#i have the one for next week already ready! i just like to be ahead of the schedule yk
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distinctlywhumpthing · 23 hours ago
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It's Never Too Late for Christmas
Alright, look. This might be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. It's barely 1000 words so don't anyone come for me saying I've gone soft. Probably takes place a few weeks after First Night Home. Due credit to @deluxewhump's Wishbone for getting me thinking of the smell of Home. Wow, see what I did there: Full circle.
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“Merry Christmas!” Leo says, immediately wanting to dial it back. He holds out the repurposed brown grocery bag between them. 
Aiden looks down, one arm crossing over his torso. “But...mmm’it’s not…” 
Definitely too much enthusiasm. 
Leo lowers the bag. “Right, yeah. I just thought—well, we only missed it by a few weeks…you know back when we met. I mean… It seemed like…” 
Why had this seemed like a good idea again? 
“It’s nothing big,” he tries but Aiden won’t look at him. Like Aiden’s the one who misstepped instead of vice versa. The kid grips his own arm like it’s a lifeline, fingertips digging into his flesh. Never mind that he’s wearing just a t-shirt in late February. Even with the heat a few degrees warmer than he used to keep it, Leo has to bite his tongue to not ask if he wants a sweatshirt. He tries to limit his questions to the ten thousand a day he can’t avoid. 
“I didn’t even wrap it really,” Leo rushes to say. “It’s never too late for Christmas. ‘Honour it in your heart and try to keep it all the year’, you know—” God, stop talking. “‘Live in the Past, the Present, and the Future’—”
Well, at least he got the kid’s attention. Albeit paired with a confused and I’m-embarrassed-for-you grimace. 
“Please, just take it. Put me out of my misery.” 
Aiden takes a half step back but he does. 
Because Leo told him to. Fuck, this was a terrible idea.  
He holds the bag from the bottom with both hands, as gingerly as if something might be alive in there. His eyes flash up to Leo’s before he reaches inside. He opens his mouth once, twice, like he’s trying to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he looks to Leo for permission again. 
“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” he says absently, still stuck on what Aiden stopped himself from saying. 
The way the kid reaches into the bag with all the gusto of sticking his hand into a live fire hollows Leo’s chest. Once his fingers meet fabric instead of whatever horrors he’s expecting, Aiden pulls the bundle out with a little more conviction. 
Leo relieves him of the bag, fingers unconsciously creasing it back up along all the seams, as he watches Aiden unfold the jacket. For the past few weeks, he’s lent Aiden his Carhartt and carried rather than worn an embarrassingly retro ski parka. 
“I—” He looks at Leo, something between disbelief and awe in his face. 
“Try it on—I mean, you can try it on if you want to,” he revises. 
He threads a skinny arm through the first sleeve. 
Leo reaches around to hold the jacket so he can reach the other. “It’s the same size as mine…so you can wear more layers while it’s cold.” 
Aiden fingers the ends of the sleeves. “Thank…you...” 
“The color suits you,” Leo blurts, caught off guard by the shy smile Aiden’s trying to hide while inspecting the coat. A total one-eighty he hopes isn’t just Aiden placating him. 
–––
“Aiden? Are you ready?” Leo calls up the stairs as he heads to the door to get his shoes on. “We need to leave in two minutes if we’re going to—” 
He’s already there. 
Standing by the door with the Converse pulled on, the laces tucked inside, and wearing Leo’s jacket. He bites his lips together as he pulls the zipper up, slow enough for Leo to stop him. When he reaches the top without interruption, he lets his gaze slide over to the new navy jacket, still hanging from its hook, and back to Leo. 
He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in and pulls on the coat. “I knew there was a reason I got this in my size.” 
“Color…mmm’s-s-suits…you,” Aiden says, tucking his chin into the soft collar of the old brown jacket, hiding what Leo is sure is a grin. 
Leo scoops him into a hug. “You’ve been plotting this from the beginning, haven’t you?” He swings them side to side a little, the gentlest roughhousing. Aiden shakes his head against Leo’s chest, he’s laughing now but trying to hide it. “This is absolutely not going to work when I buy you workboots. We are not the same size.” 
Aiden’s reply is muffled so Leo pulls back just far enough for him to lift his head. “Layers,” he repeats, barely able to get it out before he’s shaking with laughter again, pressing his face into Leo’s shoulder.  
“You’re incorrigible.” Before he can overthink it, he presses a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. He smells like home. His home. H— 
Leo backpedals against the possessiveness before he even completes the thought. 
But the part of him that spent countless nights wondering if he’d wake up to an empty house finds it profoundly comforting. The evidence that on the basest, organic level Aiden belongs to this home. Has been engrained in its rhythms and smells. The fabric softener from the sheets he tangles up every night, the lavender shower gel he picked out himself, toothpaste from brushing his teeth after the breakfast they cooked together. 
And not least of all, Leo himself. Wrapped up in his arms and wearing his old jacket. 
Home. 
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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess
@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump
@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings
@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup
@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump
@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain
@whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight @whumps-and-bumps
@i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney @alternateminds @taterswhump
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stinkrascal · 2 years ago
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its almost 8pm but im gonna make a coffee and prepare some poses for my next story post ☕️
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cry-ba-bys · 1 year ago
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YOU'RE AN ANGEL I'M A DOG OR YOU'RE A DOG AND I'M YOUR MAN YOU BELIVE ME LIKE A GOD I DESTROY YOU LIKE I AM
#Rant ahead I'm already sorry but yk. I'm actually not.#My mental health has been so bad in the last months and right now it feels like I will just never leave the stage of being a mentally ill#Loser. I know I've made so much progress over the years but right now everything hurts again and I feel more alone than ever. Maybe that's#Also why I made this blog but I'm not ready for that thought yet. I built such an amazing social circle with genuinely the most amazing#people ever around me and now I feel like I've destroyed everything again by just not answering them and completely isolating myself for#Fucking months and I can't tell if it's because my friends actually hate me now (which tbf I understand#I love them nonetheless.)#Or if it's just my bad mental state that's making me belive that#That and everything else that just seems to be going wrong is just so so much for me right now. I don't know how long I can do this anymore#But I also don't know any way out of this#I always end up like this and it's so annoying. How am I supposed to ever be a functional adult when talking to people is too much for me?#How am I ever supposed to believe someone can love me when I'm just the way I am#God I hate myself so much.#A few days a week I see one of my friends on the bus when we have to go to work and we chat until it's my stop. Its never more than 5#Minutes and it's always about school or work and because of that I feel more alone than ever. How am I ever supposed to built meaningful#Friendships If I know after next winter our conversations will just revolve around meaningless shit again. We used to joke about#Building a utopia through political action and we used to sit in a kitchen until 3 am and talk and talk and talk but it all felt so#Meaningful cause we were together and that made everything better. And now I talk to one of them if so happen to catch the bus at the same#Time and we talk about school. It fucking sucks#And it's all my fault
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sidemari · 19 days ago
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• NSFW Drabbles •
Pairings: Kaeya, Alhaitham, Neuvillete, Childe, Albedo, Kazuha, Dottore, Ayato, Wriosthesley [separately and in this order] x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Mature content ahead, so only 18+ are allowed to interact. Read responsibly and enjoy! Forgive me for any mistakes. This is a repost to check my blog's reach on this platform.
Kaeya
Helpless
"Ah, ah… Don't move" His voice was a mere whisper against your neck. Gelid fingers touched the very right places to make you squirm under his touch. You managed to overcome the sensation until his fingers caressed your bundle of nerves with the exactly intensity so a helplessly whimper could leave your lips. "Please… I-" "Be a good girl for me and take it like I please"
One of the ways Kaeya can make his lover helpless is using his powers. The sudden change of temperature always manages to get the most curious reactions out of you. Besides that, showing to his beloved he's the one who decides how, when and where things will happen based on his will is amusing to him. Seeing his baby completely at his mercy, unaware of what will happen next or what will be his next move make the adrenalin run through his veins. That feeling is addictive.
Alhaitham
Breeding kink
His grip around your hips was strong enough to almost leave marks on your skin. His pace wasn't really fast, he took his time savoring the sensations that your already claimed sex gave him every single time he almost got out of you just so he could bury himself inside of you once again. Soft whispers about his deepest fantasies and desires filled the cold air. "Alhaitham…" You barely managed to mumble. How long had you both been there? "Just one more time, love. I need you dripping with my seed" A vulnerable moan left his lips before his movements started faltering. "Do you want that, baby? Do you want to be claimed as mine this filthy way?"
You couldn't form words. His only answer were your whimpers.
"Do you need me to fuck my cum inside your womb? Can your little cunt take it?" His essence was already mixed with yours as your lovemaking marked the sheets.
Was it filthy? Disconcerting? Fuck it, his only goal that night was impregnating you for good.
"Will you be a good partner and bear our child inside your womb?" You assented weakly. "Kiss me like you mean it"
Neuvilette
Breeding kink
You were driving him insane. He needed to have his way with you soon or else it would be his ruin. Controlling his urges was an easy task till the day he saw you for the first time. So innocent, so ready to be his. So pretty, so alluring. You were the only thing that occupied his thoughts the last weeks. Neuvilette finally made the move and now you were finally his, completely bounded.
His eyes didn't leave yours while he kept pounding his cock inside your heat. The sounds you and your bodies made filled the Court of Fontaine's ambience. He knew that was outrageous but something about taking away your innocence in the place he exercised his authority every single day was enough to make him almost arrogant. It was him that was claiming you over and over again at that very salon. Your body was already fragile by the exhaustion but he kept going. He had to. His strong hands managed to support your body as he lifted you from his lap just enough so your hips could meet again. Every single encounter of your heats was enough to send shivers down his spine. His heart only desired one thing that dawn and it was bonding your souls forever with an heir. The only goal crossing his mind was making sure you left that place with his child being formed inside your womb. "I could mark you like this every day if that meant you'd be forever mine" Your hands squeezed his shoulders, earning a moan from his lips. "You like that? You squeeze me every time I say you belong to me and only me" His mouth sucked the skin from your neck so a hickey was now very visible. "Neuvi…" Your orgasm finally happened once again as the sun was now completely raised. He followed you, filling you up completely once again with his essence. You melted against him. His hands caressed the small of your back with delicacy, while soft reassuring words were mumbled against your ear. "You'll be such an angelic mother to our child" But was that even right? You both met not long ago. Little did you know he actually managed to breed you raw that occasion. Still, you suspected that was already happening by the time you kissed him deeply. "Make me yours once again. Claim me the way you always wanted, love"
Childe/Tartaglia
Breeding kink
Coming from a big family himself is only natural that Childe plans to have a family of his own. The only thing that was intriguing was how far he would get in order to make sure you'd be the mother of his children. He would leave the country for a mission that had to deadline to finish and that filled his being with angst. How long would you stay apart? How long will his dream have to wait? You had been trying for a child it's been a while, still that didn't really happen. He kept reassuring you every single time it turned out you weren't pregnant, but it was inevitable that Childe's heart just sank at the possibility of never having his own family. "I'm sorry" You whispered that night. "I just don't know what's wrong with me" "Hey, look at me" His fingers cupped your face. "We'll figure it out together, deal? Just don't feel guilty about any of this" Cleaning your tears with his thumb, he started undressing you with delicacy.
It would be your last night together until heaven knows when you'd be reunited.
He made love to you that night. It wasn't just about sex. It was about tying your souls together while you both tried to conceive a life. The ultimate sign of your love. The proof of your love.
He pulled you to a kiss that lasted as long as it could, only being broken whenever you both needed to breathe properly or when his movements were somewhat harsher. When you parted, your hands caressed his soft hair as you admired him. "What's it, my girl?" He asked before a giggle left his lips. "Do you want me to go harder?" "I just want you so much" His skilled fingers rubbed your sensitive clit while his tongue worked around your nipple. "Fuck… Just like that…" Your back arched when his tip reached the deepest part within you until now as the constant sucking at your nipple made you crumble under him. "Fill me up, please" You begged, as you squeezed your legs around his waist. "Say that again, doll" "Fill me to the brim. I need all of it" "Does my girl need another load of her lover's cum inside of her? Tell me, what does my pretty girl want from me?" "I need you to cum inside of me, don't stop until I'm full of you"
He smiled. He would give you exactly what you wanted.
Once again he finished inside you, filling your walls with his seed. He pounded it into you a few more times as your walls squeezed him. He was still inside of you when you guided his hands to your lower belly, pressing his palm against the discrete bulge his cock created. "I promise when you return, we'll have had our son" He smiled against your lips. "How do you even know it will be a boy? Or if I even managed to knock you up?" "Intuition"
You were right. The next winter was spent with the newest addition of your family: a little copy of his dad.
Albedo
Aftercare, Breeding kink, and "Sadism"
It was snowing when he first met yout. Such a cold day and still you were at Dragonspine. All alone and quiet. You always managed to take care of yourself even in the most dangerous place of the nation. Nothing of the dreads of that biome managed to caught you unprepared. That was the main reason he started paying attention to you whenever he saw your frame from his laboratory.
"Why were you even there that day?" He caressed your wet hair, letting all your worries dissappear for some minutes. "I was looking for some time alone"
The warm water from the bathtub felt like heaven after an entire day at Dragonspine helping the alchemist.
"I see…" He muttered, before getting lost in thoughts once again. "Albedo?" "Yes?" "You're so quiet… Is everything alright?"
His eyes finally met yours after long moments of waiting. "I'm good, yes. Why the question?" "You're different since this afternoon" "That kid seemed to like you" He ignored your statement. "What?" "The lost kid, remember? The one we helped finding their parents at the camp today" "Oh… I think they were just scared. Drogonspine can be terrifying sometimes" "You looked so beautiful carrying him"
He broke the eye contact. But you noticed his gaze getting darker.
"What do you mean by that?" You asked, still afraid of his answer. "I just can't stop imagining you carrying a child of ours, is all. But I guess it's just an ephemeral thought, it'll pass"
It wasn't an ephemeral thought. And it didn't pass for his ruin. Over and over again the only thing that kept taking his focus away was the idea of claiming and breeding you with all of his devotion.
That night he would get what he craved. He needed to get what he wanted.
You said you'd think about trying for a baby and long weeks passed since you promised that. He started getting impatient.
"Bedo, your tea is ready come and-" You said softly before you felt him hugging you from behind. "Clingy, aren’t we?" "Have you made up your mind?" "I did" His eyes lifted to meet yours, searching for the unspoken answer. He pulled you to a kiss that took you a moment to accept. "Finally" He mumbled against your lips. He guided you to your bedroom as fhe tea got cold on the counter.
(…)
You were on all fours as he pounded inside of you mercilessly - almost reaching your cervix with every single thrust of his.
Was that your forth or fifth orgasm? You didn't really know. The only thing that mattered to you was the perfect way your lover was fucking you raw that night.
"T-Too much…" You gasped, unable to stay in the same position for much more. The grip on your hair became strong enough to cause discomfort - a whimper of pain leaving your lips. "Stay on the fucking same position if you still wanna cum tonight" Now both of his hands were on your hips, nails sinking into your skin - causing discomfort and still, you begged for more. "You're so pretty like this… You're taking me so well, my love"
He stopped his movements. "Albedo?" "On your back"
Pining you against the mattress, he started pounding you once again. His tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple while his hips didn’t falter one single time. Leaving your hips for some seconds, his hand went to gather a device from the pocket of his jacket, still it wasn't the time to use it. The constant sucking of your nipples brought tears to your eyes as you struggled to stay present in the moment.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked, taking away the hair from your face. "Fuck no… I need to get the most of you"
You weakly guided his hand to your neck. He understood what you wanted. Squeezing your neck enough to see you melt under him, his movements continued. "Harder" You whimpered. He squeezed your neck once again but his grip was way more firm this time. "Say that again" "Fuck me harder" He smiled. "You're perfect"
His thrusts became so vicious you knew you'd be sore in the morning. But still, you ignited a flame within him you didn't regret.
"It hurts…" You gasped when you felt his teeth sank against the soft flesh of your neck. "I'm glad it does"
He was marking you all the ways he could. You'd now carry those marks who would take long days to fade away.
"Do you like when I do these things to you?" You could only weakly agree.
One single touch at that point and you'd be squirming under him. You were so close.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to sink him deeper within you as you both finally finished together.
Uneasy breathing. Sore bodies. Devotion.
"I wish I could stay right here forever" He sighed, before pulling out. Quickly enough to not waste a single drop out of his essence, he put the small plug that once was hidden in his pocket to use.
Collapsing by your side, he pulled you to a kiss, caressing your cheek with him thumb while his hands cupped your face. "Did I went to too far?" You shook your head. "It was probably the best night I've had"
A chuckle left his lips. "Let me check you" The tip of his fingers trailed your skin with delicacy, checking for anything that could cause you discomfort later.
"Those hickeys look like they'll be hurting in the next few days" He touched one of them, noticing how you shivered under his touch. "I'll make sure I'll kiss them better everyday until they're gone" "Does your neck hurt?" He pressed kisses against your neck and collarbones. "No, no at all" "Good"
The knuckles of his fingers caressed your lower belly with love as he looked lost in thoughts. You kissed his forehead. "Already thinking about them?" "Am I so predictable?" "I guess you're sometimes"
Putting his hair behind his ears, you pulled him to another kiss that last longer than before. You thought you were done for the night till you felt his erection against your thigh.
"What about the tea I made?" He smiled. "Forget the tea" He breathed against your lips "Let me love you again, until dawn comes"
Kaedehara Kazuha
Breeding kink, Exhibitionism
The smell of rain was almost fading by the time you both entered the onsen. The sun was almost setting as you both walked through the warm waters. Feeling the stress melt against his touch, you sighed loudly, allowing his firm hands massage your tension away. "I wish we could stay like this forever" He kissed your shoulder. "Let us enjoy the few moments we got alone tonight" His hand traveled to your breasts, squeezing them just so he could get a gasp from you. "Kazu… Here?" "I don't really mind anyone seeing me claiming you under the moon, my muse" You could feel his grin against your nape. "May I?" You consented.
His lips pressed kisses against your shoulders as you took your hair out of the way. His fingers abused both of your nipples with the perfect pressure and movements. You sighed his name when he pulled you against his body, making you feel his erection. "See what you do to me, love?" His fingers opened your mouth. "Suck them"
You did. Just like the way he pleased.
His hand hoovered against the skin of your hips until he finally reached your heat, opening your folds so he could prepare you for him. "Just do it already…" You begged.
He listened something. The same sound as if someone was fuzzing around the sand covered floor.
"I think someone may be watching us" He whispered against your ear. "I'll let them know who you belong to" His hand guided his cock to tease your sex, collecting some of your own essence so he could bury himself into you with ease.
You whimpered. He smiled, knowing that if someone was truly watching you they'd be startled by now.
Setting a fast pace, Kazuha abused your sensitive hole deliciously as you struggled to stay grounded. If it weren't by his strong grip on your waist, you'd be on your knees because of his hard thrusts. "Kazuha-" You gasped as your body jerked with the shock of his hips meeting yours. "Harder"
He wasn't really fond of spanking. But he had to put up a show for the stupid man watching you.
His hand slapped your ass strong enough to make you squirm. Your walls squeezed him harder as precum already painted your insides.
"You like that?" Another slap came. "Do you like when I fuck you like this, my girl?"
You didn't manage to answer. So he stopped his movements abruptly.
"Kazuha?" "Answer me if you wanna cum"
A sinful moan left your lips when his hand gripped your hair. "Say it. Say how you like it and how much you need me fucking you dumb" His thrusts started once again, for heaven's sake. "Fuck… Just l-like that" You gasped. "Fuck me until the only thing I think is you"
It was the first time you both didn't use protection but you or especially him couldn't give a single fuck about it.
It was finally time his deepest fantasies would be fulfilled.
"Do you want me to cum inside of you, uh?" The hair pulling became stronger. "Do you want to feel for once what's like being filled up with cum?" "Fuck yes… Please d-don't stop" "What would people think if they knew their so loved (Name) is begging to receive a creampie?"
He teased you about the thing you cared the most - the reputation of a pure person. Your cheeks got red at the thought. But you couldn't ignore your urges.
"Would you still beg me to breed you? Would you simply ignore people's opinions about how dirty you can be?" "Yes… Yes, if that meant you'd claim me over and over again, marking me whole"
Was the person still watching? He smiled at your devotion.
You both came together. Your legs faltered when your orgasm hit you, but he managed to hold you in place as thick ropes of cum filled your insides.
"Warm…" You mumbled. "How does it feel?" He asked, still thrusting his cum inside you as if he could make his seed reach even deeper within you. "Archons… It feels s-so good"
He pulled out, soon noticing the shadow of someone was still there outside. His lips curled in a smirk. His little show was a success. But the person didn't leave.
You felt some of your mixed essence seeping against your inner thigh right before Kazuha spoke amused; "Oh, you're wasting it. I think I may need to fuck you again" The man guided you to the corner of the onsen, where he laid on the ground. "Come here, allow me to clean you up before I claim you again"
You were always shy about that particular and common invite of his, but his soft gaze reassured you it was alright. He truly meant it.
Positioning your sex right at his mouth, your hands leaned on the sides of his head as he gripped your hips firmly. His warm tongue swirled around your clit as you pressed yourself more against his face.
"Fuck, just like that…" Kazuha moaned when you pulled his hair and guided his head soflty upwards against your heat. "I can never get enough of you" His words were sloppy.
He finished his task with some kisses against your thighs just so he could tease you again.
"So clean and so ready to be ruined again"
You adjusted yourself so your lips were on the same level as his. Pulling him to a kiss, you tasted yours and his own essence on his tongue. It was addicting.
"What if I knocked you up? Ah, f-fuck" He broke the kiss but didn't get to finish his line as you buried himself inside of you once again. "I'd gladly carry our child"
Dottore
Breeding kink, Obsession
The room was torturously cold. As he was writing the results of his latest research, you were nearby curiously watching him. He noticed your gaze way quicker than you expected. "Is something the matter?" He said softly, tapping his lap so you'd stay closer to him. "I'm fine" You mumbled, adjusting yourself on his lap. "I'm just cold"
By that time you already knew that following all of his commands was the only thing you could do to save your skin. Show hesitation, resistance or even fear had always awaken something even worse inside of him. Something you weren't willing to deal with that night.
One of his hands caressed your hair as the other finished his notes for the day. "Haven't you got used to the temperature by this time?" He smiled against your forehead. "It's been months since I rescued you"
Rescued.
More like taking you away from your own life.
But why? Why did it feel so right being by his side?
"Take off your clothes, pet" He purred, his eyes challenging you.
Dottore's dark gaze never left yours as you obeyed, removing your shirt and trousers to reveal the frame he was obsessed with. He licked his lips as he looked at you, admiring every curve of your body, the way your nipples were so sensitive to the room's temperature, the blush on your cheeks… Fuck, he could ruin you right now.
You were wet by just looking at him, your body responding to his dominant presence and the anticipation of what was to come. Turning around, you landed gracefully against the bed.
Your eyes locked as he closed the distance between you, stepping onto the sheets. His movements were calculated, confident, hungry.
He reached for you, pulling you close and crushing your lips together, your tongues dancing as they tasted on each other's lips.
You moaned, feeling your whole body light up at his touch.
You could feel his stiff cock pressing against your stomach and your core throbbed with desire. She pushed him away, just enough to look him in the eyes.
You leaned in and whispered in his ear, "I want you to fuck me. I want you to breed me." Your words ignited a primal urge in him. Dottore grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, positioning himself at your entrance. "Are you ready for me, pet?" He asked, his voice husky with desire. "Yes… I'm always ready for you " You breathed, your voice barely audible as you looked into his eyes.
He thrust into you, filling your tight pussy with his thick cock. You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to pound into you, each thrust was harder than the last, leaving you breathless and dizzy with pleasure.
"I can't get enough of you," He grunted, as he continued his movements. Your whole body was shaking with pleasure as he filled you up, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Harder…" You begged, reaching up to grip into his arms. Dottore obliged, ramping up his speed and force until the release was so close you both couldn't postpone it anymore. He painted your insides white, a chuckle leaving his lips. "Perhaps capturing you wasn't a bad idea at all, huh?"
Kamisato Ayato
Foreplay and Teasing
Heading a clan was exhausting. Sometimes it could be terrifying. But he had you, and that meant everything would be okay in the end. He truly believed that.
Ayato pinched his eyebridge in frustration. "Ayato… I can call this meeting over" "It's okay, I think they'll shut up at some point"
Your hand traveled down the table so you could caress his thigh. Your nails were the right lenght to send shivers down his spine while you kept hovering against the fabric of his clothes - going up towards his waist, before almost reaching his knees and swirling patters against his inner thigh. "Love… I-" "Shh, they'll notice something if you change your behavior" You mumbled against his ear.
His was already hard. So little stimulation from you was enough to drive him completely insane.
You squeezed the bulge that ached against his pants and soon your fingers were occupied caressing the exact area of the tip.
You could see some of his tension being washing away and his impatience were switched to retrained uneasiness.
Some other important members of the Tenryou Commission were speaking the most obvious things an Inazuma person could hear. The both of you didn't deserve that.
Ayato faked he was fixing something on his gloves to try and distract himself from the fact your hands were now at the brim of his pants, ready to touch his aching cock.
"May I?" You asked for consent with your gaze. He assented.
He was seeping some tea when your fingers started stimulating his tip. Swallowing hardly, Ayato's just hoped your actions wouldn't be noticed. Using his precum, you managed to make small movements against his shaft just so he could squirm in his place, as if he was adjusting himself against his seat.
"This isn't fair…" He muttered when an agitation rose between the guests of the reunion. "I can't wait to be inside of you" - It sounded almost as a cry. "I can always call the meeting over but I guess you just like being teased" "You're so done when I get to have you"
He managed to keep it cool and fake everything was alright until his orgasm was almost hitting him.
"I think we can discuss the rest later" He said firmly, as you stopped your dirty work and fixed his clothes without earning attention.
"My office?" "Sure, I'll be there"
He was already so ready when you arrived. Completely naked, sat on his armchair. Only with a thin sheet covering him - thin enough so you could see his frame while he stimulated his tip with his index.
Locking the door, you got on your knees.
"Did you plan any of this?" He asked quietly, letting the sheets slip against his body and form a puddle on his feet. "It wasn't like you" "You mean I can't be a tease?" "No. I mean I'm the one who usually teases you. But I'm willing to see more of that"
You licked his tip before taking part of him inside your mouth. "Fuck… Just like that" His hands guided your movements, but you still didn't take him fully in your mouth, instead, you played with his balls while you sucked him the way he pleased. "It may feel so good having you mouth occupied for once, uh?" With that, your hand squeezed hard the part of his cock you couldn't take in your mouth. "Oh fuck… You're so hot like that… Suck me dry, love. Be a good girl for me and let me cum in that mouth"
One of your hands went to your heat. Archons, you were dripping. So ready to take him completely. So ready to be fucked raw inside that office.
His hands pulled your hair up. He was almost there. For once, you took him entirely inside your mouth, fastening your movements. "Cum, master" You said before you licked the precum seeping out of his tip. "I want you to cum inside my mouth"
He did. And you showed your mouth full of his seed to him before swallowing all of it. You licked his cock clean before pressing his tip against your lips in a final kiss.
He was still hard enough to continue. Sitting on his lap, you teased his tip with your folds, wetting his cock just enough to bury itself into you with ease.
"Show me if I did good to you this morning"
Wriosthesley
Offer
He didn't seem to like your presence a single bit, his eyes swallowing you mercilessly as an dissatisfied expression was all over his face. "Do you need anything more, my grace?" You asked quietly, trying to return to your dorm as quickly as possible.
He could be terrifying if he wanted. His presence by itself was already so full of authority you felt your heart race at the thought of possibly irritating him.
"Come closer" He finally spoke. "No need to stay so far away when you're talking to me" You got closer to him awkwardly.
"Anything else I could do for you?"
He chuckled.
"So formal…" He took a sip of his tea. "Could you lock the door?" "I beg your pardon, my grace?" He got out of his place
What was he up to? You obeyed him. Looking at him curiously, you kept silent.
Leaning in to a kiss, he locked the door behind you before pressing your body against the door frame as he gained dominance. "I missed you" He said between kisses. "I thought we wouldn't keep in touch after last time" "Staying away from you would be the ruin of me" His lips pressed against that exact sensitive spot of your neck that always had you squirming under him in those past nights. "Wriosthesley…" You breathed out. "I should go now. It's the best I can do" "Your body says otherwise"
His fingers played with the buttons from your shirt, as if he was testing your fidelity to the promise you made long ago about not mixing work and feelings.
"One last time together and I'll set you free"
What a cunning offer.
"One last time" You whispered, before pulling him to a kiss.
Like a butterfly trapped in a spiderweb, his presence was enough to always pull you towards him.
"Get on your knees," He commanded, his voice dripping with lust as he broke the kiss.
You obeyed, sinking to your knees as you looked up at him. His gaze was full of hunger and dominance, a heady combination that made you even wetter. You reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, feeling its hardness straining against your soft palm.
You stroked him gently, teasing him as pre-cum dripped from the tip of his cock.
"Fuck, that feels so good," Wriosthesley groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he continued to gently stroke him. "Be a good girl and suck me dry"
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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life. 
Neither of you speak. 
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. 
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 
“Love you back?”
You blink. 
Your stomach drops. 
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 
What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 
He swallows. 
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 
“Wait.”
He says your name.  
And of course you pause. 
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink. 
And for some reason, begin sobbing. 
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath. 
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 
“How could I not be so in love with you?” 
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog. 
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 
Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 
And he’s laughing. 
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly. 
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod. 
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 
“Hey.” 
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised. 
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 
But at the same time—everything’s different. 
