#i just can’t wait for this show to be everything it feels so fresh and exciting and interesting

[writerpeach]

Extracurricular Activititties

aespa Karina x m!reader

16k words

Part Two of Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

“Nothing like a little fresh air to start the day off, right, sweetie?” 

You can’t say you agree. 

But Karina has a certain way of convincing you to go for an early morning jog when she shows up in the kitchen—wearing a pair of tight leggings that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, along with a skimpy tank top, gray and low-cut, no bra underneath, that insane chest the center of attention. 

The exact word she uses is jog, but it’s a brisk walk at best, given you're far too out of shape for anything more. You're not even sure that exercise is the goal here—when every step she takes is a chance for her breasts to jiggle underneath this skimpy, poor excuse for athletic attire and claim your attention. 

Not to mention it's cold—not quite freezing, but not the ideal jogging weather, and you swear she's doing this just to rile you all up. Especially when her nipples are practically poking straight through the thin fabric which has you straining to keep your eyes from wandering too much.

There aren’t many bodies out this early when the weather gets like this, but that doesn't mean Karina isn't the center of attention even from a distance. Her face alone gets people staring, and you know firsthand how difficult it is to keep your eyes from drifting down to those ridiculous tits and that useless stretched-out piece of fabric that hardly conceals her bouncing chest. 

The entire walk feels borderline torturous when all you can think about is what's waiting underneath those clothes, so you look away at anything you can find—leaves falling from a tree, a bird flying, the license plate of a parked car you try to memorize. 

Nothing seems to help. 

"You're staring, sweetie."

"Me? No clue what you're talking about," you lie, avoiding her alluring eyes altogether when she glances back with a knowing little smirk. 

"Yeah, you are. My ass, maybe? Enjoying the view?” Karina asks, as if she isn't fully aware of all the attention she's gotten with her top hanging loose, nipples nearly exposed, looking like sin itself. 

"It's hard to not notice how pretty you are, Karina," you reply. She giggles and bumps her hip into you, nearly sending you flying. 

"Am I distracting you, sweetheart?" she asks with this faux innocent tone, because the smile she wears can't mask her intent—

"Something like that," you mumble in response.

"Well, someone’s not subtle. It's almost too cute, seeing how hard you try to not stare at my tits."

"Can you really blame me? They're practically spilling out."

"Oh, are they? Haven’t even noticed,” she says, cupping them through the loose top, as if wanting to push her nipples through the fabric to further tantalize. "Or maybe that's the point—to see how flustered you'd get, trying to keep your eyes away. Guess I didn't overestimate your weakness."

"You're insane. It's freezing out here."

"Me, insane? Maybe—for your dick."

You're more than a little embarrassed to hear such blunt words coming from Karina's sweet lips in the open, as if there’s no chance that others can't hear everything as they walk past.

But Karina just laughs, so carefree, not having any concerns as she turns around and jogs backwards, forcing you to look directly at those bouncing tits and the hypnotizing bounce they create with every step. "I'm just trying to get the blood flowing. You think I actually wanted to go out for a run? I don't even own a sports bra, sweetie. I get more than enough exercise from you railing me every day."

The embarrassment worsens to hear her talk like this, but the blush creeping on your face goes unnoticed as you both head back home. It takes a short time before you're pushing the front door wide open, walking inside from a brisk, chilly breeze to the comfortable warmth of the shared apartment.

And suddenly your back is flat up against the door before you have the chance to kick your shoes off. "What are you—"

"Hush." One word is all Karina has to tell you, silencing any incoming words from your lips as she pins you against the wooden surface, grabbing an unexpected handful of your cock right through your sweatpants. "Seems like it worked after all—seeing how hard you've gotten just by looking at my chest. Feels like you're fucking throbbing, sweetheart.” 

"Fucking hell—" The groan slips out when Karina squeezes your cock through the fabric, leaving you helpless to her will as she presses forward, pinning you further. You don’t say another word while her lips claim your neck, her tongue swiping across the sensitive skin. 

"What are you gonna do with this big cock, I wonder? Hard as a fucking rock, and we haven't even done a thing."

"What else do you think? You're gonna let me fuck those big tits of yours."

Karina beams with satisfaction and slips a hand inside your pants, getting a better grip to fully feel the arousal of your length that aches in her fingers. "Good choice."

Those pretty lips find a place against your own and press deep, holding you there to trap you, one hand stroking your length, giving soft, constant pumps to make sure you're every bit as hard as can be. Karina isn't planning on teasing, not when she can get you nice and ready while the taste of her lips lingers. "Getting so worked up, aren't you, sweetheart? You’re so sensitive—so fucking hard."

"All thanks to your help." You get a cute laugh out of her from that as she drags you towards the living room, eager to speed things along. Your head is spinning, cock aching for more while she stops in the middle of the room with a smile across her angelic face.

"Be a good boy and sit." 

Following her orders, you kick your shoes off and throw them aside, taking a seat on the couch. "I'm not a dog, Rina."

"Never said you were," she replies, peeling her tank top off over her head, until those huge, heavy tits bounce free that you know so well. Nothing could steal your gaze away from this perfection, the way her chest jiggles from the slightest movement, mesmerizing to look at. "You're more like a cute, needy little puppy."

You'd be annoyed at her little remark, if not for the stunning view as she takes a seat on your lap, topless, straddling you. And once you have those massive breasts right in front of your face, inches away, all the irritation is easily ignored. 

All else is forgotten, your hands moving automatically to reach up and cup them. They're soft, with a satisfying weight that makes her give a little chuckle when you fondle them. "You always act like it's the first time you're seeing them."

"Feels that way," you answer, squeezing a good, generous handful, enjoying the warmth, the heaviness pressing against your palm. It's fucking heaven, and then some, the sensation of your fingers sinking into that heavenly flesh, those stiffening nipples begging for attention. “Your tits are so amazing, Rina. So goddamn big—so perfect.” 

The praise does something to her. You can see it in her flushed cheeks and a hint of a shy grin forming. A rare sight, coming from Karina, who always acts so damn confident all the time. 

She watches you closely, enjoying the attention you lavish her bare breasts with, how you squeeze them together, massage them and just play with her chest as you like. 

"It's really that easy to shut you up, isn't it?" Karina can barely finish before those words dissolve into nothing but a small gasp once your fingers pinch and tug her sensitive nipples, watching in pleasure how stiff they get. And there's no denying the addiction you've picked up, this utter obsession to bury your cock deep between those beautiful milky tits until you can't handle anymore, shooting such massive streaks of thick cum that look so good all over her.

Her mouth falls wide open at your not-so-gentle touch, every sharp tug of stiff buds eliciting a moan. Just the sight of her drives you wild—her supple breasts look fucking delicious, nipples so sensitive and responsive, and you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of them as the weight rests in your palms. 

"Come on, don't stop there." Karina pleads in your ear, encouraging you to keep it going, these violent squeezes she's all too receptive to on the daily. "You look so hungry for these fucking tits. Go ahead, suck on them, sweetie. I know you're dying to." 

Leaning back, Karina lets you have what's rightfully yours, with a proud expression etched on her face while you have your way. The angle is perfect for a messy trail of kisses that move across her pale, creamy flesh, tracing a blue vein along the way, tasting the beads of sweat forming on her delicious chest. 

It's the start of something even better—a greedy path that travels all across until your mouth finally finds its proper place, sealing right onto one of those stiff nipples, giving a lewd slurp that makes Karina react with a pleasant gasp.

"Mm, fuck—such a good boy," she coos in your ear while you devour her chest, teasing the perfect buds that get so excited in response to all this attention. Her hand rests on the back of your head, stroking your hair gently as your mouth remains locked on a breast. Karina just watches you work, attentively studying the way your teeth nibble, how hungrily you suckle, how utterly depraved you must look. 

"God, Karina, your tits, these perfect fucking tits—" 

The words slip out almost against your own volition before you latch onto her other nipple and give the same treatment, equally desperate, suckling until saliva drips down the corner of your mouth, her encouraging whimpers everything that fuels your arousal. 

“There you go, suck on those tits, they’re all yours,” Karina says, voice a bit shaky while your ravenous mouth gives a gentle nibble around the hardened nub between your lips. "Make sure you take care of them both, sweetheart.”

And honestly, how could you not—

Letting them both slide between your lips, such lewd noises come out of your mouth when switching between them, an absolute feast that has no end. Nothing could stop you from doing this for hours, forever even, this delicious fucking pair the best meal you’ve ever had, with these pretty nipples doused in spit, all slippery. But there’s only one thing better than your mouth all over—and Karina knows exactly what. 

