poker face that many envied; the mask hid so much of his emotions, so much of what he might feel, and often he was even able to control the scrunch of his brows or the twitch of his eyes so you could read nothing. but he needed his eyes; he needed them to see, to engage, and if he could cover them, he would, but he needed them, so they were dark and wide, the one piece of him that he allowed.

so you tilted his head back with your hand on his face, letting the soft light of the room break him his hiding place. he wasn't wearing any eye-black today, and you smoothed a thumb just under his eye, watching his lashes flutter for a second. fuck, he was so pretty.

"you worry too much, simon," you whispered. "i'm fine. i promise."

you leaned forward, sighing deeply.

"i promise, simon," you said under your breath. "if something was wrong, i would tell you."

you tried looking into his eyes to convince him, but you knew as soon as you did, that you crucified the lie. something was wrong. you were scraping along, getting dragged by life, but you had learned a long time ago how to bury things into a box and swallow it all down.

you knew, also, that he didn't believe you. simon was too intelligent a man to think you were being honest there, but he didn't say anything. he just followed the warmth of your hand, and if he was a cat, he'd be purring.

you moved to stand, but simon reached for you, his gloved hands on your knees as he held you there. you opened your mouth to speak, but then he leaned forward, his head against your chest as he held you close. it forced your knees to spread to make room for him, and you sucked in a breath as both of his palms slipped up your thighs and caressed the soft skin there.

"simon--"

"don't want to bloody talk--"

"but--simon--"

it happened fast. one moment, you were sitting upright, cradling his head to your chest and feeling his hands along thighs, and the next, you were on your back, splayed across your bed, your dress riding up your hips and the stilettos of your heels digging into the meat of simon's back.

simon was not all muscle; sometimes, when he relaxed, you could feel the softness of him under your palm, a warmth that was solid, like a bear--something protective and built to last, like the foundations of a good home. and then sometimes he was like this--tense all over, muscles constricted, abdomen as taut as a rock, arms bulging as they worked and lifted and manhandled you like the lieutenant he was.

his head was buried between your thighs. you panted, breath heavy as you felt his heavy breath suddenly, his mask pushed up just enough so that he could lick a warm stripe up the inside of your thigh.

"you won't talk," simon murmured against the skin there. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward until he could kiss where your pelvis met your thigh. you shuddered at the feeling of his lips grazing the lace of your panties. "you won't fuckin' talk, but you will sing for me, luv."

"simon, i need to go..."

your voice was protesting, but your hands found the back of his head, smoothing over the locks of his hair. you whimpered when you felt the wetness of his tongue along the fabric of your panties. his entire mouth enveloped your mound, jaw hinging wide as he tasted you through the lace. you bucked up into his mouth, your hips chasing the wet feeling. he growled out angrily, keeping your hips pinned down as he sucked messily, his teeth nipping at the delicate lingerie.

you sucked in a shaky breath as he used a gloved finger to push it to the side, your cunt on display. he cursed when he spread your folds, watching the drip of you as it drenched your panties more, your sweet hole puckering around nothing.

"fuckin' hell--" he sucked on his teeth. "you're fuckin' drippin', luv."

"s-simon, i-i...i can explain, i..."

"don't have to explain anythin'."

you whined as he finally put his mouth on you. his tongue started low, teasing your cunt with a slow circle before curling, trying to flood his mouth with the taste of you. you tasted good, tasted familiar somehow, and his chest swelled at the thought that you were this wet because you were thinking about him.

he could listen to you for hours. the moans that passed through your glossy lips, the languid roll of your hips as you chased his tongue, the sweat that gathered at the base of your spine and along your forehead and the sound of his name sputtering in choked breaths out of your gorgeous mouth.

a vision. simon didnt believe paradise existed, but he believed there was something close to it. it used to be the side of a bullet hitting exactly where he aimed, the feel of foreign soil hitting his enemy's eyes before he took them down, getting his squad out of the gutter when they were pinned down on all sides. he was good at his job. he was good on the field, he was good with chaos, but this was new.

this feeling had always been somewhere under the surface whenever he was with you. he didn't recognize it at first because he had never felt anything quite like it. the feeling one gets when they get home after a long day. the light in someone's eyes when they see a face they recognize when they're in a place they don't belong. the light of a flame in room so dark, you can't see your hands held up in front of your face.

he wondered sometimes if he had ever felt this way with his family. if looking into his nephew's eyes, he had ever felt something like this--and he did, somewhat, but this was more. this wasn't the gentle nip of a soft animal, this kind of love had fangs, and it had sunk itself so deep into him, he knew it was latched onto him. sucking on his blood, draining the shit from his veins, and putting something else there, something addicting.

and he didn't care. he gripped your hips with his gloved hands, sucking on your clit and licking up the slick of you and trying so hard to please the woman that plagued every fucking thought in his head.

"simon--"

your voice was a sob, practically. whining his name, tears coming down your face as he ate you out furiously. he was gentle at first, and then he was nearly aggressive, slurping at your folds and fucking into your cunt and barely coming up for air. when he did come up, his tone was low and drunk-sounding, slurring out soft phrases of "like a fuckin' sweet" and "so fuckin' pretty."

your back arched off the bed. your makeup was ruined by now, surely. your corset askew, your stilettos digging dark holes into his back, your throat hoarse from the crying--simon had you like no one else. simon had you wrapped so tightly around his gloved finger, you might as well have been a brand there--an extension of that glove, one of the crude white bones painted along the back of his hand. he had carved a hole so deep inside of you, shaped perfectly to the beastly size of him; you would never be rid of him. your whole life after this, you just knew--nobody would ever eat your cunt the way lieutenant simon riley ate it, that was a fucking fact.

he moaned when you came. a deep, guttural moan that came from deep in his chest. his eyes rolled to the back of his head when you gushed right onto his tongue. he drank it like he was running desert dry, a kind of eagerness that was making your vision go a little fuzzy, sparkling dots hazing over you. your head was a mess of emotions, all clouded over by pleasure and your body limp in his arms. your body was jelly, so worn as if you had been fucked brainless, but, oh--simon hadn't even gotten that far with you, and his mouth had you spineless.

you sat up, hair tousled, legs shaking, breaths warm and heavy and easy. everything was easy with simon. living, breathing, loving, touching--everything was easy.

he stood up finally, rising from his knees and rolling out his shoulders, and even though you could see him subtly adjusting his pants, he didn't make a move on you. he didn't reach for you, didn't try and touch you again, didn't reach for the bow he had tied on your corset to try and undo it. no, simon had just given you a mind-numbing orgasm and if not for the strain on his zipper, you'd think he had just filed his fucking taxes.

"simon...s-simon--"

"have fun tonight," he murmured, brushing a stray hair out of your face. he tucked it behind your ear, the glove making you shiver. "you call me when y'ready to come home."

your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a soft smile on your face.

"m-maybe i dont...maybe i don't wanna go out, m-maybe i wanna stay here...with you...w-watch movies like we usually do."

he shook his head, his thumb swiping just under your chin.

"no. go have fun. i'll be waitin' here for you, luv."

his fingers traced along your neck, something in his eyes that said he wanted more. but a ghost doesn't beg, right?

but maybe simon does.

"okay. i'll call you."

"right then."

and when the click of your bedroom door shut, you looked down at your shoes, so prettily tied with a bow on the end. you reached down, gripping the end of the bow and pulling, watching the silk unravel and come undone.

and then he heard the call of his name again.

[rinrinx2]

Their Ideal Type JJK Men

Summary: What acts you put on that gets them going in the bedroom.