And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
-
part seven
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elikajinnie · 3 months ago
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Tokyo Drift - N.R
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P: Racer!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Teasing, Possessive Behaviour, Fluff
Synopsis: In the heart of the underground racing scene, you are a passionate starter, known for your ability to ignite excitement before each race. When you first meet Nishimura Ni-ki, a legendary driver, you are initially intimidated by him. However during the races you capture his attention.
a/n: knowing you have the attention of someone like Ni-ki is exciting tbh.. ANYWAYS i am a HUGE lover of the fast & furious franchise so this was quite overdue!! (inspired by this edit : TikTok - Make Your Day)
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"I don't get why I have to be there for every race you do," you said, glancing over at your friend, who was gripping the steering wheel with one hand, the other casually shifting gears.
"Because you're the starter," he replied, his tone like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"There are other starters," you shot back. "I'm not the only one."
He raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Do you have anything better to do than attend these races?"
You opened your mouth, ready with a rebuttal, but nothing came. After a beat, you closed your mouth and sank back into the seat.
"Yeah, exactly," he said, smug. "Plus, it's good for you to get out and meet new people."
The music from the radio blared a little louder as he cranked up the volume. You sighed, fiddling with the edge of your shirt.
"And it gives you more insight for the big race next month," he added, his eyes focused on the road ahead as the car sped past traffic.
"But that's weeks away," you mumbled under your breath, shifting your gaze out the window, watching the blur of lights and cars fly by.
"You know you’ll thank me later," he said, his voice laced with confidence as he pushed the car to go even faster.
As your friend parked the car, the tires crunching on the gravel beneath, you stepped out and took in the scene. Despite the late hour, the area was alive, glowing under huge industrial lights that bathed the lot in an artificial brightness. Cars were everywhere, a chaotic lineup of souped-up rides with booming music, others showing off their horsepower, engines roaring as they drifted in tight circles.
"Did you want to be a starter today?" your friend asked, leaning casually against the roof of his car.
You shrugged. "Sure," you replied, though your energy didn’t quite match the excitement of the crowd.
Walking away, you strolled past rows of cars, admiring their sleek designs and custom paint jobs, the polished metal gleaming under the lights. You ignored the catcalls from a group of guys leaning against a low-rider, keeping your focus ahead. Tonight, you weren’t dressed to impress—just something simple, thrown on after your friend dragged you out of the house. But your bandana was tied around your wrist, the familiar black-and-white checkered pattern standing out. It was your signature, the same one you used to signal the start of every race.
The energy around you was electric, the thrum of engines mixing with the bass-heavy beats from the cars parked nearby. You wound your way through the crowd, feeling a strange mix of familiarity and detachment. You weren’t really in the mood to be here, but this scene always had a way of pulling you in.
After a bit of wandering, you spotted some familiar faces—people you knew from past races, ones who recognized you right away. They greeted you with nods and half-smiles, pulling you into their small circle.
After hanging around for a bit, chatting with familiar faces, you eventually found yourself drifting toward the starting line. As the races kicked off, your friend waved you over, a sly grin on his face. "Looks like they need a starter," he said, tossing a glance toward the eager crowd of racers lining up. You could already feel the pull, the electricity in the air calling to you.
With a nod, you stepped forward, positioning yourself between two cars. The engines growled, their headlights casting long shadows across the pavement, illuminating your figure as you stood in the middle. Both drivers stared ahead, hands gripping the wheels, laser-focused on the moment. And then there was you—at the center of it all. The one who would signal the start.
You raised your bandana high, feeling the fabric tight around your wrist. The engines revved in response, their deep rumbling vibrating through the ground beneath your feet. All eyes were on you now. The weight of the anticipation, the intensity in the air—it made your pulse quicken.
With a swift motion, you dropped your hand, and like a spark igniting gasoline, the cars exploded forward, tires screeching and smoke billowing up behind them. The sound of engines roaring filled your ears as they sped past, kicking up dust and gravel in their wake. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, the rush of adrenaline coursing through you as you watched them disappear into the distance.
The thrill was undeniable. That moment when everything paused, when the world held its breath before you dropped the flag—it was exhilarating, addictive even.
Race after race, you found yourself sinking into the rhythm of it. Standing between two roaring machines, feeling the raw power they held, and knowing you controlled the moment they unleashed it. The vibrations from the engines, the cheers from the crowd, the smell of burning rubber—it all swirled around you, making you forget about the lazy mood you'd been in earlier.
After another race, you dusted your hands off, feeling the faint tremble of excitement still lingering in your fingers. You were enjoying yourself now, more than you’d expected. This was your element—the rush, the control, the fleeting moments where everything slowed before it erupted into chaos.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You stood with a group of women, chatting casually and enjoying the scene, when a familiar lime-green Mazda rolled up to the line. The car was loud and flashy, just like its driver. You rolled your eyes the moment you saw Haruto step out, all swagger and energy, hyping the crowd as if they hadn’t seen him race a hundred times before. He soaked in the attention, pointing fingers at people he knew, already talking trash with the other drivers.
“Here we go…” you muttered under your breath, more annoyed than amused. Haruto was good—everyone knew that—but his ego was twice the size of his talent.
Just as you were about to turn away, a sleek silver Mitsubishi pulled up to the starting line next. It immediately caught your attention. You whistled low under your breath, admiring the car’s perfect blend of black and white racing stripes that seemed to melt into the silver body like it was designed for this very moment.
“No way…” you heard Ryujin, one of your friends, murmur next to you, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
You turned your head to her, eyebrows raised. “What?”
She didn’t take her eyes off the car as she spoke. “He’s racing against Nishimura.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the name. “Wait… Nishimura?” You whipped your head back to the Mitsubishi, squinting to get a better look at the driver behind the tinted windows.
Everyone in the racing world knew who Nishimura was. His rise was meteoric. A few years ago, he’d been a no-name rookie, just another driver trying to make his mark. But that quickly changed. He became a legend on the underground circuit, with a reputation for being nearly unbeatable. But the man himself? You had never seen him in person. You'd only heard the stories—how he drove like he was born for the track, a natural who didn’t play by anyone’s rules.
Now, standing there, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of curiosity and awe. The Mitsubishi was sleek, powerful, but that wasn’t what had your attention. It was the knowledge that the man behind the wheel was one of the best to ever do it, and tonight, you’d finally get to see him race.
The crowd around you buzzed with energy, whispering Nishimura’s name like it carried some kind of magic. You felt the tension rising, a sense that something bigger than the usual street race was about to happen.
You glanced at Ryujin. “This is going to be over quick, isn’t it?”
She nodded, her eyes glued to the track. “You have no idea.”
As Haruto climbed back into his car, showboating as always, you suddenly felt hands on your back as Karina playfully shoved you forward. "Go on!" she giggled, clearly enjoying herself.
You shot her a wide-eyed look of disbelief. "Don’t push!" you huffed, but your feet had already carried you forward, right into the middle of the two revving cars. The roar of the engines surrounded you, vibrating through the air and into your bones. Standing there, between Haruto’s lime-green Mazda and the sleek Mitsubishi, you felt a surge of energy.
With a stern look, you raised your arms to get their attention. "Now I want a clean race! From both of you," you shouted, pointing between them. You narrowed your eyes specifically at Haruto, who was known to pull sneaky tricks when he got desperate. "No tricks, or jukes."
Haruto revved his engine in response, flashing his usual cocky grin, though his eyes darted toward the Mitsubishi, and for the first time, you noticed a hint of stiffness in his posture. He knew this wasn’t going to be an easy win.
"Ready?" you asked, locking eyes with him. He revved up again, the Mazda growling under the pressure, but his attention was split, clearly sizing up the competition.
Then you turned toward the Mitsubishi. "Ready?" you called, and the car’s engine roared to life, a smooth, confident sound that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t see through the dark windows, but you felt something different in the air—a tension you couldn’t quite place.
With a smirk, you raised your bandana high. "Go!" you shouted, waving it down. Both cars shot off the line like bullets, the roar of their engines drowning out the cheers from the crowd as they sped past you. Dust kicked up in their wake, but you stood your ground, watching as they tore through the track, navigating the turns with precision and speed.
As you turned to walk back to your spot, you didn’t know the effect you’d had.
Inside the Mitsubishi, Nishimura had almost missed his cue. The moment you’d stepped out onto the track, his focus had shifted completely. The fierce concentration he was known for had wavered. For a split second, he’d forgotten where he was, what he was doing, and what was at stake. All he could see was you, standing between the two cars, commanding the moment with confidence and authority. It was enough to throw him off—a rarity for someone like him.
It wasn’t until he saw you pointing directly at him that he snapped out of it, realizing he hadn’t revved his engine. He quickly corrected himself, the roar of the car snapping back into focus as he gunned the accelerator and sped off.
But even as he tore through the turns, effortlessly drifting and leaving Haruto in the dust, his mind kept slipping back to you. He couldn’t shake the image of you standing there,completely unbothered by the chaos around you.
By the time the race was nearing its end, Nishimura was far ahead, his car slicing through the night with ease. Haruto didn’t stand a chance, but the victory was almost secondary. Nishimura’s pulse raced with a different kind of adrenaline, one that had nothing to do with the thrill of the race.
His car roared as it crossed the finish line, its sleek frame gliding effortlessly under the neon lights. The crowd erupted into cheers, but his mind wasn’t on the race. As he pulled his car to a stop and cut the engine, the world seemed to quiet down, everything slowing for just a moment.
He exhaled, unfastened his seatbelt, and pushed open the door. Stepping out of the car, his lean frame emerged, his hair slightly tousled from the speed and wind. The crowd surged toward him, hyping up his victory, chanting his name, but Nishimura’s focus was elsewhere.
His eyes scanned the crowd, searching. It wasn’t the win that made his pulse race—it was you.
When his gaze landed on you, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you. His eyes held yours, a mix of curiosity and something you couldn't quite place, but it made your heart race.
Just as you were about to process the moment, the spell was broken by a familiar voice. "You ready to go home?" Your friend appeared beside you, jingling his keys with a grin. You blinked, startled by the sudden shift, and turned to face him.
You blinked, shaking off the lingering intensity of Nishimura's stare, "Yeah," you nodded softly, a bit dazed, before following him through the crowd. As you walked away, you couldn’t resist glancing back toward where Nishimura had been standing, but to your surprise, he was gone. Just like that.
Huh... where did he go? you thought, scanning the crowd for a sign of him, but he had seemingly vanished without a trace. A strange feeling settled in your chest—curiosity mixed with something else. You shook it off and followed your friend through the throng of people, the night air cooling as the adrenaline from the race began to fade.
When you reached your friend’s car, you leaned against the door and raised an eyebrow. "Did you even race Lucas?"
He laughed, unlocking the car and shaking his head. "Nah, didn’t bother. But I had fun." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously, and you groaned, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Ugh, I did not wanna know that," you said, scrunching up your nose in mock disgust as you slid into the passenger seat.
He chuckled and turned on the engine, the car rumbling to life as he drove off into the quiet night. The ride home was comfortable, the streetlights casting fleeting shadows through the windows.
When your friend finally pulled up in front of your house, you exchanged a quick goodbye. He waved as you got out, and you offered a small smile in return, still distracted. Once inside, you kicked off your shoes, the events of the night catching up to you. A quick shower helped wash away the lingering dust and grime from the track, but it did little to clear your mind.
Finally, you collapsed into bed, your body sinking into the mattress as exhaustion pulled at you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You had been going to more races lately, every weekend like clockwork. The underground scene was alive and buzzing, with each race becoming more intense than the last. But there was one thing you noticed—a pattern that had begun to emerge. Every time you were the starter, Nishimura was there, lined up at the start with his sleek Mitsubishi, ready to race.
At first, you chalked it up to coincidence. But as the weeks passed, it became clear that it wasn’t. No matter where the races were hosted, no matter how different the crowd, Nishimura would be there. And without fail, he’d win. His driving was as smooth and precise as ever, but something about the way his eyes would linger on you just before he sped off—it left you with a strange fluttering feeling you couldn't shake.
You were about to head out when suddenly, the unmistakable wail of sirens cut through the night. In an instant, the entire atmosphere shifted. Chaos erupted as people scrambled to their cars, trying to get out before the cops could close in.
Panic surged through you as you scanned the crowd, looking for any of your friends, but the mess of people made it impossible. Cars were speeding off in every direction, headlights blurring together, and the sound of screeching tires filled the air. Your heart raced, and just as you started to feel the panic rise, a familiar sleek silver car slid to a stop beside you. The window rolled down, and there he was.
"Get in!" Nishimura shouted, his voice urgent but calm.
You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you jumped into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind you. Before you could even get settled, Nishimura hit the gas, and the car shot forward, weaving effortlessly between the other vehicles that were fleeing the scene. You gripped the handlebar above the door, holding on as the car sped through the narrow streets, sliding past cop cars with a precision that left you breathless.
The speedometer arrow kept climbing, the numbers blurring as the engine roared beneath you. You glanced at Nishimura, his hands steady on the wheel, his expression focused yet completely at ease. He was in his element, and you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he handled the car, as if it was an extension of him.
After a few intense minutes, the sirens grew distant, and it became clear that the cops had lost track of you. Nishimura slowed down, the adrenaline still buzzing between the two of you, but the immediate danger had passed. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, relaxing your grip on the handlebar.
Taking a moment to steady yourself, your attention drifted to the interior of the car. Everything was sleek, black, and incredibly well-maintained. The leather seats were soft beneath you, and a soft red glow emanated from under your feet, casting a warm, almost intimate light. You couldn’t help but run your fingers over the dash, admiring the attention to detail.
"You like it?" Nishimura’s voice broke the silence, casual yet with a hint of curiosity.
"I do," you said, glancing over at him. He was still looking at the road, but there was something about the way he asked that told you he was aware of more than just the street ahead of him. His attention was on you, even if his eyes weren’t.
"It fits the owner," you added with a small smile.
He let out a quiet laugh, a sound that was rare but warm. "Thanks," he said, his voice a little softer now, as if the tension from earlier had melted away.
"You don’t usually hang around after races," you said, turning your attention back to him.
He glanced at you briefly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I guess tonight was different."
You tilted your head slightly, curious. "Different how?"
His smile deepened, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he shifted gears smoothly, the car responding instantly to his touch. "I think you know," he finally said, his tone leaving little doubt that his reason for sticking around had something to do with you.
That fluttering feeling in your chest returned, but this time, it wasn’t from the rush of the race or the chase—it was from him.
As the car cruised smoothly through the quiet streets, the earlier intensity of the night had faded into a calm, almost comfortable atmosphere between you and Nishimura. You found yourself feeling surprisingly at ease around him, despite the fact that, up until now, your interactions had been mostly limited to stolen glances and brief conversations.
"You know," he said, glancing over at you as you watched the city pass by through the window, "you don’t have to keep calling me Nishimura."
You blinked and turned to face him. "Oh, right. Is that too formal or something?"
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "A bit. My friends call me Ni-ki."
"Ni-ki?" you repeated, testing the name on your lips.
"Yeah. I’d rather you call me that." His voice was casual, but there was something in the way he said it that felt personal, like he was inviting you into a closer circle.
"Alright, Ni-ki it is," you said, leaning back in your seat as you relaxed. "So, what do people usually call you if they’re not your friends?"
He smirked, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Depends. Usually something like ‘dangerous,’ or ‘the guy you don’t want to race .’" He glanced at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I’d like to think I’m pretty easygoing."
"Right," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You seem so easygoing with the way you handle a car at 100 miles per hour."
He laughed at that, the sound low and genuine, and for a moment, it felt like you were just two people hanging out—nothing more, nothing less. The conversation drifted from racing to random topics, a natural flow of words that felt effortless. He told you about the first time he ever drove a car, how he’d been obsessed with it ever since, and you shared a few stories of your own, mostly about how you had gotten into starting races.
At some point, you noticed the city lights getting closer and realized you were nearing your neighborhood. Ni-ki glanced at you, sensing it was time to ask the inevitable question.
"Where do you want me to drop you off?"
You gave him your address, and he nodded, making a smooth turn onto a quieter street as the roar of the engine softened. The car slowed to a stop outside your building, the night air still and quiet now that the chaos had long since passed. For a brief moment, neither of you said anything.
"Thanks for the ride," you finally said, unbuckling your seatbelt but not quite ready to leave just yet.
"No problem," he replied, his voice softer now, more personal in the quiet space between you.
You lingered for a second, unsure of what to say. Something about the night felt different—like it had marked the beginning of something, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Ni-ki seemed to sense it too, the way he looked at you, his eyes lingering just a little longer.
"Take care," you said, finally breaking the silence.
"You too," he replied, his gaze never wavering. "See you around?"
"Yeah," you nodded, feeling a strange sense of anticipation that you couldn’t explain. "Definitely."
With one last glance, you stepped out of the car and closed the door behind you. As you walked toward your building, you couldn’t resist turning back for a quick look. Ni-ki was still there, watching you, and when your eyes met again, he flashed you a small, knowing smile before revving the engine.
Without another word, he sped off, the silver car disappearing into the night with a smooth, powerful roar.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The past month had been a whirlwind. Your schedule had spiraled into chaos, with personal commitments swallowing up all your free time. You hadn’t even thought about the races, let alone attended one. But finally, a weekend had opened up, and you felt a rush of excitement at the thought of getting back to the underground scene.
Your friend picked you up, their car bumping with bass as they pulled up to your place. You jumped in, the familiar thrill of anticipation bubbling up inside you. The ride was filled with chatter about the races you’d missed, and as you drove closer to the city, you could feel the energy in the air building.
When you arrived at the race area, it was alive with activity, the night sky illuminated by the glow of headlights and streetlights. Cars were parked everywhere, their owners mingling and showcasing their machines. The sound of engines revving and laughter filled the air, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe.
As you wandered through the crowd, taking in the sights and sounds, you spotted Haruto leaning against a sleek, newly polished car. When he caught your eye, he grinned and pushed off the vehicle to approach you.
"How do you like the new car?" he called out as he got closer, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
You stopped, admiring the vehicle as he gestured toward it. "When did you get this one?" you asked, genuinely curious about the flashy machine that had a glossy finish reflecting the neon lights around it.
"Got it last week," he replied proudly, running a hand over the hood. "Pretty ain’t she?"
"She?" You raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "You gendered it?"
He shrugged, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "What? It just feels right. She’s got curves, you know?"
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. "Sure, whatever you say, Romeo."
He laughed, shaking his head as you turned to walk away. "You wait until you see her in action! I’ll show you what she’s made of."
You waved him off, your eyes wandering as you continued to explore the scene. The adrenaline was intoxicating, the atmosphere buzzing with energy. You admired the different cars, from flashy sports models to classic muscle machines.
As you continued to roam the crowd, you felt the excitement in the air, but it was abruptly interrupted by a guy who stepped in front of you. He had an easy smile, but there was something off about the way he was looking at you.
"Hey there! What’s your name?" he asked, leaning slightly closer.
You raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge his intentions. "Not interested," you replied coolly, attempting to sidestep him.
He moved to block your path again, undeterred. "Come on, just a name. How about a number then? We could grab a drink later."
You shook your head firmly. "No thanks, I'm not interested."
His expression shifted, irritation creeping into his smile. "You sure? I could show you a good time," he said, stepping a little too close for comfort.
A sense of unease washed over you as his demeanor changed. "Back off," you warned, crossing your arms. But he didn’t take the hint; instead, he leaned in even closer, trying to assert his presence.
Just then, you felt a familiar presence behind you. A voice cut through the tension, deep and commanding. "She said no. You should listen."
Nishimura appeared, sliding a hand around your waist possessively. The gesture was both comforting and electrifying, and you could feel the shift in the atmosphere. The guy's expression turned from annoyance to fear as he realized who he was dealing with.
The guy hesitated for a moment, looking between the two of you, then backed off, hands raised in defeat. "Whatever, man. She’s not worth it anyway," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Ni-ki. "Thanks, but I had it under control," you said, attempting to downplay the situation.
He raised an eyebrow, concern etched across his face. "Didn’t look like it. I hate seeing people act like that."
You opened your mouth to argue, but the intensity of his gaze made you pause. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race.
"I missed you," he said suddenly, his voice dropping to a softer tone. It was as if the words slipped out without him even realizing it.
The admission hung in the air between you, leaving you speechless. You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected vulnerability in his voice. You’d been excited to see him again, but hearing him say that made something inside you flutter.
"You… missed me?" you finally managed to stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly.
He looked a little sheepish, his usual confidence momentarily faltering. "Yeah, I mean—well, it’s been a month since I last saw you. Of course, I did," he replied, his tone shifting back to its usual nonchalance, but you could tell he was trying to cover up the slip.
"Right," you said, your mind racing. There was an undeniable connection sparking between you, and the thought of it made your heart race even faster.
The rest of the night unfolded in a whirlwind of adrenaline and excitement as you found yourself gravitating closer to Ni-ki. His presence felt like a shield, and you relished every moment spent by his side. Every time someone glanced your way with interest or a hint of aggression, you could feel his posture stiffen beside you, a silent warning in his gaze that made you feel protected.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
One evening, as you both leaned against his car, the night air buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming races, he turned to you, his expression serious. “I have something to tell you,” he said, his voice steady yet laced with excitement.
You tilted your head, intrigued. “What is it?”
“I got scouted,” he announced, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “They want me to race for them in Japan.”
Your heart skipped a beat, a rush of joy surging through you. “That’s amazing, Ni-ki! You deserve it! This is such a huge opportunity!” You couldn’t help but feel proud of him, your excitement bubbling over.
“Thanks! I’m really excited,” he said, his smile widening. Then, his expression shifted, and he looked at you earnestly. “And I want you to come with me.”
“What do you mean?” you asked, feeling a flutter of nerves and anticipation at the same time.
“I want you to be my starter full-time for all my races,” he clarified, his gaze intense as it locked onto yours. “I can’t imagine doing this without you by my side. You’ve been a huge part of my journey so far, and I want you to continue with me.”
Your heart raced at the thought, excitement and disbelief flooding your mind. “You really want me to come with you?”
“Absolutely. You know how much racing means to me. I need someone I trust out there, and that’s you,” he said, sincerity shining in his eyes.
“I’d love to, Ni-ki!”
His face broke into a wide grin, the kind that lit up his entire demeanor. “Really? You’re on board?”
“I’m absolutely on board! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.
He stepped closer, his arms opening wide, and without hesitation, you jumped into his embrace.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” he said into your hair, his voice slightly muffled but filled with excitement. You felt his joy resonate through you, and it made your heart swell even more.
“I know! It’s unreal!” You pulled back slightly, your hands resting on his shoulders as you looked up into his eyes, both of you sharing that moment of exhilaration.
Ni-ki chuckled softly, still holding you close. “This is going to be amazing.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
He shook his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “We’re going to crush it together, right? You’ll be my lucky charm out there.”
You laughed, feeling a rush of determination at his words. “Absolutely.”
He grinned, his confidence infectious. “And I’ll make sure we leave them in the dust.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
When you arrived at Ni-ki’s place, you parked your car, and took a moment to admire the neighborhood. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over everything.
Walking toward the open garage door, your gaze drifted to his sleek car sitting in the center, the hood propped open and revealing the beautifully engineered engine underneath. It was like a masterpiece of machinery, glinting under the fluorescent lights.
“Ni-ki?” you called out, your voice echoing slightly in the spacious garage.
Suddenly, Ni-ki rolled out from underneath another car nearby, his face lighting up with a bright smile. “There you are!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise and delight in his tone. He stood up, wiping his hands with a rag he pulled from his belt, the fabric stained with oil and grease.
You couldn’t help but widen your eyes, taking in the sight of him. He was wearing a pair of dirty overalls over a white tank top, which was now marred with grease and smudges. The way his muscles flexed as he worked on the cars made it hard to focus on anything else. “You work on the cars?” you asked, trying to divert your attention from how good he looked in that moment.
“Yeah, I like to tinker here and there,” he replied casually, picking up a tool from a nearby bench before rolling back under the car. “It’s kind of become a hobby!”
You hummed thoughtfully, walking around the car to get a better view of his progress. The vehicle was clearly totaled, having seen better days after a recent crash. Yet, you could see the way he meticulously worked to fix it up, and admiration swelled within you. “This one looks like it needs a lot of love,” you commented, kneeling down to peek under the car as well.
“It does, but I can fix it,” he said with a mix of confidence and determination. “It just takes time. Plus, I enjoy the challenge.”
“Have you always liked working on cars?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.
“Pretty much. My dad and I used to work on our old cars together when I was a kid,” he said, his voice slightly distant as if reminiscing about those moments. “I guess it stuck with me. It’s therapeutic, you know? Just me and the car, figuring things out.”
You nodded, understanding how those moments could mean so much. “It’s great to have a passion outside of racing. Do you have a dream car you want to work on one day?”
He paused for a moment, considering your question. “Definitely. I’d love to build a classic muscle car from the ground up one day. Something that turns heads and leaves a mark on the road.”
“Sounds like a plan,” you said, feeling a surge of inspiration at the thought of him chasing another dream. “I’d love to see that happen.”
Ni-ki rolled out from under the car again, this time standing up to face you fully. “You’ll be there to cheer me on, right?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
“Always,” you promised, feeling a warmth spread through you.
He grinned and stepped closer, wiping his hands on his overalls again, though it only spread the grease around more. “Well, since you’re here, you can help me out! I need a second pair of hands to hold the engine cover while I fix this part.”
“Sure! What do I need to do?” you said eagerly.
“Just hold it steady while I tighten these bolts,” he instructed, moving back under the car again.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The days leading up to the race in Japan had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure. Ni-ki showed you the sights of Tokyo, from the bustling streets of Shibuya to the tranquil gardens of the Imperial Palace.
As the day of the race approached, however, you noticed a shift in Ni-ki’s demeanor. He became quieter, more introspective, often staring off into space as if lost in his thoughts. You could see the weight of expectations resting heavily on his shoulders.
On the morning of the race, you found him sitting on the edge of his bed, his expression a mix of determination and anxiety. “Ni-ki,” you said softly, approaching him. “Are you okay?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous, you know? This is a big deal, and I really want to perform well.”
You sat beside him, placing a reassuring hand on his back. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’re more than ready. Just remember why you started racing in the first place.”
He nodded, but his gaze remained downcast. You took a deep breath, wanting to instill confidence in him. “You’re going to crush it out there, I know you will. Just focus on driving and trust yourself.”
As you spoke, you could see his tension slowly ease, the fire igniting in his eyes once more. “Thanks for always being here for me,” he said quietly.
Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. He blinked in surprise, his cheeks turning a deep shade of crimson. “Win for me, okay?” you said with a warm smile, and watched as his gaze hardened with resolve.
“I will,” he promised, the determination in his voice returning. You could see that your words had reignited the spark within him.
As night fell, you found yourselves in the car, cruising through the darkened streets of Tokyo. The city was alive with neon lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of buildings, casting a colorful glow that seemed to pulse in rhythm with the hum of excitement in the air.
Ni-ki’s hands gripped the steering wheel with a newfound confidence, and as he navigated the winding roads, you could feel the adrenaline building between you. “Are you ready?” he asked, glancing over at you.
“I was born ready!” you replied, trying to keep the mood light, but the thrill of the moment was palpable.
He chuckled, a mischievous grin breaking through his earlier nerves. “That’s what I like to hear.”
As he drove, the anticipation grew heavier. You could almost taste the excitement as you approached the race venue, the sounds of revving engines and cheering crowds growing louder. You felt a surge of pride knowing you’d be right by his side, supporting him through every twist and turn of the race.
“Just remember,” you said, leaning closer as he focused on the road, “no matter what happens out there, you’ve got this."
His expression softened, and he turned to meet your gaze. “Thanks for believing in me. It means everything.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Always, Ni-ki."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
You strolled around the venue, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. The high-end cars gleamed under the bright lights, each one more stunning than the last. You took your time admiring the sleek designs and intricate details.
Trying to immerse yourself in the culture, you remembered some of the Japanese phrases Ni-ki had taught you during your flight. You approached a group of racers and smiled, offering compliments. While some responded with smiles and nods, others seemed confused, and you quickly realized that your limited vocabulary wasn’t enough to keep the conversations going.
As you wandered, you eventually found yourself standing alone, lost in thought about the upcoming race, when a tall guy approached you with a smirk. He started speaking rapidly in Japanese, gesturing animatedly, but you could only catch bits and pieces.
“Sorry” you said, apologizing. “I don’t understand," you added, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone.
Instead, his expression darkened, and he leaned closer, his voice becoming more aggressive as he pressed you with questions you couldn’t comprehend. When he reached out and grabbed your wrist, panic surged through you, and you instinctively pulled away. However, his grip was too tight, and the pressure made you wince.
Just then, you heard a familiar voice cut through the commotion. “Hey! Get away from her!” Ni-ki stormed in, eyes blazing with anger as he pulled you behind him, creating a protective barrier.
The guy hesitated, then turned to Ni-ki, their eyes locking as they began to argue back and forth in rapid Japanese. You couldn’t follow their exchange, but the intensity of the situation was palpable. You rubbed your wrist, still feeling the remnants of the man’s grip as you looked from Ni-ki to the guy, who had turned an alarming shade of red, clearly taken aback by Ni-ki`s arrival.
Finally, Ni-ki turned away from the confrontation and guided you toward his car, his grip firm but gentle on your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, urgency in his tone.
“What? What happened?” you asked, bewildered, still trying to process everything.
“I’m racing,” he replied shortly, his eyes focused ahead as he led you toward his Mitsubishi.
“Against who?” you asked, glancing back at the guy, who was now standing there with a scowl, his earlier bravado deflated.
“Against the creep,” Ni-ki answered, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior.
Your heart raced at the thought. “Wait, Ni-ki, you don’t have to do this! It’s not worth it.”
He shot you a determined look, his jaw set. “I know. But he can’t just treat you like that. This isn’t just about racing; it’s about respect.”