"You about ready to get that cock between them?" she asks while you suck and slurp so frantically, but you’re unable to answer with your mouth so full of her heavy tits, devouring them like you’re starved. And once you do finally let them drop, she uses the weight to smother you, a moment you're happy to lose yourself in, pinned there with your face buried in her cleavage.

This is as good as it gets, you think, when all you can see is pale flesh covering your vision, just silently pleading for Karina to suffocate you with those plentiful breasts. It’s a moment that lasts far less than you’d like, only to see that expression on her face as she regretfully lets you come up for air. 

"Do you even have to ask? Rina, please—I need to fuck these tits so bad. I’ve never been more ready.” 

The answer leaves her so smug when she slips herself out of your lap, the rest of your clothes tugged away in a flash. Karina is already down on her knees without a single thought, chest level at the perfect height when she sits back on her heels. That sultry look on her face is to die for, big tits jutting out, full and swollen, mouth-watering as can be.

"Do you want me to blow you first? Or do you want these tits instead?"

"Karina, baby—" you groan at how she toys with you, squeezing the sensitive head with a devious smirk written all over her sinful features. "Your tits. Your beautiful tits, that's all I fucking want."

She giggles at that and runs the swollen head of your cock all over her breasts, slapping it against the jiggly flesh, before ending with a light little graze over a hardened nipple while you get more and more restless. But Karina lets your desperation sink in, staying patient herself as those pretty eyes gaze at your reaction, drinking in the look on your face—

"Hand me the bottle in the side table. The one with strawberries on it," she requests. You’re a bit confused at first, but go ahead and reach out across the cushions to open the drawer, digging out what she asks for—something you didn’t even know existed. 

It's this small bottle of clear liquid with tiny red strawberry shapes all over the label, and it doesn't take a genius to understand what this is for.

Karina flips open the cap, leaning in, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Without a word, she tilts the bottle, pouring the oil all over her chest in agonizingly slow drizzles, filling the room up with the scent of strawberries. It's nothing but erotic; a daze falling over you while she shifts to get comfortable—on her knees, back straight, making sure those huge breasts look as enticing as possible while she watches in amusement. 

Once that abundant chest has gotten the attention and coverage needed, she pours out more into her palms, her delicate hands all slippery when she strokes your aching shaft. 

"Yizhuo bought this one for me, I think, for my last birthday. Told me it would smell nice. But she has no idea what I've been saving it for..."

"Lucky me.” 

“Lucky, lucky you,” Karina repeats, emphasizing it by shaking her chest, the delicious jiggle so hypnotic, and the sheen created by the strawberry-scented liquid sets your desires ablaze. It has your cock hardening impossibly so, and you can only imagine how this will feel, given how soft they are to begin with, now all slick and slippery.

One more drizzle for good measure, right down the valley between her heavy breasts, and the anticipation alone is killing you. “There we go. Now let's have some fun.” 

Before you have the chance to reply, Karina takes your cock, stiff as could be, trapping it between her slippery breasts, nestled right within her cleavage. A sharp groan is all it takes to register the amazing feeling—sinking right into the pillowy softness. 

And Karina indulges, sliding the weight of those oily tits along your shaft, giving all this delicious friction you've been yearning for. 

“Shit—feels so good,” you groan as those heavy tits work their way down your shaft. They swallow every last inch, disappearing entirely through that slippery cleavage, this relentless slide up and down that has you reeling.

“Good, because they look perfect around your huge cock."

Karina says little more, her large breasts doing the talking as she squeezes them tighter, the slickness making all the friction between them even easier for your cock to glide through. You're left fucking breathless at how her tits completely engulf, and how your shaft disappears, all covered in massage oil, glistening every time it reappears. 

The deepening pressure does wonders for your aching cock, and the stimulation is unreal—Karina’s full lips form into a pretty smile while she grinds her chest, finding the utmost satisfaction in seeing you lose it. 

"Sweetie," Karina purrs, looking so pleased. Your breaths are shallow, and she pays no mind, focused fully on squeezing your dick so firmly between those soft, bouncy breasts. "Tell me. Tell me how this feels."

"So fucking good, Rina—never felt anything like it. Your huge fucking tits are driving me crazy." You lean back, cock sandwiched between her full chest, and just let out these desperate groans as you drown in lust. 

All without having to do a thing but sit and enjoy the view of your favorite place to be. 

Karina revels in how crazy she drives you, and there's little point in hiding it—your face says it all. You can hardly get anything out that isn’t a loud grunt or groan.

"How long can you last, sweetie? You’re throbbing like crazy,” she teases, and it’s less a question, more of a challenge—either way, you have no chance here, fighting the pleasure rising, boiling inside. And Karina knows, she can see the weakness all over, a smugness present when she pushes those mounds tighter together, not daring to let your leaking shaft escape.

"Fuck," you curse, bucking your hips almost involuntarily, losing yourself in the warmth of her breasts, overwhelmed with how slick and fucking heavenly it all is. 

“Wanna help a girl out?” Karina offers, knowing your limits are growing shorter by the second. Your answer is simple, and you grab her shoulders without a second thought, thrusting upwards, fucking those gorgeous tits with everything you have. The sight is almost too much—seeing your shaft plunge into the slippery depths of her chest, disappearing again and again, enveloped in all this pale, creamy flesh. 

"Must feel so fucking good. You've been wanting to fuck these tits so badly that you can't even speak, poor thing," Karina tells you, her eyes watching intently while you thrust wildly with all this vigor. The urge grows as you chase your climax, cock begging to burst as you drive right between the huge mounds, a frantic rhythm only hastening while that lust dominates.

"Keep it up. Just like this, sweetie, keep that big cock right between these perfect tits," she purrs, and no longer is Karina doing most of the work—strawberry oil-covered breasts on either side and your throbbing cock in between.

You won't last another minute at this rate.

Karina loves how desperate you get, the utter control she has while you give into your carnal desires, unable to do a single thing other than bury your hard cock as deeply into that beautiful cleavage as possible, not a thought on your mind beyond emptying your balls.

"I hope this feels as good as it looks, sweetheart," her honeyed voice adds, just heightening the desperation. You can hardly even think straight, an aching urge like no other, and you can already picture how good Karina is going to look covered in your hot cum. 

Just a few more pumps are all you have left, and Karina moves her slick breasts along your cock to speed things up. Not that you need any additional help in reaching that goal, because the next stroke might be your last. 

"Shit, Rina—these fucking tits," you stutter out, breath strained, balls tight as you brace for release. 

"Too much to handle? Let it all out, baby, blow that load all over these big tits.” 

There's no stopping what's about to happen—the constant throbs of your cock pumping away in between these glistening breasts tells you there's no hope, and the grip you hold on Karina tightens, pulling her forward to trap your stiff shaft even further. 

“Gonna fucking cover you—"

All this pressure building, threatening to erupt at a moment's notice, and there's only a single word from her mouth, prompting that inevitable release.

“Sweetie.“ 

One last squeeze does the trick—with a single pump of your cock between her tits, you cum. Harder than ever before, the thickness shooting so forcefully, spilling all over and painting a canvas of creamy streaks from between Karina's slick, heavy mounds.

Her expression softens at the sticky mess spilling everywhere. It's one powerful burst after the next, but Karina milks as much as she can, applying a firmer grip, her fingers massaging gently, urging more of those messy spurts from your sensitive tip.

Every last drop is rightfully hers—that pale skin gets splattered and glazed, creamy white streaks filling up her cleavage. A streak hits her chin, while most of it lands on her chest, just as intended, leaving behind a huge mess you've been desperate to give.

And Karina looks so satisfied, admiring the scene she helped create—all that milky seed, thick streaks clinging to her breasts and the rest just dripping lazily while your sensitive shaft still twitches. She holds you there in her grip for as long as she can, just for those lingering spasms, never taking her eyes off even as you start to falter.

"Good boy," she finally coos while you give a couple more lazy pumps, smearing what remains onto her heaving breasts. 

Despite your exhaustion, Karina's enthusiasm to display herself with the results of your climax smeared all over her enormous chest doesn't fade. She’s far from shy, lifting those messy, covered breasts and showing every detail, every streak of hot white. 

"Guess we should thank Yizhuo for such a thoughtful gift, wouldn't you say, sweetie?"

You can hardly muster a nod, slumping back against the pillows of the couch and panting hard as you try to stay conscious—her huge, perfect tits drenched in your load the only thing keeping you upright. 

"Hey, don't pass out on me now," she warns, giving your sensitive dick a few strokes, letting the feeling snap you awake, the overstimulation too much to bear. "We're not done yet, are we?" 

Your answer doesn't come quick enough—she laughs a bit while giving another few lazy strokes to your spent cock. "Jesus, Rina. You make me cum that hard and expect me to go again?"