Characters: Sukuna, Toji, Getou, Nanami

Warnings: Mature content, Smut

Sukuna

His type is the submissive type.

He likes a woman who’s desperate for him, that follows his every word but also shy enough to not be making demands in the bedroom.

He likes fucking you in doggy, seeing how much you arch your backs tells him how desperate you are to get fucked.

If you want him to go faster you better not tell him, the only way his going to go fast is by how loud you moan.

The louder the moans = the faster and deeper he goes.

His face will remain neutral while his fucking you the first round but once you cum is when his expression changes. Then his smiling like a mad man watching as you get overstimulated from his cock.

“What’s the tears princess?” He’ll laugh out sadistically.

Your cries of overstimulation are nothing but music to his ears, so don’t expect him to stop even if you give him the water works because the only liquid he wants to see is from what’s in between your legs.

“ Please, I can’t anymore” you beg out as you felt being stuffed for what was the fifth time.

“You better shut that mouth before I fill it as well”

Getou

His type is a woman who’s willing to serve and make him happy.

Similar to Sukuna he likes them submissive, but not to the extent that he needs to tell you everything.

You’re a big girl you know how to take cock, or that what Getou tells you.

Loves it when you put on a show for him.

Watching you strip down to sexy lingerie for him as you try your best to impress him.

And he is impressed, impressed enough to give you the reward of fucking you.

When he fucks you his moaning into your ear, he knows when you hear how needy he sounds your pussy tightens up just the way he likes.

“Ahh you’re so tight around my cock” he praises, feeling as you get tighter.

But once he gets tired his putting you on top, ready to ride and that’s when your submissive nature comes out, doing anything to make him happy.

“Just like that, feel my cock deep in your pussy baby”

Toji

His type is anyone that’s willing to do all the work.

Toji loves showing his dominance but at the same time he likes to take a break when it comes to pleasure.

So, he’ll let you take the wheel but he won’t let you get to cocky with it. His hands will remain on your hips helping you bounce up and down on his cock.

He loves watching the way your tits bounce up and down, with your nipples hard just inviting him to suck on them.

Loves the faces you make as his cock head hits against that spot making you see stars.

Is not the praising type at all, will say condescending things to motivate you.

“Come on princess, ride my cock like you mean” as he placed a loud smack in your ass.

And there’s something about that grin and the nonchalant look in his eyes that makes you want to prove yourself to him.

But his not a complete asshole, he knows that he doesn’t cum quick. So, once you’re tired of riding him, he lets you lay yourself down on his chiseled chest as he starts to power bottom you.

His going to fuck you ruthlessly from below.

The only sound being heard, is your cries of pleasure, the slick of your pussy and his sexy laughs as he listens to your pleases to cum.

But once he cums his a real gentleman.

“I love watching my cum drip out of you but here’s a towel princess” he says as he watches you struggle to get up.

“It’s fine, lay back down I’ll clean you up”

Nanami

His type is someone who has a wild side in bed, someone who’s willing to explore new things in the bedroom.

Nanami is known for being a routinely man, with a strict schedule but once he gets into the bedroom he likes to throw that all away.

So, a woman that’s not scared to explore new positions or toys is what gets his balls aching.

Coming home to see you in crotchless panties, or having you bend over to reveal no underwear has the blood rushing to his cock.

“Wet as usual” Nanami says as he lets his middle finger slip through your puffy lips as you remain bent over the kitchen table pretending to reach for something.

If his fucking you from the side his going to use a vibrator on your swollen clit so he can feel your walls tighten from the sensations.

Loves sensation play, ice, wax, blowing cold air on your nipples and pussy, his doing it all. And if you like he’ll let you do it on him.

He can’t decide on his favourite position yet because he still has so many more to explore with you, but fucking you in doggy in front of the mirror is definitely second place.

“Look how my cum is dripping out of you” Nanami says with a smile as he continues to fuck you from behind.

Is definitely considering getting a sex swing.

“Look it’s on special”

.

.

.

Gojo, Higuruma, Shia, Choso coming soon …

All rights reserved @rinrinx2

[formulawolff]

iii. golden girl - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.3k

warnings: age gap, cursing, yearning, pining, some sexual content, power imbalances, toto wanting to absolutely rail you, some slight mentions of a size kink, yadayadayada, mature content!

prev. | next.

“holy fuck! holy fuck! holy fucking shit!”

“come here!” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

james squeezes you tightly, nearly sweeping you off your feet as the team swarms your car, fireworks bursting in the night. it thunders through the stands, yet you can barely hear a thing as the team surrounds the two of you, jeering. tears sting your eyes, blurring your vision through the visor. 

yet, this was no time for tears. 

raising your arms, you clamber on to your car, standing on top of it. you pump your fists in the air. 

“we did it! we fucking did it!”

your voice is muffled slightly by the helmet, but your team understands your words, cheering in response. hopping off the car, you throw off your helmet, hairs plastered to your forehead, cheeks burning from the heat. 

“how did we manage that?” james is as astonished as you are, nearly trembling with excitement. although it was substantially late in the evening, he was bright eyed-and bushy tailed. 

the team principal was probably running on fumes by now, but you knew the adrenaline coursing through veins would keep him wide awake in the hours to come. 

“i don’t know,” you shake your head, “but we did it.”

“max has some competition, eh?” he teases, a hand tousling your hair. 

“i would not go that far,” your cheeks burned once again, but this time, it was not from the heat. 

you couldn’t stop grinning. no matter how hard you tried, the smile would just come back. 

it was more than likely from the fact that you just made history. 

for the first time in seventy-four years of formula one, you were the first american woman in history to win a grand prix. 

you made history today. and you would probably continue to make a name for yourself, break records, and obliterate barriers. 

fuck, this was an amazing day. 

probably one of the best days of your life. 

“good fucking job!”

“amazing race out there!”

“we love you!”

praise floods your ears as you make your way to the podium, guided by james. the stands are still somewhat packed, and you blow a few kisses and wave to fans as you stroll along. 

your heart was still thumping, blood roaring in your ears. euphoria courses through your veins, the feeling completely unmatched to anything you had ever felt before. it buzzes from your fingertips to your toes, your steps feeling light compared to the rush of the race. 

you were on cloud nine. 

making your way onto the podium, you step into the first place spot, beaming as max and checo follow suit, stepping on their designated places. your respective home flags roll down, the star spangled banner filling your ears. 

tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but shed a few, wiping them away with your hand as the anthem rolls on, your team waiting patiently below. 

is this how max felt every time he won? 

was this the high he was always chasing after? 

because now you understood. now you understood exactly why drivers were so determined to win. when you started your formula one career, you were more determined than ever to just place in a race. to prove the ones who had doubted you wrong. to rub it in their faces that you were a worthy competitor. most of all, to show the world what you were made of as a female driver. 

now, here you were. 

proving to the world that you were not only determined, but you were an exceptional driver. 

you were capable of winning races. 

and in your heart, you knew you were so capable of winning so many more. 

as the trophy is placed in your hands, you pump it in the air, the williams racing crew applauding. there are some shouts, some cries of joys, and suddenly, you feel a shower of champagne cascading down your suit.

glancing up, you notice that both max and sergio are holding champagne bottles in their hands, spraying not only you, but each other. giggling, you reach down, picking up your own bottle. the three of you erupt with laughter, as you douse one another. at one point, you chase max with it, tugging on the collar of his fire suit and pouring it down his back. 

the rest of the evening is a blur. everyone morphed together: reporters, crew members, even james. everything that was said to you went in one ear, and straight out the other. 

winning a grand prix was exhilarating, but god did you hate the press that followed after. 