You swallowed hard, realizing how serious he was. As he climbed into the driver’s seat, you took a moment to collect yourself, grateful for his protective instincts. “Are you sure you’re okay to race right now?” you asked, concern lacing your voice.
He turned to you, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m fine. I just need to focus. You’ll be right here, right?”
“Of course,” you replied, forcing a smile to reassure him, even though you were still rattled by the encounter.
You took a deep breath, standing between Ni-ki's sleek Mitsubishi and the other guy's car—a flashy, souped-up Honda that glinted under the neon lights. Your heart raced, a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through you. You could feel the energy in the air, thick with anticipation as both drivers revved their engines, the deep growl echoing around you.
"Are you guys ready?" you called out, trying to maintain your composure as you pointed toward both cars. Ni-ki shot you a confident nod, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The other driver, still wearing a cocky grin, gave you a thumbs-up.
As the cars revved louder, you turned your gaze to a guy standing nearby, holding a walkie-talkie. He was scanning the area, and when he got the go-ahead that the police were nowhere in sight, he shot you a thumbs-up.
Your pulse quickened at the sight, and you felt a rush of adrenaline. You lifted the flag high, your heart pounding in your chest, and with a swift motion, you waved it down. "Go!" you shouted, your voice carrying over the roar of the engines.
Both cars shot off the line, tires screeching as they sped into the dark streets of Tokyo. You watched as they darted away, the headlights illuminating the path ahead like shooting stars against the night sky. The ground trembled beneath your feet from the sheer power of the vehicles, and you could almost feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins as the excitement enveloped you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Ni-ki gripped the steering wheel tightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he and the other driver raced side by side through the neon-lit streets of Tokyo. He could feel the intensity radiating from the other car, a flashy Honda that kept trying to tip him off balance.
“Come on, you think you can take me out?” he muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on the road ahead. The guy was aggressive, swerving dangerously close and attempting to nudge him off course. Ni-ki remained focused, expertly maneuvering around the obstacles in his path.
He drifted into a turn, the tires screeching against the asphalt as he counter-steered and weaved through the traffic. Cars honked and swerved, their drivers caught off guard by the reckless speed of the two racers. The other driver tried to play dirty, attempting to crash into Ni-ki's rear, but Ni-ki was prepared for it. He kept his cool, steering away just in time and cutting in front of the guy as they barreled through a narrow alleyway.
“Not today,” he said through gritted teeth, determination fueling every decision he made.
Out of the corner of his eye, Ni-ki noticed a police car trailing behind them, its sirens blaring loudly. His heart dropped as he glanced in the rearview mirror, the flashing lights reflecting the urgency of the situation. “No, no, no,” he repeated, frustration rising within him. He couldn’t let himself get caught—not after everything they had worked for.
The other driver seemed to notice the approaching officer as well, and in a desperate attempt to throw Ni-ki off his game, he swerved dangerously close, trying to shove Niki into the path of the police car. Ni-ki's heart raced as he saw the cop trying to close the gap, the pressure mounting.
With quick reflexes, Ni-ki shifted gears and accelerated, pushing his car to its limits as he turned sharply to avoid a collision. He felt the weight of the Honda trying to force him into a corner, but he countered with another drift, keeping his grip tight on the wheel. The other driver, frustrated and reckless, made a final lunge for Ni-ki's car, but in the process, he miscalculated.
Ni-ki watched as the guy’s car collided with the police vehicle, the impact sending both cars spinning. Metal crunched, and he could hear the screeching of tires against pavement. Ni-ki couldn’t help but glance back, disbelief washing over him as he saw the police car crash into a row of parked cars, sending them crashing into one another like dominoes.
“Holy—” he breathed, shaking his head. The guy had gone too far. He took a moment to process the chaos, his heart still racing, but he knew he couldn’t dwell on it. The adrenaline and excitement of the race was intoxicating, and he had to keep his head in the game.
Ni-ki refocused on the road ahead, determination burning in his chest. He could see the finish line in the distance, the crowd gathering, their cheers a distant roar that urged him forward. With one final surge of speed, he pressed down on the accelerator, feeling the power of the car respond instantly. He was going to win this race—not just for himself, but for you, the one waiting at the finish line.
As he crossed the line, the cheers of the crowd erupted around him, the thrill of victory washing over him like a wave. But even in that moment, he knew he had to keep his cool and stay grounded. After all, he was racing not just against the clock, but against chaos itself.
As Ni-ki crossed the finish line, the exhilaration of victory pulsed through him. He could hardly contain his excitement as he slammed the brakes, his Mitsubishi screeching to a halt. The roar of the crowd enveloped him, a wave of adrenaline and triumph crashing over him like a tidal wave. He hopped out of the car, his heart racing not just from the race but from the sight of you waiting at the finish line, a wide smile on your face.
“Did you see that?” he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he bounded over to you. He pulled you into a tight embrace, lifting you off your feet for a moment. The thrill of the win felt amplified with you by his side, and he couldn't help but bask in the warmth of your presence.
“I did! You were amazing!” you replied, laughter bubbling from your lips as he set you down.
“Just doing what I do best,” he said with a playful smirk, rubbing the back of his neck in a show of modesty. But the pride in his eyes was unmistakable. He took a moment to soak it all in, the cheers of the crowd ringing in his ears, but it was your smile that made his heart swell with happiness.
As the crowd surged around him, eager to congratulate the victor, Ni-ki turned back to you, his expression softening. “You know, I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said, sincerity lacing his words. “You were my good luck charm.”
Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, and you felt a surge of pride wash over you. “I’ll be your good luck charm any day,” you teased, poking him playfully in the side.
The celebration continued around you, people shouting his name and clapping him on the back. Ni-ki basked in the glory, but even as the crowd cheered and celebrated, his eyes kept darting back to you, finding comfort in your presence.
From then, every race he entered seemed to follow the same pattern. Each time, he emerged victorious, his confidence soaring with each win.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Laying on the hood of Ni-ki's car, the warmth of the metal beneath you was comforting as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the city. The vibrant hues of orange and pink painted the sky, creating a perfect backdrop for the moment you both shared. You leaned into Ni-ki, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your side, and you couldn't help but smile as you glanced up at him.
Ni-ki's gaze was fixed on you, his eyes shimmering with a mix of happiness and something deeper—something that made your heart flutter.
As you exchanged shy glances, the atmosphere shifted. The distance between you disappeared, and suddenly, you found yourselves inching closer together. Your heart raced, a mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through you as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice low and tender.
“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
In that moment, everything felt perfect. You both leaned in, your lips meeting in a gentle kiss. It started soft and sweet, but as Ni-ki pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, it became something more. His hands slid around your waist, anchoring you to him as you melted against him, losing yourself in the warmth of his embrace.
You could feel his heart racing against your chest, mirroring the excitement and passion that filled the air around you.
As the kiss grew more passionate, you felt Ni-ki’s fingers thread through your hair, pulling you even closer. You sighed against him, savoring the moment, the thrill of it all—this incredible connection that had blossomed between you.
Finally, you pulled away, both of you breathless and smiling like fools, your foreheads resting against each other.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.
“Oh, really?” you teased, a playful glint in your eyes. “You seemed pretty good at racing; I thought you’d be good at kissing too.”
Ni-ki chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m still figuring out this whole romance thing. But with you? It just feels right.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in for another quick kiss. The sun had fully set now, leaving a blanket of stars shimmering overhead, but the warmth of the moment lingered.
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coldfanbou · 7 months ago
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Saleswoman
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Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.
Length 2.1K
Yuna X Mreader
Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through. 
Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face. 
“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.
“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”
“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states. 
You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.
“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”
“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.
“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”
“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.
She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.
You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock. 
“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna. 
She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste. 
Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock. 
You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her. 
Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.
You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving. 
You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth. 
“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.
You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in.  Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again.  You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress. 
You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.
“I think you’re right. It is better.”
“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.
You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.
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zoofzoofxx · 2 months ago
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—The art of eyecontact—
Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader
Summary ; Upon arriving in Barcelona with your group, Miyagi-Do, to participate in the prestigious Sekai Takai tournament, you encounter a tall and formidable opponent. Your initial meeting is less than ideal, leaving both of you with a poor first impression of each other. However, everything changes when you uncover a surprising secret about him. This discovery shifts your perspective entirely, prompting you to confront him. What begins as a tense interaction unexpectedly evolves into a deeper understanding, and the two of you gradually grow closer in ways neither of you anticipated.
Trigger warning ; Physical abuse, violence, emotional abuse.
Pt. 1
୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧
After arriving at the hotel, exhausted and looking as though I haven’t slept in weeks, I pick up the key to my room, which I’m sharing with Sam. I give her a quick nod to let her know I’ll head up to the room, and she simply nods back, already engrossed in a conversation with her boyfriend, Miguel.
With my suitcase in one hand and my bag in the other, I put my AirPods back in and turn on my music before stepping into the elevator. The ride is quiet, and I find myself zoning out until the familiar ding signals that I’ve reached my floor.
Pulling the handle of my suitcase, I step out of the elevator, scrolling through my phone without bothering to look up. Before I know it, I collide with someone and fall to the ground, one of my AirPods tumbling out in the process. Startled, I look up, ready to apologize for not paying attention—but before I can say a word, he beats me to it.
‘Watch where you’re going,’ he says, rolling his eyes in obvious annoyance
‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly, standing up and grabbing my fallen AirPod.
He sighed, his gaze feeling as though it pierced directly into my soul. He appeared cold and tense. ‘Just don’t let it happen again,’ he said, not giving me a chance to respond before walking away.
I exhaled slowly, gathering my belongings and glancing at my hotel card to find my room number. As I looked around, I realized I had ended up right in front of my hotel room. With a soft sigh, I stepped inside, taking a moment to settle myself. I reminded myself that I still had two hours to prepare before we needed to leave for the city tour. The quiet of the room allowed me to relax for a brief moment, and I moved calmly to unpack and get ready, focusing on the next part of the day without letting the earlier encounter distract me.
As I stood in the bathroom, the cold water from the shower running over me, I couldn’t help but think about the guy from earlier. He was likely my opponent. He was tall, with striking blue eyes and brown hair. There was something about him—he seemed unbothered, almost arrogant, yet calm and tense all at once. The mix of qualities made him difficult to read.
I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard a knock on the door. It was probably Sam, letting me know she had arrived back at the hotel as well. I turned off the shower, quickly blow-drying my hair before slipping into a simple white long-sleeve shirt and grey Nike sweatpants.
Walking out of the bathroom, I grabbed my makeup kit and sat down, ready to get prepared for the evening. The calm of the moment allowed me to focus, shifting my attention away from the earlier encounter and onto the night ahead.
‘Team events will begin tomorrow,’ Sam remarked as she adjusted her outfit in the mirror. I sat quietly, scrolling through my phone, waiting for her to finish and let me know when she was ready to head out. After a few moments, she signaled that she was all set, and we made our way to the lobby to continue with our plans for the evening.
‘So… are you feeling a bit stressed?’ Sam asked, her tone casual as she glanced at me. ‘With the fact that Tory is now in Cobra Kai and you’re the captain?’
Tory had left right when she was about to win against Samantha, which led to me having to compete against Sam for the captain’s position. In the end, I came out on top.
‘No, I’m just worried about Tory, that’s all,’ I replied, stepping out of the elevator. As soon as I did, I felt a pair of eyes boring into me. It was the guy from earlier—the one I had bumped into. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I quickly looked away, feeling a sudden wave of discomfort wash over me.
I turned to Sam and told her about the encounter, and she glanced at him quickly before nudging me with her elbow, a playful smirk crossing her face.
‘Ow,’I exclaimed, flinching from the sudden nudge, and Sam responded by wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.
I raised an eyebrow, giving her a look that silently reminded her she had a boyfriend. Sam simply raised her hands in mock surrender, grinning, and then walked off toward the bathroom. I waited outside, shaking my head.
The photographer announced that he wanted a group photo with just the captains. I stood next to Robby, both of us smiling for the camera. The photographer then said something about the guy in the back, urging him to smile as well. I glanced over, and there he was—smiling at the camera before his gaze shifted to meet mine. A sigh escaped me as I quickly looked away, a familiar nervous feeling creeping up once again.
The next day, I felt the weight of stress settling on my shoulders—today was the first day of the tournament, and I wasn’t sure what to expect. Wanting to shake off my nerves, I left the hotel early to give myself a chance to warm up. As I made my way toward the locker rooms to drop off my things, a voice suddenly interrupted my thoughts. I turned, and there he was—the mysterious guy from yesterday.
He was training with his sensei, who was urging him to move faster. The guy struggled to keep up, failing repeatedly, much to his sensei’s frustration. Unexpectedly, the sensei struck him multiple times, demanding he try again. The guy made another attempt, but once more, he failed and took a few more hits. As he turned to face me, our eyes locked for a brief moment.
I quickly looked away, eager to leave without drawing attention. I hurried into the locker rooms, hoping he hadn’t noticed me. The encounter left me unsettled, and I stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened. I didn’t know how to feel about the situation.
The first competition ended in a swift, crushing loss. As I left the court, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me. I kept replaying the match in my mind, second-guessing every decision and wondering if I had let my team down. It felt like the entire tournament might slip away because of me. Despite my best efforts to stay calm, the guilt and stress gnawed at me.
I was the first to retreat to the locker room, hoping to find some solace and a bottle of water to clear my head. But as I opened the storage, I saw that all the bottles were empty. I sighed, trying to steady the nervous energy bubbling under the surface. Deciding to head to the canteen, I reminded myself that there were still two hours before the next event. That gave me time to regroup and pull myself together—or so I hoped.
As I entered the canteen, my eyes landed almost immediately on him. He stood near the fridge, tall and poised as ever, with his hair styled perfectly, as if he hadn’t just come from the chaos of competition. My stomach tightened, and my heart began to race, though I desperately willed it to stop. Of all people to see right now, it had to be him. I didn’t want to face him—especially not now, when I felt like a failure. My shoulders tensed as I resolved to stick to my plan: grab a bottle, stay invisible, and leave as quickly as possible.
I moved swiftly to the fridge, avoiding eye contact and keeping my head down. My thoughts were a swirl of self-consciousness and unease. Did he notice me? Was he going to say anything about the match? Every moment I spent near him felt like an eternity, but, to my relief, I managed to grab the water and make it to the line without incident.
As I stood waiting my turn to pay, I tried to focus on anything but the awkwardness still lingering from the match. My hands were fidgety, and I shifted my weight slightly, anxious to get out of there. Then, as if the universe had decided I needed one more challenge, my opponent from the earlier competition lined up behind me. I could feel his presence without even turning around— it was palpable, a stark and unwelcome reminder of the loss I was already struggling to push from my mind.
When it was finally my turn to pay, I reached into my pocket and froze. My wallet wasn’t there. A cold wave of panic swept over me as I realized I’d left it in my bag back in the locker room. Feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment, I quickly turned to the cashier and asked if she could give me a moment to retrieve it. Her response was curt and final: the line was too long, and she couldn’t wait.
Humiliated, I had no choice but to leave the canteen empty-handed. The sting of rejection added another layer to my already fragile mood. I stepped outside into the crisp air, taking slow, deliberate breaths in an effort to calm myself. I stretched, more out of habit than necessity, and tried to regain a sense of control.
Even as the fresh air began to soothe my nerves, the doubt lingered. It felt like everything was spiraling, and I couldn’t help but feel that it was all my fault. Still, I reminded myself that there was time to turn things around. The tournament wasn’t over yet, and I couldn’t let this moment define the rest of the day. Though the insecurity remained, I resolved to keep pushing forward, however shaky my confidence felt.
After returning to the locker room, I sat down quietly next to my bag, letting the silence of the space settle around me. As I unzipped the bag, my eyes were drawn to two ice-cold water bottles lying inside, their surfaces glistening faintly. I paused, blinking at them in mild confusion, trying to piece together how I hadn’t noticed them earlier. I looked up, my thoughts momentarily scattered, unsure whether to feel relieved, amused, or simply puzzled by the discovery.
‘Was anyone here?’ I asked Demetri, holding up the bottles of water and glancing at him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. My voice was calm, but my mind raced slightly, trying to make sense of their sudden appearance.
‘Yeah, the girl from Iron Dragons, Zara, I think,’ Demetri explained quickly. ‘She said you needed some water but forgot your wallet, so she brought these for you.’
The Iron Dragons—that was the team the tall guy was from. From what I knew, Zara was their captain. I hadn’t expected her to do something like this, but I couldn’t help feeling a slight wave of gratitude. I decided I would thank her later, once the next competition was over. For now, I just needed to focus on what was ahead.
I grabbed the water bottle, a quiet wave of gratitude passing through me. It was a small gesture, but it made a difference in that moment. Taking a deep breath, I decided to search for my teammates and gather them together. I needed to rally them, give them a motivational speech, even though, deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the loss in the first competition was mostly my fault. Still, I knew I had to set that aside and focus on getting everyone back on track for the next round.
It was time for the next event, and the pressure was mounting. There were different categories, but we lost almost all of them. The only victories came from the 2vs1 match, where Miguel secured a win, and the Bojutsu (staff technique/ art of stick fighting), where I managed to come out on top.
The following day brought a small victory—we won once, but it came with its own challenges. Our task was to force the opponent to fall from the podium, and only Miguel managed to win and stay on it. The weight of it all hit harder when I saw our team nearly at the bottom of the standings. The stress was becoming overwhelming; we were running out of time, and the gap between us and the top seemed to grow wider with each passing moment.
The next event was the elimination phase of Sakai Taikai, and as the moment drew closer, an overwhelming sense of anxiety crept back into my mind. I couldn’t shake the thought that I might lose because of my own small mistakes, and it was a nagging feeling that seemed to grow stronger with each passing second.
It was a 2v2 on a high platform, a challenging setup that added to the pressure. The Iron Dragons went first with their demonstration. The tall guy—who I knew to be an exceptional competitor—was flawless. He moved with such grace and precision that he wasn’t even touched once by his opponent. I couldn’t help but watch in awe as he maneuvered effortlessly across the platform, his every movement exuding confidence and skill. Before I could think much more about it, I overheard Demetri and Hawk talking nearby. Their conversation snapped me out of my thoughts as they referred to the tall guy as a “monster” because of his skill. The words hit me differently than I expected—guilt crept in. It didn’t feel right to hear them speak about him behind his back like that, especially when he was right there, demonstrating his abilities so effortlessly. I felt a pang of discomfort, as if they were undermining his talent. I couldn’t let it slide.
‘Don’t call him a monster,’ I exclaimed, my voice firm. ‘You don’t know him or what he deals with.’
They exchanged glances before looking at me, their expressions softening. I could see the apology in their eyes, and for a moment, the tension in the air seemed to ease. They nodded slightly, acknowledging what I had said, and I felt a small sense of relief. It wasn’t right to judge someone so quickly, and I wasn’t going to stand by and let it happen.
They announced that it was our turn. Roby and I were the first to step onto the podium to fight. As I climbed the stairs, the height of the platform hit me all at once, and my knees felt like they might give way, soft as cotton. Despite the flutter of nerves, I focused on doing my best, trying to shake off the unease.
Then, suddenly, our eyes met—the tall guy again. For a brief moment, I froze, distracted by the connection. My opponent saw the opening and almost pushed me off the platform. Just as I was about to lose my footing, Roby took a risk and managed to eliminate two opponents at once. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I heard the rush of feet as the other competitors came charging in, with Sam joining me on the platform.
Time passed, and it all came down to the final two opponents. Now, it was Miguel’s turn to step in and help me finish it. As we worked together to eliminate them, I felt a small surge of pride. I hadn’t fallen once, and that, in itself, was enough to bring a little bit of happiness in the midst of the chaos.
Everyone in our group was cheering after the competition. We were relieved and excited that we hadn’t been eliminated and that we still had a chance to continue in Sakai Taikai. But amidst the celebration, Miguel was nowhere to be found.
Just as Robby and I were catching our breath, we were called to the side by our Senseis. Their faces were serious, and I could feel the shift in the air as they delivered the bad news. One of our Senseis, along with Miguel, had to leave immediately. Miguel’s mother had been hospitalized, and there were complications with her pregnancy.
The weight of the situation hit me hard. Not only were we down one Sensei, but we were also losing a teammate. I couldn’t help but feel a deep concern for Miguel’s mother. I hoped she would pull through and that everything would turn out okay. It was hard to focus on anything else when I knew Miguel’s family needed him, and I hoped she’d recover quickly.
While everyone else was out partying at some random club in Barcelona, I found myself binge-watching a film series. After a while, I decided I needed a change of pace and thought a walk along the beach might clear my mind. I threw on a white hoodie and some black leggings, grabbed a bottle of water for the walk, and headed out. The evening air was cool, and I was ready for a little solitude by the ocean.
I walked for a moment, my thoughts still lingering on the events of the day, until I found myself at the beach. As I looked around, my eyes landed on someone standing nearby, shirtless. I blinked, and as I drew closer, I realized it was the tall guy from earlier.
The brown-haired boy was diligently practicing a series of movements, each one executed with remarkable precision and fluidity. Despite my exhaustion and the haze clouding my thoughts, I couldn’t seem to pull my gaze away. There was something captivating about the way he moved, as though every motion was deliberate and purposeful. My fatigue seemed to fade into the background as I became mesmerized by his focus and technique. It was almost as if everything around me disappeared, and I was entirely absorbed in watching him. I couldn’t help but wonder about the discipline and dedication that went into mastering such skills, but at the same time, I felt too drained to even process the thoughts fully. But then, my attention shifted when I noticed some red marks on his back. They stood out against his skin, drawing my gaze away from his fluid motions, and I couldn’t help but wonder how they had gotten there.
Suddenly, he executed a move that caused him to turn and face me directly. His expression shifted from focus to surprise, and for a moment, he froze, caught off guard by my presence. It was as if the sudden shift in direction had momentarily thrown him off balance, and we stood there in an awkward silence, both taken aback by the unexpected encounter.
‘Oh… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,’ I exclaimed, taking a step closer. As I moved, the cold wind hit me, sending a shiver down my spine. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill, but my attention remained on him, feeling the awkwardness between us linger in the air.
‘Uhm… I’m Y/n, by the way,’ I said, tilting my head to the side, feeling a bit shy and insecure. My voice was soft, unsure of how to break the silence. I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward standing there, hoping my introduction might ease the tension, even though my nerves made it hard to feel at ease.
‘Axel,’ he said, his voice a little stiff as he shifted slightly, looking tense and uncomfortable. I could tell he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the situation either, and his unease mirrored my own. The air between us felt a little thick, and I found myself wishing I could think of something to say to make it less awkward.
‘That’s a pretty cool kata. What’s it called?’ I asked softly, hoping to break the awkward silence. My voice was tentative, but I genuinely wanted to know. It felt like the right way to ease the tension between us, even if I was still a little unsure of myself.
‘I’m not supposed to talk to the opponents,’ he exclaimed, his tone a bit stubborn. There was a hint of defensiveness in his words, as if he was trying to set a boundary, but it only added to the awkwardness. I could tell he was trying to stick to some kind of rule, and I immediately felt a bit embarrassed for having spoken up.
‘We’re not on the mat,’ I said with a small smile, feeling the blush creep up my nose. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold, the embarrassment, or my own shyness causing the heat to rise in my cheeks, but I tried to brush it off. The awkwardness was still there, but I hoped my attempt at humor might ease the tension just a bit.
‘It’s pretty late for training,’ I exclaimed, sighing as I tried to warm up my hands by rubbing them together. The cold was starting to get to me, and I couldn’t help but feel the discomfort in my fingers. I glanced at Axel, hoping to ease the awkwardness with a casual comment, but the tension still lingered between us.
‘Always time for training,’ he said, his tone firm and matter-of-fact. His words carried a quiet determination, and for a moment, I felt like I was glimpsing a side of him that was completely focused, almost unshakable.
After he said that, he reached down to grab his shirt from the sand. As he moved, the red marks on his back became more visible, standing out sharply against his skin. I couldn’t help but notice them, the vividness of the marks raising questions in my mind.
‘Whoa, whoa… what happened to your back?’ I asked cautiously as he pulled his shirt over his head, my voice filled with concern as I took a few small steps forward. I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I was overstepping, but the marks were too striking to ignore. My curiosity and worry outweighed my hesitation.
‘Uh, from the bo staff competition,’ he answered quickly, his tone dismissive as he avoided meeting my concerned gaze. It was clear he didn’t want to dwell on it, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the marks told a different story.
‘Nobody’s been able to land a point on you yet,’ I said, my tone light but observant. His reaction was immediate—he shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze even more than before. The tension in his demeanor made me pause, debating whether or not to bring up what I had seen earlier during his training with his sensei. The memory of those moments weighed on my thoughts, but I wasn’t sure if addressing it would make things better or worse.
‘I saw what happened with your sensei,’ I said softly, breaking the silence. My tone was careful, not wanting to sound intrusive, but I felt the need to acknowledge what I had witnessed.
‘My sensei wants me to be the best. It’s because of him I never lose.’ he said coldly, his sharp tone cutting through the air as he looked directly at me. His gaze was steady, but there was an edge to it, as though he was daring me to challenge his words.
‘There are other ways of teaching,’ I said, my voice laced with concern. I couldn’t help but feel worried, sensing that his sensei’s approach might be pushing him too hard. I wanted to say more, but I wasn’t sure if I should press further.
‘I mean, I got to admit, your dojo’s pretty great,’ I exclaimed, offering him a friendly smile. I hoped my words would ease the tension, acknowledging his dedication while keeping the conversation light. Despite my concern, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable.
‘Thank you,’ Axel said, his tone softer, looking a little more at ease now. ‘You’re pretty… Your… Your dojo’s pretty good too.’ He added quickly, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks, though I suspected it might have been as much from the cold as from his sudden shyness. His words caught me off guard, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling the tension ease between us.
‘We try,’ I said with a small smile, hoping to reassure him. I could see the tension easing slightly, and I wanted to keep things light. The moment felt less awkward, and I was relieved for it.
‘Mind if I join?’ Axel asked, and the question caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice that made me pause for a moment.
‘You want to switch dojo’s?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows in shock. The idea hadn’t crossed my mind, and I was curious about why he’d bring it up. It seemed like a bold move, especially given how dedicated he was to his current dojo.
‘Your walk. I was going back to hotel.’ he said, pointing towards the route I was supposed to take. It took me a moment to process what he meant, but then I realized he was offering to join me on the walk back, which felt unexpected but kind.
‘Oh, yeah,’ I laughed awkwardly, caught off guard by the offer. ‘Yeah, sure,’ I added quickly, hoping to reassure him. As we started walking, I couldn’t help but notice the height difference between us—he towered over me, and I felt a little small in comparison, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just another thing that made the moment feel a little surreal.
As we walked along the beach, the soothing sound of the waves crashing in the background, our conversation turned to travel. We began talking about the countries we had visited, sharing stories of our experiences in different places. The gentle breeze and the calming rhythm of the ocean made the conversation feel easy and natural, and for the first time that night, I felt completely at ease. From what he mentioned, it seemed like he had traveled to every country in Europe. He shared details about different cities and cultures he’d encountered, his experiences coming across as both vast and fascinating. It made me realize just how much he had seen and done, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe at his travels. He also asked me a few questions, curious about my thoughts on Barcelona. He wanted to know what I thought of the city, what I hoped to visit, and what I wanted to do while I was here. His questions felt genuine, and I found myself sharing more than I had planned, enjoying the flow of our conversation. It was nice to talk about my plans without feeling rushed or pressured.
We laughed and enjoyed the moment, the conversation flowing easily, until one of our opponents from Tory’s team approached us with a few of his friends. The sudden interruption broke the easy atmosphere, and I could feel a shift in the air as they came closer.
‘How cute!’ Kwon exclaimed, tilting his head in sarcastic awe. His tone was playful yet teasing, as if he was trying to get a reaction from us. It was clear he wasn’t just making a casual comment, but rather trying to stir things up a bit
‘Little rival team play time, huh?’ he said with a grin, his words slurring slightly. It was clear he was definitely not sober, and his carefree smile made the situation feel a bit awkward. His tone was light, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to provoke something.
‘Just ignore them,’ I said with a sigh, glancing at Axel. I could feel the tension creeping in, but I didn’t want to let it ruin the moment. I hoped Axel would let it slide too, as it was clear Kwon’s words were meant more to tease than to start a real confrontation. I tried to walk past them, but they shifted right in front of me, giving me a big, smug smile. It was like they were blocking my path on purpose, clearly enjoying the chance to get under my skin.
‘Say the magic words,’ Kwon laughed, raising his eyebrows playfully. His grin widened, clearly enjoying the situation more than he should.
‘Move aside,’ I said, my tone laced with clear annoyance. I wasn’t in the mood for their games, and I made sure they knew it as I stood my ground.
‘Wrong,’ he said sternly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more confrontational. The tone in his voice made it clear he wasn’t going to let me off that easily.
‘Just leave us alone,” I sighed, frustration creeping into my voice. I was done with their teasing and just wanted to move on, hoping they’d finally get the hint. Kwon kneeled to my height and smiled, his expression mocking yet somehow amused. It was as if he thought the whole situation was a game, and I was the one missing the joke.
‘Only if you say please,’ he laughed, getting uncomfortably close, his face now just inches from mine. The mocking tone in his voice made my irritation grow, but I stood my ground, refusing to let him get under my skin.
That was the final straw for Axel. His expression darkened as his fist clenched tightly at his side. One of Kwon’s friends caught the movement and took it as a signal to strike, delivering a swift kick to Axel’s stomach. To my surprise, Axel barely even flinched, standing firm as if the attack hadn’t phased him.
At the same moment, the other friend of Kwon lunged toward me. Axel reacted immediately, dealing with his opponent effortlessly, his precision and speed almost intimidating. Inspired by his confidence, I focused on my attacker, countering their moves and managing to take them down just as effectively. The entire exchange was over in moments, leaving Kwon’s friends clearly outmatched.