"Mhmm," she giggles, shimmying down her skintight leggings until they fall down around her ankles, leaving nothing else but thin, pink-lace panties that get tugged down and kicked off in record time. Your balls can’t be completely empty already. Since when has one round ever been enough?"

You can’t exactly argue that, not when there's nothing left to stand in the way as your eyes feast upon Karina's bare cunt, her legs parting, exposing everything and just spreading the slightest bit so you can have this delicious sight of her body in its full glory.

"I'll give you a few minutes. Or are you telling me you don't wanna get balls deep in me? If so, I'll just take care of myself, I guess."

That's an empty threat if you've ever heard one, but still, nothing brings out the hunger faster than a comment like that. "Don't you fucking dare. Give me five minutes—we'll see who can't go again."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. Just come and bend me over once you're ready," she says with this innocent tone that is anything but. "I’ll be waiting."

Karina gives a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a pile of discarded clothes in a heap as she saunters out of the room, her ridiculous wide hips swaying, naked as can be.

"Five minutes!"

Your head still spins, but you take a deep breath and head towards the kitchen. Quickly opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water, you chug it all as fast as you can. Because in five minutes, you better be ready.

It’s nowhere near long enough to calm all that heat burning inside you, but it’ll have to do. 

Little by little, you start to regain your senses when those five minutes are nearly up, and you're not even sure if it's enough—no, you're certain it's not, but you head to the bedroom regardless, determined to prove her wrong.

When you step through the open doorway, all you can see is Karina and her nude perfection sprawled out on the sheets in the most provocative manner that she can manage, her flawless skin now devoid of your orgasm or any other messy fluids. She's not idle, that's for sure, a hand occupied between her legs, and you get a fantastic view right from the start. 

Two of her slender fingers plunge right inside her needy cunt while the other hand circles a pretty nipple, tugging on it to tease, this lewd scene an invitation for you to come join.

"Thought you might not show up," Karina says, voice all sultry when all you've done is stand there and stare, looking right back. "Got a little warmed up without you. Hope that's okay.” 

"And you call me the needy one.”

She hardly pays attention, more focused on the hurried movements her fingers make, curled to hit just the right spot as they slide effortlessly in. The bedsheets are rumpled by her head, where Karina lies as she thrusts in and out of her pussy, and her contorted features show no trace of shame—eyes heavy, gaze sharp, touching herself like there's no one else around. 

"That's because you are. Now be a good boy and get up here.” 

You aren't about to disobey. 

Her moans don't cease for a moment, getting louder, less controlled by the second. But this heavenly view, Karina's flawless naked figure—it's everything, every gorgeous detail. You can only do so much admiring from the foot of the bed, and eventually, the call to explore her body is undeniable.

No reason to stall the inevitable when you climb the bed, sinking knee deep into the mattress. A front seat to this show, how Karina gets her fingers so deep in her cunt, until the sight is just torturous to watch, not to bury yourself between her legs already. 

"Didn't hear a please. Don't tell me you've gotten so needy you've forgotten your manners?"

"Please? Pretty please, sweetheart,” Karina says in the most sarcastic tone imaginable, because she knows you're going to listen to her, regardless. While she looks like this, in such a depraved state, body entirely flushed and sticky with her arousal, you know your desire to tease her is absolutely meaningless. So you give an unapologetic glance, staring between her spread legs, and just savor the most erotic view, how two pretty fingers continue working away at her entrance.

But just when the show gets good, she pauses long enough to withdraw her own wet digits, making way for a much-needed, anticipated replacement.

Those digits pull out, absolutely drenched and shove right in your mouth, pushing in all the way until you slurp up her arousal. And while you suck her fingers clean, tongue wrapping all around them, it's not lost on you just how pathetic you must appear right now—chasing down that taste, long past the point of it lingering in your mouth, not embarrassed in the slightest. 

"See, I knew you were the needy one." Karina is trying her hardest not to laugh at the desperation you have while sucking her fingers, but it's a losing battle. But you really don't care, not when you can make a show out of it, so sloppy and eager to keep them in your mouth. 

But as much as you love the taste that is unmistakably Karina, it's not nearly enough to distract yourself—you're rock hard again. It doesn't matter that you came moments ago and that there's no way in hell you'll last any reasonable amount of time, not when her delicate hands reach right for your shaft, giving a few long strokes, which has your cock pulsating almost immediately. 

"Are you even gonna be able to hold it long enough to fuck me, sweetie?" she asks, knowing damn well that the answer is an obvious not at all, but her hands feel so fucking good working away that you're going to pretend it's a possibility. “Because I need your cock inside me already. Before I get it myself."

Karina isn't patient like you thought, not in this state. Her thighs are all spread and slick, pussy looking more appetizing than ever before while you take a second to admire the view—the lips of her dripping entrance, pretty and plump, where your entire cock wants to sink right in. And judging by the look given, Karina agrees with that sentiment. 

"Well?" she asks, the lack of patience shining through. Her wide, doe-eyed stare watches intently as you get situated. "Sweetheart, it's all mine—What are you waiting for? I’ve been waiting all day for this."

“All day? We haven’t even been up all day. Now, who’s the needy one?” You hardly get a response when her slender fingers wrap right around the base of your shaft. No more words, no more wasted motion—she strokes your hard, throbbing length slowly, guiding every inch right between her slippery folds. There's nothing to prevent what's next, no say in the matter when you feel the head of your cock disappear inside that wet heat. 

You finish what she starts, easing yourself deeper into her warmth as a long moan erupts from Karina's parted lips. The slow push has her falling flat onto the mattress, head hitting the pillows as she adjusts to being stretched wide—and there’s no chance you can resist sinking all the way in, balls fucking deep, so your stiff cock, still so sensitive, slides the rest of the way into her dripping, hot, greedy cunt.

It feels like heaven the instant you fill her up, the walls of her pussy clamping down tightly around you the moment you're in all the way. Like always, the first time you sink in feels the best, where your dick throbs the most, smothered by all this warmth you can’t escape. 

"God, Rina, you’re way too fucking tight—can’t believe how good you feel,” you groan as she gets such a harsh grip on your cock that you can barely move an inch. There's plenty of reason for hesitation. No need to deny the urge to stay right where you are, balls deep and surrounded by this heat.

“Go on, sweetheart—you don’t need me to tell you what to do, right?” Karina smiles, so blissed out and ready, her voice breathless as the last syllable trails off. And that look has you responding on instinct, the way you roll your hips back to the very edge where the head of your cock nearly exits, right before driving in balls deep once again, spreading her pink pussy lips further. "Let me feel every inch, baby.”

Another hard thrust. This time you bury yourself without hesitation while words turn into nothing but moans, every movement you make sinking in as much as you’re capable. 

It's hard to even find words to express what you're feeling right now; it's overwhelming, being inside Karina, all this heat and tightness, how goddamn wet she is for you. Nothing else feels nearly this amazing. And her reactions, how your cock makes those slippery wet lips part whenever you slide back in, this endless bliss on repeat—it’s perfect. 

"Fuck me, sweetie, get as deep as you can," is all Karina can get out, delicate fingers reaching out to sink into the sheets as you fall right into a deep rhythm. It’s gentle at first, but only for a fleeting moment, when you see this ravenous gaze that demands more, for you to fuck her without restraint. 

You eagerly oblige and get your greedy hands all over her, holding onto that slender waist to anchor yourself in, fingers digging deep into the smooth, pale skin. Every ounce of caution vanishes, and then you start to really fuck into her wet cunt, buried deeper than imaginable, groaning whenever that tightness strangles your cock, refuses to never, ever let go. 

Through these constant plunges that get your shaft so wet, her heavy breasts bounce so freely with every thrust that bottoms out with ease. It’s a constant struggle where to direct your attention, looking at her beautiful features, to her huge tits, and right back again—watching as Karina forms these lewd, drawn out moans while you fuck her like she demands, her heavenly cunt swallowing you right up, begging for more. 

"Rina, baby—you're fucking perfect, these huge tits, your tight fucking cunt,” and you can’t even finish the thought, not a single word left in your mouth when she clenches around your cock, so warm and slippery, desperate to keep you there. 

“My needy boy can’t even think straight when he’s fucking me so deep? Poor thing,” Karina says, and while all you can think of is making her moan without relent, she guides your hands up to her chest, the perfect opportunity to grope at her big bouncy tits. 

"There you go, play with them however you like—god, just like that, keep fucking me like a good boy," she orders, eyes watching so closely when you bury to the hilt, all that slickness guiding your movements in a warm, sticky mess. 

Not a thing could ruin your determination to give Karina everything she wants, when you keep those tits right underneath your palms, at a loss for words as they bounce unabated every time you plunge yourself back inside her, moaning every time. Her ridiculous breasts can't even fully fit inside your hands, even as you try, the heftiness unlike anything else when you squeeze as this beautiful woman writhes underneath your touch. You’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve her, but you’re not going to question a thing. 