what seemed like hours later, you were finally back at your motorhome, kicking open the door. you were sticky from the champagne, your hair caked to the nape of your neck and cap. your muscles ached, desperate for some sort of relief. 

racing an 1,800 pound car was no easy feat. 

and you were beyond exhausted. 

physically, mentally, and emotionally. 

of course, the first thing you did after the podium celebration consisted of facetiming your parents. even with the time difference, they stayed up and watched, nearly blowing out the speaker of your phone when you called. 

after a quick shower, you were perched on your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. part of you wanted to fill the empty space with a pet, but you knew that all of the travel would be hard on any animal. perhaps during the offseason you would consider a cat. a big fluffy maine coon or a sleek russian blue would be perfect. 

all over social media, american fans flooded the feed with memes, edits, and comments. all of them were in support of you. and for the first time in a long time, you felt the urge to sit and read everything that was said. 

not only were your parents, james, and team proud, but your country was as well. 

as an edit plays on tik tok, you can’t help but laugh as you hear the sound, “what the fuck is a kilometer?” paired with photos and snippets of you from the grand prix. god, were these people so fast  when it came to posting the edits. where the hell did they find these clips so quickly anyway? 

a knock at your door startles you, head snapping up.

although the crew wanted to party, you had to inform them that it would have to be postponed. even though you were still running on all of the adrenaline, it was slowly trickling away, leaving your eyelids heavy and body sore. 

carefully, you trudge to the door, wincing as a twinge of pain sears through your neck. opening the door, your eyes widen. 

once again, it was toto wolff. 

this time, he had a small package in his hand. it was a crisp white paper, wrapped neatly with a royal blue bow. 

“i figured i would swing by and congratulate you on your accomplishment.”

“thank you,” apprehensively, you accept the gift in his hand, “it’s a bit late, you know.”

“i know, i know,” he exhales, “i figured i would do this privately instead of in front of the whole world.”

“the whole world as in my team?” you arch a brow. 

“yes,” he answers, swaying slightly, “can i come in?”

peering past his broad shoulders, you survey the surroundings. since it was so late, most of the crew had retired to their respective hotel rooms or motorhomes. now, it was most of the cleanup and mechanical crew, tearing down signs and cleaning up litter. 

biting your lip, you nod, inviting the austrian in, “come in.”

this time, you could sense that he was nervous. you usher him to the couch, urging him to sit. you find a spot on the opposite end, maintaining your distance. there’s a moment of silence between the two of you, toto eyeing your current attire.

of course he had to come by while you were in your pajamas. 

well, pajamas that consisted of a black skims tee and grey sweatshorts. shorts that were a little revealing, at that. 

breaking the silence, you cough, “why did you really come by?”

“you know why.” 

“i’m not joining your team,” you roll your eyes, “you can’t buy my decision with gifts, either.”

“oh?” his brows raise, “can i buy it with something else, then?”

“no,” you shake your head, “you can’t.”

“well, i tried,” he puts his hand up in defeat, “it seems you have made your decision.”

the austrian begins to stand up, smoothing out a wrinkle in his pants. yet, your spring forward, your hand delicately grasping his wrist as he turns, “wait.”

“hmm?” he hums, “what is it? reconsidering?”

“can you–” warmth fills your cheeks as he peers down at you, prompting you to speak, “i can’t stop thinking about the last time you were here. and the time we were in monaco.”

“monaco?” he echoes, “i don’t recall monaco.”

“you were probably too drunk to remember.”

your heart swells as his fingertips reach out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. it’s a gentle act, his hand massaging your scalp for a moment, “no, i remember. when i called you a golden girl and you acted like you’d never been complimented in your life. i offered you a drink too, and you refused. probably didn’t want to ruin your image as a golden girl, hmm?”

“you’re a little shit,” you mutter, earning a hearty laugh in return, “but anyway i–”

“i can’t stop thinking about it either,” toto settles back down on the couch. this time, he is not a couple of feet away. he plops down right next to you, only inches of space separating you two. 

“i probably think about you too much.” 

“why?” you blurt out, “why, though? i’m just another driver. i’m not anything special.”

“not anything special? little dove, you are by far one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. ever since i saw your image circulating around social media, i could not help but stare in awe. you’re practically a model, and you drive exceptionally well? like i said, you’re an inspiration. you’re confident. you’re level-headed. that is a package deal, schatz.”

“you literally said the other night that you were trying to manipulate me into accepting your offer,” the notes in your tone are solemn. 

the team principal cocks his head, shocked at your attempt to throw him off guard. yet, your face falls as he bears a grin, his tone matter-of-fact.

“you’re not very good at this whole good cop, bad cop thing.” 

“i’d be much better at it if you weren’t so handsome,” your lips form a pout, and toto inches closer, his hand cupping the nape of your neck. 

fingertips massage the area, earning a sigh of relief, “am i really that handsome?”

“do you not remember the way i scurried away after you offered me to buy me drinks in monaco? i was a mess. i’m a mess every single time i talk to you.”

“is that why you’re so against joining mercedes?” the inquiry is innocent, with no underlying reason to prod or pry. 

well, it was not necessarily the entire reason you were against accepting toto’s offer, but it definitely was one of them. you wouldn’t be able to last a second in the paddock without climbing all over him and attacking him. 

if you weren’t careful enough, you’d probably get pregnant one night in the paddock. 

“i just think about what would happen if i did,” you shrug, averting away from his gaze, “there’s no denying i am attracted to you. i can’t just sit here and lie.”

“i know you are,” his hand wanders to your shoulder blades, carefully kneading each one, “fuck, schatz. you’re so tight.” 

you’re so tight. 

the comment sends you spiraling, hands instinctively shielding your face so he wouldn’t see how flustered you were. between your thighs, your clit throbs, and you desperately wanted him to take care of it.

you prayed and hoped to whatever god that existed that he wouldn’t notice the wet spot that was pooling in your underwear. if he kept up the messaging and the comments, it was bound to be visible on your shorts. 

“hiding, are we? don’t be afraid, little dove. i’ve done my research. you’ve made comments about me on your social media.”

“i was sixteen!” you groan, burying your face even deeper, “fuck, fuck, fuck. this is so embarrassing. i should have wiped everything before i started racing.”

“some new accounts wouldn’t have hurt,” despite your embarrassment, he’s gentle, carefully tending to your sore muscles, “after that race, i’m not shocked at how tense you are.”

“are you actually proud of me or are you just saying these things so i’ll join your little team.”

“i’m actually proud,” one hand continues massaging, while the other finds your temple, attempting to separate your hands from your face, “can you look at me?”

hesitantly, you lower your hands. as you do so, toto’s lips curl into a grin, “there she is.”

his eyes search yours momentarily, and you feel the urge to cover your face once more. but you don’t, allowing him to look. you can’t quite put your finger on what he was searching for, but you catch the glint in his eyes. 

it was simply admiration. drinking in every little part of you. memorizing every little freckle, every lash, every little detail that defined your features. 

reaching out, his thumb traces along your jawline, trailing upwards to your cheek. you nearly collapse under the gentle touch, every fiber in your being screaming to maintain your composure. 

“such a beautiful girl,” toto whispers, his voice so low you could barely hear it, “why don’t you want to be with me at mercedes?”

“i made a commitment,” you affirm, your heart nearly stopping as toto leans in, “i don’t break my promises.” 

“and i am a man of my word. i’ll make you a world champion, schatz.” 

your lashes flutter as his thumb caresses your cheekbone, “aren’t you a married man, toto?”

“that’s what you’re worried about?” a light chuckle flows from his lips, “i’m trying to make you the deal of a lifetime and you’re fretting over whether or not i’m a married man?”

your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in even more, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, “this is wrong.”