Axel and I turned our attention to Kwon, who stood his ground with an overly confident smirk. ‘Come on, I’ll take you both. Let’s go,’ he taunted, his bravado thick in the air. But before he could make a move, one of his friends grabbed his arm and urged him to stop.
‘Let’s get out of here. The cops are coming,’ his friend said, the urgency in his voice cutting through Kwon’s bravado.
Sure enough, the faint wail of police sirens echoed in the distance. Without hesitation, Axel and I exchanged a quick glance and bolted in the opposite direction, heading back toward the beach.
By the time we stopped, both of us were out of breath, the cool ocean breeze offering some relief as we tried to collect ourselves. The tension of the moment slowly gave way to exhaustion, the sounds of the waves a stark contrast to the chaos we’d just escaped.
‘Cobra Kai… those assholes,’ I muttered between breaths, my frustration evident as I leaned forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, but the tension was beginning to ebb, replaced by a simmering annoyance at what had just unfolded.
‘Nice round kick,’ he said, his tone genuine as his eyes stayed fixed on me. There was a flicker of admiration in his gaze, and it caught me off guard for a moment. I straightened up, still trying to steady my breath, feeling a mix of pride and self-consciousness under his watchful look.
‘Nice counterstrike,’ I said between breaths, managing a small smile.
Axel returned the gesture with a genuine smile of his own, his gaze never wavering from mine. There was something steady and unwavering about the way he looked at me, and it made me feel oddly at ease despite everything that had just happened.
For a moment, the only sounds between us were the crashing waves in the distance and our labored breaths as we worked to steady ourselves. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, leaving behind a strange sense of calm in the cool night air.
I exhaled deeply, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. My eyes scanned the area cautiously, the sound of the waves in the background grounding me. After another moment, I sighed again and checked once more before turning to Axel.
‘I think the coast is clear,’ I said softly, breaking the silence.
When I looked at him, I realized he was still watching me, his expression unreadable but intent. There was something in his gaze—an almost admiring quality—that made my heart skip for a moment. I quickly glanced away, unsure of how to react to the unexpected attention.
I took a quick glance at Axel, my heart racing when I saw he was still looking at me. Our eyes locked, and something shifted in the air between us. Feeling the pull, I couldn’t look away and decided to meet his gaze.
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes, the height difference suddenly feeling more pronounced. He gently cupped my cheek with one hand, his touch warm and reassuring. With the other, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers brushing lightly against my skin. His expression softened, his eyes flickering between mine and my lips.
The closeness was intoxicating, and before I knew it, he began to lean in, his face inches from mine. My breath caught in my throat, and for a split second, I was ready to give in. But then, a sudden rush of doubt and hesitation swept over me.
‘Woah, no, no…’ I stammered, taking a few quick steps back. The air between us suddenly felt thick with tension, and I could feel the familiar rush of awkwardness creeping back, just like it had at the beginning of our conversation.
I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the ground, unsure of what to do next. The moment that had felt so intense just moments ago now seemed like a mistake. Why had I pulled away? I had no idea, but the uncertainty left me with a knot in my stomach. Axel didn’t say anything right away, and for a second, the silence stretched between us like an unspoken question hanging in the air.
I tried to steady my breathing, hoping the moment would pass quickly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had just made things even more awkward.
‘I-I’m sorry… I thought-‘ Axel started, his words trailing off as he struggled to find the right thing to say.
He seemed just as uncertain as I was, his expression caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, and it made me feel even more guilty for pulling away.
I bit my lip, unsure of how to break the silence. The tension hung thick between us, but neither of us seemed to know how to ease it. It felt like everything had shifted in an instant, and now I wasn’t sure how to fix it without making it worse.
‘It’s already after curfew. We should get going,’ His voice was cold, the warmth from earlier now completely gone.
The shift was immediate. The tension between us that had been so palpable moments before evaporated, but not in a way that made me feel better. Instead, it felt like we had just snapped back to some kind of awkward normalcy—where he was distant and aloof again, and I was left fumbling for the right words.
I couldn’t tell if he was still hurt by my reaction or if he was simply shutting himself off, but either way, the walls between us were up once more, and I wasn’t sure how to bring them down.
The walk to the hotel was silent—so silent it felt suffocating. Each step felt heavier, the air thick with unspoken words. The usual ease between us was gone, replaced by an awkward distance I couldn’t seem to close.
I stopped abruptly, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. Axel walked a few steps further before halting, turning back to look at me, his expression confused.
“Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice softer than it had been since… well, since everything had changed.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know what I was feeling anymore. But I could tell that whatever had just happened between us—whatever I had done—had shifted something. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt like the space between us had grown wider than it had ever been before.
I grabbed my phone and glanced at the clock—it was 5 p.m. In an hour, the sunrise would begin. A sudden urge to be by the ocean took over me, the need for some space, for clarity. I sighed quietly to myself and turned to Axel.
‘I’m going back to the beach,’ I said softly. ‘You can head back to the hotel. Goodnight.’
I gave him a small wave and started walking away, my footsteps steady, but my mind still racing.
But then I heard them—footsteps. I stopped, turned, and looked back. It was Axel, walking a few paces behind me. We locked eyes, and for a moment, everything else faded. His gaze was soft, unreadable, but it felt like there was so much unsaid in the space between us. He didn’t say anything, not a single word, but his presence spoke louder than anything could.
I stood still for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Neither of us moved, but neither of us looked away either. The silence lingered, heavy and familiar.
I smiled softly, then turned back and began walking toward the beach. By the time I arrived, the air was colder than I expected, A crisp chill in the air made me pull my hoodie tighter around me, trying to keep the cold at bay. I sat down, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to find warmth in the stillness of the night.
Without a word, Axel appeared beside me. He gently draped his jacket over my shoulders, the warmth of it wrapping around me, offering more comfort than I realized I needed. I looked up, my breath catching for a second as I met his gaze, but he was already taking a few steps back, distancing himself.
He sat down a bit further away, his eyes fixed on the beach and the waves rolling in under the dark sky. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a soft glow on everything, but I found my attention drifting back to Axel. I couldn’t help it. His quiet demeanor, the way he observed the world around him—it was like he was in tune with everything. For a moment, I caught myself admiring him, his profile soft in the moonlight, his posture relaxed yet strong.
The silence between us felt comfortable, not awkward. It was as though, in this moment, there was no need for words. We just existed together, the sound of the waves, the chill in the air, and the quiet understanding between us.
The sun was about to rise any minute, and I glanced over at Axel, who looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep. I felt guilty for dragging him out here. Standing up, I walked over to him and handed his jacket back, noticing how cold it was and how he only had a sleeveless shirt on. Without saying anything, I sat next to him, gently placing his head on my shoulder, offering him the warmth I could.
I heard Axel sigh softly, and when I looked over at him, he seemed lost in thought. My gaze drifted to the waves, and just then, the sun began to rise, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange. The sight made me straighten my posture, while Axel stretched and yawned, still staring at the horizon in silence. I couldn’t help but smile at the peaceful moment, before standing up and grabbing my phone to capture a photo of the sunrise.
I gently patted Axel’s head, feeling his messy hair beneath my hand. He looked so relaxed, yet on the verge of falling asleep. He looked up at me, and I gave him a soft smile, an unfamiliar flutter starting in my stomach. He slowly stood up, taking a few steps back before raising his phone. I turned to look at him, and to my surprise, he was taking a photo of me with the sunrise behind me. I couldn’t help but smile wider, feeling a faint blush creeping up my nose as I realized how much I enjoyed this moment.
As Axel put his phone down, I walked over to him, unable to resist the urge to give him a big hug. There were no words exchanged, just the sound of silence, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore, and the warmth of the moment. As we pulled apart, the sunlight hit Axel’s face, casting a golden glow. He squinted slightly from the brightness, but the way the light accentuated his features made him even more captivating.
Without thinking, I reached out, cupping his cheek gently. He looked down at me with a soft, almost questioning gaze, and I couldn’t quite place the feeling swirling in my chest. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the long day, the weight of everything that had happened since the Sekai Taikai, or maybe it was just the way Axel made me feel like I was losing control of my thoughts.
I leaned in, my hands cradling his face, giving him one last, lingering look. His breath caught slightly, and for a moment, I hesitated, unsure of what was driving me. But the pull between us was undeniable. Without thinking further, I closed the space between us, pressing my lips to his.
The moment our lips met, everything seemed to pause. It wasn’t forceful or rushed, but rather soft, tentative—like we were both unsure yet certain at the same time. The warmth from his skin, the faint scent of the ocean mixed with the remnants of his cologne, surrounded me. I felt the gentle press of his lips against mine, a quiet reassurance, as though he was waiting for me to pull away if I needed to.
I didn’t.
Instead, I leaned into him just slightly, feeling the way his hand hesitated at my waist before it gently rested there, steadying both of us. His lips moved slowly, carefully, as if savoring the moment. There was a vulnerability in it, an unspoken question, and it made my heart race in a way I hadn’t expected.
Time seemed to stretch, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore fading into the background as everything else became a blur. It was just the two of us, caught in this quiet, intimate exchange that somehow spoke louder than any words could.
When we finally pulled apart, my head rested on his chest, breathless. My heart was pounding, my body still humming from the kiss. His hand gently brushed a strand of hair from my face, his eyes soft with something that felt like understanding—maybe even a little awe. Neither of us said anything, but in the silence, there was a shared certainty. It had happened.
Walking back to the hotel was quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was that kind of silence where everything felt right, where words weren’t needed to fill the space. We just enjoyed each other’s company, the soft rhythm of our footsteps in sync.
When we reached my hotel room, I turned to face him, my hands resting gently on his shoulders. Before either of us could say anything, he leaned in, and we kissed again. This time, it was different. It was deeper, more intense, as if we were trying to memorize every sensation in case it was the last time. The kiss held a sense of urgency, an unspoken longing. Even though we both knew we’d see each other again that evening, in that moment, it felt like saying goodbye.
We pulled back reluctantly, but neither of us wanted to let go. Axel gave me a quick, soft kiss on the lips before stepping into the elevator. As the door began to close, I waved at him, my cheeks flushed with a mix of warmth and the excitement of the moment.
The elevator door closed with a soft ding, and I turned to face my room, my heart still racing. I knocked on the door, hoping Sam would be inside, but there was no response. No sign of life from the other side. Sighing, I leaned against the door, feeling a little deflated but still smiling, the feeling of Axel’s kiss lingering on my lips.
I leaned against the wall for a few minutes, the silence of the hallway around me, letting my mind replay the moments with Axel. Then, my phone buzzed, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen, surprised to see a notification: Axel had followed me on Instagram.
A smile tugged at my lips as I quickly tapped the follow button to return the gesture. Right after, I saw the message pop up from him. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it.
‘Have a nice sleep. Thank you for today,’
I sighed, smiling to myself as I replayed the events of the night in my head. The warmth from our kiss still lingered, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness that was hard to shake. But then, suddenly, a thought hit me—I didn’t have a room to go to.
My heart skipped a beat as I realized that Sam was probably still out and I hadn’t made any arrangements for the night. I glanced at the empty hallway, feeling a little lost. The idea of wandering around the hotel wasn’t exactly appealing
‘Axel, could you do me a favor?’ I typed, my fingers pausing before I hit send.
‘Of course, what is it?’ The text said and I sighed.
‘I seem to have forgotten my room key, and I don’t really want to wake up Sam. Could you help me out and let me crash in your room for the night? Just until morning,’ I texted, hitting send before I could second-guess myself.
I smiled, feeling a mix of relief and excitement as I read his message. Room 415. I quickly grabbed my things and made my way to the elevator. My heart raced a little faster than usual, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety—it was more of an anticipation.
As I stood waiting for the elevator doors to open, my phone buzzed again. Another notification from Axel.
‘Don’t worry, the bed’s big enough. You can relax.’
I chuckled softly to myself, feeling even more at ease. With a quick breath, I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed behind me. It wasn’t much longer before I reached his floor.
I walked down the hallway, my footsteps almost echoing in the quiet of the night. When I arrived at his door, I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.
The door opened almost immediately, and Axel stood there with a relaxed smile on his face, clearly having been waiting for me.
‘Hey,’ he greeted, stepping aside to let me in. ‘Make yourself at home.’
I stepped inside, feeling a warm sense of comfort wash over me. The quiet intimacy of the room felt calming, and I couldn’t help but feel a little more at peace.
I looked at Axel, taking in his casual yet somehow perfect appearance: a black hoodie, a white shirt underneath, and grey sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly handsome. There was a comfort in the way he stood, relaxed but confident.
I walked up to him, my heart pounding a little faster, the distance between us growing smaller with each step. Standing on my tiptoes, I gently cupped his face before leaning in and kissing him softly. The kiss was light at first, tentative, but as I started to pull away, he caught me by the waist, pulling me closer. His lips met mine again, this time with more urgency, more passion. The kiss deepened, our connection intensifying, as if neither of us wanted to let go of this moment.
My hands found their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through his hoodie, while his arms wrapped around me, holding me close. The room around us faded away, and all that mattered was the feeling of his lips on mine, the way his touch made my heart race. It was a kiss that said more than words could, a kiss that made everything else feel insignificant.
After some time, we reluctantly pulled away, the lingering warmth of the kiss still filling the air. I yawned, suddenly feeling how exhausted I was, the weight of the day catching up to me. Axel, noticing, gently handed me some clothes, and I smiled gratefully at him before heading into the bathroom.
The shower was quick but refreshing, the hot water washing away the tension and fatigue. I quickly braided my hair, feeling a little more awake as I stepped out of the bathroom. When I emerged, I saw Axel lying on the mattress on the floor, his eyes closed, clearly trying to get some rest. His posture was relaxed, and he seemed so at ease in the room, even though the circumstances weren’t ideal.
I paused for a moment, watching him. There was something so comforting about how he looked there, in his own little world, yet still so present with me. With a small sigh, I walked over to the edge of the mattress, sitting down beside him. He opened one eye, glancing up at me before offering a sleepy smile.
‘Getting some sleep now?’ I asked softly, trying not to disturb his calm.
‘Yeah, just waiting for you,’ he murmured, his voice thick with sleepiness. ‘But, I’m not going to last long.’
I smile. ‘Why are you on the floor?’ I ask softly, gently caressing his cheek. ‘You can sleep with me if you’d like.’
Axel hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked up at me. The offer hung in the air between us, quiet but filled with unspoken understanding. He blinked slowly, clearly processing my words.
‘I didn’t want to make things awkward,’ he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. ‘I figured you’d prefer your space.’
I smiled, brushing my thumb across his cheek gently. ‘It’s not awkward,’ I reassured him. ‘You’re always welcome to be close. Don’t worry about it.’
He looked at me for a second longer before giving a small, almost shy smile. ‘Thanks.’
Without another word, he shifted, moving toward the bed, his body still tense but clearly relieved. He laid down next to me, a little awkwardly at first, but then his body relaxed as he settled in.
I pulled the blanket over both of us, my hand finding his, squeezing it gently. The warmth between us was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt right. We both closed our eyes, the silence between us now peaceful and easy, as we drifted off to sleep together.
A/N; hiii everyone, just finished watching cobra kai part 2 and I LOVE ITTT! I have such a MASSIVE crush on Axel :p I wanted to apologise for my spelling mistakes 😓 have a nice day further! love yourself and drink a lots of water :)
love ya
xoxo Z.S.
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puari-vol · 3 months ago
Text
The Perfect Pet
cw: Hypnosis, Pet play
I was on my way home from work when I got the strangest text:
Tiff
Hey slut could you run by the laundromat and pick up my clothes?  should be in the third machine from the door.
You
Uh sorry I think you have the wrong number
It was a pretty embarrassing thing to accidentally text a stranger, I couldn't help but think that whoever this had been meant for must be in a pretty quirky relationship. I reminded myself not to be so judgemental, then I got another text
Tiff
Whoops forgot to do the thing lol Slumber party time
“I’m a good girl, I’m a good slut” I muttered to myself, my body suddenly felt very heavy. My arms fell to my sides and my eyes fluttered for just a moment. Then everything felt normal again. I lifted the phone and quickly reread the text conversation
Tiff 
Are you there, slut?
You
I’m here! Sorry about that Miss Tiffany,  You want your laundry right? I can be there in fifteen minutes
Tiff
good slut no rush lol key is under the doormat
I hurried over to the laundromat anyway, it just felt so good to obey. And if I was a good enough girl, then maybe she’d even use my mouth today. I grabbed the clothes and made my way to Miss Tiffany’s apartment. Once inside I took a moment to reminisce…there had been a slumber party here a few weeks ago, my fourth one I think? It was hard to tell them apart. Then I quickly texted Miss Tiffany back.
You
Delivered! Do you want me to fold them and put them away?
Tiff
Sure lol if you wanna 
I got to work, the rest of Miss Tiffany’s clothes were also unfolded and scattered around her room. So I cleaned up all of those too.
You
All done Miss Tiffany!
I waited a few seconds…then a few more…I bit my lip, anticipation building...until suddenly
Tiff
Good girl
I let out a soft moan and my legs felt weak. I basked in it for just a moment. Then I was already texting again
You
Is there anything else I can do for you Miss?
I felt a little disappointed when she replied:
Tiff
Na can’t think of anything, ur good
Feeling disheartened, I got ready to leave. Only for my phone to buzz again, sending my hopes soaring
Tiff
Actually, you gonna be busy for the next hour or so?
You
No Miss!
Tiff
Cool, why don’t you wait for me Just get comfy on the couch and press your button for me slut
You
Yes Miss!
I sat down, and raised my index finger in front of my face. I let my eyes focus on it, then I tapped myself on the-
*Tap*
I was lying down on the couch now. When I opened my eyes all I could see was Miss Tiffany’s beautiful pussy. My mouth fell open and she lowered herself onto me. She road my face while I did everything I could to pleasure her, after all if I did good enough she might-
“Good Girl”
My hips thrust into the air while I moaned into her, it was so much better hearing it out loud. She continued to pepper in ‘good girl’s' between her pants and gasps, and I got so fuzzy that all I could think about was the taste of her. Finally she was finished using my mouth. She got off me and slid me onto the floor, where I went to work dutifully massaging her feet. She stuck a toe in my mouth and I sucked it happily.
“That was great, you’re getting better at that slut. Such a good girl”
Her foot in my face stifled my moan, and she giggled at me. I noticed it was my phone she was scrolling through while I worked. 
“Looks like you got a few other orders while you were out. But you’ve been a good slut today already, want me to tell them to get someone else?”
I shook my head as much as I could with her foot in my mouth
“Of course you don’t, such a good little slut” 
She glanced back down at my phone and read to me
“Well, it looks like Mina wants you to do her homework, Alice wants her dick sucked, and Kelsey just sent a picture of a maid dress and told you to come over. You got a busy day ahead of you slut”
She pulled her foot out of my mouth and let me stand up, she handed my phone back to me with a smile, I went to put it in my pocket, then realized I wasn’t wearing any clothes. I quickly got dressed and made my plan. I could go see Alice first, then I should probably pick up Mina’s homework before going to Kelsey’s cause the maid thing was gonna take all day. It made me so happy knowing I was going to be such a good girl for them all.  
--
I wasn’t sure what else to do, Mina’s homework was done, and I was all out of maid tasks. Kelsey was fast asleep, she had spent most of the day surprise groping me while I worked on cleaning her dorm room, and apparently that had really worn her out because she didn’t look like she was waking anytime soon. I had been hoping for one more ‘Good Girl’ to finish off the day, but it was fine. I was a good slut, I was happy just to be used. I got dressed and headed for home. Another task came in over my phone. But rather than eagerly accept I found myself texting that this slut was tired and done for the day. I received a ‘good girl’ in reply which left me dizzy. But during the walk home, I found the day's activities began to fade from my mind. I had gotten off work, hung out with some friends…and now I was going home. I was standing outside my front door when I got one last text.
Mistress
Hey there cutie :) Did you have fun today?
Another wrong number? In the same day? I texted back to clear up the misunderstanding.
You
Yes Mistress
I stared at my phone, and tried to figure out why I had just typed that, and also why this stranger was named ‘Mistress’ in my phone. But before I could even begin to feel confused there was another text
Mistress
That’s good to hear I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and I think I’ve decided to make you mine Doesn’t that sound lovely pet?
You
Yes Mistress
I stared dumbly at my own thumbs as they typed out and sent the message for a second time. I received one last text, then everything went fuzzy.
The next thing I knew, I was standing somewhere else. I was in front of a completely different door, with my arm raised as though I had just finished knocking. Before I could spend any more time figuring out where I was, the door opened and a dazzlingly beautiful woman was standing inside. She smiled at me, I recognized the smile.
“Perfect timing sweetie” 
From behind her another girl walked out of the apartment. She had a vacant expression on her face, and didn’t even glance at me as she walked down the hallway towards the exit. The woman gestured for me to enter
“You’re up next, come on in” 
I did and she shut the door behind me
"Honestly I decided I was going to keep you from the moment we first met, breaking you mind was just so much fun"
"Um...thank you"
I couldn't really understand what this lady was talking about, but before I could think about it more I was distracted by the sight of another young woman who was curled up in a pet bed in the corner of the room. She was naked aside from a leather collar around her neck. I stared at her wide eyed while the woman took a seat on the couch. She laughed when she saw me looking
“Jealous?”
I tore my eyes away, my face turning red. I looked at the woman. There was something so familiar about her but I couldn’t quite place it. She laughed at me
“You are just adorable all confused like this, take a seat”
She patted the couch next to her, and I obeyed. Good Girls obeyed…something was swimming up to the surface of my mind Good Girls obeyed…
“Mistress?” 
I heard myself ask, it was like I was listening to myself from underwater. She smiled at me 
“Why don’t we get you all comfy pet”
She took me by the shoulders and pulled me down, she adjusted me until I was lying on her lap looking up at her. Somehow she seemed even more gorgeous looking down on me like this. There was a voice in my head that was still confused, still wondering why all of this was happening. But that little voice got quieter and quieter as I stared into Mistress's eyes while she gently stroked my hair.
“So do you remember why I called you here?”
I was suddenly broken free from my stupor as I struggled to process the question.
“Uhh, I’m uh…I’m…uhh”
She giggled and placed a quieting finger over my lips
“You don’t need to worry about it pet, you don’t need to worry about anything anymore” 
I sighed, that seemed so nice. She gave me another loving smile as I relaxed into her.
"Now pay attention pet, there's one last thing you have to learn about the button that turns off your brain. You know it can be pressed and you can be turned on and off, you know it can be held down and you can have new instructions installed. but did you know you can be reset completely?"
I just stared up at her, not fully comprehending
"It's true! I can just erase everything and start from scratch. and its going to feel so so good, you'll probably just cum the moment I do it. Then everything in your mind will be gone forever, doesn't that sound good pet?"
The words simply fell out of my mouth
"Yes Mistress"
"Good Girl, would you like to say goodbye?"
"...to who Mistress?"
"You silly"
She leaned down and kissed me on the forehead. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open as I gasped and moaned, pleasure I had never felt before wracked my body as my mind went blank.
“And now that everything in your mind is gone, I’m going to fill it back up. Your time as a slut did so good training you into my perfectly obedient little toy. But you aren’t a Slumber Party Slut anymore, you’re just Mine. You belong to me, and as far as you know, you always have. There is nothing else, there has never been anything else. You live here with me, and you do as you are told, because you are my perfect pet, my very good girl. All you need to know is that I am your everything. and Awake”  
Mistress snapped her fingers and gently pushed the pet off her lap
“Pets don’t wear clothes”
Mistress said, and the pet started stripping while Mistress left the room. When the pet was naked she fell to her knees. without Mistress in the room there was nothing for the pet to do, nothing to even think. The moment Mistress returned, She consumed all of the pets attention. Looking for a sign, waiting for a signal. Mistress smiled at Her pet and approached, She was holding a collar in her hand. She put a finger under the pets chin and tilted her head up, then tightened the collar around the pets neck. Without a word She clipped a lead to the collar, turned around and walked away. The pet followed behind on her hands and knees, the pet enjoyed the pressure on her neck as Mistress gently pulled her. 
“The leash is gonna stay on for a while, new pets are so very dependent, and I wouldn’t want you to wander too far”
She stopped in front of a computer desk, leaned down and clipped the other end of the leash to a hook set up beneath the desk. With another gentle tug She dragged the pet underneath, then pulled up a chair and sat down. Mistress rested her feet on the pet and went to work on something. The pet curled up and started getting comfortable in her new home…no…this had always been her home.
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lucysarah-c · 5 months ago
Text
Levi's horrible flirtling skills part 9.
Tumblr media
Masterlist link to all the previous parts.
Indecipherable groans echoed through the room, merging with the sound of the alarm. Reluctantly sitting up, still in uniform, the bed covers crumpled under the weight as the person rose.   
Perhaps it was easier to abandon it after only an hour or two of sleep before having to get up again. A long night and a long day ahead. From the window, the light was already sneaking in subtly as the sun began to rise earlier. Pushing the door open, the bustling place was a harsh welcome so early.   
“Morning...” The greeting was said without much emotion.   
“Morning, Y/N!” one of the girls replied as she prepared breakfast in the small kitchen while another girl, a redhead, sat at the round dining table, which also served as a living room.   
Each of them was getting ready for the day ahead. Y/N easily began to prepare herself something to eat, trying not to disturb the girl who was already using the kitchen, while the redhead curled her eyelashes while sipping tea. With a loud sigh, Y/N took a seat and had a simple toast.   
“How was yesterday?” the redhead asked.   
“Good... all the babies were healthy.”   
“I was talking about the date.”   
“Yeah, how did that go?” The other girl, with light brown hair and golden eyes, sat down too.   
Y/N simply shrugged, putting on face cream as she passed down the tea. “Good, I guess...” she replied, almost disinterested, but as she slowly woke up, she got a cheeky grin. “He’s taking me to the official party.”   
The other two girls gasped excitedly as if they were the ones invited. “But that’s Saturday, right?”   
“Yeah.”   
“Better! You promised me we’d go to Edward’s party on Friday,” the brunette added.   
“Don’t forget girls’ night on Wednesday,” the redhead chimed in. “And we promised Charlie to help her choose something for the hospital event next week on Tuesday.”   
“Ugh, but I thought we were all going to the downtown party together. There will be happy hour for all the drinks!” The brunette pouted slightly. “But I guess you and your all-mighty new guy have better plans than us.”   
“I know, I know,” Y/N replied calmly. “I’m aware.” 
Y/N chuckled, biting her lower lip as the other two girls joked with each other. “So? That’s all?”      
Y/N grimaced uneasily, softly humming, almost disinterested. “He was very... nice and cute, well-behaved.”   
“Are you describing humanity’s strongest or a dog?”   
It made her snort with laughter. “Minnie!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth as she laughed.   
“He’s not that talkative,” she tried to justify. “Or... perhaps he’s shy, stoic...” she clicked her tongue. “I don’t know.”   
There was a soft hum of uncertainty filling the silence, but it was overpowered by one of the cats demanding food. “Going, going,” one of the girls said as she got up and rushed to the cat's demands.  
 “I just... hope that maybe around his friends, he’ll get a bit more confident,” Y/N said, raising her hands in the air as if pushing her last hope onto the idea.   
  “Maybe,” the brunette tried to support the idea, resting her head on her hand. “You said he’s nice...”   
  “He is! He’s very nice...” she said, as if it were a consolation prize, letting the words drag out as if the idea didn’t fully satisfy her. “It’s just that I like my man with a bit more spice... a bit less vanilla.” 
— 
“Ugh...” A loud groan followed as the suit, still on its hanger, was brought closer to the position it would have once worn, allowing him to admire his reflection in the mirror. “I don’t even know why I agreed to this.” 
“’Cause you’re desperate?” Hange spun around in the chair, messily eating a snack, which made Levi frown as crumbs dirtied his pristine floor. “Think about it... you could make it kinda official this way and make sure the MPs won’t be hitting on her.” 
“I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” Levi replied, the idea of publicly declaring his relationship status not exactly appealing. “Don’t you think it’s too soon to make it official?” 
Hange shrugged. “Do you want my honesty?” 
“Yes, and I also want you to stop dropping crumbs on my floor.” 
The brunette took an extra messy bite before speaking. “I don’t think she sees it that way...” 
The little excitement Levi felt was quickly fading, and after Hange’s words, it simply ceased to exist. “Capital girls are taken to official military balls all the time... someone had to say it to you, shorty.” 
The squad leader probably thought of this as ripping off a band-aid. 
“Yeah,” Levi replied curtly, trying to hide his own disappointment. “Did you take a damn shower already? You stink.” 
Scoffing, Hange rose from their position, grabbed a bunch of crackers from the bowl to eat them all at once, and frowned deeply as they left. “I hope you get to empty your balls soon so maybe you’ll stop being so constipated.” 
Levi swore he was ignoring his usual, right, self-preservation instincts when he agreed to bring her there. The suit felt odd on him; he hated the environment, the people, the situation, how he was handling it, and particularly the looks. 
All those old greasy men who had lost touch with reality, their privilege, and their classism, were eyeing her. ‘She’s looking fucking breathtaking, but for fuck’s sake, behave,’ he thought. 
Her tight little red dress, her shiny, innocent eyes, her sweet smile, her shoulders and neck on display as she had her hair up—Levi was sneaking little peeks each time he got a chance. He could hide those, but the types of stares that he could hardly hide—and had no intention of hiding—were the ones he gave when he was just two steps away from her, and she was already being approached by another man. 
‘They’re like fucking flies,’ Levi thought, clicking his tongue, two dishes in hand as he walked back to her side. 
“It’s my first time at one of these events,” he began to pick up their conversation from afar. 
“Oh, there’s always a first time for everything, sweetie,” Levi knew exactly who he was—a high-ranking Garrison member from the west. “Did you come alone? Want me to get you something to eat?” 