“Karina—“ There’s no point in getting a coherent thought out, because your mind is blank, flooded by all these sensations that surround your cock, and the softness of her jiggling breasts while you play with them so roughly, nipples so sensitive as you tease and tug them to get these deeper moans out. 

"You’re so fucking wet,” you manage to finally get out, but the words sound slurred when you're drunk on lust, the vice grip of her cunt working you to a near delirious state. "Your tight fucking pussy makes my cock feel so good, I swear I can't fucking handle it—"

That’s when your hips move on their own, rutting without care, and you don’t even wait for Karina to respond, grabbing such a rough handful of her tits that gets her to moan so desperately while you slap them, hard enough to make a mark. 

“Mm—baby, you know I love that,” she says, and you watch in awe how her breasts bounce repeatedly after every slap, a rosy hue appearing beneath that perfect, milky white skin. Your grip on is anything but gentle, pinching a nipple in between raw smacks that resonate across the room while your thrusts help create a harsher ripple, the redness on her chest more encouragement than anything. 

Karina loves it. The harder you're fucking her, the more suffocating her pussy gets, moans starting to mix in with these cute, desperate whimpers that she just can't help. Her nipples underneath your fingers get so hard, even more sensitive whenever you aim your palm directly there. And god, you can't even think about anything else when your cock is buried deep in this delicious warmth, smacking her heavy tits as roughly as you please and staying exactly where her hot little cunt craves, leaving yourself nowhere to go but deeper and deeper between her legs.

"Fuck, sweetie, harder," she moans, words tumbling free when you play with her chest like it’s all you live for, showing absolutely no mercy whatsoever. "Pound me, fucking pound that pussy with everything you've got. I know you can.” 

Your hands keep grabbing greedily, giving her chest an impatient, possessive grope, with this satisfying feeling where they jiggle so deliciously in your palms. Nothing feels as good as that, seeing them in constant motion, so bountiful when you cup them and give these shameless slaps—loud and frantic, alternating to each, focusing on how this hypnotic sight drives you insane, and the sounds Karina makes are just the cherry on top.

"Gonna cum if you keep fucking my cunt that hard, mmph, fuck, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—"

It's all the more motivation to go even harder, bucking your hips, pistoning into Karina's dripping pussy as roughly as possible, each thrust guided by the constant flow of her juices that keeps you so deep inside. She’s gotten so sensitive by the rough treatment of her swollen, tender breasts, that you just watch the redness on her creamy flesh that doesn’t fade, how they bounce around so obscenely while you fuck her. 

"Harder, keep fucking me as hard as you can, sweetheart—" is all she can choke out, words coming in ragged bursts whenever a powerful thrust sends her breath hitching. 

You fuck her tight cunt the roughest she's ever taken it, grabbing her tits as aggressively as before, hips moving at the same breakneck pace that leaves you both losing it, sweat glistening on her skin, her walls swallowing you right back in each time you withdraw.

When you speed up past your limits, you can't help yourself—Karina’s warm fucking cunt feels so good that your inhibitions get tossed to the side, unable to control the way your cock pounds into her like she demands, like she deserves. 

"So close, sweetie—god, gonna fucking cum, make me cum all over your cock,” she says so desperately, eyes half-lidded, the walls of her cunt clenching so impossibly tight you’re not even sure if you can last before she hits her peak. But when you get another slam in that’s so deep, Karina loses it—cumming hard right on the spot, her whole body going tense, back arching from how strong the euphoria feels. 

There's a rush of warm, sticky fluid coating your cock while you refuse to relent, those pretty features displaying how intense the pleasure hits when she shakes, thighs quivering, toes curling, mouth falling open. And you do your best to let this high linger, slamming your hips against her body so she can take it all, even though you're barely hanging on yourself.

"Fucking god," Karina groans when her eyes open again and her gaze lands directly on you, a sweet, satisfied grin on her lips as you struggle to maintain composure. "So good at fucking my tight pussy, aren’t you? Didn’t think you were going to last long enough for me to—"

“Please, I have some self-control,” you start to say, not even believing the words yourself. 

"Then get rid of whatever you have left," Karina breathes heavily, chest still heaving. And while you pump your cock all the way inside, she wraps her long, slender legs tight around your waist, heels digging into your back. "Need you to cum inside me. Think you can do that?"

You just thrust as fast and deep as possible to answer, the entirety of your wet shaft slamming into until everything becomes a blur. There’s nothing left to prevent the groans that escape your lips when you bury your face into the crook of her neck and ride that edge, fucking into Karina with reckless abandon. 

"Need you to fill me up, make me feel all that hot cum," Karina pleads in your ear, her wet, warm cunt getting an even tighter grip around your cock that makes you go completely insane from how close you are. “You can do it, sweetheart, cum deep inside me, you know that’s how I like it."

But she doesn't have to tell you that when this tightness wrapped around you won't let up as you go completely feral, groaning into the crook of her neck, picking a spot and licking, kissing, sucking her pale, beautiful skin. You lose all focus, and it's easy enough to follow Karina's urgent pleas when those dulcet tones slip into your ear, when the intensity grows and you're pulling every ounce of pleasure you can get.

“Almost there, aren’t you? Empty your balls in me, sweetie. I know you can’t take it any more.” 

Your hips do what Karina asks without any hesitation, surrendering completely, plunging yourself inside that hot, heavenly heat until there’s no turning back. She’s keeping you buried there with those powerful thighs, making sure there’s no escape for your aching cock while you get as deep as possible, nails digging into your back for extra measure, and with a final, powerful thrust—

That’s when you finally unload inside Karina—you can only groan helplessly while erupting thick, hot spurts, her nails dragging across your back as that perfect cunt milks out everything she can get and beyond that. Such an explosive release overwhelms you, especially as she holds you hostage with those sweaty thighs, and all you can do is pump her full of seed like there was never any other option. 

Nothing can ever, ever compare, endlessly filling Karina’s greedy little cunt, just helplessly throbbing when you’re buried so deep, flooding it all into her body with the release she’s earned. Even as you fuck your load deeper into those slippery depths, she keeps you locked in place, still trying to drain every drop from your balls that she can get, practically begging for more. 

But when it starts to calm down—that doesn’t mean you have any urge to pull out. 

“Feels so warm, that’s a good boy,” Karina praises, but you can hardly get a word out when you look up, eyes landing right on that body glistening with sweat, chest heaving to catch her breath after it all. It’s a view you can’t resist, seeing how her breasts rise and fall when she lets out exhausted gasps, and if you weren’t buried in this sticky mess you’d be more than willing to lick her all up. 

“Rina, fuck—“  you groan out when her limbs unlock from your waist one by one.  

"Didn't think you had that much left in you after you covered my tits the first time," she says, meeting your gaze and you can’t help but admire how her disheveled appearance makes her look even prettier. "I think your balls really do never empty."

"What am I supposed to do when your body looks like this?” you ask in this desperate attempt to catch your breath. ”When your tight cunt feels so fucking good, and those perfect fucking tits—"

Karina just laughs. 

"Always going on about my tits. I think you're a little obsessed with them. Not that I blame you. I'm sure you saw those stares earlier, too, on our little walk back?” Karina asks, a gentle reminder about the useless walk that started this all. “Must have felt good to show me off, knowing the guys couldn't believe their eyes. But only you get to suck on them, play with them like you just did. Only you get to put that cock between them and—"

"Jesus, Rina, please, I can't go again.” That's not entirely true, but the mere suggestion already has your spent, exhausted cock stirring with interest again. Through this entire conversation, you're still inside Karina, her cunt remaining impossibly warm, this sticky mess threatening to overflow and spill everywhere. 

"Poor thing, I've gotten you all tired out. You sure you don't want one more? Just a quick little ride while I bounce these tits in your cute face? I promise to go nice and easy…" Karina smiles, batting her eyelashes for added effect. As much as that sounds like everything you’ve dreamed of, your body betrays you in that very moment as the sensitivity starts to kick in. So, with an unimaginable amount of willpower, you pull yourself out with a groan.

When you both look right down to the mess you've created, a huge, sticky flood gushes right out of her—an absolute deluge of white leaking out, dripping all over her thighs and onto the brand new sheets. 

“Too tired to answer, sweetie? You don't want another load dripping out of me just like this? Like I said, I wouldn't go hard—just nice and slow, while you watch. A sweet treat for my sweet boy."

God knows you want nothing else, to just lay on your back and drink in the view of Karina riding you, watching those perfect breasts jiggle and bounce around wildly while you don't even have to move. And yet you can't deny this exhaustion in your bones that has other plans. "Karina, please, I'm so—"

"So spoiled? Is that what you were going to say?" she responds cheekily.