“join me at mercedes,” toto murmurs, lips ghosting over yours, “please, be my world champion.”

“do you have a crush on me, mr. wolff?”

there’s a noise that rumbles in his throat. it’s guttural, almost animalistic, “crushes are for children. let’s just say i’ve had my eye on you for some time.”

“how long have you had your eye on me?”

“so many questions, schatz,” toto tuts, your heart races as his hand wanders, finding your thigh, “what is it going to take to make you mine? i am not one to beg, but i am starting to think i just may have to.”

you stutter as his thumb inches towards your inner thigh, tracing small circles, “i-i just need some time to think about it. there’s so much at stake here, and it’s just so overwhelming.”

“what can i do to help ease that stress?” toto shifts his body, making his way to the floor, “tell me what i need to do.” 

the temperature of the room skyrockets as he gets on his knees, situating himself between your legs. his hands, oh so warm, grip your thighs. 

the austrian presses soft kisses all over, earning a mewl from you. as you squirm, you can feel him grin against your heated skin as he stops momentarily, looking up at you. 

fuck, was he as gorgeous as ever, sitting between your thighs. brunette strands fell perfectly in his face, framing it just right. in the dim light, you notice the pink hue dusting his cheeks. his lips are plush, and you fight the urge to kiss him right there, but you hold back. 

licking his lower lip, his eyes are darkened, consumed by lust, “tell me baby, what do you want? how can i help put your mind at ease? you’re practically dripping right now. do you want me to take care of you?”

“oh fuck,” you’re nearly breathless, “i – yes. please.”

“i’ll pamper you baby,” toto’s breath fans against your thigh, “you just have to promise me something.”

“and that is?”

“you’ll seriously consider my offer. i’ll expect a decision by miami,” he snaps out of his lust-filled trance for just a second, “i mean that. you will need to find me in miami and tell me what you decide. in-person. nothing over text or social media. i can’t wait around for you forever, schatz. i am going to have to consider my other options if you don’t give me a clear answer.”

“that’s not enough time–” you protest, yet your swiftly interrupted by his lips colliding with yours. 

the kiss is fiery, nearly sweeping you off the couch. his lips mold with yours, one hand remaining on your thigh while the other wraps around the base of your neck, bringing you even closer to him. a soft moan rises in your throat as his tongue finds yours, fingers delving into the waistband of your shorts.

“so beautiful,” he pants against your lips, “so, so, so beautiful. so wet for me. fuck. i do this to you?”

“yes,” you nod, “i’ve been wet since you walked in the door.”

the confession sends toto reeling, the austrian nearly losing control in that moment. his grasp on your neck tightens ever so slightly, his breathing ragged. 

he had you exactly where he wanted you. 

ever since it was announced that you were joining the world of formula one as a driver for williams racing, toto was determined to have you on his team. he was not lying when he said that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. while he tried to play it off, the team principal had a significant crush on the williams driver. 

the moment he saw that photo of you shaking james hand, he knew he was a goner. 

not only were you absolutely stunning, someone with a gift like yours needed to be put on a pedestal. and fuck, was he so frustrated when he couldn’t sign you. at the time, mercedes was full. he had lewis and george, who were oh so talented. 

of course, the team principal needed to determine whether he was simply acting on his own attraction, or if this would be a good business venture. mercedes had maintained a decent reputation. there were a few fuck-ups through the years, but nothing so significant it ruined his career. 

however, the decision to sign you to mercedes may ruin his career. he knew if he signed you, he would not be able to keep things professional. he would want you every day, every hour, every minute, every second you were around him. he would crave to just fuck you every chance he got. and if a single soul got wind of that? he would be done for. he knew he would be let go immediately. 

yet, that was the least of his worries. 

now, his priority was taking you in, bringing you home to mercedes. although he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, he knew you would shine if you went to mercedes. you would shine like the sun. 

you would be formula one’s golden girl. 

finally, after all of those weeks of pining after you, after his attempt to flirt with you in monaco, all of those stolen glances, after all fighting all of those urges to just corner you in your paddock one day and lose all of his inhibitions, confessing every sin that ran rampant in his mind. 

you were right here. and you were beneath him, so breathtaking and innocent. 

you were an angel. 

his angel. 

“the things i would do to you right now–”

a series of knocks rings through the space, so crisp and sharp.

“hey, it’s daniel! can we talk?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thank you so much for reading! please let me know if you would like to be tagged for future chapters! <3

[austinbutlerslovers]

Teachers Pet

Label Mature 18+

Summary When you begin to fail Professor Butlers advanced math class in college because you can’t stop fantasizing about him, he comes up with a way to satisfy your lust and increase your grade simultaneously. When you are finally on the verge of receiving an F he propositions you. The more you sexually gratify him the higher he will raise your grade.

Student teacher relationship

🚨 Depraved smut 🚨 sex for benefits• unequal power dynamics •sex with position of power• sex with a teacher •manipulation •coercion• long con• forced exposure to self pleasure • coercion seeing self pleasure• romance denial • sexual obsession• edging •fingering • clit play• panty play• oral sex fem receiving• size kink• p in v•multiple orgasms•squirting• ejaculated on •dubcon

The VIPs 🏆 (I struggled w too many ideas for this & they saved me) 📖Plot Consultant @purejasmine 📕 Scenario Consultant @darlinboypresley

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Teachers Pet

‘Professor Butler’ You wrote his name in your note book encircling it with hearts as you smiled to yourself.

He was your advanced mathematics teacher in college and even though his class became extremely difficult you still wanted to be so smart for him.

You look up from your note book in his class and watch him drawing odd shapes on the board explaining a theory for the test tomorrow. You already know you are definitely going to fail.

All you do is get lost staring at him on full display in front of the class now.

When he would walk around the room being engaging you would stare lustfully at his fit body.

When he neared your desk reading from his math text book to the class you would study his handsome face.

When he would explain a new theory looking sternly as he wrote out the equations you would stare into the depths of his blue eyes.

You were especially drawn to his full lips, the way they would curve into a smile when he was passionate about an idea.

His voice was like rich honey and his body was tall and trim. With his perfectly feathered sandy brown hair, and gorgeous smile you were no longer able to pay attention to any of his lectures.

The way he dressed was classic and masculine. You especially loved the blue button up shirt he had on today. He’s worn it over a dozen times and you think it must be his favorite. He paired it with blue jeans that maybe be didn’t realize completely accentuated his cock.

It drove you wild when he would rest back on his desk and his crotch would bunch up at the zipper. You already knew he had an obscenely large cock and it made you shiver at the thought.

As he rests back on his desk in the compromising position again you began to reminisce about the time you saw his large erect cock. You squeeze your thighs shut and quickly look away biting your lower lip trying to regain composure but your core is already throbbing at this point.

You search the room to see if anyone else is aroused in the front row instead of learning math, but you are only one.

It hadn’t always been this way, before it was a simple crush, he was your very kind and handsome math teacher who adored your brilliance.

The infatuation began the first week of second semester. Professor Butler requested you to come to class half an hour early which wasn’t unusual you were his top student then.

He would go over your notes with you and have discussions about upcoming class assignments. His stance was always kneeling by you with one hand placed on your desk and the other resting on the back of your chair.

Being so close with him was very intimate. It made you feel like you were being drawn into his orbit and that every breath he took resonated with yours.

In the magnetic pull of the shared space, you could feel his warmth and his rich voice as it carried even more weight being so near.

He had you going over an advanced equation that was giving you difficulty for the upcoming test. You had never struggled in his class before and it made you apprehensive.