“She came with me,” Levi spat out before she could look around and point him out. 
“Captain, I heard you came, but I didn’t believe it. Maybe we should insist on inviting you more often if you’re going to bring such pretty company all the time,” the dark-haired man said slowly, walking away as Levi’s gaze never wavered. Raising his cup in the air, he added, “Miss.” 
She timidly smiled back without saying much. 
‘If I ever catch him outside the walls... I’m pushing him over. His wife will thank me,’ Levi thought. 
Returning to her, he handed her what he had gotten from the buffet. “Thank you. I think he was a bit tipsy,” she said, taking her dish. 
Levi looked down at the dinner, which consisted mostly of little pieces heavily decorated. He grimaced. 
‘Can’t they just give normal fucking food for once? With the money they wasted on this posh shit, we could have gotten food that actually fills you up,’ he thought. 
He took a small bite, but the whole piece could easily fit in his mouth, and the taste didn’t appeal to him. “Do you want to get another drink?” 
Levi tried to swallow the bite he had taken before speaking. ‘I just had three glasses... maybe I don’t want to look like an alcoholic. Isn’t that what everyone thinks of soldiers? That all we do is get pissed drunk on citizens’ money?’ 
“I’m fine,” he said, but seeing her disappointment, he quickly added, “I can go and get you one if you want.” 
“No, it’s fine.” 
‘... that didn’t sound good. Fuck, what did I do wrong? I didn’t want another, but should I have just said yes?’ 
As the night went on, Levi began to regret his decision to attend. First, they were left completely alone as Hange and Erwin went to secure funds, and then she asked his worst nightmare. 
“Do you want to dance?” 
‘Shit... I fucking adore you, but there’s a limit...’ 
“I’m not much of a dancer.” 
Later, they were catching some fresh air on one of the balconies, also taking in the gardens, when they encountered a group of men smoking. “Do you want to go to another balcony?” he asked, catching the scent of cigarettes. 
The resigned look on her face as she forced a smile made him feel uneasy. “It’s fine, I’m not made of glass.” 
‘... maybe I’m the one who needs a cig. What did I say this time? I was just trying to be—’ 
“Sorry, you’re very nice,” she interrupted, running her hand through his arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. But the pleasant smile and condescending tone didn’t match the words. 
“Miss? The gentleman over there sent you this,” another staff member brought over the fifth drink sent her way. 
“Oh, thanks,” she said, accepting the glass. “You sure you don’t mind?” 
Shaking his head softly, Levi responded, “No.” 
‘I’ve killed people in the underground for less... way less,’ he thought. 
Clenching his teeth and trying to take deep breaths, Levi thought, The last thing I need tonight is to get jealous over stupid drinks... I learned my lesson last time. 
He noticed her rejecting those who asked her to dance, but Levi could see it all over her face. 
She’s bored... she’s so damn bored that she can’t even hide it anymore. 
It’s like knowing you’re running out of gas and not being able to reach anywhere safe with the 3DMG... Damn it! It's not my fault, I didn’t plan the party. 
Maybe I should have taken her for a dance... 
No, let’s be honest, I can’t do that. 
Levi’s mind was racing, seeing all his efforts crumble before his eyes without him being able to do anything. It didn’t help that the one time Erwin dragged him over to talk to some donors, he saw her from afar, chatting with a friend from the MPs and having a blast. Laughing, drinking, whispering in each other’s ears. 
This is a damn test... and I’m failing like the biggest idiot who hasn’t touched a single book all semester. 
The nobleman Erwin was trying to force Levi to listen to kept talking while Levi dissociated, trying not to pay attention. What the hell am I doing wrong? He tried to keep up the pretense until he saw it. 
Her being approached by another person, who stopped by and began talking and talking. 
No... no, over my dead body. 
Nile was rambling to her about something that had caught her attention enough that she was listening intently. 
No way I’m letting that asshole with a pitiful excuse for a beard talk behind my back, because I know that’s what he’s doing. 
“Yeah, very interesting, but if you’ll excuse me,” Levi interrupted the older man under the scrutiny of an extremely disappointed Erwin. 
He took quick steps, trying to reach them as fast as possible. 
“Nile,” Levi spat out the name as he got by her side, frowning at the man. 
“Oh, the Commander was just telling me that he met you when you were still living in the underground,” she commented as if there was a need for an introduction. 
“Ah, is that so?” Levi feigned interest. “Doesn’t your wife need a hand, Nile? Three kids are a lot to handle.” 
“Levi,” the MP acknowledged the Captain’s presence, “Marie is doing just fine, thank you. I was surprised you brought someone with you, so I decided to share some knowledge.” 
“He was just telling me that you beat his team up and stole their 3DMG gear when you were a thug.” 
Nile might be Erwin’s old friend, but he definitely wasn’t Levi’s, and they hadn’t been on the best of terms since... well, ever. “Maybe, I don’t really remember. If I had to remember each MP I put in their place...” 
“It was illegal, Levi,” Nile insisted. “You know... Levi was known for getting very close to a few female MP soldiers who went down there to meet him.” 
What the hell? You’re already married, why do you care? Levi felt the color drain from his face. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of what he did as a thug, but the underground was different, and he wasn’t ready to introduce her to that part of him. 
“Oh,” she hummed in understanding, turning to her left to look at the Captain. “Is that so?” 
“That was many years ago,” Levi added. 
“No, it wasn’t that many.” 
“Tch,” Levi went to grab her hand and suggested, “Don’t you want to go for a stroll around the gardens?” 
“No, I want to keep listening to how you put MP girls in their place in the hallways of the underground,” she replied, catching him completely off guard. 
What the hell? What else did you tell her, moron? She’s going to think I’m some asshole who goes around pretending to be a fuckboy. 
“Tell me, sir.” Her shining eyes and bright smile confused him deeply. “Why are you recalling or telling me any of this?” 
Suddenly, both men fell silent, and her change in attitude was unexpected. Levi noticed how her fake smile turned into a cheeky grin. 
“Are you jealous that those girls got railed up in a hallway and you didn’t? I’m confused.” 
“N-No!” 
Levi was speechless as he admired her. 
“Don’t worry, I’m not the jealous type. I’m sure we can all come to an agreement! I mean, as long as your wife is in favor,” Y/N replied, taking another sip of her drink but never breaking eye contact. 
Nile scoffed and left without saying much. “Cheers!” she said, raising her glass in the air. 
“I didn’t know you had that in you,” Levi whispered, trying to form a coherent thought. 
“Hmm?” She took another sip and chuckled. “Me? I didn’t know you were like that, Captain.” 
I claimed victory too fast. 
“No. Well, I was a brat back then.” 
“Is that so?” She questioned, but Levi was slowly noticing the changes in her body language. “Tell me,” she whispered, getting so close to his face that Levi could taste the liquor on her breath as she spoke. 
Frowning, he listened. “If I had been allowed to go down there...” her voice dropped lower with each word, “Would you have railed me up against a damp wall too?” 
Holy... shit— 
“That depends,” Levi’s voice dropped too, as neither of them broke eye contact, the tension between them rising. “I only punished them if they misbehaved in my territory.” 
She softly bit her bottom lip and looked at him through her lashes. “I can misbehave too, Captain.” 
The roll of her tone as she pronounced his title... I could get hard just from that... what the hell is happening? I don’t care, but I’m enjoying it. 
Levi chuckled; it came naturally at seeing her batting eyes at him and taking innocent little sips. “I thought you were a good girl.” 
“Oh, I’m a good girl,” she pouted, “...but I may like to do bad things with you.” 
I want to grip that stupidly pretty face of yours and... damn, where have you been my whole life? 
“Like what?” he asked huskily. 
She slowly rolled her eyes, swaying a little side to side and checking that they weren’t being observed. “I’m so bored.” 
“Are you? Tch, what a spoiled little thing you are,” Levi couldn’t resist running a finger down the side of her face, pushing a non-existent hair out of the way. 
“I don’t want to make Erwin mad at us...” she muttered, looking to the side, pretending. “What do you say you use those thug skills of yours to sneak us out of here, and we go to my place where my friends are out?” 
Forget whatever I said—God bless you, Nile! 
“I would say, give me fifteen minutes and meet me by the bathroom.” 
Play it cool, try to ignore the fact that all your blood is rushing down to your dick. 
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
Her hands moved to pretend she was arranging the folds of his suit. “I would say, make it ten.” 
Chapters left: 2
I wrote this high on painkillers and antibiotics, be nice lol
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meazalykov · 4 days ago
Text
everybody moved on, but I stayed there
barcelona femeni x bayern frauen x reader
summary: its hard to adjust when you thought your old life would be your only life
warnings: angst
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the call came early in the morning, the kind of call you had always dreaded but never truly believed would come. 
your agent’s voice on the other end of the line was steady, professional, but it carried a weight that crushed you the moment they spoke.  
“barcelona isn’t offering a renewal,” they said, their tone careful, like they knew the devastation these words would bring.  
you sat in your small apartment, the sunlight streaming through the window, mocking you with its warmth. the city outside was alive as always, the sound of bustling streets filling the background, but inside, you felt frozen. 
“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  
“they’re making some tough financial decisions,” your agent explained, trying to soften the blow. 
“it’s not about your performance. you’ve been phenomenal, but they’re restructuring. you know how it is... fighting for spots in the best team in the world. unfortunately, they’ve decided to let your contract expire.”  
the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had spent three years at barcelona, pouring your heart and soul into everything. you had thought this was your forever, the club you would retire at, the city you would grow old in.  
“so, that’s it?” you said after a long silence. 
“i’m just... done here?”  
your agent hesitated, then sighed. 
“i know this is hard, but listen. you’re one of the best defenders in the world. clubs are already reaching out, and we have options. lyon, chelsea, orlando, bayern munich—they’re all interested. they’re practically throwing themselves at the chance to sign you.”  
you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. the idea of leaving barcelona, leaving everything you had built here, felt impossible.  
“y/n?” your agent’s voice broke through your haze. 
“i know this is tough, but you need to think about your next step. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can be at a club that actually wants to keep you.”  
you hung up soon after, unable to stomach the conversation any longer. the rest of the day passed in a blur. you avoided your teammates, knowing the questions and the pitying looks they would give you.
the decision wasn’t even yours to make, but the weight of it pressed down on you like it was. every day at training, you felt it in the pit of your stomach, an ache that wouldn’t go away. you tried to mask it—forcing a smile here and there, going through the motions during drills—but it didn’t take long for your teammates to notice.  
you looked down at your training kits and game kits everyday since that phone call, knowing this would be your final weeks wearing the barcelona name. 
“are you okay?” alexia asked one afternoon after practice, her voice gentle. she had always been perceptive, her captain’s instincts sharp. you nodded quickly, brushing her off with a vague excuse about being tired. 
she didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you, worried.  
by the time the news had fully sunk in, you could hardly meet anyone’s gaze. every touch of the ball, every shared laugh in the locker room, felt like another goodbye you weren’t ready to say.  
you hadn’t been yourself on the pitch, your passes lacking their usual precision, your tackles hesitant. when the session ended, everyone filed into the dressing room, chatting and laughing as always, but you stayed silent, your head down as you untied your boots.  
keira, sitting next to you, noticed your distant expression. she nudged your shoulder lightly. 
“what’s up with you today? you’ve been... off.”  
you froze, the question catching you off guard. for a moment, you thought about brushing it off again, but something about the concern in her voice broke the wall you’d been holding up for weeks. your hands trembled as you placed your boots down, and before you could stop it, tears welled up in your eyes.  
the room fell silent as everyone noticed. keira leaned closer, her voice soft. 
“y/n? what’s wrong?”  
you took a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you finally spoke. “i have to leave,” you said, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat. 
“barcelona isn’t renewing my contract.”  
gasps echoed around the room, followed by an overwhelming silence. the weight of your confession seemed to crush the air out of the space.  
“what do you mean they’re not renewing your contract?” aitana asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.  
“i thought you’d be here forever,” vicky added, her brow furrowed.  
you shook your head, wiping at your face as the tears kept falling. 
“i thought so too. but... they said it’s financial. they can’t offer me a new deal. it’s not up to me.”  
“no,” mariona said quietly, standing up and crossing the room to sit beside you. her arm wrapped around your shoulders as she pulled you close. 
“this can’t be happening.”  
you leaned into her, the comfort of her presence grounding you as sobs shook your body. mariona held you tightly, her own voice breaking as she whispered, 
“i understand. i know what it’s like. i’m leaving too, remember? i thought this was my forever club, just like you. sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to. you’ll be okay, nina.”  
the rest of the team sat in stunned silence, the reality sinking in. salma finally spoke, her voice steady but full of emotion. 
“this isn’t fair. you've tried your hardest for this team. we’ve all seen it.”  
“it’s not fair,” you agreed, your voice barely audible. 
“but it’s happening. and i have to accept it, sal.”  
mapi, sitting across from you, shook her head. 
“accept it? no, we’re not accepting this. you’re one of us. no matter where you go, you’ll always be one of us.”  
their words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they weren’t entirely from sadness. amidst the heartbreak, there was comfort in knowing how much you meant to them.  
mariona squeezed your shoulder, her voice warm despite the sadness in her eyes.
“wherever you go, they’re lucky to have you. it’s okay to be upset right now. we’re upset too, you’ll grow to love your new club just as much as you love us.”  
you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. “i’m going to miss all of you so much,” you said, your voice trembling.  
“we’re going to miss you too,” keira said softly, and a murmur of agreement swept through the room.  
the rest of the evening passed in a haze of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. mariona stayed by your side the entire time, her presence a constant source of comfort. as someone who was also leaving, she understood your pain in a way no one else could.  
when you finally left the locker room that night, the reality of your departure felt a little less heavy. your teammates’ love and support reminded you that even though you were leaving barcelona, you would always carry a part of it with you.
alexia tried to talk to you after everyone left, her voice soft.  
“we’ll miss you,” she said, her eyes searching yours for any sign of emotion.  
you forced a smile, nodding as your throat tightened. “i’ll miss you too.” but even as you said the words, it didn’t feel real.  
packing up your life in barcelona was harder than you expected. every corner of your apartment, every street you walked, every café you passed, was filled with memories. leaving felt like abandoning a part of yourself.  
when the offer from bayern munich came, you accepted it with a numb sense of duty. it wasn’t excitement that drove your decision, but necessity. you couldn’t stay in barcelona, and bayern seemed like the best option.  
the first few weeks in munich were strange. the city was beautiful, the people were welcoming, but it didn’t feel like home. 
your new teammates were kind, going out of their way to include you in team dinners and outings. georgia took you out for coffee, and sydney invited you over for dinner. they made an effort, but no matter how hard they tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.  
“how are you settling in?” klara asked one evening after training. the two of you were stretching on the pitch as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the stadium.  
you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 
“it’s... fine.”  
klara gave you a sympathetic look. 
“it’ll feel like home eventually. i know how you feel.. just give it time.”  
you nodded, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.  
despite your inner turmoil, your performance on the pitch was stellar. you threw yourself into training, determined to prove that you belonged. the bayern fans quickly grew to love you, chanting your name in the stands during every match.
even as you celebrated victories with your new team, a part of you longed for the camaraderie you had at barcelona.  
when you heard about barcelona’s successes, you felt a pang of jealousy. not because you wanted them to fail, but because you wished you were still a part of it.  
“do you ever talk to them?” georgia asked one day as the two of you sat in the locker room after a match.  
“sometimes,” you admitted, scrolling through your phone. your former teammates still messaged you, names like esmee, alexia, and keira lighting up your screen with texts like, “we miss you,” and “come visit soon.” but it wasn’t the same.  
months passed, and slowly, you began to find your footing in munich. 
when bayern beat real madrid in the champions league quarterfinals, you felt a surge of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. the way the team celebrated in the locker room reminded you of the joy you used to feel at barcelona after an el clasico game against the same time you played tonight. 
for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could be happy here.  
then, the semifinal draw happened. bayern munich vs. barcelona. 
your stomach twisted when you saw it. the thought of facing your old team felt like a cruel twist of fate.  
“are you ready for this?” sydney asked as the team prepared for the first leg in munich.  
“i don’t know,” you admitted.  
the match was intense. you found yourself marking aitana, the two of you locked in a fierce battle throughout the game. every time she tried to break through, you were there, blocking her path. 
by the end of the match, it was 1-1, with goals from alexia and pernille.  
“good game,” alexia said afterward as the two of you crossed paths in the tunnel. there was a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe? or nostalgia? you couldn’t tell.  
“thanks,” you replied, your voice tight.  
the second leg in barcelona felt different. walking into the stadium, you expected to feel a sense of loss, but instead, you felt... content. 
this was your old home, but it didn’t define you anymore.  
however, your heart thumped in your chest, not from nerves—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but from the weight of what this game meant. the second leg of the champions league semifinal. bayern munich vs. barcelona. your old club vs. your new club.  
giulia adjusted her captain’s armband slightly beside you as your hands steady on your mascot’s shoulders.. despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. the kid mascot looked up at you with her wide eyes, clutching your hand tightly. 
you smiled down at the young girl, offering a small squeeze of reassurance, even though you could have used some yourself.  
the players began walking out, the bright lights of the stadium flooding your vision as the roar of the crowd hit you like a tidal wave. it was deafening. thousands of voices chanting, cheering, and shouting in a language that used to feel like your own.  
you stepped onto the pitch, the familiar sight of camp nou stretching out before you. the stands were a sea of red and blue. 
for a moment, you felt a flicker of encouragement, a warmth in your chest. this was barcelona—this was home.  
wait a minute??? it's not. you cringed as reality hit, sharp and unforgiving. the cheers weren’t for you. not anymore. they were for the players in blaugrana, for the badge you no longer wore. 
you were bayern now. the crowd that once lifted you, chanted your name, celebrated your every move—they were now cheering against you.  
the realization stung more than you wanted to admit. your steps faltered slightly as you made your way to the center of the pitch, your head held high despite the ache in your heart.  
yet, amidst the overwhelming roar of the home fans, another sound reached your ears. it was faint at first, but it grew louder the more you focused on it. the bayern munich away fans, tucked into a corner of the massive stadium, were cheering for your team. 
their voices didn’t carry the same weight in numbers, but there was something in their tone—raw, passionate, unwavering—that hit you differently.  
they went through the lineup and gave the girls name chants. after pernille, they started chanting your name. your name.  
the sound of their voices cut through the noise of the home crowd, filling you with a strange sense of belonging. they weren’t just cheering for bayern; they were cheering for you.  
you straightened your posture, a quiet resolve settling over you. 
the kid beside you tugged at your hand, pulling your attention back. you smiled down at them again, this time with a bit more confidence.  
the anthem began playing, and you sang along quietly, your voice steady as the camera panned across the line of players. the stadium was exciting, the tension building as kickoff loomed.  
as the anthem ended and the players began to move into position, you took one last glance at the crowd. the cheers for barcelona still rang loud and proud, but the bayern fans’ voices echoed in your ears, grounding you in the moment.  
you were here for them now. and for yourself.  
the whistle blew, and the game began.
this game was one of the best of your career. you cleared shots from ewa, stopped aitana in her tracks, and made a crucial save against kika nazareth-- a forward you never got to play with. 
when you took a corner kick in the 89th minute, you didn’t expect anything to come of it. but the ball curved perfectly, slipping past cata and into the net.  
the stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting into german chaos. your jaw dropped as you covered your mouth in disbelief. your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious.  
however, you didn’t celebrate. you couldn’t. out of respect for the club that gave you everything, you simply walked back to your position, your head held high.  
after the final whistle blew, bayern advanced to the final with a 3-1 aggregate score. as you walked off the pitch, you avoided looking at your former teammates. you were afraid of what you might see in their eyes—anger, disappointment, betrayal.  
later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from alexia. 
“we are proud of you. good luck in the final :)”  
it took you a moment to process her words. maybe they didn’t hate you after all.  
as bayern prepared for the champions league final against manchester city, you felt lighter. the weight of barcelona no longer pressed down on you like it used to. 
you would always cherish your time there, but you were starting to realize that your future was here, with bayern.  
and for the first time, you were okay with that.  
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moonchildstyles · 9 months ago
Note
First time sex with rosemary 🌿
wordcount: 9k
—————
Wiping her floured hands on her apron, (Y/N) brushed her hair out of her face with her wrist before reaching towards her back pocket for her vibrating phone. Her lips curled into a soft smile seeing Harry's name on her screen, his contact featuring a photo of him sleepy-eyed next to his kitten in her bed had her smile stretching wider. Taking a quick glance at the time, she was sure he'd just made it back to his apartment after finishing up at the grocery store. 
Quickly, she peeled her gloves from her hands and peeked out into the storefront of the bakery. Just as she had left it a handful of minutes before, there weren't any patrons now that the morning rush had passed, leaving Sabrina tucked behind the desk with her book folded open. 
"Hey, I'm going to take my fifteen really quick. Is that okay?" As soon as Sabrina gave her the go ahead with a wave of her hand with her eyes still stuck to her book, (Y/N) was answering the call with a tap of her thumb. "Harry?" she greeted, stepping out back of the bakery for a bit of privacy in the mid-morning air. 
"Hi, peach," he murmured through the receiver, voice drooping and soft, "Is it alright that I called you? I know you're still working, so." 
"Your timing was perfect, actually," she told him, knowing he was probably more worried than he was letting on for fear of having ruined her day, "Everything just cleared out from this morning, and I needed a break." 
"Yeah? Long shift already?" he pressed, the sound of sheets shuffling on the other side with a petite meow chirping through. 
"A little bit, yeah," she sighed, wishing she was wrapped up in warm sheets with Harry and Rosemary, "Just one of those Sunday morning shifts, you know. How was your night, though? Work was okay?" 
"Yeah," he said, the syllable floating out on a long suffering sigh, "Theo and Brett were still annoying, but I think Fawn is going to cover one of my shifts this week." 
(Y/N) immediately perked up at the new information. She'd been urging him to take some time off this past month; he didn't have to work himself to the bone anymore, not now that his issues from back home had been resolved. It was unhealthy, she'd told him more than once—he would make himself sick with more than just exhaustion if he wasn't careful. 
"Really? What day?" she bubbled off, ready and willing to shift her own schedule around if he wanted. 
"Thursday." 
She could hear the smile in his voice as he uttered the words. He knew what reaction he was going to get. 
"Are you serious?" she beamed, bouncing on the soles of her feet, "You have the whole weekend off then?" 
"I do, yeah. So do you." 
"Harry," she bleated, "I'm so excited! We haven't had any time together I feel like, and now we get a whole weekend! Thank you!" 
"That's what I was thinking when I made my request; barely seen you this past week. 'S not fair." 
"It's not," she affirmed, "You haven't even been able to sleep over since Friday. I'm not used to that." 
"Me neither, peach," he murmured, his tone decidedly more somber than just a moment before though she understood where he was coming from. 
Ever since their impromptu road trip, they tended to have as many sleepovers as their schedules would allow. Besides the comfort that came along with being at each other's side—especially in the case of Harry's frequent nightmares—, it was hard to forget how much they liked sharing a bed and sitting down for meals together. 
"Did you want to do anything special?" she prompted, already racking her brain for anything that Harry would enjoy leaving the house for. 
"I've got to go to the library at some point," he mused, another chirping meow sounding from the background prompting a huff of laughter to leave his lips, "But, other than that, I was hoping I could catch up on m'sleep." 
"We can do that," (Y/N) decided, shifting her view of the days off to turn into cozy sheets and breakfasts in bed, "A weekend long sleepover. We'll make a thing of it." 
"Yeah?" Harry asked, a smile audible in his tone—a vision that had (Y/N)'s chest warming. "How are we gonna do that?" 
She hummed, sifting through her ideas before landing on a few to share, "Probably movies if we have the attention span for it—if not, we can read together or something. We can do face masks too—Ooh, or I'll get another of that hair mask you like. Let me think, but I have some ideas." 
"'M sure y'do, peach," he murmured, his voice decidedly lower and slower than before, sleep vining around the edges of his words, "Whatever y'want, we'll do. I trust you." 
"I'll make sure we make a thing of it, H," she told him, reluctant to say her next words but knowing he needed to get as much sleep as he could manage, "I've got to get back to the ovens, but I'll text you when I'm off." 
"Yeah?" he mumbled, "Tell me when y'get home?" 
"You've got it," she smiled, feeling the winter sun warm on her cheeks, "Goodnight, H."
"Goodnight, peach." 
With that, (Y/N) ended the call. Hopefully, he would be able to sleep through the rest of her shift at least. He just needed to get through the next few days, then he'd have some time off to spend at her gingerbread house. 
The thought had that soft curl on her lips feeling permanent. She would have to remind him how proud she was that he was taking a couple of days off, the time well-deserved. 
Just like she said, she would make a thing of it, she only had to figure out what a thing for Harry looked like. 
—————
With Rosemary wriggling in his arms, Harry nearly fumbled his keys to the ground while on (Y/N)'s stoop. She was a calm little thing nearly any other time of the day, but as soon as they were at (Y/N)'s door, Rosie couldn't settle. 
Keeping his hold on her tight, he was able to finally stumble through the door before letting her spill out of his arms. Her feet pattered over the hardwood, beelining for the kitchen just as he knew she would. Harry could only shake his head as he kicked off his shoes by the door, setting them next to (Y/N)'s under the foyer table. He couldn't stay mad, though, especially not when he heard the familiar cooing of his peach filtering down the hall. 
"Where's your daddy, Rosie?" (Y/N) crooned, voice a soft murmur through the house, "We've got to talk to him about how hungry you are when you come over. Is he not giving you enough treats?"
Following the sound of her voice, Harry's lips curled instinctively into a soft smile when he spotted (Y/N) crouched next to his kitten, fingers massaging through her fur. There was a part of him that wanted to peer out the small window above her sink, ensuring no one was watching in—a part of him that he forcefully tamped down in favor of reveling in the sight of his stitched family. 
"You know I feed her," he drawled, leaning against the threshold of the entrance, "I don't know why she acts like this when we come over." 
It was the way (Y/N)'s features seemingly bloomed when she looked up at him. Her hand absently continued petting Rosemary, but it was clear all of her attention was splashed upon him. It was when her eyes were on him with nothing but adoration that had Harry happily anchored to the moment, warm and comfortable in his skin. He hoped he was able to make her feel that way when he looked at her. 
"Hey, H," she smiled, giving one last stroke to Rosie before she was standing to her feet and crossing the kitchen towards him, "I was going to ask you how work was, but you're on vacation." 
"I am, aren't I?" he mused, collecting her into his arms.
(Y/N) looped her arms around his neck while he hugged her around her middle, face cradled into the crook of her neck. His eyes fell closed reflexively, his chest expanding as he pulled in a deep breath. The sugary scent of her skin filled his lungs, her hair tickling his nose. 
"Are you excited?" she asked, trailing her fingers up and into his hair as she drew away. 
Matching her eyes, her question drifted away in favor of tipping forward and pressing a kiss to her lips. A giggled out his name against his mouth, muttering something about answering her, though Harry didn't pay it any mind. He focused on the give of her lips under his, the seam parting when she eventually melted into him. Her hands in his hair was a warming tether, keeping him from drifting out of her pastel kitchen. 
It was her that pulled away first, cutting off his indulgences earlier than he liked. He attempted to chase after her, craning his neck with puckered lips, though that only granted him a peal of her laughter fluttering between them. 
"Not in front of Rosie, H," she teased, unwrapping from his arms to move towards the stove where a warm oven and bubbling pan had gone unnoticed before. 
Harry stood back, watching as she stirred and tasted and adjusted, clicking on the light in her oven to take a peek inside. No matter how many times he'd offered to make dinner, take care of her meals—told her that he liked cooking, even—she had insisted that she wanted to take care of him, take one worry off of his plate. When she put it that way, he didn't feel like fighting with her. 
"She's seen worse, peach," he countered, leaning over the peninsula counter with his forearms flat on the surface. He had a perfect view into the domestic dream that was his (Y/N), complete with a bow in her hair despite the mess of a bun on the top of her head. 
A small laugh fell from her lips as she looked over her shoulder at him, "Maybe, but we shouldn't encourage it. Dinner's almost ready anyway, so we don't need to be distracted." 
"Yeah? What'd y'make?" He could see just the edges of something creamy in the pot she was stirring.
"Sabrina's family is visiting, and her dad gave me this recipe for stuffed shells with all this cheese and, like, spinach and stuff. I thought we'd try it out." She gave him a beaming smile when she finished whatever she was stirring, taking it off of the burner with the timer on the oven ticking down to less than two minutes. 
"That sounds really nice, love. Thank you. I've got dishes tonight." 
"Harry." A small scold—as expected.
"(Y/N)," he responded in the same arguing tone as she, "You're letting me—and my cat—stay here all weekend, 'm not letting us leave a mess here for you too. 'S alright." 
This was one of those things he didn't allow much room for argument on. It was one of those things—fear of feeling like a burden—that had come with the years on the run while attempting to ensure his impact was never felt. He was working on it, sure, but the least he could do for all of (Y/N)'s kindness was taking care of the dishes. 
"Okay," she relented, eyes rounding out as she looked up at him, "Just not tonight, though. I have something special for you after dinner." 
He did recall her saying something about making this weekend a thing for him, he just didn't really know what exactly that meant. "And, what's that?" 
A sheepish look crossed her face, softening her features and lining her eyes. "It's kind of silly, but I got some fun bath things and, like, candles and stuff. I wanted to make everything a little special tonight since it's your first extra, real day off in a long time." 
The longer she went on explaining herself, Harry could feel his own lips curling into a small smile. "Really?" he asked when she finally took a breath. 
"Yeah," she started, dropping her eyes from his, "But, you don't have to use them or anything if you don't want to. I know it might not really be your thing, and all." 
"Love," he crooned, the petname falling from his lips just for her to hear, "Thank you. That sounds really nice actually—don't remember the last time I took a bath like that. 'M always too worried about the water running cold." 