There's not a damn chance in hell you could handle this woman going full speed on your poor, overstimulated cock when she's capable of making you blow within seconds, riding you like only she can and no doubt knocking you unconscious when the job is done. 

"Do you even know what nice and slow is? When has that ever been your style?"

Karina's jaw drops in disbelief, a hand over her mouth as if she's truly surprised by the remark. "Are you saying I'm incapable of such a thing?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"Fine, you big baby," she teases as she shakes her head with a smile. "I'll fuck your brains out some other time, I guess. Wouldn't want to break my favorite toy."

You're unable to form a comeback, succumbing to eventual collapse on top of her, face resting on her chest where you take a second to indulge and revel in the sensation of being pressed against her warm body. Karina's fingers run gently through your hair, stroking those sweaty locks.

"You can do anything you want to me next time. But after I'm good and ready again."

"Anything, huh?"

You nod, not even fully cognizant of what those words might mean until it's far too late, when a wave of fatigue takes its effect. Karina guides you away, bringing her head closer and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

✦ ✦

Hours pass by before you stir once more, having fallen asleep right afterwards on Karina's supple chest, the softest pillows you could ask for. You're unsure what time of day it is, if it's evening or even the next morning already—all you know is you’ve never slept so well. 

"Look who finally decided to wake up. It's about time, sleepyhead,” a familiar teasing voice greets as you look up to find Karina's playful features looking at you.

"Sorry. Someone sucked all the energy right out of me."

"Oh, don’t be so dramatic. How are you feeling, sweetie?" Karina asks, running fingers through your hair so tenderly. 

"Good as new. Could use a shower, though."

"Well, how about you wait a minute? There’s just…” Her voice trails off, and it's clear she has something important on her mind, as her fingers slide through your disheveled hair that she's been stroking for quite some time now. “Something I’ve got planned for you.” 

You're not even completely lucid yet before her lips crash against yours, a heated, demanding kiss that can't be refused. No doubt she dominates the moment and slips her tongue inside your mouth, tasting you as thoroughly as possible. And that‘s all it takes for the lust to creep back in, forcing the blood to rush south and a familiar hardness to kick in. 

"Remember what you said before you passed out?"

You just stare at Karina dumbfounded—certain you had a clear recollection, but also well aware this sudden awakening makes recalling events quite difficult, so she leans in to remind you. "Told me you'd let me do anything. Are you still on board, sweetie?"

Now you remember. It's not like the words came from nowhere, and you aren't in the business of breaking promises. A simple nod is all the response needed, and Karina bites her lower lip with anticipation. And with that, she disappears into the bathroom, leaving you curious about whatever she has in mind. When she reemerges, the picture becomes crystal clear.

Karina returns back inside, now sporting black lingerie—stockings, garter belt, the works, all connected with an assortment of straps. There's no doubt your eyes are locked right on that sinful body and all those curves, because you’ve never seen her look so good. Quite the surprise that you can’t even process it all; the way her thick thighs look in that sheer fabric, and those heavy tits look fucking amazing in this particular bra, held together with hopes and dreams, the barely existent fabric exposing far more than it hides. As if her chest didn’t already need more showcasing, this amplifies the sheer size of her assets, drawing further attention right where it should be. 

"What do you think?" she asks, a small smirk appearing on her pretty face as your hungry eyes wander. 

You can't possibly be expected to form an intelligent response. Such a seductive outfit has you nearly speechless—Karina has never looked more breathtaking, straight out of your deepest desires. "Do you even need to ask?"

"Yes. Because I like hearing you say it," she replies almost sheepishly, posing to show herself off, bending over forward to show off that absurd amount of cleavage. 

"Like every fantasy I've ever had, Rina. You're absolutely fucking gorgeous.” 

"Thanks, sweetie." There's a slight pause while she beams from ear to ear, and then the mood shifts when she looks at you—you can see the gears turning inside her head. "Now, follow me. Lose the boxers."

You do so at once and discard that piece of clothing, not particularly caring where it lands. Following Karina comes second nature as you walk obediently behind to the living room, which looks exactly the same as earlier—except for one thing.

Waiting for you is a single chair sitting in the middle of the room, without arms or extra frills and a curved back, but mostly an ordinary black chair. "Alright, sweetie. I want you to take a seat right here."

So without hesitation, you sit, positioning yourself in the chair as comfortably as possible while Karina’s eyes linger, scanning your naked figure while you await further instructions. She gives no immediate explanation, instead circling behind you as that silky touch caresses your back, along your shoulders, making her way around to your neck, nails gently scraping across. 

And while she's got you distracted, Karina moves quickly, taking both of your arms, holding them behind your back as she ties your wrists together with what feels like soft rope, securing you in place. 

"Anything, sweetie?" she echoes right in your ear, the question seemingly rhetorical while she ties you up tight.

“Yeah—anything.” 

Once finished, Karina stands directly in front, towering over you, sizing up your helpless state as you get a closeup view of your desires manifested, full-blown sin, like it’s a reward for your cooperation. 

You can only stare, nearly stunned to silence as your vision is filled by the curves of Karina's body and her lacy undergarments—the shapely thickness of her stocking-covered thighs, the dangerous valley of her breasts desperate to spill out, all framed nicely and right in the center of your line of vision, everything displayed like a beautiful work of art, no ounce of modesty in sight. "Get a good look, sweetheart. Don't be shy."

How could you when she has your attention held captive so easily—the way those tits bounce from the slightest movement, and how goddamn delicious her body looks that makes you throb between your legs like never before. You don’t close your eyes or turn your gaze while you salivate over this gift just out of reach, cock aching like crazy, unable to think, and certainly unable to move.

Karina does her best to interrupt your thoughts as she grazes the side of your face, letting her manicured nails scratch down to your chin, the slightest hint of contact sending shivers through your body. "You seem pretty comfortable tied up. Enjoying this?"

"Not as much as you seem to be," you reply, earning you this devilish little look on her face that turns more sinister with every waking second. Karina tilts your chin up, diverting your gaze from that sinful chest so she forces eye contact. “Tell me, sweetie—what would you do right now if you weren't all tied up like this?"

What wouldn't you do? The options are endless, but at the very least you’d pin Karina right on the ground, rip off every piece of fabric hiding her beautiful body and well—

It’s hard to even put your fantasies into words. “Bend you over that fucking couch and shove my cock right inside you. Wouldn't even take those panties off—just shove them aside and make you cum so hard you forget your own name.”

The reaction to those words is instant. First, her eyes widen, like she’s visualizing just that, swiping her tongue across those sultry lips. Her weight shifts and those creamy thighs press together, with no missing the way her breathing deepens, chest even that more enticing, making your greed boil to the surface as you ache to grope and squeeze those full tits in your grasp. “Would you now? What would you do once you get my little cunt all stretched out for you, dripping wet? Tell me, sweetie. In detail."

A brief moment to gather your thoughts while Karina continues to pull out your deepest fantasies. “With an ass like that, there’s no way I’m not getting my hands all over it—slap those pretty cheeks until it stings, until it’s bright fucking red with my handprints marking you all over.” 

“Fuck, look at you trying to act all tough and dominant,” she says, and lets out a long, content sigh. "More. Come on, don't hold back."

"I'd finger your greedy little asshole while pounding into your cunt. Open you up real good and fuck you while you beg for more, beg me to ruin you.” 

Her smile only gets bigger at the suggestions—she's clearly enjoying this. "That's cute that you think I'd ever beg for anything—that's really more your style," she replies, licking those glossy lips like she's imagining every little detail, so tempted to put your words into reality. 

"But it has been a while since I had anything in my tight ass. But what comes next? What else would you do to my poor, helpless body?"

You imagine it all, Karina with her hands tied behind her back, bent over in this obscene angle, face pressed up against the cushions with nothing to help her escape while you just have your way with her— 

"I'd fucking destroy your cunt. Grab that long, beautiful hair and pull hard on it, so fucking hard. Hold those hips and smack that perfect fat ass until it's bruised while I pump that hungry cunt full of hot cum. Again and again, for as long as I want."

The mere thought alone makes you so impossibly hard it hurts, and you realize you’ve fallen into her trap, going along with her game far too easily, not thinking things through when all you’ve done is riled yourself up. But seeing the satisfaction spread over her face as you stumble over your words is worth the sacrifice.

"Who knew you had such a dirty little mind? Just hearing all that, fuck, do you know how wet you’ve gotten me?” Karina asks as she steps in a bit closer, locking lips again, tongue slipping in so easily. Her free hand strokes you slowly, gripping your cock hard enough to make you moan in her mouth—and while those luscious fingers glide all the way down, you feel something slide over your shaft, down to your base, something secure and snug around you, applying just the slightest pressure. 