As you worked out the problem he began to slowly trail his thumb across your back as he held your chair. It was the first time he had ever touched you.

The air become charged with anticipation, and his touch, intentional or accidental, sparked a cascade of sensations. It is a moment you distinctly remember when time seemed to pause.

As he continued to slowly trail his thumb across your back you understood it was intentional.

You stared at the pencil in your hand which had come to a stand still on the paper.

“Does it distract when I encourage you?” He asked gently.

“N-no it’s fine” you stammered and willed yourself to finish the equation even though his touch completely altered your mindset.

He pulled the paper from your desk when you set your pencil aside and he examined your work. He slowly smirked

“You got it wrong” he said looking back into your eyes. “Try again.” He said placing the paper on your desk.

You blinked in shock that you gotten it wrong but began to work again as his striking blue eyes studied you, the pressure had never been so intense.

In that moment you weren’t sure if you were doing the work to be a good student or doing the work to be good for him.

He was only focused on you, lingering on every curve of your face and every movement of your hand as you willed it to stop shaking. You began scratching out your current work to start over. Your confidence was wavering you wanted to prove yourself so badly.

He tenderly placed his hand around yours to stop you and guided it back to a certain set of numbers in your formulation “Here is where you went wrong, this is where you second guessed yourself” he revealed. You stared over at his handsome face and desired him greatly your eyes immediately fell to his full lips before you quickly looked away.

You forced yourself to focus and found your mistake beginning to do the math correctly the second time. Thats when he slowly trailed his thumb across your back again sending ripples of sensation through your skin, igniting a spark of connection that transcended words.

You stopped working and stared straight down at your paper only able to focus on his touch. Seeing you so distracted he slowly trailed his hand up to your shoulder giving it a tender squeeze.

“I’ll let you get back to your work, but I want you to come in early again tomorrow.” He stated as he stood. You nodded in agreement and he left you to complete your work.

As you watched him walk back down to his desk you wanted him to come back you wanted him so badly. But you felt very guilty because you were well aware Professor Butler was married, he clearly wore a wedding ring on his left hand.

Due to the amount of time and proximity together you developed a deep crush on him and with just a touch it clouded your entire judgement. Was he attracted to you or was he encouraging you?

You found out the answer the next day.

Compromised

You arrived to Professor Butlers class early as he requested and entered the room silently not to distract him as he worked.

As you quietly closed the door behind yourself you finally looked to him and caught him in a position of complete compromise. With his laptop open he was pleasuring his very large cock.

You stood frozen watching him, his eyes were closed in bliss and he was making short breathy noises. You fell into a daze of arousal until his eyes opened locking with yours and shocking you out of your trance. You scurried across the room trying to pretend you didn’t see.

He quickly clicked the buttons to turn off his screen and fidgeted with his hands beneath the desk to put his large cock away before quickly standing.

He knocked over his thermos in the rush and reached for it but the container clattered to the floor sending tea flying everywhere. Hearing the noise you stopped in your tracks.

“I’m so Professor Butler I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you like that .” You said in a panic. You don’t know why but you are the one who felt embarrassed.

“What did you see?” He asked a little breathless

“N-nothing Professor Butler” you said as your hands fidgeted nervously from the lie.

You eye his shirt completely ruined as well as his desk. “Are you okay?” You asked because you know the tea must’ve been very hot.

He slowly relaxed his composure and began unbuttoning his shirt as he responded.

“Yea I’m fine I always bring a change of clothing incase of accidents like this.”

You sucked in a breath because before your could even turn he had already stripped the shirt from his body.

You blinked stunned staring at him instantly aroused by his muscular physique. As he looked up his eyes met with your gaze you quickly turned on your heels to give him privacy.

You heard him mutter “Fuck my pants are wet too” making your face blush you’d never heard him upset or cuss… ever. Nothing phased him.

You began to climb the steps to your seat as you heard him open his desk drawer. By the time you were seated he was almost finished buttoning on the new clean shirt he retrieved.

“I have to go to my office .” He announced glancing at you as he left the classroom.

The room became eerily quiet without his presence and sitting in silence you noticed the tea was still spilled on his desk. Wanting to be helpful you decided to clean it up while he was out of the room. You were also secretly dying to know what he was looking at on his laptop. Collecting a towel from the white board you came to stand at his desk wiping it down.

As you got close to his laptop patting up the liquid spilled near the keyboard you pressed the space bar and it turned on to reveal your college id picture on the screen. Your knees went weak with all the information flooding your mind at once. He was pleasuring himself to your photo before you arrived to see him.

You quickly pressed the sleep key to turn the screen off and put the towel in the class hamper. You rushed to your desk and sat down in a daze, should you leave? Should you stay? Is he going to cheat on his wife with you ?! Your heart was pounding as he entered the classroom wearing a pair of new jeans.

He walked to his desk and saw the mess had already been cleaned then he pressed his laptop screen on seeing the display, he looked up directly at you. You panicked averting your eyes quickly to your desk, you were frozen you couldn’t even pretend to do anything else.

You had such crush a crush on him yet finding out he felt the same stunned you. You wondered what would be the bigger problem for him if the school found out or his wife found out.

As he made his way up you avoided his gaze by staring down at your hands on your desk as you picked at your nails. He slowly crouched down next to you peering at you like he had done a dozen times before but this time it was different.

You watched his finger trace down your hand to get your attention as his voice broke the silence

“What did you see?” He asked again more directly.

“I didn’t see anything Professor Butler.” You answered knowing the ramifications of your next actions.

He studied your body language for the tell tale sign you are lying. Your knee bounced uncontrollably under the desk and he coyly smiled.

“You have tells when you lie.” He said gently.

“Professor… I don’t want you to get in trouble.” You blurted out.

He smiled. “What did I do that would get me in trouble ?” He said beguilingly.

You finally looked over to him and his eyes were soft and kind as he looked into yours. His gaze shifted down to your lips. He was deep in thought as he leaned closer before he hesitated regaining his senses.

“I should get ready for class” he said standing and leaving you at your desk.

Your heart broke into pieces. He had wanted you but he calculated it, and he didn’t like the odds.

After that day he no longer looked at you or smiled at you, what was far worse is that he completely ignored you. The test you studied for with him you passed but you began to fail every sub-sequential one soon after.

You knew not to an ask him for help because he would refer you to the tutoring center like he did for all his other students. When you got to a C- you finally went, and to your dismay the tutors only gave you the answer key. They were cocky and rude talking down to you and even out right dismissive when you asked for help.

You missed the way Professor Butler would gently tutor you, he helped you immensely. But he never requested to see you again and you never asked.

Knowing he desired you made you physically crave him on a subconscious level. All you could do was think about him in class, and in your dorm, you lost track of your studies in his course entirely.

Once you were at a D- you sat in bed in your dorm wondering how you lost the concept of math so quickly. You also contemplated how badly you were going to fail him for the upcoming test. You couldn’t accept your fate of receiving an official F in Professor Butlers class it was too painful.

Satisfy Your Lust

When you finally snap to attention in class Professor Butler is handing out the practice tests. You quickly put your notebook away, the test is tomorrow and you desperately hope this will help you pass.

He addresses the class as he walks the room. “Okay so now that we’ve gone over all the concepts this week, here is what you’ve all been waiting for the practice test!” he says holding up a thick stack of papers smacking it lightly in his hand.

The class groans as he begins handing a stack to the first person of each row as he continues “Hey you guys this is mandatory stuff this is what’s going to help you pass the test tomorrow I wouldn’t misguide you.” he affirms.

Professor Butler drops a stack at your row and you collect one test before handing the stack to the next student.