(Y/N)'s expression brightened at his words. "I'm excited for you to see all the stuff I got for you, then. But only after dinner—and dessert."
"Dessert?" 
"Of course dessert," (Y/N) smiled, moving back to the oven on the brink of beeping, "But that's a surprise." 
It was the way she looked at him before she gave her attention to the oven and baking pasta, how bubbly she seemed over something as simple as a surprise sweet for him to have at the end of the meal. That was what had him all but melting into the countertop. She could have fed him garbage and left him to soak in an ice bath and he'd be just as happy—all he needed was for her to keep looking at him like that. 
—————
"Are y'sure y'don't want me to do the dishes tonight?" 
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling out of Harry's embrace to head towards the kitchen and the plates waiting by the sink. "Yes, I'm sure, H. I want you to relax this weekend, I don't mind doing a couple of plates." 
"But—" 
"No," (Y/N) cut him off, plugging the sink before beginning to fill the basin with soapy water, "As soon as I get this ready, we're going to my bathroom and I'm showing you all the stuff I got for you, and then you're going to not think about the kitchen again for the rest of the night." 
"I'm not?" he asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at her insistence. Sometimes it was fun to argue with her for no other reason than he liked to see her put her foot down with a smoke to her gaze. 
He thought it was cute.
"Nope. Not even for a second." Amusement covered her own features by the time she cut the tap and turned to face him. "C'mon." 
With that, she flitted out of the kitchen with socked feet padding over the flooring. She didn't have to look back to know Harry was following. 
Tailing her through the house with his gaze carefully landing on the round of her hips as they swayed with her steps, she took him to her bathroom. There, on the counter, was a brown paper bag with a white painted logo on the front. A gifting ribbon had the handles tied together on top,  a tag with his name dangling from the tendril. 
In presentation, (Y/N) stood off to the side of the counter, a beaming smile on her face as she flourished her hands out. "Happy free weekend." 
"What's this, hm?" he hummed, stepping over the tile with his gaze narrowed teasingly in her direction. 
"Your bath stuff," she said, practically bouncing in her spot as he began reluctantly untying the bow. He wanted to keep it perfect—he couldn't remember the last time he received a gift, especially one like this. 
Harry could feel his eyes on her as he began digging through the bag. Floating on top were two powdery spheres, striped in alternating colors with dried flowers stamped inside. He settled them gently on the counter, his hands coming away with remnants of the sweet smelling dust. 
"They're bath bombs," (Y/N) piped up, "They're those things that dissolve in the water and make it colorful with all these nice skin things in them. The purple one is lavender and sage, and the blue one is lotus and jasmine."
Smiling at her explanation, he reached back inside the bag. A glass bottle filled with sweet smelling oil was his next find, the wax seal corking it closed having dripped its way down to the label. He could smell the warm, floral notes from here, even with the contents sealed away. Looking at the simple label wrapped around the thick of the bottle, he looked up at her with raised brows. 
"Massage oil?" 
It was the way she hesitated that had his lips stretching into a smile. "Its—I—It doesn't have to be used for that. It can just be a nice body oil if you want, but I... I mean if you want a massage, I could use that, so." 
So far, this was his favorite gift from her reaction alone. He settled it with a clink next to the bath bombs. "I'll keep that in mind." 
Next in line was a candle, standing tall in a cold glass voice in the bag. Pulling it out, the four wicks were sealed away with the help of the suctioned lid, showing off the marbling of the wax tucked inside. It was a swirling jade color, complete with lapping white streaks to emulate the gemstone. Under the just right light, he could see bursts of glitter suspended inside. The label boasted a vanilla sage scent, surely meant to match the sage bath bomb he'd picked up earlier. 
"Peach," he smiled, looking at his gifts spread out on the counter for him, "These are so nice, than—" 
"There's more," she bubbled, unable to contain herself this time, "At the bottom." 
He raised a brow but dug inside like she suggested. At the bottom, his fingertips brushed something smooth and flat. Getting his fingers around it, Harry already had a good idea of what he was pulling out, a smile spreading over his features and denting his cheeks with dimples. 
It was a book—one of his favorites from the library. One he had loved enough that he wished he had his own copy to keep him company—something he had told (Y/N). The cover was the black and white with splashes of red, the artwork glossier than what he had borrowed from the library. The spine was uncracked, kept in pristine condition—just the way he liked it.
"I know you've already read it, but I thought you might want to read a little again while you take your bath," (Y/N) mused at his side, her hands in a fumbling bundle before her. 
"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, looking up from his new, personal edition, "This is all wonderful, really. Thank you, so much." 
With his book still in hand, he collected her in his arms, tucking her against his chest. While he wasn't one hundred percent sure what all of the things he had received were, it was more than warming to think about her perusing a shop with him in mind, plucking things up with the intention of sharing them only with him. 
"I know it's all kind of silly, but I'm happy you like it," she murmured into his shoulder, the curl of her smile felt against the cuff. 
"'S not silly," he told her, drawing back just enough to get a look in her eyes, "I can't remember the last time anyone has done anything like this for me. I really like all of it, (Y/N). Thank you." 
Tipping his chin, he pressed his lips to hers, hoping she felt his words as much as she heard them. He felt eased when her lips molded into a soft smile. 
"I'm happy I could change that," she cemented, beginning to untangle himself from his hold, "I'll leave you to it, then. Take as long as you want, I'm just going to clean up and we'll go to bed—" 
"You're not staying with me?" 
How was he supposed to enjoy all of these trinkets and things without her there? What was the point of a sage candle and glittery bath bomb if she wasn't going to be indulging with him? 
(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, one foot out of the bathroom. "Oh—um, no? I was going to go clean the kitchen and things, remember?" 
"Yeah, but," he started, watching to reach out and keep her on the tiled floor with him, "can y'do that later?" 
"Do you want me to?" was her simple response. 
Harry nodded. "Yeah." 
Her features were warm, taking a step back into the bathroom with him. "Then, I'll do it later." 
It didn't take long for their clothing to be shed, lying in a lumpy file on the floor with the tub filled to the brim with steaming water. Harry had chosen the lavender bomb to be placed in the water, (Y/N) all too excited to show him the magic of the fizzy powder. She had urged him to sink in first, her gaze following the lines of his body before she had gone after him. 
Harry wrapped his arms around her as she sunk into him, his chest to her back. The steaming water rippled around them, scenting the air with crisp lavender and warming sage. Every deep breath he took had the bunching in his muscles lessening and lessening until he was lax with (Y/N) in his hold. He could feel her every breath, the expanding of her chest that pressed back into him, the brush of her hair drifting through the surface of the water and tickling his skin, the careful way she had her hands laying atop his own where they were threaded over the soft of her stomach. It was easy for his eyes to shutter closed with his head tipping back against the rim of the tub. 
It was almost enough to keep him from acknowledging the curve of her body pressed against his cock.
Now wasn't the time though, he starkly reminded himself, taking in a deep breath of the calming lavender. She had wanted to relax with him, not get felt up with a dick pressing against her ass. 
"Do you like it?" 
The sound of (Y/N)'s crooned words had him blinking his eyes open. He wasn't even hard yet, how could she know that he was already talking himself down? 
"What?"
"The bath bomb," she laughed, oblivious, "You said you've never used one before, right?" 
"Oh," he sounded, exhaling finally, "Yeah. 'S nice—it smells really nice. I could fall asleep in here.”
Twisting in his arms, (Y/N) shot him a beaming smile over her shoulder. "I have before—I don't recommend." 
"Yeah?" he smiled, much more willing to focus on this anecdote than on the way the shifting of her body hit points on him he would have rather ignored for the time being. 
"Oh yeah," she cemented, shaking her head, "I only woke up when I felt water going up my nose 'cause I started slipping." 
Though she laughed off the remark, a frown settled on Harry's lips. "Y'almost drowned? (Y/N)..."
Her name came out as a scold, one that had her letting out another peal of laughter. "No, I didn't drown, H—" 
"You almost did," he pointed out. 
There were parts of him, traits that he gained during his years protecting his mother and sister, that were now woven into the fabric of his personality. Hearing (Y/N)'s story had that protective gene flaring up in him, urging him to hold her tighter, keep her at his side. He wouldn't let his mind wander to another version of events where she hadn't spasmed awake when the warm water touched her nose. 
His limbs became a warming cradle around her form, caging her to him lest the bathtub somehow raise tsunami waves and try to pull them apart. He pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, speaking against the skin, "I don't like that." 
(Y/N) wiggled her hands underneath his, turning her palms up to match his own with her fingers threading between. "It's just a funny story, H. I'm fine—you know I don't take baths, like, ever, anyway." 
His brows pinched into a furrow. Sure, maybe he did know that. "Still," he grumbled.
Harry's petulance only served to draw another breath of laughter from her chest. 
She wriggled in his hold some, melting into him as she slid deeper into the water. The milky shaded water ripped around her, Harry keeping her close as she settled with her head resting against his shoulder. 
"I'm fine, Harry," she cemented, peeking up at him with an adoring smile on her features, "But, you're cute for worrying." 
Taking in a deep breath, he did nothing more than dropping another kiss to the cuff of her shoulder. He wasn't trying to be cute—he was protective. It was a part of his nature. 
Shuttering his eyes, Harry indulged himself and allowed his kissing to continue down her shoulder, only stopping when the lapping line of the water halted him. With his fingers laced between hers, he pulled her arm out of the pastel bath. He dotted his lips down the line of her limb, nose skimming her skin in his wake and raising goosebumps. A plume of laughter left his peach, the sound enough to have his own smile taking place as he fought to smear his lips over her skin. 
It wasn't until he was headed towards her wrist, landing on the soft underside of her arm that he slowed when he, through cracked eyes, spotted a slash that had made a home in her skin. It was small, though it looked only partially healed—still a warm red and slightly raised.
"What happened here?" he murmured, a pinch furrowing his brow. 
"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed dazedly, shuffling in his hold before spotting what had made him stop in the first place, "Oh, Rosie scratched me by accident." 
It was something so minor, completely mundane and curable. The scratch wouldn't even scar, and yet Harry still felt his shoulders deflate. He would have to remind Rosemary to be gentle with her mother—she was entirely too special, no need to have claws out when being held by her. 
He apologized for his cat with a small press of his lips to the cut. 
Under the cover of the pastel water, (Y/N) untangled her hand from his that was still laid against her stomach. He was left to feel the give of her plush skin under the pads of his fingertips while she carded her own through his hair. Though he attempted to continue the dotted affection of his kiss over her skin, he didn't stand much of a chance as he reveled under her touch. 
Maybe it was the brush of her nails against his scalp, or the slight give of her body under his hand, or just the fact that he could feel every line of her body against his own, but Harry felt his stomach tense then. It was minute and fleeting, but something he felt under the blocking muscles of his abdomen. 
He attempted to keep a lid on whatever that feeling could lead to by taking a deep breath, but that only reminded him of (Y/N)'s skin right under his nose and the fact that she had been the one to run him this bath and that was why she was naked, and warm, and wet, and pressed right against him, and that was why his hands were on her and—
"H?" 
Blinking his eyes open and drawing away from her, Harry looked up to match her wide eyes. "Hm?" 
There was something teasing on her expression, lighthearted in her eyes with a small tug edging on the corner of her mouth. "Are you okay? You weren't breathing for a second." 
"Oh," he sounded, mouth dry, "Sorry." 
She shook her head, murmuring something about him being funny or cute or something, but, admittedly, Harry didn't have an ear to lend at that moment as (Y/N) started moving around him. Wriggling out of his hold, Harry stayed still in the water as she maneuvered around until she deposited herself in his lap. Her thighs were spread to cushion his hips, her bottom settled on the thick of his thighs while her chest was flush against his. Only trickles of the lavender water were able to make their way between her breasts and the curves of her body, leaving her shimmering with the scented oil on her skin and suddenly warmer than the steaming water. 
Looking up at her, Harry took his time tracing the lines of her piled hair with the wet ends sticking to her skin, warm cheeks glowy and dewy, the soft light reflecting in her eyes from the candle she had lit and stationed behind their cuddled bodies. He felt breathless—reverent. 
It was never far from his mind just how deeply (Y/N) had impacted him. Without her, he never would have been knocked out of the daze that was his life—the cycle of never-ending loneliness and purposeless decisions. She had changed him in ways he was scared of, the ways that he had avoided for years because it was easier to stay the same. He didn't enjoy thinking of who he would be without her, where he would be. 
It was with that knowledge and the sight before him, that Harry wanted nothing more than to worship her and show her the purple that he had been given now that she was in his life. Religion wasn't anything that ever consoled him during his years on the run, but if the temples and altars had looked like her, the gods held her kind eyes and warming touch, he may have reconsidered. 
"You can touch me, you know." 
Dropping back to earth with a flutter of his eyes, he realized his hands were lax at his sides, careful to keep a distance from her skin. She had been the one to tie her arms around his neck, to keep their bodies close, while he had basked in the sight of her alone. 
"Sorry," he murmured, placing his palms on the full curve of her thighs. 
He skated them over her form, taking in the rounded edges of her body and warm skin. He'd touched her before, enough times to have mapped out every crook and groove, and yet, it still felt like the first time when he allowed him to feel. It would never get old knowing that he had someone like her that loved him enough to allow his hands to land on her. 
"Don't be sorry," she murmured, ducking her head until she planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I just don't want you to feel like you can't touch me—I'm yours, H, remember?" 
There was that stirring again in his stomach, that tensing in his muscles that felt much deeper and lower than he would have liked during a relaxing cuddle with his girlfriend. It was just the reminder, that declaration that got to him just like it always did. 
(It was a bit embarrassing, in Harry's opinion. Would it always be this easy to work him up? Would (Y/N) always be able to say a handful of words, let his hands wander to her hips, and then he would be done for?) 
"You're mine," he sighed, sinking deeper into the water. 
It was (Y/N)'s turn then to trail her lips over his skin, the pillows of her lips never fully lifting from his skin before she was planting another kiss. She went on with the tip of her nose smushing against the line of his jaw as she worked down to the column of his throat. He could feel himself growing harder and harder with every kiss, every brush of his hands over her body, until he was sure (Y/N) was well aware as well. Though she made it abundantly clear she didn't mind when she rocked her hips against his, his cock pressed against his stomach and the soft core between her thighs. 
A shuddering exhale caved his chest. 
"I'm yours," she crooned, the heat of her words fanning over his heated skin.
Her own arms wrapped around his neck began to drift, leaving only one tangled in the waves of his hair with the blunt of her nails tracing his scalp. Her touch skated down the length of his chest, her eyes settling into a daze as they followed the journey of her hand until it disappeared under the water. His abdomen jumped under her hand the lower she went until the heel of her palm grazed the plumped head of his cock.
He couldn't help the way he tossed his head back, leaning into the palm of her hand. His voice came out in a breath, "I want you so bad, peach, I'm so sorry." 
(Y/N) drew away just enough to match his eyes, her wandering hand settling against the middle of his chest. "Why are you sorry?" she asked with amusement in her eyes, a soft smile on her lips as she shook her head, "You don't have to be sorry." 
"Jus'" he started, focusing on the sight of her as opposed to the weight of her form and warmth of her skin against him, "I don't... Don't want to ruin tonight since you're already doing so much, and you're only trying to relax and 'm reacting like this and—" 
She cut him off with her lips pressing against his, the edges of her mouth unable to fall in line with her kiss as she fought back a smile. "Do you think I don't want you, too, right now? If I didn't, I wouldn't be climbing all over you, H—or trying to get you to take me back to my room." 
Shifting on his lap once more, (Y/N) emphasized her point with a small roll of her hips against him, her warmth grazing over his length. 
His hands on her waist tensed, denting into her flesh with stern fingertips. Was she asking for what he hoped—what he'd been wanting but was too fearful to ask for in worry of pushing her?
His mouth felt dry as he took in her features, watching as something heated lingered in her irises. "A-Are y'sure?" he mumbled, unwilling to misread the conversation. (Y/N) loved taking care of him, he never wanted her to think he was intending to take advantage of that. 
Carding her fingers through his hair, the tip of her tongue peeked out from between her lips to run along the seam. "I've really missed you, H. It's not always enough just to call you before I fall asleep, you know. It's not the same as actually having you." 
A spark pinged in his chest at her words, the memories they dredged up. A couple of times over the last week with his busy schedule, they'd spent some extra time on the phone before (Y/N) fell asleep for the night and Harry worked through an especially long shift. He knew exactly what she meant: now that he knew what it was like to be touched by her, his own hand, his own fantasies paled so starkly in comparison it was almost embarrassing. 
"I can take care of you, peach. 'M sorry I haven't been doing m'job, but I'll make it up to you," he crooned, tipping his head in hopes of pulling her in for a kiss, "Y'want m'mouth or m'fingers, love?" 
It was only when she shook her head that he paused. That hand trapped between their bodies made a deliberate graze down his body until she skated her fingertips over his length, the ruddy head twitching over her touch. "I want you," she corrected, "Don't you want to fuck me?" 
Maybe it was the fact she rarely cursed, or just how intensely she was meeting his eyes, or the feel of her grabbing his cock, but Harry could have blown it all right then. His throat felt thick as he attempted to swallow down the moan building in his chest. His eyes were hooded, a vignette forming around his view of her. 
It would be so easy to sink inside her, split open her walls and make a home between them. All he needed was to shift his hips just right, and then he would be taking advantage of her spread legs and the slick around them. But, his worry of disappointing her—leaving her unsatisfied—held him back. 
His mouth felt dry by the time he found his voice. "I—um—(Y/N)," he started, unsure of how exactly to divulge the information in him, "'S been a while since I've—..." 
He wasn't sure what he was expecting her reaction to be, but he gladly took the small kiss she offered him, sealing his lips to hers. "How long?" 
"Since before everything," he sighed, allowing himself to sink into her kiss and the brush of her mouth against his, "I don't want to... leave y'unsatisfied if 'm not... good." 
That had her lips curling against his, a cluster of small kisses being pressed to the full of his lips before she pulled away. "It's going to be good before it's you, H. I'm not worried—I love you, remember?" 
Was it normal for him to feel his cock pulse at her declaration? Or was he really that easy? 
"I love you, too," he slurred before taking her mouth against his once more. It was messy and heavy, clumsy and unsure, but he didn't care. "I want to fuck you so bad, peach. Can I?" 
All it took was a soft nod of her head before he had his arms lacing underneath the thick of her thighs with the water splashing around the tub. He held her tight, grip stern as he stood tall in the pastel water. (Y/N) let out a bubbling laugh, clinging to him with a gasp as if he would ever drop her. 
With her pressed tightly to his chest, his cock was now fit snugly between the planes of his abdomen and the soft folds between her legs. Water sluiced down his form, a chill befalling his skin now that they'd left the steaming pool behind, though that had no effect on just how hard he was for his peach. 
"We didn't have to right away," (Y/N) laughed, fingers denting the broad of his shoulders, "If you weren't done—" 
"'M done," he cemented, dropping her onto the bounce of her mattress with only a small amount of guilt at getting so much water on her sheets. He'd change them for her later. "You're m'favorite way to relax, peach—don't need all the rest." 
Laid on the center of her bed with her skin gleaming and warm, scented so sweetly from their bath, Harry had a new level of respect for his self-control. But, that was in the past now, left in the bathroom along with the droplets of water on the floor and the candle he would have to remember to blow out before they fell asleep. 
Crawling on the mattress with his cock heavy between his legs, he fit his body between her spread legs, reveling in the plush of her thighs on either side of his hips. (Y/N) reached for him on instinct, looping her arms around his neck with the curls on the back of his neck dampening against her skin. 
"Hi, you," she murmured, a bubbly smile on her lips as if she hadn't just asked him to fuck her a moment ago. 
He could only shake his head, dropping a kiss to the bridge of her nose as he situated himself above him with his forearms stationed on either side of her head. "Hi, peach. What are you up to, hm?" 
"Nothing much," she laughed, hitching a thigh over his lip in a languid move to thrust him forwards. "You?" 
Harry's voice was stilted in his throat, feeling her slick folds give around his cock when his length split through. He could feel the minute pulsing of her clit against his base. "Jus' worried 'm not gonna last very long at all, nothing important," he attempted to joke, if only to feel of plume of her laughter fill the air. 
Instead, he garnered a smearing of (Y/N)'s lips against his own, her affection tender and lingering. "Don't worry about that," she urged him, "I don't care—I just want you to feel good." 
A furrow pinched his brow, his heart rattling when she rocked her hips underneath him as if it wasn't already hard enough to concentrate. "But, I want y'to feel good too, and—" 
"I will as long as you do," she reiterated, amusement sparking in her blown pupils, "I don't care if you finish early, just finish in me, that's all I ask." 
Harry couldn't contain the moan in his throat, the rumbling falling from his throat as he rested his forehead against hers with shuttered eyes. He could feel a bead of warm precum blurting from his tip, dripping to land on the soft of (Y/N)'s stomach with a pulse. 
"You're going to kill me," he murmured, not sure if he was speaking for her to hear, "D-Do y'need me to do anything f—" 
Cutting him off with a kiss, (Y/N) slipped her tongue between his lips only to offer a quick taste before she was pulling away once more. "You can feel how wet I am, right?" 
As if he could forget with the way she was pressed against the underside of his cock, the ridge of his head tight between their stomachs. He answered with a small nod. 
"Y-You're sure, then?" he murmured, attempting to tap into that self control he had back in the tub. 
"I want you, H," she assured, nothing teasing or urgent in her voice, only sincerity, "As long as you're ready, I am, too. It's just me—you don't have to worry." 
His only response came in the form of a small kiss and a declaration: "I love you, (Y/N)." 
"I love you too," she smiled into his kiss, a small roll of her hips turning his brain to mush. 
His breathing was strained as he reached between their bodies, his fist wrapping around his shaft. Looking down, he watched as she spread her thighs that much wider as he swiped his cock between her folds. She was sticky and wet, clinging to the width of him as he split her open enough for his head to kiss her clit. He could see the jump of her muscles, the small whine that chirped from her lips, but he couldn't seem to stop himself—especially when a thread of her slick stuck to him, only bowing and breaking when he reached his cock towards his stomach, too far for the string to extend. 
"Harry, please," she quietly pleaded with him.
The sound of her voice was just enough to knock him back into the universe. It was enough to remind him that this wasn't the main event, there was even more warmth and wetness to be explored. 
Pressing the tip of his cock to her opening, he held himself steady as he pressed his hips forward. It was a tight squeeze, a feeling that took his breath away. As much as he wanted to catch (Y/N)'s expressions, see exactly what she looked like as he sunk inside her for the first time, he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock fitting inside her core. With every stretch of his length pushing through, less and less coherent thought filtered through his head. 
Instead, all he could think about was the snug fit of her walls around him, the pulsing with every heartbeat, just how wet she was, the warmth that enveloped him and welcomed him deeper and deeper. By the time he bottomed out, his mouth had fallen into a gape and his arm propping him up was now shaky. His only anchor was the grip he moved to have on her hip, his palm slick and sticky from fisting his cock though he didn't have it in him to care. 
He really, really hoped (Y/N) meant it when she said she wouldn't mind if he blew it fast; he doubted he had much longer left, and he'd only just sunk inside. 
"Y'alright, peach?" he breathed, his words fanning across her skin when he finally looked up to reach her eyes. 
Looking at him with hooded eyes, the pupils wide, (Y/N) gave him her confirmation in the form of a jerky nod. "I'm okay," she mumbled, "Are you?" 
"'M good," he said, feeling drunk despite not a single drop of alcohol even being present in (Y/N)'s home, "'M so good, peach. 'M scared 'm too good." 
"It's okay," she smiled at him, if only a bit dazed when she threaded her fingers through his damp curls, "Just do whatever makes you feel good—that's enough for me." 
He wished he could have told her how much her affection meant to him, how he couldn't believe she loved him the way she did, how there was no one who had such an effect on him, but there was no way his tongue was going to follow any kind of command let alone any train of thought to actually form. Instead, he settled for a searing kiss against her already swollen lips. 
Though he doubted he would have any chance at composure, he still attempted to catch his breath and his brain before he reared his hips back for the first time. Pulling out of her warm channel was enough to add some form of clarity to his mind, though it didn't last long before he pushed forward in a shallow thrust. Her walls welcomed him in once more, warm and snug with every ridge forming around him in a pulse. (Y/N)'s thighs tensed around his hips, a slight tremor to her muscles though she managed to let out a sigh of pleasure against his kiss. 
"Fuck, peach," he murmured when he bottomed out once more, the crown of his length tapping her furthest walls. 
A furrow had his brows pinched though his eyes remained closed, even when he couldn't manage to kiss her anymore, his lips simply resting against her own parted ones. He shared panted breaths with her, his forehead resting on her own with (Y/N)'s fingers curling in his hair. 
Though the pace was slow, he was able to curate a rhythm that kept him from finishing right away. He didn't feel too far from the edge, but this was as good of a chance as he was going to get when she felt as good as she did. 
"H-Harry," she whined, her voice breathy and airy, "You're so big." 
His hips stuttered at her words, the previously shallow thrust he was working on turning into a harsh grind against her core. The jolt had another moan rumbling her chest with a curse falling from Harry's lips. 
"Y'can't say that, peach," he murmured, unable to keep his pacing, "You're gonna make me cum and we've barely started." 
Every stroke was indulgent, lingering when he wanted, harsh and deep when he changed his mind, anything and everything to his taste. His only chance was in moving his hand from her hip and shaky positioning it between his punishing hips and her forgiving core. At the apex of her folds, her clit pearled. Though his hand was shaky, he still managed to smear the pad of his thumb against the bud, feeling the budding pulse that matched the hammering of her heart. 
Suddenly coming to light, (Y/N) managed to bring him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and clumsy, leaving their lips swollen and teeth glancing off one another, but there wasn't any room for perfection. 
Harry needed her, that was all he knew. His stomach tightened with every thrust, his balls shining with her slick with every slap against her ass. (Y/N)'s thighs were warm and tight on either side of his pelvis, unwilling to let him venture too far before accepting him back inside. 
"(Y/N)," he panted, shaking his head, "P-Peach, 'm so sorry." 
"Don't be sorry, do—shit—don't be sorry, H. I want you to cum, okay? Cum in me, please." 
How was he supposed to deny her? What kind of boyfriend would he be if he said no to such pretty words?
Keeping his thumb running circles around her swollen clit, Harry couldn't stop himself before harshly thrusting inside her and pausing when he felt the first spasm wrack through his abdomen. There was a bunch to his muscles he hadn't even realized until the thread keeping them together snapped. 
Ropes of his cum spurted out, decorating and flooding her walls with every pulse. She grew impossibly wet around him, his thumb barely keeping track as he tried to tend to her clit even through the tremors. He ground his hips against hers, unwilling to draw away even an inch out of her warmth as he came.
The world slowly came back into focus as he pulled in puffs of air, (Y/N) delicately kissing his bottom lip. He felt so hot, sticky despite the bath he'd just soaked in. 
Was sex always like this? He couldn't recall ever coming this hard, but had it been too long for him to remember? Or was this another (Y/N)-only thing? He could readily believe that highs like this only came from being in her arms. 
"Still with me?" his peach murmured, a wanton edge to her voice that reminded him that there were much more important things than his own pleasure. 
He nodded, finally reciprocating her kiss. "'M here, peach. I've got you."
Despite the oversensitivity beginning to leak into his system, he managed to grind into her just enough to match the swirling of his thumb against her clit. She gasped into his mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue past her lips and sweep over her own. He got a taste of her pleasured moans, reveling in the feel until it seemingly became too much for her. 
In a way he was now familiar with, (Y/N) let out a chirping moan, delicate and shaky into his mouth. That was the first sign before her fingers in his hair began to tug at the roots in a stinging pull, and toes curled. Her pussy clung to the shape of his cock, his cum overflowing around himself and dripping down to the bed under her ass as she gushed around him. His oversensitivity had him crying out a call of her name, her pulsing walls almost too hot to handle as she came around him. 
He could have done this all night, Harry decided. He could have pet his fingers over her clit and pressed into her walls for hours if not for the fact that they were both beginning to see the less than favorable side of sensitivity. 
"'M gonna pull out, okay?" he panted, blinking his eyes open to find his (Y/N)'s still shuttered. She answered in a quiet nod, her lips parted as she breathed. 
Though it was a bit reluctant, he drew his hips back in a slow glide. His softening cock slipped out with a wet sound as (Y/N) unfurled her legs from around him. A small whine left her lips, but she didn't stop him, only clinging to him.
Settling in bed beside her, reaching for one of the pillows stationed at the head of the bed, Harry fixed it under their heads. (Y/N) instinctively rolled to face him, sharing the cushion with him. He gave her time as she came down, brushing his fingers through her hair and over the planes of her features until she managed to crack her eyes open. 
"Hi, you," he smiled, repeating her small tease from earlier. 
A plume of laughter fell from her lips, a slight smile forming on her kiss-swollen lips. "Hi. What are you up to?" 
"Nothing. Jus' looking at you." 
"Nothing important then, I see," she laughed, snuggling closer to him until Harry was collecting her into his arms with her head tucked into his neck.
"Very important, actually," he corrected, amusement draining from his tone, "Thank you, peach. Really." 
"You don't have to thank me, H," she countered, "I obviously got my own benefits out of this, so don't think I just did this for you." 
He knew she was trying to play with him, get him to loosen up, but he wasn't in the mood for that just yet. He was a touch too sentimental at the moment. 
"You know what I mean," he murmured, planting a kiss to the top of her head, "I jus' love you, and... always means a lot when y'trust me, and let me be with you. Thank you." 
"I love you, too, Harry," she reciprocated, her own arms giving him a pulsing hug, "It's easy to trust you, really. I wouldn't want to have these kinds of moments with anyone else—you're the best thing that ever happened to me, honey." 