"Rina, what—"

She smiles, so innocently, like she's proud, and it clicks into place what exactly it is before she explains. 

"A cock ring. It should make everything I do to you feel even better. And maybe help you last longer. You should start to feel the effects in a minute or two," Karina answers. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

You shake your head immediately; the idea taking some time to register—wondering how a small rubber ring could amplify all these sensations, but you trust her words. With some thought, you conclude this might actually be a blessing when dealing with whatever you're about to be in store for. You're not exactly in a position to argue with it anyway. 

Despite the pressure, the tightness, you can't complain—the sensation feels strangely wonderful. All the blood rushes to your throbbing cock, making the pleasure feel far greater than usual, almost overwhelming, every stroke Karina gives infinitely more intense. 

"Starting to feel good, isn't it, sweetie? Getting nice and sensitive for me?"

Your cock twitches in response, almost involuntarily trying to thrust upward to feel even more, desperate for whatever Karina will give. So distracted by how good these fingers feel wrapped around your shaft you’ve almost forgotten your helpless state, only reminded when the rope digs into your wrist and limits your movement. With an almost painful grip, she jerks faster, all that sensitivity flaring up, making every sensation all more powerful. 

When she stops stroking, her thumb just presses down on that spot right below the swollen head, rubbing ever so gently. Jerking forward becomes something out of your control, and you grit your teeth at the intensity as she applies constant pressure to that area, a loud moan you had no intention of releasing escapes so easily. That same pattern continues, a ritual: a slow rhythm of strokes that ends in her rubbing that same sweet spot, then she picks up right where she left off, squeezing and pumping her hand back up. 

"I can just imagine it—I bet it feels ten times more sensitive than ever. And even harder than you've ever been. God, sweetie, you're leaking so much already, and we've only just started. I'm going to have so much fun with you."

She's not exaggerating, and when one finger circles over the tip, drawing back down a path down to your base, slow, painfully slow—you know this is going to be torturous to endure. With every little touch or stroke, your cock grows more desperate, throbbing heavily in her gasp, craving every bit of stimulation like oxygen. If not for this tight little ring preventing your release, you have a feeling you’d already be making a mess all over your stomach. 

But what really undoes you is the teasing smirk on her face. The way her thumb brushes across the sensitive tip, eliciting an audible gasp when she pulls away. 

"Does it feel good when I stroke your big, throbbing cock? When I squeeze it just like this? Karina asks, refusing to move faster than she needs to, a maddening pace, up and down, all the way to your swollen, dripping tip, collecting your precum on her fingers. “Are you trying not to lose it already?" 

When you only groan in response, desperate and unable to put any coherent thoughts into words, Karina presses her thumb against your leaking slit for a fleeting moment, before stroking quicker, sliding all the way down to the base of your shaft and repeating the motion again. 

With each little touch, each little graze over your cockhead, she grins at every noise you let slip—every single whine, every last whimper. Karina grabs your cock as rough as she pleases, the other hand coming to fondle your heavy balls, squeezing just the right amount to get you absolutely weak—rolling the weight between her fingertips. 

“Now, sweetie—tell me, wouldn’t you like me on the sofa, my legs all spread, dripping wet while you fill up my tight cunt? Your perfect cock plowing in and out of me, splitting me open, that would feel so good, wouldn’t it? How would you even take me if you were so sensitive, so on edge? You’d fucking burst as soon as my pussy swallowed you up, wouldn't you?" 

All you can think of is exactly that exact scenario—how fucking tight and wet that warm fucking cunt always gets, squeezing your sensitive shaft and bringing you to climax within the very first thrust. Imagining burying yourself deep into that sticky mess, folding her in half as you fuck her at your leisure, a raw, merciless pace. And then filling her with your sticky cum as those tits bounce from each vicious stroke, over and over, using her body exactly like you need.

You try to shove that image from your mind, knowing you're already falling apart from the tiniest bit of imagination. 

But it's nothing to how Karina makes you feel with her delicate fingers wrapped firmly around your cock, twisting a bit before stroking down to the base and then repeating all over again, spitting directly onto your cock to ease the glide. 

“Could you even manage not to burst when you get buried deep in this ass?” she asks, snapping your attention back, keeping her thumb circled around the base of that swollen cockhead. “Maybe we can test that out. See how quickly you blow your load when I'm sitting on top of your cock, spreading my cheeks open and stretching my asshole until you're buried as deep as I can take…” 

“Rina, please—“ 

And there's no reply—just the deliberate, focused teasing when Karina spins around, now with her back turned, offering a glimpse of that amazing ass you've been dying to get your hands on. Before you can even prepare, the supple flesh of her ass sits back against your shaft, grinding against what’s trapped right in between her soft, luscious ass cheeks.

That's when the true agony kicks in. That tight, round ass starts rubbing your poor, deprived cock, while your restrained hands tug against your binds, the urge to grasp her hips and slam the full length straight up her asshole becoming unbearable.

"It's a little selfish of me, isn't it?" Karina chuckles, leaning back on your body. "You can't even do anything right now. All I'd have to do is sit on this needy cock of yours, get it all inside this tight little asshole, and your balls would be drained within seconds. Just need a little of that strawberry oil that smells so good. It's been a while since you've fucked my ass—what, a week maybe?"

The grinding persists, using your thighs to help guide her, filling you with frustration as you struggle in this helpless position. It's impossible to take what you desire when you’re tied up, the teasing insufferable.

You can’t deny that every inch of Karina is sculpted by the gods, and that ass—indulgently round, voluptuous cheeks, always flaunted with those snug sweatpants or the tightest jeans imaginable. It's not even fair how relentless she’s gotten, and you can only stare as your shaft slides helplessly between her plump cheeks, the only thing between you and heaven is that flimsy piece of fabric covering her asshole.

"Rina, please, god. I swear I’ll—“

"What was that, baby? Please, what?”

Your response falls silent the second she pulls off, spinning back around to see your desperation up close, letting your cock twitch helplessly against your abdomen. The loss of warmth against you is almost a greater cruelty than the sight of that chest all covered up in nothing more than thin lace, hopelessly confined.

"Didn't hear an answer. Is it getting to be too much?" Karina asks, flashing this all-knowing smile when she begins squeezing your cock hard, jerking the entire length with both her expert hands, the friction too intense to handle. The pumps get so frantic you can hardly speak, your balls growing painfully tight at all this denial.

"Y-yes—need to be inside you. Please, any part of you, baby," you plead, your voice sounding so pathetic, borderline unrecognizable. 

Karina ponders for a moment, brows furrowed, as though in deep consideration. You have no choice but to wait for her verdict, in torment, clenching your fists, dying for the chance to touch her. She presses a finger to your lips and runs it down your chest, flicking against a nipple that sends another rush of delirious pleasure through you. "No, not yet, sweetie. You've been such a good boy so far—just hold on a little longer." 

Her smile is every bit wicked as she swings a leg over around your waist, a bit of her weight settling on your hips. The fabric of her stockings is silky and soft, teasing the area where it rests, even more excruciating that you can't lay a hand on those thighs. Right away she resumes her harsh grip on your cock, pumping so fast, edging right to that climax only to deny it at the last moment—slowly and painfully easing back off. 

You're nearly shaking, hips bucking on repeat, not sure if the frustration feels better or worse than not being touched in the first place. Not to mention how everything feels ten times worse with this damn ring wrapped around the base of your cock that taunts you. "God, you really are ready to explode at any moment. Poor baby, you need to cover me in cum more than anything, isn’t that right?” 

"Yes, fuck—please, Rina, I can't take it, need to cum so bad," you plead, looking up at her, throwing all pride away. 

That's when Karina pumps you ever faster, dragging you over to that finish line, watching your reaction with those devilish eyes when she eases off before your orgasm has a chance to arrive, right back off your shaft and denying it once again. It's a long, torturous game—a few fast strokes, squeezing the head of your cock just how you need. 

And then she stops completely. 

It goes like this, with no reprieve, leaving your poor cock to throb helplessly against your stomach, painful when Karina leaves it abandoned with nothing but cold, frigid air. Bliss and denial, an endless cycle.

"So needy, aren't you, sweetheart? Wanting so bad to blow your load and cover me with this massive load," Karina laughs, admiring the strain on your face. “Tell you what—“ 

There’s a necessary respite that lets you breathe for a moment, when Karina squeezes your balls nice and tight, keeping that desperation held there for far too long. And that's when she reaches behind to unfasten her bra, moving at an infuriatingly slow pace, peeling the straps one by one, dragging this on for as long as she possibly can. 