You feel the room shrink as you look at the hieroglyphs on the paper. You want to curl up into a ball.

Professor Butler checks his watch and then the clock above the board for the second hand.

“Okay I’m gonna call it right… about…now. You have thirty minutes to complete the practice test when you are done drop the completed packet in the basket on my desk and return to your seat” he announces to the entire class.

Everyone begins working.

Your eyes fill with fear as you look at question one, you are going to fail so badly. You shakily write your name and start. The first question is multiple choice. You work through the math on a sheet of scratch paper to get your answer.

When you check the choices your answer isn’t even there. You try question two and three before the defeat starts eating you alive. The questions only increase in complexity and you begin circling multiple choice and filling out word problems at will.

When Professor Butler kneels next to you it catches you off guard but you are hopeful that maybe he can tell you have no clue what you are doing and will finally offer assistance.

When he is eye level you look to him and are mesmerized by his stunning face again. You missed being so close to him and are comforted by his presence. He has a look of perplexity as he leans in to speak privately with you.

“I don’t know how to tell you this but…” he glances around then back to you whispering very closely not to be overheard “your legs spread open like that is very distracting to me” he confesses and checks your reaction.

Your face flushes bright red as you snap your legs together faster than lightening. His eyes soften looking at you as his full lips curve into a smile.

“Our little secret.” he says smiling at you. Being so stressed you forgot to cross your legs and the embarrassment swells inside of you.

He stands up and returns to his desk. As he is seated you can see he has full view to look directly between your legs the entire time …. and of all days you wore a mini skirt with pink panties that have little red hearts on them. You want to die.

One by one everyone stands and places their tests in the basket and you quickly fill in the remaining answers to seem timely. As you place your test in the basket Professor Butler collects it and immediately begins circling your answers in red. Your confidence plummets.

The bell rings with his stopwatch signaling the end of the practice test and you let out a sigh. You feel completely hopeless about receiving your first F tomorrow and quickly gather your back pack.

As you pass Professor Butlers desk he calls to you.

“Hey wait up a sec.” He says from his seat gesturing you back. You stop in your tracks stunned, this is the first time he’s addressed you to speak with him in days. A few girls push past you in your disorientation.

One of them even turns back to mouth “teachers pet.” to taunt you before she exits the class.

Though you were once top student of his class you are definitely not teachers pet anymore, you are going to fail him and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You stand in front of his desk as he sits and waits for everyone to leave the class. He is leaned back in his seat, fingers interlaced and elbows on the arm rests. He is in deep contemplation as he looks at you.

“How confident do you feel on your knowledge of the test tomorrow?” he asks staring at you with eyes full of inquiry.

You shift on your feet and bite your lower lip as you lie “Really good.” He watches as you nervously fidget tugging the hem of your skirt, your body obviously betraying you.

“Fail this test tomorrow and it’s an F in my class.” He says sternly and as he stands he gives you a look that adds to the sting of his words.

“I know Professor Butler“ you confess almost out right apologizing for your actions.

“What is happening with you? You were my top student?” He asks as he collects a spray bottle and cloth to wipe the board. You gaze over him lustfully as he wipes it down remembering him shirtless.

“I…I-I’ve been really distracted lately.” You admit regaining your thoughts.

“Distracted by what? This is the answer you give me every time, why won’t you tell me.” He asks earnestly as he puts the bottle and cloth away.

Professor Butler then firmly places his palms flat on his desk as he stands behind it. His blue eyes are piecing as they search yours. “If you won’t say what it is how do you expect me to help you?” He asks directly.

You bite your lower lip at the mere thought of telling him to help in the way you need him. Yes Professor Butler I sexually fantasize about you in class and want to make it a reality. I saw you pleasuring yourself and I know you want me too… you cut your thoughts short. You know he’s already made up his mind about how far he will go and he would never go for that.

The tension amplifies between you two quiet moment.

“Let me see your notes.” He demands and your eyes go wide.

“M-my notes?” You ask in shock, you know only his name is written in your notebook surrounded by hearts.

“Yes your notes the ones you should’ve been taking as I was speaking today. I practically outlined the test, but you would know if you were paying any attention.” He says giving you a glance.

Your heart beats wildly from his direct line of questioning, when he sees you are speechless he continues it.

“What are you always thinking about when I’m talking?” He asks as he walks around his desk and sits on the edge. He crosses his arms and slightly rests back directly in front of you. Your eyes immediately fall to the outline of his enormous cock in his jeans when he sits that way.

Your face flushes pink as you begin to feel so much arousal you can’t breathe all you keep thinking about is him pleasuring his big cock.

“Professor Butler I…” your words stick because you are very apprehensive to straight admit your feelings for him now.

You try again changing your answer “Professor Butler I think about other things when I should be focused on your class.” You admit.

He gives you a look of disappointment. “You second guess yourself” he says and you nod quickly hoping to be off the hook.

“Let’s go over the practice test we did in class today to see where the second guessing starts, would you like that ?” He asks uncrossing his arms.You are so grateful you literally want to kiss him.

“Yes please Professor Butler I would like that so much.” You say feeling hopeful.

He walks across the class and pulls a chair to his desk replacing it with his so you can sit with him. He motions for you to sit in his desk chair.

You feel a smile form on your face as you walk around his desk. This is the first time you’ve been alone with him in weeks and you know he has the magical key that will unlock math in your brain. You drop your back pack and sit down in his comfortable desk chair.

Your heart flutters wildly as he sits directly next to you. His sandy brown hair is feathered beautifully, his smell is pleasant, and his side profile is stunning.

You watch how his eyes sternly study your practice test looking over each answer encircled in red. He suddenly leans over you making your heart skip as he reaches his hand into the desk drawer pulling a pencil and a piece of paper.

He places them on the surface in front of you getting right to business.

“Write out this equation for me” he says placing your practice test down and pointing to question one. You slowly write out the equation in your nicest handwriting.

“Okay start breaking it into smaller equations to simplify it” he instructs. You look up to him clueless obviously you don’t know how.

He takes a deep breath. “Always so distracted ” he mutters under his breath. It shocks you that he would call you out so harshly and your heart sinks thinking this is the last time he will ever help you.

He begins to break down the equation easily his hand scribbles across your test quickly with his years of expertise on the subject.

“Try again” he says pointing to number three. You peer at his handwriting from number one to discern what he did because number three is a similar equation.

You complete the work and slide the test to him after encircling a new answer. He looks it over and his mouth curves into a smile.

“I did it right?” You ask eagerly awaiting his response.

“Well there’s a reason you’ve always been my favorite student, you are a quick learner.” he admits smiling at you before he leans over to collect your scratch paper. You can’t contain your grin when he says you are still his favorite.

“You did that so easily your steps are flawless, I taught this on Tuesday why couldn’t you grasp the concept then?” He asks earnestly studying your scratch work.

You think back in your mind to Tuesday that was his blue sweater day with light denim jeans you weren’t thinking about a thing when he wore that outfit.

“On Tuesday I wasn’t feeling well” you muster up picking at the hem of your skirt.

He tilts his head down catching your lie.

“Because your were too focused on me instead of what I was saying right” your eyes go wide all you do is stare at him and daydream, it’s impossible not to you want him so badly.

He sits back and smiles “Eye fucking is what I believe they call it “ he says smugly resting his hand across his chin gauging your reaction.

You begin to squirm and fidget as your breathing increases. You feel as if you've committed some illegal crime.

“Professor Butler I would never do that” you lie panicked tugging harder at the hem of you skirt. He suddenly gets up leaving you at his desk and goes to the door of the classroom. He locks it while you sit in place.