Though he knew they needed to change her bedding, and blow out the candle in the bathroom, get (Y/N) cleaned up, and mop up the bathroom, Harry couldn't find any good reason to extract himself from her arms. 
There would never be a good enough reason that came above being with her like this. 
—————
ahhhhh! thank u sm for reading and to whoever requested this! sorry for any mistakes and if you have any fun ideas or requests of your own please send them in!! if you want to read more, you can check my patreon page:)
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casualhedonists · 1 year ago
Text
✩ it don’t need your loving, it just needs attention ✩ (chapter three)
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pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader
chapter: 3/? (MASTERLIST)
warnings: NSFW (18+), snow being snow, themes of sex work (not the reader), cuckolding, eventual smut, fake relationship, unprotected sex, themes of voyeurism & mild exhibitionism, murder mention (but no actual murder) (not yet at least?), MAJOR manipulation/gross power dynamics + generally darkish themes, power play, oral sex, thigh riding, degradation, dirty talk, eventual piv, i’m new to full on smut bear with me here (and pls tell me if i forgot anything!)
i do not give permission for my work to be reposted/translated anywhere, under any circumstances.
taglist: if you’d like to be tagged, leave a comment on the masterlist post and i’ll add you! 💌
a/n: thank you for your patience and condolences / kind messages over the past week i’ve been awol. i’m very happy to be back. very long, filthy and much awaited chapter ahead, so strap in and hope you enjoy the ride.
in the words of miss zegler herself: oh we are so back.
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You weren’t sure how long he stared at you, smiling with a fire in his eyes that rivalled yours until it was eclipsed. A third and final time, you found yourself speechless, dumbstruck, and one final time, much like the others, you took a few shaky steps backwards, before turning and fleeing.
He knew. He’d known this whole time. How long had he been planning this? Exactly how much of this had been an act, with Snow puppeteering you as you slowly lost your mind?
You almost felt pity for the girl, because she was played just like you were. She was a mere pawn in his game of chess, where he’d toyed with you until you were backed into a corner, unable to make a move.
Well, not this time. Now you knew what he was playing, you were ready to up your game. This wouldn’t be another stalemate; you wanted to win, and you had a few ideas of where to start.
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You were already up and dressed when you heard a knock at your door the next morning.
Dreading the worst – despite the fact that Snow had never actually been in your room before, but the rules had changed now and you weren’t sure quite how much – you paused for a second to prepare yourself, praying that he wouldn’t be there, ready to put a stop to your plans before they’d even started.
You fell lucky. It was one of Snow’s footmen, George.
“Good morning, ma’am. I, um.” He swallowed, not meeting your eye. “I have a message from Master Snow. He’d like for you to meet him for breakfast in a half hour, if you will. He says you have something… quite important to discuss.”
Typical Snow. Never liked to get his hands dirty. Too proud to knock at your door himself.
You considered.
“George, could you please tell Coriolanus that if I’ve already eaten, and that I’ll come to him when I see fit. If he isn’t satisfied,” you added, for his sake, as you knew Snow wasn’t above killing the messenger, “Say I have an urgent matter to tend to, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”
You grew a lump in your throat from your refusal, fearing the consequences. But you’d set your plan into motion now and there was no going back. Once George had been sent on his way, you snuck down the stairs on the far end of the building and slipped out the door through the servants’ quarters, where you knew Snow wouldn’t see you leave. The one upside to the last few weeks was that you’d learned how to sneak around the manor unnoticed. You were certain there were at least three hallways he’d had never even set foot in.
You had Lucille call Henry – Snow’s driver – in advance so you could leave right away.
“Where are we going, ma’am?” He glanced at you over his shoulder as you slid into the black town car.
“Head into the city. I’ll explain on the way.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
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Henry took some convincing – and some light bribing – to finally cave and tell you what and where this gentleman’s club was. Of course, it was a risk, a roll of the dice to go there without concrete proof, but you knew Snow. You knew his little neuroses and hang-ups, and he was paranoid; in all senses, it would seem, except when it came to you. If he’d been frequenting this club for some time – some years, according to Henry – and trusted their discretion, then you highly doubted he’d play Russian roulette and pick somewhere else.
You were dropped off outside, and sent Henry to the tailor to pick up some of Snow’s things; an excuse for the outing, but a part of your plan too. He was hesitant to leave you alone in such a place, but you insisted you knew exactly how to handle yourself, and so he gave in.
You’d deliberately dressed down for what you were about to do, worn your old coat and let your hair down with a hood pulled over it. It being daytime, the place was closed for business, but you knocked on the front door expectantly.
You waited. Went over the plan, and knocked again.
This time, the door opened and a burly man now stood between you and the inside of the brothel. Your curiosity made peek over his shoulder before he cleared his throat.
“Can I help you, miss?”
“Yes. My name is Margaret, sir, I’m a maid at the, uh,” You dropped your voice to a low whisper, “Snow household. I have a message for the owner of this establishment, from my master. Is he here?”
The man cleared his throat and glanced around the nearly empty street, then beckoned you in quickly.
“Anything for Mr Snow, miss. Right this way.”
There was your proof.
The empty club was a classy one, you had to give Snow that. The bar caught your eye, silver panels lining the wall behind it in an otherwise jet-black glossy room, with dark red couches and shiny tables, booths, single chairs, a stage with shiny metal poles, and a few cordoned-off alcoves.
You took it all in, certain you’d be able to appreciate the aesthetics of it more if it wasn’t for the seething rage inside you. You were stopped at a closed door near the back, and the burly man knocked.
“Yeah.” Came a voice from inside.
“All yours. He���ll take care of you.” Your guide stepped away. You pushed at the door.
A dark-haired man sat facing a desk, poring over paperwork. He didn’t look up.
“If you’re here for a job, sweetie, it’s Tuesday after 11.”
This incensed you.
“I’m not here for work. This is official business. I was told you take care of… special clients.”
He spun around, frowning.
“I’m listening.”
“I have a message from President Snow. He has a series of requests to be carried out with no delay.”
“Ah, yes. Mr Snow. I see. And you are to him?” He prompted.
“Just a maid from the household. He sent me as a messenger.”
“Excellent. Well in that case, of course, miss. How can I be of service?”
You took a breath, hoping desperately that he didn’t see right through you.
“Firstly, the shoes your girl wore.”
“What would he like with them?” He asked.
“He’d like to keep them. He’s willing to pay, and he’s not up for a price negotiation. This should cover them.” You slipped a bill across the table, and he nodded. You learned long ago that money causes loose lips, and this man was no exception.
“Of course,” he obliged, “They’re in the lockers through that door there. I’ll bring them to you. We ordered them in specially for Veronica, he made a point for her to wear them on the first floor. Usually our girls get instructions to sneak through clients’ houses quietly, but we handle every request as thoroughly as possible.” He chuckled.
That fucker. He really had planned it all out to get in your head.
“Was there anything else I can do for you, miss?”
You swallowed thickly.
Here goes.  
“Yes, actually. As of today, he’ll no longer be needing your services, or her services. He’d like to terminate your contract, and he doesn’t wish to see her again. Ever.”
The owner blinked. His mouth moved, as if he was about to say something, but then it closed again.
“But, um,” he stammered, “It’s only been three weeks. Veronica is our best girl, and he’s her top client. She carried out his orders to the absolute best of her ability, I can assure you. Are you sure those were his words?”
You sighed.
“She’s getting off lucky with a dismissal. Take it as a warning, sir. President Snow doesn’t show mercy to thieves. If she shows her face again, I can guarantee you, he’ll have her head.”
His face turned plum-red with horror.
“She was… stealing?”
In a way, yes.
“She was caught by a maid last night.” You nodded, and the owner swallowed thickly.
“I – I understand, Miss. I am terribly sorry for this. I apologise that our services weren’t up to your master’s expectations, truly. Please, if there’s anything I can do- and I can assure you, I’ll be having some very stern words-”
You cut him off.
“There is one more thing, as a matter of fact."
"Anything." He pleaded.
"You can send word that… Veronica, is it? She’ll be paying him a visit this evening. But you are not, under any circumstances, to send her. Am I understood?”
He furrowed his brows, puzzled. But you stared back challengingly and held your ground.
A small, sheepish smile formed on his face.
“Much obliged. I can assure you your requests will be carried out with the utmost discretion.”
“Thank you.”
He brought you the heels in a shiny box, and you turned and left.
Henry was waiting outside, and you slid back into the car.
“Get what you needed, ma’am?”
“I certainly did.”
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The drive home was your chance to pick up lunch, finetune your plan, and go through the suits you’d had Henry pick up from the tailor.
They looked impeccable – crisp and creaseless, the white shirts brighter than the stars, and the maroon red jackets and waistcoats deeper than blood itself. It was one of these jackets that you chose to take upstairs with you, leaving the rest to be taken up to Snow’s room later, hoping the missing item would go unnoticed.
You retraced your way up the winding stairs of the manor. Luckily, Lucille had informed you Snow had left not long after you that morning, and was expected to be gone until evening. Nonetheless, your paranoia made you glance left, right and left again before every turn. Finally, after an exhaustingly long morning, you were back in the safety of your own room.
But the work was far from finished. You ate quickly, then began getting ready for your discussion with Snow. He hadn’t sent for you again; he was too proud. You took pride in knowing he’d be positively seething at your turning him down that morning. You kept going, showering, teasing your hair, adding a little more makeup than usual – not excessive, but enough to make a difference – then finally wandered the room as you picked your wardrobe for later.
You lay out the heels – which were a little big on you, but would serve their purpose – as well as the jacket you’d stolen, taking the time to run your fingers over the smooth maroon velvet you’d felt only briefly before, when brushing against Snow at public events. You then dug through your underwear drawer, debating between a red lingerie set and a white. You picked the latter; the tones of red would blend in with the jacket and white made more of a statement.
Innocence. If only.
You checked the time. Three hours or so until Coriolanus would be expecting Veronica. You hoped that he would be back by then, and more so, that your performance with the brothel owner had been enough to hold him to his promise of sending word. But if you’d learnt anything from Snow, it was that fear commanded respect, and better yet, obedience. So your doubts were few and far between.
In all honesty, that’s what had drawn you to Snow in the first place. It wasn’t about money; your family had money, more than they knew what to do with. It was the power, the fear. Even the richest man in the world would crumble to the ground with a gun to his head. Power trumps wealth every time, and the enigmatic, newly elected President was by far the most powerful man in Panem.
It was its own kind of thrill, pursuing a man like that. The temptation to get him wrapped around your fingers, ravenous, hungry for power, hungry for him. It all blurred together at this point, the man was like a magnet. You wondered if this thirst for more, always more, was an affliction the two of you shared. Or perhaps, an affliction you’d developed a taste for because of him. And the longer you spent at his side, the louder it began to beat in your chest like a second heart. You wanted to consume it, and let it consume you.
It thrummed in your chest now, adrenaline coursing in your veins. You fidgeted as you waited for the hours to pass, your craving growing with each second. You flicked through a few books; you drafted a letter to your mother. Each tick of the clock bringing you closer to finally taking the one thing you’d wanted since the day you met Coriolanus Snow. It was almost time for your big move.
✩✩✩✩
As enough darkness crept into your room and you stood to light some candles, you heard soft footsteps pass your door.
For a change, you recognised them as Snow’s, even and deliberate. He was home. With half an hour to spare until he’d be expecting his whore.
You jumped at the opportunity to change. Slowly and carefully, you slipped out of your clothes and into the underwear set, until you were clad in crisp white lace, with a matching garter belt as a finishing touch. You slid on Snow’s jacket – which smelled like him, of his cologne – the usual fitted shape it would give Snow now hanging loose and slack around your body, falling to the tops of your thighs. You did up the first button, tracing the neckline that plunged down your chest, leaving very little to the imagination. You slipped into the heels, checked the time, and after scanning yourself over in the mirror, made for the door.
The few worries you had about being seen by the staff were short-lived; the hallway lights were dim as you wobbled in the heels, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. You weren’t sure if Snow had fallen for your plan, but what mattered was that as you turned the corner, there were lights shining from under his bedroom door. He was in there, waiting. By now, it was odd seeing it closed. You tried your best to emulate the sound of the footsteps you’d drilled into your brain, the clicks giving you a sense of power knowing Snow – apprehensive or not – would be in for at least one surprise.
Click. Click. Click.
You considered pausing before barging in, but you didn’t. When you reached the end of the hallway, seconds away from your fate, you reached out a hand, pushed Snow’s door open, and walked right inside.
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Snow was there; of course he was. Facing his dresser and away from you, he didn’t flinch at the sound of your arrival. You closed the door behind you, and took a step towards him. Stared at his back, scanning his black dress pants and the white shirt he’d rolled up to his elbows, cufflinks on the table, blonde curls a little unruly as he smoothly poured himself a drink.
This, right here, was where the solid part of your plan ended. It was caution to the wind from here on out, and you could practically taste it, high off the adrenaline; off his presence. And he hadn’t even looked at you yet.
This was the moment of truth.
“Well,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “Look who finally figured it out.”
“Not who you were expecting?”
“She’d never reschedule.” he said simply, turning on his heels, eyes glinting at you. “Figured you were up to something. Drink?”
“Think I’ll pass.”
He approached you, eyes scanning your body, deliberately clad in the skimpiest underwear you owned. You figured this was as good a time as any to unbutton the jacket and let it fall open. It brushed your sides, and you watched him lower his glance, hungrily taking you in for what could quite possibly be the very first time. He wet his lips, took another sip.
There it is.
There was that power you craved, that look that you’d been aching to see in his eyes while he stared at you, and although it was fucked up, you let the pride fill your head with confidence, and stepped forward.
“Now, just where did you get that?” A slight narrowing of his eyes gave him away. At least something you’d done had made an impression.
“Borrowed it. In case I get cold.” You smiled.
“Cute. Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to take things that aren’t yours?”
“Oh, I take whatever I want, Snow.”
You raised your head in defiance. Proud of your voice for not faltering once.
“Clearly. Nice shoes. Borrow those, too?”
“Why, do they look familiar?” you quipped.
“I think we both know the answer to that, doll. Now why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”
You sighed, feigning exasperation. A chill crept up your legs but you barely noticed.
“You wanted to talk to me, Coriolanus. Talk.”
“Is that really what you came here for, sweetheart? Dressed like that?” He put his drink down on the dresser, not once looking away from you.
“If this is what it takes to get your attention, Snow, then yes.”
You took another step closer, and the jacket fell further to your sides, more skin slipping out from underneath for him to feast his eyes on.
“I think you know plenty about trying to get my attention. I watched you struggle for weeks.”
“Didn’t think you cared.” You muttered.
He laughed, low, more like a scoff.
“What, your childish attempts at seduction? They were pitiful at best. I’d expect that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady of your standing.”
“Thought you liked whores.” You retorted.
“They’re no fun to live with. And there you were, proving my point.”
Your eyes narrowed, and when you spoke, it was through gritted teeth.
“So what, you had to go and fuck one to prove a point? Mature.”
“Mature?” he glowered, then before you could think, he stormed towards you, grabbing both of your wrists with a hard squeeze. You gasped.
“Mature like you, with your short skirts and your fuck-me eyes, sucking your fingers off at the breakfast table?”
You squirmed. Tried to jolt yourself away but it was no use.
“I didn’t think you-”
“Oh, I noticed.” He said, moving in to corner you, grip tightening until he was walking you backwards across the room as he spoke, never once taking his eyes off you. “And it’s a real shame this couldn’t have been easier for us both, but you just had to start it. So I watched your pathetic little displays, day after day, knowing if you’d behaved better, I would’ve given you exactly what you wanted.”
You fought not to trip over yourself until your legs bumped against the ottoman at the foot of his bed and you caught your breath. His eyes bored into yours and you blinked helplessly. His grip loosened on your wrists. You tried to speak, but your mouth had gone dry.
“If you’d been good,” he continued, voice lowering, “you wouldn’t have played around like that. Good girls don’t whore themselves out to respectable men.”
Your eyes narrowed in defiance as you felt heat start to brew in your stomach.
“Respectable?” You spat, and his grip tightened again, bringing one hand up to trace your jaw, almost pitifully.
“See what I mean? You dig yourself deeper at every turn. Good girls ask nicely, and say please. It didn’t take me long to figure out you had issues with authority. It could’ve been so easy for you, sweetheart. You had plenty of chances. You could’ve asked me very nicely to fuck you, but instead you behaved like a desperate slut for weeks on end. Eventually, I knew there was only one way to shut you up.”
Your ears started to ring and you fought harder to gain composure. He’d never talked to you like this before. And now, all this, all at once, it was almost too much. Goosebumps had long covered your arms and legs, despite the heat inside you burning you up. You were vaguely aware of heat pooling uncomfortably between your legs.
Your breathing was heavy as you stared into him, his hand gripping your chin, and you couldn’t hide it if you tried. He finally backed away, letting you peel yourself from the ottoman. His hungry eyes scanned over you, suit jacket now crumpled at the wrists. You swallowed as you tried to pull yourself together.
“You knew I was watching you. The whole time. Every time. It was… for me.”
He watched you knowingly, raised his eyebrows a little. His lips grew into that smirk, that fucking smirk you knew all too well.
“We were playing the same game, sweetheart. I was just… Better.”
“A little excessive, don’t you think?” Your voice faltered and you cursed how breathy it sounded.
“Oh, on the contrary. It was very entertaining to see you struggle, but I could’ve gone further.” He mused. “I even considered fucking her on your bed.”
Shit.
A thought popped into your head, and a strange smile made its way to your face.
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I got these?” You asked, glancing down.
He frowned for a second; good. You’d thrown him off guard. But he caught up fast.
“The heels? You know, I had her walk right past your door in those so you’d follow her and see just what you were missing?”
If you weren’t so wired with adrenaline, you were pretty sure you’d be tearing up with how desperate you felt. But his words channelled it all into pure anger.
“Fuck you.” You seethed, and he smiled.
“We'll get to that. But go on, I’ll bite. What did you do to her?”
“Let’s just say she deserved much worse than what she got. Maybe you should’ve fucked her on my bed. Would’ve given me a reason to choke the life out of her.”
“You think I’d care?”
“Course not. Knowing you, it’d probably get you off.”
“Which brings us right back to now.” He stared at you, challenging. You laughed again.
“Is this you talking? You’re not very good at it.”
“No, this is me giving you a second chance. The way I see it, you made your move, I made mine. Now, if you’re a good girl, and ask me very nicely to fuck you until that pretty little head of yours gets filled with nothing but empty space, I might consider putting an end to this and giving you what you want. Maybe.” If you thought you’d survive smacking that smug look off his face, you would.
“You want me to ask nicely, Coriolanus?” You closed the gap between the two of you and glanced up at him through your lashes. He looked back at you, and no chill in the world could cool you down from the fire in his eyes.
He stepped away, paced towards the desk chair – the one he’d watched you from last night – then dragged it across the floor, spun it around, and took a seat. Once again, last night felt worlds away now. A lifetime sat between that moment and this one as he made himself comfortable, unbuttoned his collar. As if the room was now a stage, and he was the sole spectator.
“Go on. I’m waiting.”
Cocky bastard.
Another airy laugh escaped you. But you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t exactly where you wanted him. So you played into it.
“You want me to beg you? Say pretty please?” Your voice softened as you slowly stepped towards him, holding his gaze. A passing thought reminded you of your childhood, asking your mother what you’d feel when you first truly fell for someone.
Fireworks. Thousands of them, crackling, hissing, charging the air between the two of you into something heavy. Thick clouds of smoke you could almost taste as you stared into darkened eyes. You paused in front of him, fingers playing with the hem of his suit jacket that brushed against your thighs. Caught your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Take it off.” He ordered.
“Gladly.”
You slipped the jacket off your shoulders, and it fell smoothly into a pile on the floor. You kicked off the heels next, landing haphazardly to the side with a thump. His eyes never leaving you, consuming you.
“Like what you see, Snow?”
He took you in, long and hungry and shameless. Like you were simply there for his entertainment, nothing else. You wondered where along the line he’d lost all his inhibitions, at what moment in his very young life he’d decided to simply stop caring. It should scare you, but it just made you burn warmer. Maybe your wires were a little crossed, too, because it didn’t make you feel cheap.
It made you feel powerful.
You knew you looked good, too; you’d made sure of it. But he was looking at you like you were carved out of solid gold. He didn’t answer, because he didn’t need to.
“Think I like you better when you’re not acting like a dumb slut.”
You hummed, determined and unphased, moving in closer until your legs touched his knees. His words shouldn’t turn you on - nor should not knowing exactly how much he meant them – but they did.
“You like me better when I’m begging, then?” You placed your legs either side of his, straddling him, but still standing, and took his hands in yours. You ran one of them across your lips, brazenly taking a digit in your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop, then dropping your head down.
“You want me to be straightforward, Snow? Tell you exactly what I want?” you breathed, your foreheads almost touching, looking down at him from a thrilling vantage point, your hair falling either side of his face. “To beg you to rip this off me?” You guided his hands to your hips, letting them slide over the lacy fabric. “You want me to beg you to kiss every inch of skin you see and make it yours? Beg you to fuck me until I can’t think, and forget my own name?”
You ran his hands down the sides of your legs, then, inch by inch, letting him take a good long look on the way, you finally lowered yourself onto his lap. Your blown-out eyes met again, at the same level this time. You shifted your hips once, feigning getting comfortable, and hid a smile as he let out a strained sound.
You were close enough to feel his breath against yours, fast but steady, controlled. You moved closer, your head dipping cautiously under his chin to kiss his neck. He smelt clean, like fresh laundry and his cologne, and his skin tasted like salt as your tongue traced a line across it. It felt like power, having him like this. Slowly starting to grind your hips as your mouth pressed against his pulse, every shaky breath you elicited from him awakening something new in you.
“Say it, Snow.” You murmured, breath catching. “Tell me you want me to beg you, and be good for you.” Another trail of messy kisses across his jaw, and you finally heard it, ragged and coarse, words shooting through you like knives softened by the heat of his breath on your hair.
“Be a good girl, and fucking beg me.”
You hummed with satisfaction. Moved your lips to his ear, hand cupping the back of his neck, and leaned in close.
“If you wanted me to be good,” you whispered, “then you’ve picked the wrong girl.”
You felt it, his whole body tensing beneath you. But you had it now, the upper hand, and you weren’t giving it away. Your other hand came up to close over his mouth with a warning shake of the head, and you gripped the back of his neck harder with the first. Craned it backwards so he could look at you, a different kind of fire in his eyes. A fire that could burn you far worse than any other. You leaned your weight into him until you were flush, skin pressing into fabric. Tightening your legs around his so he couldn’t kick out. You felt dangerous. You felt alive.
When you spoke, your voice was a vial of vitriol.
“You thought I’d just give into you? Three weeks of torture and you call it even? No fucking way, Snow. You wanted to play? Let’s play.”
You were closer to him now than you’d ever been before, infinitely closer than when you’d held hands in front of an audience, or danced in the middle of a ballroom, or when he’d draw you in for a lingering kiss at the head of a busy table.
You were closer still because of the common denominator: you were alone, your bodies pressed together, soft and firm colliding. And your stomach ached with want, but your rage burned brighter.
When you were sure he wouldn’t move, you readjusted your position on his lap so you were sat on one thigh, your right knee pressed firmly against the chair between his legs. Slowly, you dragged your hips against it, firm muscle between your legs, shameless as you stared him down.
“I’d like to modify the terms of our agreement, as of tonight. Starting with this: I’ve made sure your little whore won’t come running back here. If I so much as hear a whisper of a rumor that you’re fucking someone else, I’m leaving. Don’t think I don’t know how to disappear. I can, and I will.”
He scowled at you, and you’d never felt power like the rush you got from seeing your hand clamped over his mouth. His own hands, now easily able to overpower you and push yours away, instead sat at your hips, digging in so hard you knew there’d be bruises for weeks. As you moved, he started to follow suit, rocking your hips on his thigh faster.
He’s allowing this.
The realisation made you pull your hand from his mouth, and yet he didn’t speak. There was a tightness in his jaw, locked down so hard it must’ve hurt as he watched you move, helped you move. It sent a shock through your core, and you ground down harder.
Who’s on top now?
This was getting to your head.
“President Snow,” you mocked. “What a title. Thinks he can take whatever’s in his sight. Thinks he has the right. Did you think I’d come crawling back to you?” Your voice lowered.
“Did you think I’d get on my knees, like she did?” You glanced down, running your now-free hand over the front of his pants, gentle at first, then pressing in firm, and he hissed.
“Did you really think, after all your little shows, that I’d just submit? Not a chance.” You spat, and his breath turned a little shaky as your hand slid up, then down.
As it evened out, and he reached for composure again, he pulled a countermove. Got in close, with words so sharp, they nearly cut through you.
“Which one was your favorite?”
You pulled your hand away. Your hold on the back of his neck tightened, and in turn, so did his grip on your hips, pulling you down harder as you got closer, panties bunching up as you became desperate.
You shook your head.
“Don’t.”
He smirked.
“I gave you plenty to go off. Tell me, was it when I sat right here while she rode me? Or when I was fucking her mouth and calling your name?”
He pulled your hips in rougher, and you gasped, barely able to think. You were sure if he kept this up, your thighs would chafe. You just couldn’t find it in you to care.
“No, I don’t think so.” He hummed. “I know which one it was. It was the second time, wasn’t it? When I was making her cum all over my tongue, wondering what you tasted like.”
You couldn’t help it – a moan slipped out of your lips. He kept up the pace, rolling your hips faster, flexing his thigh as you started losing your bearings. He laughed at the state of you.
“I knew that one would get to you. Tell me something, princess, how many times did you touch yourself after that night wishing it was me? Or did you lose count?”
You gritted your teeth, fighting the spinning room.
“Cocky much?”
He let out a breathy laugh again, as if he was losing himself as much as you were. Pulling you in harder in response.
“Look at you,” he mused, “riding my thigh like the needy slut you are. Bet you’re close, too, and I haven’t even touched you yet.”
“Fuck.” you panted. “Stop fucking talking, oh my god.”
“You sure about that, sweetheart? You know I can feel how wet it’s making you, right?”
Your head dropped down and you whined. Sure enough, you’d soaked through your panties and dripped an embarrassing wet patch on his dress pants. You cursed under your breath as you slowed down.
“Beg me.” He ordered.
“No.” You gasped as he pulled you back again, faster, hips bucking as your legs started to shake around his.
“Beg me,” he repeated, "or I’ll stop.”
“Fuck, no, don’t fucking stop, I can’t-”
It was so much friction it hurt, but you kept chasing it.
“Yes, you can. You want to cum? Ask nicely, sweetheart. Just ask me.”
The seam of your panties got wetter as you moved, just enough to let the pain melt into pleasure instead as it caught on your clit, and you started to ride out your high. You were right at the edge, he was keeping you there, hair stuck to your face in a hot sweat as you writhed on his lap. So fucking close.
“Fine, shit. Please. Please help me cum, oh my god. Right there, please. Fuck.”
And maybe you were more like him than you thought, because you weren’t ashamed. You rode his thigh like you’d ride him, unabashedly, while he watched you starting to fall apart. He moved faster, pulled your hips hard in as if you were riding him, as if he could feel it, breath running ragged, desperate. It only brought you closer knowing this would be sending him over the edge, holding you so near and yet so awfully far away. The look in his eyes screaming danger, and you let it swallow you whole, squeezing his shoulders like you were scared you’d float away.
"That's it. Knew you'd sound incredible, asking me all pretty like that."
His lips met your neck, teeth grazing your skin and that’s what did it, your legs squeezing his as you shook through your orgasm, crying out, falling to pieces, hearing going fuzzy. The words good girl echoing through your head so distantly, you couldn’t tell if he’d really said them or not.
You sighed, glazed eyes rolling open, coming back to yourself. Your right hand was pressed against his chest, fingers curled into the creased fabric of his shirt. As you looked closer, you noticed it had opened wider, and he was missing a button. Had you done that?
When your eyes finally met Snow’s, you couldn’t look away from them. Beautiful and blue, like an ocean frozen over, staring into yours like you were all he’d ever wanted. You could get high off this feeling, live off it.
“Get on the bed.” He breathed. “Right fucking now.”
But too much of any feeling isn’t good for you.
“No.”
He glowered, face flushing even further, and as he leaned in to make another demand, you quickly stood, trying your hardest not to let your wobbling legs give you away.
“You should understand, Snow. We’re doing things my way now. And I’m going to be doing them as I please, when I please.”
You picked his jacket up from the floor, and slipped back into it, the soft fabric cooling down your burning skin.
“You think you’re funny, sweetheart? Nobody likes a fucking tease.”
You chuckled, doing up a button and brushing your hair out of your face, damp with sweat. You walked to the dresser and took a swig from Snow’s half-empty glass, then turned. He sat there, and it took everything in you not to smirk at the mess you’d made of him. You handed him the glass when you were done drinking and turned away. You felt him stand, but you didn’t acknowledge it, still fiddling with your hair, smoothing it out.
“You said it yourself, Snow. I’m no common whore. If you want me to beg you to fuck me, you’re gonna have to work for it.” You turned, pulling him in for a chaste kiss. His face was unreadable.
“But be a doll, leave your door unlocked.” You added, stepping back. “You never know when I might change my mind.”
“You’re not going to leave. You wouldn’t dare.” He seethed, the rage in his voice only propelling you on.
“Wouldn’t I?” You smiled, giving him a once over. Dropped your eyes down pointedly, first at the ruined leg you’d ridden, then at the uncomfortable-looking tent in his pants. You met his eye again and bit your lip, really laying it on thick. “Good luck with that, sweetheart. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
He huffed, incredulous, disbelief painted across his face as you made for the door, swinging it open. You glanced over your shoulder.
“Buckle up, Snow. I’m just getting started.”
You missed the way his shocked face turned almost admiring as he watched you leave, walking barefoot down the hallway, leaving the door wide open.