You watch intently, hanging on each and every motion as she removes and tosses the entire piece right over your head. The best reward you can get for enduring this torture, you think. Her bare breasts come into view again—and it feels like the first time all over, nothing as erotic as these massive tits on display in front of you, that you almost don’t care that you can’t even squeeze them yourself. 

Almost. 

With nothing to stand in the way of your shameless leering, you do so, and Karina welcomes it—brushing her thumbs over her stiff nipples while you commit it all to memory. 

You're more than ready to erupt all over her, to spill everything across those pale breasts, and in the middle of your haze you hardly notice a familiar bottle popping open in her hands. As if this scene weren’t impossible to deal with already. Pouring oil all over her supple chest in a circle, Karina douses herself in more than a generous amount—stealing all of your attention when she rubs and spreads it evenly across her creamy skin. 

She has no intention of stopping there, generously applying more down to her abs, along that tight little frame, down to her milky thighs, still all wrapped in those silky stockings that drive you crazy more than anything. Now she's really playing dirty now, coating and slicking up her entire body for the occasion. And the worst part is how you can't do a goddamn thing—left watching this entire show while your cock aches with neglect as she teases her stiff nipples between her fingertips.

"Liking the view, sweetie?" she asks, running her slippery hands across her curves, knowing what a pathetic state you must be in, an oiled-up Karina up there with one of your biggest weaknesses. 

There's nothing you can manage, not even a nod as you're left helplessly staring, craving all that gorgeous skin under your own hands and you don't even have it in you to beg at this point. Anything you'd say would be beyond incomprehensible. "Can't say a word anymore? No more dirty fantasies you wanna share?"

Silence is a rare occasion, even when Karina has you bound up tight like this. So you must really be in awful shape. You'd love to give a satisfying response, but at this point, all your attempts come out as nothing more than groans. That's about all that you have left. 

Still, Karina takes that as an answer and climbs back into your lap, looking every bit irresistible, all covered and doused in that scented oil that soaks through whatever leftover lace exists, giving it all a nice glisten—nearly making your dick burst from the sight alone. She grabs a heavy handful of her breasts between slippery, oiled fingers, and just seeing her knead and fondle herself gets you squirming hard in your restraints, wanting so badly to sink your lips into them, desperate to have a taste. 

"Since you've been such a good boy—putting up with everything I’ve thrown at you and held on," Karina ponders out loud, as she begins to grind her oily body against you, all the friction intensifying every inch that touches, your skin burning with her touch. "Then maybe my baby deserves a nice, thick load across my chest after handling so much of this, don’t you? Think you could blow a big, messy load right across these tits for me?"

A frantic nod is all you have to offer, overwhelmed from her hot body sliding against you, all coated in warm slickness, driving you beyond the edge. Every ounce of your sanity is being tested. All this slippery flesh against your own drives you towards a finish that’s so imminent, so close, but you still have to wait until the very end, until Karina allows you that permission.

"That won't do," Karina says, slowing her movements down to a mere crawl. "Need you to use your words, sweetie. Let me know how badly you need it. Don’t I deserve that for getting you this worked up in the first place?”

There’s a string of words that escape that hardly make up a proper sentence. “S-so bad. Need to cum, please.” 

But that doesn't satisfy Karina in the slightest as she pushes off your lap and shifts lower down to her knees. This sight feels even worse than having her in your lap—far too tempting, watching her breasts bounce as she lowers and wedges herself closer, hovering between your spread legs. "Baby, we both know that's not enough. Give me a good reason to make you cum."

If not for those oily hands stroking over your thighs, you'd probably be responding a lot differently—but it's so tough to remain concentrated in this state, that the slightest touch nearly unravels you, the neediness in your voice escalating so rapidly. 

"F-fuck, god, please, Rina—want my thick load spilled all over you, need it all over your pretty face, wanna cum so fucking hard and cover every part of you. P-please. Fuck, need it so bad."

Your voice cracks near the end of it—enough for Karina to get both hands around your cock, her fingers fully gripping around every sensitive, throbbing inch of it. And god, you're so close it hurts. You feel like you've gone a month without any relief, and you can't suppress the moan that follows, the full brunt of an orgasm churning through your heavy balls, every sensation twice, maybe three times more powerful than usual.

"That's a good boy. Wasn't so hard, was it?" Karina chuckles, beginning to work your shaft with long, exaggerated strokes and her thumb circling all over the sensitive tip of your cock, admiring how absolutely broken you are. The climax builds an even faster and uncontrollable pressure, balls swelling so painfully tight—everything feels unbearably tense, not even able to imagine holding yourself back now. 

She gives your cock a light slap with her palm, drawing the most pitiful groan from you as you stare on in disbelief, the sensitivity too harsh to bear—and it's not any kind of relief when she gives another, a firmer hit to your swollen cockhead, afraid of blowing your load any second now. You think this is your limit, when all Karina does is deliver repeated slaps to your throbbing shaft, then gripping it even tighter before jerking her hand along the full length. 

"Look at you, you're gonna cum so much, aren't you? Maybe the biggest load you'll blow this month—let's put you out of your misery. Empty those heavy fucking balls and cum for me, sweetheart."

Those final words are all the relief you could've asked for, spoken with an affectionate smile as Karina leans forward and strokes your aching cock furiously, bringing you long past the tipping point. Everything begins with the hardest twitch in her grasp—an unexpected intensity that only progresses when she spurs it all on, her slippery, slender fingers pumping as fast as they can go, making sure you let it all out. 

And there's not an ounce of strength in you left to do anything but that, the tension within your balls unable to hold back anything, leaving you with the one option—to embrace it, the relentless strokes that help achieve ecstasy that's so long overdue. 

Karina's smiling, pretty face in front of you just adds an extra bonus.

There's no going back, and when your balls tighten, nothing can prepare you for the hardest orgasm you've felt in ages—all directed at her face as she anticipates what you've worked so hard for, not letting up one bit. You let out the most unrestrained deep groan as warm, thick spurts burst from the tip, immediately splattering across that stunningly beautiful face, hitting across her forehead and down to the bridge of her nose without a single flinch.

No thoughts to how far the shots reach as you explode more, spraying right across her cheeks, into her hair as Karina pumps the entire time, coaxing out your thickest load, changing the angle to drain you over her soft, pillowy lips as you tremble so violently underneath, overcome with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Everything keeps pulsing hard—covering even more of her porcelain complexion in white, your hot seed running thick across her face as she unloads every heavy burst over herself, seemingly endless, not easing her grip on your cock even once. 

The strength of your orgasm lingers once your load empties across her face, leaving a complete and total mess that you'll never forget, Karina completely covered in these thick strands that start to drip, her expression quite satisfied and content. The aftermath lingers—breathing so heavy even once your cock finishes the grand finale, throbbing wildly throughout it all and even Karina’s left unable to believe just how much has built up during your denial. 

"That's my good boy," Karina sighs, continuing to pump your oversensitive cock, even though there's no more left to spill—a series of weak twitches firing off after such a large release as you're reduced to a shuddering mess. "Look at all this cum you've painted my fucking face with, sweetie. Aren't I lucky? God, it's just all dripping down, so fucking thick and warm. That must have felt so fucking good, didn’t it?” 

You can hardly hear the giggles escaping, or process the image in front of you, Karina all covered in white and dripping with the results of that long-awaited climax, some of it reaching her sweaty, oily chest as well. When her hands let go, all that tension lifts and you finally breathe with the greatest ease, sinking back against the chair. 

And that's when you get to let it all sink in, this mess that Karina wears—it's rather artistic, in the lewdest way possible, clinging to her lips and chin, practically everywhere, thick and messy. 

Your breaths take longer to even themselves out, despite feeling the purest sense of relief you haven't felt in weeks, unable to take your eyes off from how your cum starts to slowly roll down the side of her chin, where Karina catches with her finger and slowly swipes upwards. She makes sure you're watching carefully and brings it to her lips, delicately taking that long, wet digit in her mouth, wrapping and sucking her lips around.

It's absolutely sinful to watch her suck the mess off like that, tasting your seed right off her fingertips as she hums and savors your load. 

"Tastes even better after what I put you through," Karina says with this wicked laugh, and you can hardly move a muscle from all this. "But you know—" And that pause she gives is filled with a whole other sort of danger, that same grin plastered across her face while she stays kneeling between your legs. "Still haven't gotten to ride you yet. After a load like this, I bet you don't have much left to give, hmm?"

You can't even begin to believe what you're hearing now. 

"Jesus, Rina, are you trying to kill me? I think you emptied me enough for the rest of this month."

Contrary to what you want, there's this devilish look that lingers as she glances down between your legs, noticing how you're definitely still plenty stiff—maybe because of that magical ring still wrapped on your cock, or that you can't look away from those cum-stained features. "R-Rina—please, give me like a day or two, at least."