The energy in the room immediately changes once the lock clicks and he walks back toward you with his demeanor changed.

He stands in-front of you so closely in your chair you have to stare up at him. “Do you already know you are going to fail the test tomorrow? Be honest with me.” He says directly.

You nod “Yes of course Professor, I haven’t been taking notes or paying attention in any of your classes for weeks. I already know Im going to fail.” You say honestly.

“Is that why you flashed me your panties today?” he asks sternly as his breathing increases. “Is that what your are doing now hm? Soliciting yourself to me to improve your grade?”

Your eyes snap up to his in shock “Professor no I-I wasn’t I wouldn’t” you confess. He waits for you to nervously fidget but you are telling the truth.

You look up at him innocently “It was an honest mistake…but I can see why you would think it was on purpose. I do think of you sexually during class Professor Butler.” You out right admit

He smiles and kneels down placing his hands on the armrests trapping you in his desk chair. He turns you to face him loving the fact that you finally admitted it.

“I feel your eyes staring at me all the time during class. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing I’ve caught you staring at my cock over a dozen times now.” He says studying your body’s reaction to see how badly you want him.

Your privates begin to pulse just from him saying the word cock and you squeeze your thighs together tightly trying to contain your arousal.

The move doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he goes all in to have you.

“That’s why I never look at you during class. You have the most lustful eyes I have ever seen.” He says seductively.

Your breathing increases as he stares at you trapped by him in his chair. His eyes wander your body lustfully until he meets your gaze again.

“When I look at you I lose all my focus because I can’t get it out of my head how badly you need me to fuck you.” He says deliberately.

You let out a slight whimper

He leans in closer as you stare at his lips absorbing every word. “I think I have a solution to both of our problems, one that will fix your grade and satisfy your lust at the same time.” when he says those words your arousal goes through the roof. “I know you saw me pleasuring my self to your photo, I know I’m the reason your failing.” He confesses staring down between your thighs.

“Do you want me to improve your grade?” He asks staring back into your eyes as you readily nod. “Do you want me to satisfy your lust for me?” He asks staring at your lips.

“Y-yes please help me Professor Butler” you desperately beg. He smiles at your eagerness. “alright I’ll help you.” His says seductively.

“Before we start I have ground rules” he affirms as you stare back at him. “I’m separated but I’m still married, I could get in big trouble for this.” He says holding up his wedding ring finger as he continues “My job will be in jeopardy as well but I really want you to pass, so this has to stay our little secret, can you do that for me?“ he asks with his eyes locked on yours.

“Yes Professor Butler it will be our little secret.” You agree.

“Call me Austin” he says with a grin.

“Yes Austin it will be our little secret” you confirm

"I know you’ll keep our secret because you want this just as badly as I do. Now lift up your skirt for me” he commands

You look him in the eyes and theres a brief moment you think of stopping, but you know how badly you want him deep inside. Your hands lift your skirt pulling it all the way up your thighs exposing your panties to him.

“Fuck.” He says above a whisper seeing your already wet for him. “This is even hotter than I imagined it” he admits.

“Y-you imagine being with me Profess- - Austin?” You ask in surprise.

He trails his hand along your thighs as he speaks

“I have imagined you like this so many times, fucking you on my desk as you stare at me with those lustful eyes.” He confesses as his hand slides under your skirt skimming his fingers across the silk material of your panties. You gasp in pleasure from the feeling. “Have you ever touched yourself while you think of me” he asks as he rests his hands on your knees.

“Yes Austin” You pant out and he smiles.

“Tell me how you do it” he asks and you whimper as he leans in close and his lips slowly brush against your neck. He gently sucks onto your skin and you finally touch him reaching your hands up and running your fingers through his soft sandy brown hair as you answer.

“I-in my bed at night I think of you on top of me” you confess as he sucks your neck harder. “ a-and in the shower I imagine you infront of me.” He pulls his lips from your neck and smiles.

“The way you obey me so easily you must have been aching for me badly haven’t you?” He asks teasingly and it makes you want him even more “Open your legs for me.” he commands.

You obey and spread your legs wide open as he touches both of your thighs sliding his fingertips higher up to your pussy. You whimper as he trails them back down to stroking your legs again.

Your body is already craving his every touch and your chest begins rising and falling rapidly as he brings his hands up your thighs again. This time he strokes your pussy through the smooth fabric of your panties making you lightly moan.

“You are so wet for me” he observes as his finger tips trail your folds stopping at the nub of your clit.

"My touch feels good doesn't it?" he asks pushing his fingers against the fabric over your clit. You clench inside as he continues to guide his fingers down your pussy pressing the fabric into your folds

“You feel so good Austin” you admit with your eyes closed in passion.

Your breaths are already fast and shallow trying to hold yourself together and he hasn’t even done anything yet

"Do you know what I want to do to you?" He asks peering into your eyes as you open them.

It is very obvious what he wants to do to you as he plays with your pussy, but you still desperately want to hear him say the words, and as if he was waiting for you to ask he answers

“I'm going to play with your little pussy until I make you cum, and then I want you to make me come too” he says and slides his fingers up and down your slit, forcing the fabric against your folds as you moan.

Your back arcs as he finds your clit and presses down on it flicking his fingertip to it and making you moan even louder. He stops flicking your clit and slowly massages it alternating with stroking your pussy.

"Oh god! Austin" you cry out, gripping the edges of the chair as he fully focuses on flicking your clit.

Hearing the squishing sounds of your wetness he stops and pushes the band of your panties to the side. His fingers touch your naked flesh and you begin moaning and clenching around nothing as he fingers your bare clit and teases the inside of your folds. He doesn’t stop until you are dripping for him.

"Get naked for me.” He comands and you obey with your fingers shaking as you take off your shirt and your bra.

Once you are topless he leans in and begins licking the smooth skin around your nipples.

His fingers are still playing with your pussy, holding the band of your panties aside with his middle finger plunging inside of you as his thumb slides around your clit.

"Do you like what I’m doing to you " he asks between licks of your nipples as he slides his fingers into you. You nod with your mouth open panting because you can’t even form the words. "You're going to cum, aren't you?” He asks smiling as he feels your legs quiver against his hand.

“Y-yes!” You struggle to say.

This has always been his secret desire playing with your body for his sexual gratification.

He drew you in to push you out he wanted you afraid yet enraptured to have him, it thrilled him to manipulate you. He had been right about you all along, his favorite student, to be used and pleasured by him and only him it drove him absolutely crazy.

“You’re going to cum for me, cum right in my fucking hand and I’ll give you a C” He says increasing his pace.

"Oh god Austin," you moan out and buck your hips in time with his hand to give him exactly what he wants. Your hips and thighs flex pushing onto his fingers and his eyes hyper focus as he feels you clench down and orgasm.

He is so satisfied when he feels your warm cum pour over his plundering fingers that he begins cursing “fuck yes give it all to me” he pants out with his hand getting covered in your clear cum.

Your head falls back in ecstasy as he removes his fingers. “Lay over my desk I want to eat your pussy.” He commands your actions are delayed from the orgasm so he lifts you to stand from your chair and guides you to lay face down bent over his desk. He pulls the fabric of your skirt up to expose your ass and places his hands on the backs of your thighs kneading his thumbs on the soft flesh.

“Fuck your so perfect”. He says pulling the band of your panties to peek at your pussy “Your gonna taste so good Im presumptively raising your grade to a B” he says as you moan from his words. He focuses all his attention between your legs pushing the silky fabric of your panties into your clit “You gave me such a hard on today with your legs spread like that.” He says pulling your panties down as they cling to your wetness.