Checkmate.
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a/n: hope it was worth the wait 😌
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taojjang · 15 days ago
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𐙚 riize reactions: i want to marry you .ᐟ
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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ advent calendar, day twenty-two! pairing: fiance!riize x reader, genre: fluff! warnings: pure love <3
synopsis: there's no better time to confess your never-ending love for someone than the holidays!
note: we're on the final four! ty guys sm for enjoying the advent calendar series i appreciate it so so so much :( i hope you guys are looking forward to the holidays coming up!! this one is kinda longgg i was feeling a bit too romantic so i hope you have the time and patience for this
                     ⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧
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shotaro . . .
since the beginning of november, shotaro had planned a romantic getaway for the holidays. he booked the resort the second you agreed to his idea. from then until the day he drove you to the resort, he wouldn't stop talking about how excited he was. on christmas night, you finally realized why he was so excited.
taro knew you wanted to try ice skating. every time you'd open instagram, you'd watch reels about cute winter date ideas, and somehow ice skating was always a suggestion. you've been bugging taro to take you ice skating. the two of you got ready together in your fancy hotel room, taro letting you pick out your matching outfits. after you got all dolled up for the date, you were on your way to the skii resort.
taro held your hand as you entered the skii lift, reassuring you everything would be fun. but you were terrified. the lift seemed to be going way faster than you anticipated, causing your anxiety to palpitate in your chest. but once you entered the skii lift, your every thought was clouded by the breathtaking view ahead of you. but within seconds of reaching the mountain peak, you felt a tap on your shoulder. as you turned to face your boyfriend, your gaze was stolen by a glistening ring in taro's hand. your heart grew lighter as you looked down into taro's doting eyes.
"you've made every day of my life feel like a dream. would you let me live in your fairytale for the rest of our lives?"
the two of you held hands and explored the snowy mountain together, not being able to stop giggling as the idea of being with each other for the rest of your lives sank in.
eunseok . . .
eunseok is truly the most nurturing boyfriend you could ask for. no matter how busy or tired he is, he'd drop anything and come running to you the second you call his name. but with such a caring boyfriend comes so much nagging. eunseok is always complaining about how you spend too much money ordering food when he could just cook for you, or how you need to prioritize paying bills before buying new clothes. so of course it shocked you when he suddenly told you he was taking you to a tropical resort for christmas.
but of course, you couldn't complain. you were already envisioning so many cute things to do with eunseok on the vacation. you were a bit too excited, packing your things the same night although you had two more weeks until your flight. but it was all worth it. the resort he booked was absolutely stunning. you had your own little house on the beach and you bedroom had a window view of the deep turquoise waves.
the next few days, eunseok would take you on fancy tours of the island and luxurious dinner dates every night. you felt a bit emotional when things were coming to an end. the amount of beautiful memories you made with eunseok this week was all starting to overwhelm you. you felt like your love for him was at its capacity. seeing how sentimental you were, eunseok decided to lift your spirits by taking you on the final activity he had booked: a romantic ride on a yacht. it was absolutely lovely sitting beside eunseok with a glass of champagne in your hand. the wind breezed through your hair, refreshing every lingering thought in your mind. as you soaked in the tropical sun, eunseok called from behind you. "i think you'll like this view more." your heart stilled in your chest as you turned to eunseok, who was on one knee with the most stunning diamond ring you've ever seen
"you're the only person i'd wish to share the rest of my memories with. darling, will you marry me?"
sungchan . . .
every date with sungchan is typically organized by you. sungchan is quite clumsy and unorganized, so whenever he plans something it usually goes wrong. though you don't mind it and enjoy the thrill of how unpredictable his dates are, he's too insecure to plan dates. after all, sungchan wants the best for you.
but he knew you couldn't plan his proposal. he wanted it to be a complete surprise, which he succeeded in. you were shocked by how beautiful the house looked when you got home from spending time with your family for christmas. there was a romantic trail of rose petals leading you from the entrance to the dinner table, which was prettily decorated with fancy candles and flowers. though sungchan was such a klutz, you were proud of him for how luxurious he made the house.
everything was going as planned: he cooked up his best dish and it turned out delicious having you get up for seconds. you even complimented how well he planned out this date. to finish off the night, sungchan poured you a glass of pink champagne and served two slices of your favorite cake. the two of you were eating cake by the fireplace and sharing affectionate words with one another until suddenly, sungchan winced in pain and he covered his mouth with his hand. concerned and panicked, you put down your plate and leaned closer asking him what was wrong. you were surprised to see sungchan pull out a small object from his mouth. it was a diamond ring. you could see the embarrassment rise to his face as he looked down at the ring. "well, that wasn't supposed to be there..." as you realized what had just happened, you bursted out into laughter and took sungchan into your arms. "oh my gosh, sungchan, you're the cutest!" sungchan whined and threw his head into his hands crying, "it was going so well!" you smiled and left a doting kiss on sungchan's lips. "it's alright baby, now's your chance." sungchan sat up and cleared his throat, taking your hands into his and looking into your eyes.
"i know that was so stupid of me, but i promise to take you on countless more dates even better than this one. would you be my wife?"
wonbin . . .
wonbin loves home dates. whenever wonbin is in the mood to take you on a date, the destination is almost always his living room. something about the intimacy of being alone in such a comfortable space makes him so much sweeter than usual. but the christmas spirit makes wonbin even sweeter.
the two of you have a holiday tradition of going on a date to the annual christmas light festival at the nearby park. after walking around and taking cute pictures of every display, you would both find a seat in front of the frozen lake and share one early christmas gift.
but this year, wonbin forgot all about your gift. you stood in front of him with a blue gift bag in your hands, staring at him in disbelief as he stood empty-handed. you were furious. you'd been keeping up this tradition for five years, how could he forget? wonbin had even been bragging endlessly about how amazing your gift is, yet he conveniently forgot to bring it with him. you sat down on the bench and crossed your arms, not daring to look at him. all you could do was sulk as he cooed apologies. but your tough demeanor was soon cracked when wonbin sang, "listen baby, i can make it up to you, hm? look at me." finally giving in and turning to face him, your heart dropped to your stomach. wonbin got on one knee ahead of you, pulling out a small black velvet case from his pocket.
"you're the best gift i could ever receive. i'd never trade you for anything else in the world. will you marry me?"
seunghan . . .
seunghan spoils you rotten all throughout the year. you're having a hard day? dinner date! you just got a promotion? shopping spree! you gave him a few extra kisses that morning? flowers at your doorstep! after all, you're his entire world. what better way to show you that than giving you everything you could possibly ask for?
christmas is your favorite time of the year. you love going on all of the winter dates seunghan plans and enjoying the christmas spirit with him. but it gets a bit stressful sometimes. every day, there's at least two more gifts under the christmas tree despite not asking for a single thing this year. since seunghan spends so much money on you, you told him not to fret about christmas gifts this year and to focus on his family and friends. but its obvious those words didn't stick with him. by the time christmas eve came, more than half of the gifts under the tree were for you. you went to bed that night excited to open all of the gifts he'd gotten for you.
but you woke up to a christmas tree with no gifts beneath it. the tree skirt was bare with no boxes in sight. instead, four bouquets of flowers were sitting where the gifts usually were. confused, you called for seunghan in hopes he could explain what happened. but he never answered. as you investigated further, you noticed a single gift sitting on the branches of the tree. your eyes welled with tears as it revealed a silver ring with a stunning blue diamond. you turned around to see seunghan standing at the doorway with all of your gifts and another bouquet.
"what do you say, angel? would you take my hand in marriage?"
sohee . . .
as much as sohee loves you, it's rare for him to express said love through physical touch. here and there, he'd hold your hand as you walk beside each other or he'd brush your hair behind your ear when you're resting against his shoulder. but typically, he struggles to openly express his affection.
so of course you suspected something was off when he awkwardly held your hand for days straight. since the day before christmas eve, sohee's been so much more cuddly than you're used to. after spending the holidays together for the nth time, he wouldn't leave your side. he was practically clinging onto you from the moment he woke up to the moment he fell asleep in your arms. though you loved every second of it, you began to worry.
to end off christmas day on a cozy note, you put on your coziest sweater and got comfortable in front of the fireplace. not even a few seconds later, sohee hesitantly sat beside you, linking his arm around yours and resting against your shoulder. you pulled the blanket over the two of you and looked down at the clingy boy beside you. resting your hand on his cheek and stroking his soft skin, you asked out of pure concern, "sohee baby, is something wrong? is there something from your christmas list that i missed?" sohee chuckled and shook his head, snuggling closer to you. "what? of course not. i just... have a lot on my mind." even the slightest pout on sohee's face caused you immense discomfort and pain. you couldn't stand hearing he was stressed. "tell me about it, what's upsetting you?" sohee took a few seconds to simply breathe and take in your presence. swallowing back all of his fear, he looked up at you and let everything fall from his lips. "i think... i think i wanna marry you." your heart stood completely still. not a single breath escaped your lips. it was as if your entire world had froze. your love for sohee began overflowing in the form of tears.
"i've never felt so much love for someone as long as i've lived. i want to marry you, y/n."
anton . . .
christmas is always so serious for anton. he does not play when it comes to the holiday festivities. from november 1st all the way through january 31st, your house is full of the prettiest christmas decorations and even gifts. anton buys tons and tons of gifts for you that could last even past christmas. all year round, he takes notes on what items you express a desire for and he brings home all of those gifts on christmas. he just wants nothing but the best for you.
you're far too precious to anton. everything you do makes him feel so overwhelmingly in love with you. no matter how cranky you are, anton will always spoil you with snacks and affection every night. so of course he goes above and beyond for christmas, seizing the opportunity to spoil you rotten.
but you didn't expect there to be this many presents under the tree. you shook your head in both disbelief and astonishment. after eating a fancy breakfast anton had prepared, he urged you to open all of your gifts. you were more than touched to see all of the things you've mentioned to him sitting under the tree. from new clothes to fancy jewelry, anton covered everything you wished for. just when you thought things couldn't get any better, you opened the final box. inside lied a white teddy bear and a pink book sitting beneath it. you wound emotional flipping through the pages and seeing all of the prettiest photos he's taken with you, from the lowest times to the happiest memories you could recall. lying in the center of the last page was a gift you've been waiting for since the moment you met anton. it was a promise ring. looking up at anton with love flowing down your cheeks, you couldn't help but cry out of pure happiness.
"the happiest moments of my life were spent with you, y/n, and i want nothing more than to make even more with you. may i be your husband?"
                     ⋆ ˚ ۪ ⋆ ୨୧
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writtenbymoonflower · 7 months ago
Note
Hiyaa!! i LOVE!!! your poly!maraduers x reader fics. i was wondering if you could make a fic where the reader has had an absolute horrid week and just got their period and our sweet boys comfort us bc of how good boyfriends they are 🥹🙏
-🌻
thanks for requesting! I hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders
cw: period cramps/symptoms, hurt/comfort
1k words
Your eyes were pinched tightly as you clutched your stomach, easing and tightening your hold as the pain ebbed and flowed. You had been feeling crummy all week with no explanation until you were getting ready to take a shower last night and saw the red rorschach stains on your thighs. Thankfully, you hadn’t bled on anything, but you still took extra care to check everywhere you had been sitting. After your panic had subsided, the previous few days had made sense. There had been a grating brick in the bottom of your stomach and a slimy feeling you couldn’t scrub from your skin. Either in addition to or because of these physical feelings, you had been particularly fragile. Your boyfriends had noticed your state, but you never confessed your emotions since there was no clear source, at least, until now. 
You were curled into yourself on the couch, as if the more condensed you were the less pain you would feel. You were nauseous to the point of not being able to stomach pain medicine. You had showered last night but still felt disgustingly greasy. There was a book open on the arm of the couch that you had been pretending to read, but eventually had no energy to continue. Remus was in the armchair next to you with his own book, while James mindlessly flicked through the television channels and Sirius sat in front of the coffee table with an array of snacks before him. They were leaving you mostly alone, probably assuming you were trying to sleep. Another cramp fizzed through your body and you winced, a small whimper escaping. Nearly silent, but Remus’ sharp hearing picked it up. He looked at you, clearly expecting some kind of obvious injury. 
“What’s wrong, dovey?” He looked like he was in pain himself. Remus was all too familiar with pain, but the idea of any of his loved ones hurting was enough to cause instant panic within him. 
“Nothing, I’m fine-” You almost had the sentence out when another cramp hit, making you screw your face up and inhale sharply. Sirius spun around at your reaction. You curled in on yourself further, tensing your stomach. 
“What’s going on with you?” Sirius had his rare no-nonsense tone. When you didn’t give a response he tried to pry your arms away from your torso, but you whined and scooted away. 
“I said it’s nothing.” You wanted to snap but you sounded too pitiful to have your desired effect.
“Hey. I’m not fucking around.” Sirius kept trying to inspect you, his brain clearly already at the worst case scenario. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“Pads, calm down.” James scolded before turning his attention to you. “Let us help you, sweetheart.” He coaxed. You huffed, abandoning your hopes of being modest. 
“It’s really nothing serious. Just some uh, cramping. From… you know.” You tried to smile. The boys confused, and then quickly relieved but they still didn’t go back for their previous activities like you hoped they would.
“Why didn’t you just say that?” Sirius slumped. “I thought you had fucking appendicitis or something.” 
“I think if I had appendicitis it would be a lot worse.”
“I don’t know, lovely girl.” Remus reached over both the arms of his chair and the couch to pet your head. “It looks like you’re hurting pretty badly.” He cooed a sad sound when you winced in pain again. 
“Have you taken anything?” James stood up, already heading to the bathroom medicine cabinet. 
“Not yet.” You said, feeling Remus’ wordless chiding. You could already hear what he wanted to say. ‘You have to get ahead of the pain, dovey.’ You took the pill bottle from James. 
“Have you eaten yet? You can’t take those on an empty stomach.” Remus reminded you. You sighed again, not from cramps this time. 
“No.” You said shamefully. Now you were being judged by the other two boys. 
“Baby,” James groaned, walking towards the kitchen now. Sirius was already shoving a package of mini muffins towards you. “Why?”
“My stomach hurt too much. I couldn’t get up.” You pouted, slowly chewing a muffin. 
“That was when you should’ve asked one of us.” Remus’ gentle bossy tone came out, the way it does when he’s feeling especially protective. 
“I would’ve been fine.” You reasoned. “I get this every month, it’s nothing out of the norm.” 
“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. Do you think it doesn’t hurt for Remus every month?” Sirius had a charcoal-drawn brow raised. 
“That’s different!” You floundered. “Of course it hurts for him.” You got instantly emotional. “I wasn’t saying that.” 
“Pads,” Remus huffed before turning back to you. “I know you weren’t. But you see the point. It still hurts for you.” 
“ And we still wanna look after you.” James appeared with a glass of water and a hot water bottle for your stomach. You took the medicine while he fixed the heat over your abdomen. When he was done he leaned down to kiss your forehead. 
“Thank you.” You mumbled. 
“Don’t thank me, darling.” He said, stroking your hair from your face. You jumped again when Sirius climbed on top of you without warning. 
“Siri! What are you doing?” You squealed as he settled his face into your neck.
“Lovin’ on you.” He said as it was the obvious answer.
“I’m disgusting right now.” You groaned, pushing his shoulders to shove him off. He just dead weighted and pulled you in closer. 
“Not possible, you’re mine.” He argued. James scoffed. 
“Oi! Not just yours!” James shoved Sirius away so he could kiss all over your scrunched face. You all but shrieked before he stopped, turning his attention to the TV remote. Sirius turned the two of you so you were on your sides, your back to his front facing the television. His hand was holding the hot water bottle to your stomach. Remus closed his book and laid on his side. His tall frame was folded in a way that was probably aching, but he still held it. He settled his head on the arm of his chair, nearly touching yours and Sirius’. 
“Are you feeling better, sweet thing?” Sirius asked quietly. 
“I do. Thank you.” You sounded awfully sleepy. 
“Wow. You two just shamelessly took advantage of the situation to turn us into the napping house.” James was trying to sound scolding but it just came out as affection. 
“It’s called being supportive, Prongs.” Sirius sassed, but you and Remus were already out. 
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distantdarlings · 1 year ago
Text
PARTING THE SILENCE // t. nott
RATING: R / 2.9K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (no gender-specific details)
+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* Theo plans a special evening for the two of you on the night of your anniversary.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Virgin!Reader, Dom!Theo, Gender-Neutral Reader, losing virginity, language, piv - no protection, fingering (lmk if I missed any)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
HEAVEN - Isabel LaRosa
(Quick note: This is not entirely proof-read and was originally written with a fem reader before I realized the gender is not specified in the request. I tried to rewrite w/ a gender-neutral reader, but if I've missed something, please let me know! Thanks!)
---
Your foot tapped impatiently against the leg of your desk as you anxiously awaited the end of class. Your eyes glanced around aimlessly, attempting to catch a glimpse of the sun. Perhaps you’d be able to get an idea of what time it was. 
“Okay, that is the end of my lecture for today!” Professor Flitwick announced. With a flick of his wand, dozens of textbooks flew toward the students. They were small and very old with cracked bindings, but they held the class’ homework for the rest of the week. 
Once you selected yours and shoved it into your bag, you were practically already out the door. Your boyfriend, Theo Nott, had promised a romantic evening for your anniversary, and you weren’t planning on being late.
You shouldered your bag and exited the Charms classroom with your dormitory in mind. Every other student that was trying to get to the Great Hall or to Hogsmeade crossed the halls, making it near impossible for you to wiggle through each one. It was like an ocean constantly pushing against you. 
Past staircases and groups of students, you’d finally managed to get back to your house's common room. You ignored the growl in your stomach as the scent from the kitchens wafted through the hair. Surely, they’d had nothing but distraction in mind when they put the Hufflepuffs right next to the kitchens. You rolled your eyes. 
You didn’t need to eat anything right now. Theo had planned dinner just for you, and you wanted to be able to eat as much as you could if it. You didn’t want to show up to your date full. 
You spoke the password and whisked through the hallway into the common room. Its yellowed walls reflected the setting Sun outside, casting a peaceful, golden glow onto everything. It was nearly empty, but you knew that wouldn’t be the case forever. Since it was a Friday night, everybody had plans, and they’d be rushing back to their dorms soon enough.
You jogged the rest of the way to your dormitory and let the door fall shut behind you. Only a few of your dorm mates were scattered around the room, doing homework, tidying up, and whatever else. They all gave you a small wave or nod as you walked by, to which you politely returned.
You had no time to talk at the moment. You had to get ready. Due to the likely possibility that you’d be late, you’d already laid out an outfit. Theo always had the mind to plan ahead and have everything ready perfectly on top. Your issues with punctuality tended to put you both behind, though. So, today, you tried to think forward.
Dropping your things, you grabbed the outfit and headed to the joint bathroom. Though it was simple, it was fancy enough to be suited for a nice dinner and casual enough for a picnic. You could never prepare for the wild dates Theo planned. 
You slipped the clothing on and readied yourself in the bathroom mirror, splashing a bit of water on your face and messing up your hair. Though you didn’t look half as well as you wanted to, it would work for tonight. 
Turning on your heels, you made your way out of the bathroom and back through the common room as quickly as you could. The hallways of Hogwarts were closer to empty now that classes had been out for a while, making it much easier to find your way to your destination. 
The sky outside was blackening quite rapidly due to the wintry month the castle was currently submerged in. With a shudder of nerves at the thought of having to walk in the dark by yourself, you picked up your pace a bit. The air around you was chilled and swirling, urging you to wrap your jackets tighter around you. 
Theo had told you to meet him by the Black Lake on the side opposite the castle. You weren’t sure if he had planned to do something there and then go out to eat or… A deep sigh left you. You were definitely overthinking this. No matter how long you’d been with Theo, you always became extremely nervous before any of your dates. Due to your house of origin, you constantly felt as though you weren’t good enough to be with Theo. It wasn’t as though any of his friends made you feel that way. It was other people in Slytherin house and even some in Hufflepuff. It was an unnerving feeling that led you to believe they were right, even though Theo picked you. 
You came up to the edge of the Black Lake. The quickly approaching starlight above began to reflect in the dark waters. Halfway across the way, you could see a small lantern pressed up against one of the trees lining the banks. A wide smile spread across your face, urging you toward that dim glow. Swallowing your anxiety, you began to skirt the edge of the lake until you came upon Theo, who seemed to be admiring his work.
Before him was a dark green quilt, weighed down with two large, woven baskets, the lantern, and what looked like his school bag. You suppressed a smile and snuck up behind him, intending to surprise him. 
You eased up behind him, feet as quiet as possible, and sucked in a breath—
“Rah!” Theo turned and shouted, grabbing at your sides. You shrieked at the sudden shock, having no time to react before his fingers started attacking your ribs. Panicked giggles swirled throughout the air as he tickled you relentlessly, his eyes mean and teasing. 
“No, no, no! Please, stop!” you screamed through forced giggles. You kicked and wiggled to try and separate yourself from him, but his hold—as always—was much too strong for you to escape from. He used the size difference between the two of you much too often. “Theo!”
When he finally stopped tickling you, he pushed you back slightly to avoid your next move, which was all too predictable. As soon as he had separated himself from you, you began to swing your arms at him, trying to get a good hit to his arms. 
“You jerk! I’ve told you not to do that!” you shouted, smacking at his clothed arms. 
“You were trying to surprise me!” he defended himself, trying to push you away from him.
“I don’t care!” He grabbed a hold of you suddenly, pulling your body close to his, his strong arms wrapped snugly around you. The two of you attempted to contain giggles at the feeling of being so close to one another. The chilled air cooled your lungs and fanned across your chest. Despite the temperature around you, Theo’s body against yours was as warm as it needed to be. The weather barely had any effect on you when he held you. He was like your own personal heater. 
“Oh, I missed you, darling,” he groaned lovingly into your ear, his lips tickling the flesh of your neck. The vibration of his words and the feeling of his breath on you sent a shiver through your body. You gasped slightly at the sensation, clinging tighter to his arms. 
“You cold?” he asked. 
“No.”
“Why’d you shiver?”
“Because you make me a little nervous,” you giggled awkwardly. His arms loosened around you almost instantly. His eyes found yours, a deep concern shoved into them. Your nervous smile dropped slightly at his expression. Was he upset?
“I make you nervous?” he asked. “What did I do? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Was it the way I held you?”
You nearly melted at how worried he seemed to be with your comfort. Never before had you met a boy so serious about how you felt. Being with Theo felt like always being taken care of, always being thought of, and never being forgotten. It never failed that—no matter what the issue was—Theo was there and ready to fix it. Whether it was his hands, his lips, his words… Whatever it need be, he had it waiting for you. You loved him endlessly for it. 
“No, darling,” you laughed. “You make me nervous … in, uh, a good way.” His eyebrows quirked, and a small smirk began to spread across his lips. 
“Nervous in a good way, huh? Can you explain that to me a little bit?” he asked slyly as he inched back toward you. Once he was behind you, he wrapped himself around you again, allowing his face to press back into your neck. You could feel his breath against your skin; each inhale and exhale made your heart rattle in your chest. One hand that was tightened around your stomach loosened itself and slid upwards. His fingers softly slid around your neck, never tightening, just placed there. It was so domineering, yet soft, that it had you gulping.
 “L-like when you do that,” you sighed, cursing yourself for stuttering. 
“When I do what?” he asked. His free hand moved gently against your stomach, gently tracing curves and dips, claiming your body so easily. 
“When you touch me,” you whispered. At some point, your head had begun to lean back against his strong shoulder. If not for him holding you up, you were unsure if you’d still be standing. 
The two of you had only done a few things together since you started dating. Of course, you’d kissed and petted a bit, but the two of you hadn’t gotten…there yet. The thought of it started your heart beating wildly in your chest, with no regard for your pride, as Theo’s hand was still splayed against your thorax. 
“I could touch you more if you’d like,” he suggested. The fact that he’d presented the question like an option rather than a definite made the experience feel all the more pleasurable. He so obviously cared about how you felt, and that made you want him even more. 
“Outside, Teddy?” you breathed nervously, your chest rising and falling heavily beneath the fall of his hand. Every breath and every touch against you had your mind racing.
“It’s dark, and no one else is out here,” he mumbled against the skin behind your ear. His lips caressed the shell of it every few moments.
“It’s cold…I don’t know if we should.” You wanted to. You really did, but you were trying to reason with him a bit. In his defense, your plan was to come out here and have a romantic anniversary…but now all you could think about was what lay beneath his knit sweater. 
His free hand trailed around your waist and skirted your core through the fabric of your bottoms. A shuddering gasp left your lips ever so quietly, the sound slicing through the icy silence.
“Does that feel good, baby?” he whispered against your ear. The tip of his nose traced along the line of your shoulder, traveling lower and lower until he pressed a sensual open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder. Your heart was pounding, your breaths leaving you in desperate pants. 
“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly. You could practically feel him smirk against you as he gently pulled you backward to the beautiful picnic he’d set up.
With a small shove, he’d moved the prepared baskets off of the quilt and laid you softly on the ground. The earth beneath the blanket was soft and even, and the boy above you was strong and rough. The contrast had your pupils blown wide in pleasure. 
Once above you, he hovered easily, his lips running slow, personal kisses along your jawline and neck. Your head tilted back against the ground to allow him as much access to you as possible. You didn’t want anything coming between the two of you.
“Darling, please,” he breathed against your skin, “…want you now…” 
His lips hovered just over your chest where your shirt split down the middle. They were parted and swollen and wanting as he brushed them along your flesh, impatiently waiting on your consent.
“Yes, please,” you whined out, clutching his curls within your fingers. 
It took less than a second for him to begin to undo your bottoms, his hands gentle yet swift. Once the task was completed, he did the same with himself. He removed his belt and dropped it to the ground next to him, the leather slapping against itself with a loud crack. At the sound, you could feel heat broiling in your core…you figured that was an experiment for another day, though.
Theo undid his pants and pushed himself over the top of his briefs so he was still covered from the back. At the sight of his perfectly reddened dick, you could feel your body clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside you. 
Theo caressed gentle fingers up and down your core with one hand while the other collected a bit of spit from his mouth. He let it fall down between your legs and trace circles around your entrance, spreading the slick all around. At the feeling, your back arched toward him. Your lips parted in a silent scream. You’d never done this before, so you were bound to be as tight as possible, but you didn’t care. The nerves of your first time with Theo were very quickly overpowered by the raging lust pushing through your body.
He found your eyes and, with a soft nod, slowly slid his finger within you. It was a stretch—one that put your fingers to shame. You grasped at anything—the dirt, the grass, Theo’s back. He was sending you into space and keeping you grounded all at the same time. His finger slowly worked you open with genuine care until he was able to add more. He was preparing you for himself, but you could barely reach the third finger. 
“Ugh, slow, baby, please,” you whined. 
“I’m sorry, darling,” he whispered. “Too much?”
You nodded pitifully, your fingers grasping at the quilt and the grass beneath. His hands slowed and eased you closer and closer to your finish before carefully removing all of his fingers from you. You groaned at the sensation and the sudden emptiness. 
“Why’d you stop, Teddy?” you moaned. You stared up at him, your bottom lip jutting out slightly in a slight pout. He clicked his tongue and placed a dominating hand on your jaw. The size of his hand dwarfed your face as his thumb traced the length of your lip. 
“Because I want to give you more, baby,” he cooed. “I want to feel you wrapped around me.” 
You sucked in a shuddering breath as he balanced himself on his knees. He agonizingly slid himself over your entrance, the tip tracing you meanly. Your lips parted at the sensation, anticipating the stretch and fullness.
“I’m gonna move, sweetheart,” he moaned, his hands gripping your bare thighs tightly. You nodded in response to his guidance and braced yourself against him.
As he pushed in, the stretch was a strong yet delicious burn. The slick around your entrance was enough to allow him to slide in quickly, yet he took his time, allowing you to grow around him. Once he’d filled you up to the base, he groaned lightly, waiting patiently for the go-ahead to move.
Once you settled around him, you nodded eagerly. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers tightening into your flesh. Your lips parted at the motion. He ever so slowly began to move in and out of you, each stroke caressing some unknown spot deep within you. 
“Fuck, Teddy,” you whispered, “I don’t know how long I can last.”
“Go as long as you can for me, baby…just want to feel you around me,” he grunted out. You glanced up through hissed lids to observe his gorgeous face and the fucked out impression painted on it.
The sweat dripped down the side of his face, trailing over his jawline and tracing his strong neck. His lips were swollen and parted delicately, with whispers of moans slipping through. His eyes were shut loosely. With every particularly deep thrust, you’d clench around him, and his eyelids would part, showcasing his sea-misted eyes rolling back as far as they’d go.
The sight of his pleasure was enough to push you over the edge into an ocean of ecstasy. You came hard around him, the last remains of your virtue spilling down between your thighs. Your back arched, your legs shook around him, your fingers gripped at nothing.
The feeling of your orgasm slammed into his chest. He cried out pitifully, a melodious whine parting the silence as the evidence of his finish coated your insides.
With a deep exhale, he eased himself out of you and collapsed beside you. You laughed breathlessly, the aftershocks of your orgasm flowing through you like a wave.
With a lazy smile on his face, he leaned forward and reached over you. He lifted the lid of one of the baskets and pulled an extra folded quilt out. You laughed aloud at his preparedness.
“Knew you were gonna get fucked, is that it?” you teased.
“Actually, I figured we’d stargaze,” he admitted, sheepishly tossing the blanket over your bodies. “I brought it in case we got cold.”
“You’re adorable, Teddy,” you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face couldn’t hide the love he was feeling for you.
He passed around the perfectly preserved food and pumpkin juice, ensuring you got a taste of each sweet and snack he’d brought along. 
He then wrapped himself around you and reminded you ten times over why you’d fallen in love with him.
*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @angelfrombeneth, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil (if you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)
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