Once you step out of them he hides your panties in his shoulder bag under his desk. He immediately spreads your thighs apart with his hands and dives his mouth onto your pussy. “MMmmf” he sounds out clearly enjoying it

“M-my…god…A-austin” you moan out as your brain goes fuzzy from so many sensations running though your body at once.

He cups your ass licking your pussy harder and lifts your hips thrusting his tongue into your core as he groans. “You taste so fucking good” he says coming up for air as you whimper and moan on his desk.

He returns his mouth on you and it begins making slopping wet sounds as he flicks his tongue into your entrance and sucks your folds. Your core tightens so quickly you gasp for air from the pleasure as you squirm on his desk.

He pulls his mouth back. “Your pussy tastes so good that’s definitely B+” he admits and slides his long fingers into you pumping them in and out preparing you for his cock .

“A-au…Aus…tin…you…feel ….too …good.” you moan out on each thrust of his fingers.

“You gonna go back to your dorm after and touch yourself like this? You gonna play with your pretty pussy while you think of me?” He rasps

“Y-yes A-Austin ”you moan out louder than you expected losing your mind about to cum.

He slows his fingers inside of you. “Shhh shh we’re having too much fun I dont want to get caught.” He says smiling. You nod and he continues sinking his fingers into your soaked pussy.

You bring your hand to your mouth to stifle your moans as he goes faster thrusting his fingers into the sweet spot that makes you go weak for him.

You begin to moan louder feeling your core tightens as you clench on his fingers. “You’re close.” He says breathlessly. “You gonna cum again so I can give you an A?” He asks and you nod feverishly as you moan out “Yes… Austin” your words muffle as you moan through your hand.

He removes his fingers leaving you empty and picks your limp body up against him. “Come on home stretch I want to look at you while I fuck you.” He directs lifting you easily by your waist to sit on his desks. He spreads your legs apart and then unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants.

He pulls his erection out and the sheer magnitude of its presence leaves you in awe. It’s a moment of revelation surpassing all of your expectations as you are humbled wondering how he will fit it all inside of you.

You look into his eyes with a clash of curiosity and desire, and that’s all he needs. He pulls your body flush with his trapping his cock between your navels as holds you tightly against him. His lips collide with yours in a hunger that borders on primal. There’s a rawness to it and an urgency that ignites every fibre of your being.

As you open your mouth to his it is a tumultuous dance of tongues and lips, where the line between pleasure and pain blurs as he bites your lower lip in the heat of the moment. In that whirlwind of sensation, you’re swept away by the intensity of Austins kiss, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his embrace. You whimper in his mouth as he kisses you already so overwhelmed you can no longer think.

He pulls his lips back from yours panting as he studies your face “You’re so gorgeous to me I’ve always wanted you” he admits. His fingertips trace delicate patterns on your skin leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake as he looks into your eyes. His gaze is instilled with so much intimacy and connection you instantly feel the silent reassurance that you are safe and cherished.

“I’m going to make you mine now” he says sending chills all over your body.

He takes his long cock in his hand, pumping it as he spreads your legs apart again and positions himself at your entrance. He slowly pushes in taking his time to fill you with his entire cock making sure each inch is more pleasurable than the last .

“A-A-Austin!…Oh my fuck” you moan out feeling him stretching you full of him. You grip the back of his neck and moan loudly as he settles in you.

He sucks harshly on neck while tweaking your nipples and it makes your core throb as you clench on his large girth. He begins moving and your mind empties of every rational thought as you loudly moan out his name and he covers your mouth. His skin slaps against yours as he takes control of your body. His thrusts are hard and and fast as he grunts against your neck kissing and sucking it.

“Fuck you're so tight” he finally says focusing on thrusting even harder “you …feel so damn good …on my cock…even better than I imagined it.” He admits staring into your lustful eyes.

His thrusts begin to falter as his timing grows erratic and you feel the familiar tightening in your core again. Your moans are desperate and can no longer be held by just his hand.

He kisses you roughly to hold your loud pleasurable screams in as you experience the pure raw mind altering passion that can only be delivered on a huge cock. It’s something you’d never experienced in your entire life and now you were addicted.

“A-Austin I’m cumming .” You cry out gripping the edge of his desk as the orgasm sends a wave of ecstasy crashing over your entire body leaving you breathless. Your pelvic muscles tense and relax in rhythmic waves as pleasure pulses through every nerve ending of your body. “ oh fuck Austin oh fuck!” You cry out feeling yourself release cum all over his cock, onto your thighs and even his desk.

It’s dripping down your thighs as he says “holy shit” feeling you so wet his large cock practically glides in and out of you “That’s ……an ……A+… fuck I'm gonna cum!-“ he gasps.

When you feel his large cock twitch it make you cry out much louder than you should have and he pulls out shooting hot ropes of white hot cum all over your navel, moaning, grunting sweating and swearing until he’s empty.

“Hold still .” He says breathless leaning down to open a drawer. He pulls several sheets from a paper towel roll and gently cleans up your thighs and pussy before patting your stomach clear of his cum. He places paper towels over the puddle on his desk between your legs to absorb it. He keeps one hand on your waist as he leans to discards them all in the bin under his desk.

He pulls you to the edge of the desk and holds you close as you come down from your incredible high. You are euphoric as he kisses you, but this time it is tender and passionate and you feel the softness of his full lips against yours.

His finger tips caress your jaw as he smiles. “I’ve wanted you from the first day you started my class, I was never going to let you fail.” He reveals making you smile.

“Cmon we have work to do. He says pulling you down from his desk. He collects your bra and shirt handing them over to you while he zips and buckles his pants. When you pull your top down he makes a confession. “Your panties are mine now.” He admits grinning as he pulls a clean test sheet from his desk.

He sits down and pulls you onto his lap. “Let’s go over the practice test together to get you a 90% and for the rest of the semester I’ll help you pass okay.“ he says handing you a pencil.

“Really Austin?“ You say feeling so elated you smile at him.

“Yes of course you are my favorite and I made you a promise you’re getting that A+ you earned it.” He says pressing an affectionate kiss to your shoulder.

When he says you are his favorite again your heart flutters and you eagerly get to work. He helps you with each equation gently instructing you over your shoulder until the entire test is a polished gem.

“Mm look how smart my girl is” he says making you bashfully smile looking over your shoulder at him. He stares at you mesmerized. “You made me so happy that every time you step into my classroom now I’ll have to hide my smile.” He admits staring at you as he affectionately trails his thumb across your shoulder.

“How do you feel now by the way.” He asks with genuine concern. Your smile says it all

“I feel really good Austin” You admit feeling the stress and tension lifted entirely.

He pulls you around on his lap to face him and looks into your eyes. “I don’t ever want you to fail my class ever again. I want to pick you up from your dorm every weekend, so we can go over the class work at my house. I know all of your teachers and I don’t want you to stress about college anymore I’ll help you with all of your subjects. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can, ultimately I want you to be happy and succeed, can you do that for me.” He asks honestly.

“Yes Austin” you say peering into his blue eyes. You feel very safe and secure as he wraps you in his arms sitting on his lap.

Knowing that he’ll guide and mentor you is a bonus you are grateful to receive. As you sit up in his lap your breaths mingle as you stare into each others eyes and his warmth envelops you completely. With a gentle approach you press a soft and tender kiss on his lips and he closes his eyes holding you tighter.

His lips explore and trace the contours of yours with a gentle connection of intimacy that makes time seem to stand still as you seal your connection of obsession and passion. As your fingers weave through the strands of his sandy brown hair, you realize everything in this moment feels right and you wish you told him your feelings sooner.

❤️‍🔥End ❤️‍🔥

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