"Poor thing. Can't handle this much?" Karina gets a few more strokes in, gripping and sliding along your sensitive length as if you hadn't released that large load over her, the pain of overstimulation stirring again in the worst possible ways. "But what if I just keep you here, all nice and hard for me. For the next hour, for two hours, three? Would you like that, sweetie?"

Even her delicate, loving caresses cause your body to shake and convulse. And god, you have never been this sensitive ever before. "Please no—fuck, you can't—g-god, too much, hurts—"

Karina can't help but feel a bit of mercy, so she stops, slowly sliding a finger down to your base and removing the rubber ring from your sore cock—within an instant, your entire length relaxes. "Fine, fine. I suppose that's enough."

Just this sudden reduction in sensations feels like heaven, and all you can manage is a deep, exhausted sigh. But the thing that scares you—is how part of you could easily say yes. "Th-thank you, god—"

"But we're not ending the night without me riding the fuck out of you. You're not off the hook yet." Fair enough, you think, even if you'd be entirely useless after this whole experience. “So, shower or..."

"A little hard to shower like this," you remind, still struggling to gather energy. 

She stifles a laugh. "Oh that? Guess I should let you out of those," Karina muses, undoing the ties around both of your hands. And finally, you have some freedom, taking the deepest, most rewarding breath as she rubs your wrists to help alleviate the discomfort. "Offer's still on the table, though. One more go with me on top riding you?"

"Rina, please, what part of you're going to kill me was unclear?"

"Alright, alright, just checking," Karina laughs, hoisting herself off her knees. "Then come join me in the shower. Still got a bit of you on me." 

Now that you can get behind—because you'll never deny the chance to see Karina's naked body under the hot running water, all soaped up and lathered. 

✦ ✦

Karina has never been one to sleep in. Especially not when she has class in the morning, so you're surprised to wake up first, lying next to her warm, dead-asleep figure. You don’t remember much of anything before passing out, given that a proper round two (three?) didn't exactly go as scheduled. But the soreness does slowly return when you shift your body, and she's the sole culprit for that.

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Karina looks with hardly anything covering her voluptuous body—a thin sheet not quite pulled all the way over, exposing most of her pale skin. 

Moving carefully, you try not to wake her—but it's a mistake to underestimate just how much Karina's eyes are really closed when her arms pull you in, holding you hostage against the warmth of her chest.

"Stay,” she murmurs, breaking the silence and wrapping a leg around your waist. “Were you watching me sleep again?" 

"Maybe," you reply, reciprocating the embrace and sighing happily when her arms coil around your back, pulling you closer against her body. "Am I not allowed to admire someone who looks so beautiful in the morning?"

"Oh my god, shut up,” Karina grumbles, but she’s easily silenced when you kiss her neck, lips running delicately across her skin, breathing her scent in.

"Already so riled up for me this early? Even after yesterday?" she asks, the question murmured between soft pants. "Didn't tire you completely out?"

"Impossible," you respond, delivering more tender kisses, intent on working your way down as you start to explore. 

"So insatiable—where do your hands plan on wandering to, hmm?" Karina laughs, shuddering at the teasing strokes along her hips. 

"Somewhere you'd like, I hope."

Your answer leaves Karina hesitating to respond—only giggling quietly and helping you move down the curves of her body. "Need me to give you the tour?"

"Well—if you're offering."

"Like an impatient puppy, aren't you?" Karina teases, planting a kiss on your cheek. "But it's so fucking cute how desperate you are this early. My needy good boy."

"Can't help it when there's so much for me to explore.” 

“Explore all you'd like then, sweetheart," Karina offers, the words leaving her so easy as she takes your wrists, leading your hands up to her delicious chest that you immediately have the urge to knead, sinking your fingers deep into those full, pillowy breasts. 

"I assume you wanna start with these?" 

And her smirk just encourages your touch, a low sigh coming from her lips when you follow her cue, cupping and squeezing the heavy weight of her gorgeous tits in both hands, the warmth of them so delicious while you grab a firm handful. 

"You know me too well."

The enthusiasm you show isn't shy when you roll the stiff peaks of her nipples under your thumb, relishing the sounds that follow from Karina—the soft moans and whimpers when you toy with them. And you can't help but bury your face in those massive, heaving breasts, running your lips across every supple, tempting inch, absolutely drowning in all this pale flesh. 

"So greedy, are we?" Karina mutters, almost smug as her fingers rake through your hair, gasps building while enjoying the attention lavished on her breasts. You give a hard squeeze, savoring the feel of her soft, supple flesh filling your palms, the shape that fills your hands so wonderfully, and you plant the most greedy kisses all along every inch of that delicious valley, unable to pull yourself away. 

There’s nothing else to be said, not when these ravenous slurps can answer for you. 

Nowhere else you would rather be than kissing your way all across her chest, flicking your tongue against a nipple that gets these loud moans flowing when you take it into your mouth, sucking hungrily before pulling back and doing it all over again, feasting on the other.

You don't leave either neglected, rolling the other bud between your fingertips while your mouth slurps around the opposite, devouring as much as you can. With every seal of your lips, Karina somehow grows more sensitive the longer she squirms beneath you.

"Fuck, you're really enjoying this, aren't you? They're so sensitive," she moans, arching her back as her chest beckons, offering up as much as you can ask for. But per usual, you're not content with just tasting, teeth grazing ever so slightly across her pretty nipples, nibbling at each swollen nub. And the instant you hear the sharp intake of Karina's breath, that's all you need to indulge further—playfully pulling into your teeth, tugging even rougher. 

"Good," you respond without missing a beat between laps of your tongue, swiping over and toying with both nipples, giving no end of this stimulation that your lips provide. 

Karina holds the back of your head as your lips suck so fervently, long past the point her breasts glisten, covered in spit. She doesn't let you wander elsewhere just yet, not that there's anywhere else you would want to go, enjoying this buffet she serves so willingly.

"Oh my god—you're too fucking much, love your mouth on my tits," Karina pants, tugging at your hair, encouraging your lust. Her beautiful breasts bounce when they leave your grasp, but your lips and fingers stay relentless, tweaking and playing with her tits as your mouth gets beyond sloppy, popping off and licking all over with even more vigor, a hunger that can't be satiated. 

Her hand around the back of your head guides you to whichever needs the most attention, your mouth gladly following, working the perfect combination between your lips and teeth to tease out a plethora of whimpers, desperate cries, saliva dripping everywhere. You suck and suck without mercy, completely gone, absorbed in her huge fucking tits like nothing else exists—

"Shit, wait, wait—sweetie, come back up," Karina suddenly demands, pulling you out of your lust-fueled haze. It's a tough separation to make, prying your lips involuntarily off her swollen, slippery buds. 

"What? What’s wrong?" 

"The time. Fuck, I can't be late today," Karina sighs, peering at the clock behind you. 

"Yes you can. I can't just—"

"Hey, I’m serious,” she groans. "Just because you're that desperate to stay latched onto my tits, doesn't mean I want to miss my exam.”

When you meet her eyes—there’s no real sense of truth or commitment, even after she gives this light tug that barely has any energy behind it. This isn’t fooling anyone. In the blink of an eye, she's under you once again, squirming underneath your lips. "My schedule—mm, no, hey, are you listening?”

"You can't leave me after this. All worked up, I haven't even gotten you off yet." 

"This is entirely on you."

"No, I'm not taking the blame. This is on you and these goddamn perfect tits of yours."

"Sweetie—" she whines, growing less and less inclined to leave the bed when she grabs your wrist. "Sweetie, I swear to fucking god, can't you just keep your dick to yourself until I get back?"

"No, not when you keep moaning so much," you tell her, refusing to relent. "You're more turned on than I am."

There’s this feigned surprise on her face when she hears that, like it’s somehow the worst thing you’ve told her. "Am not. We both know you're a worse liar than I am, and—it's not my fault you were sucking so hard I almost came." 

"What did you expect when you shoved your tits in my face first thing in the morning?"

Karina rolls her eyes, because it's all so ridiculous how she's acting like this is all your fault—when it's exactly what she should expect.

"That doesn't mean you had to spend like a fucking hour sucking them for—let me up, I have to get ready, you goddamn animal." 

"Animal? You could have stopped me anytime. Don’t put this on me."

"Not with that fucking mouth I couldn't. Look, I can take care of you the second I get back, I just need to—"

It's not like Karina doesn't notice your frustration, that adorable pout across your face, looking almost offended that she would try to deny you of anything. But she's having far more trouble resisting, especially when you look so needy and pathetic like this.

“How long do you have? You can't leave without me making you cum."

"Fuck, I don't know, not that long—maybe twenty minutes,” she says, not even sure of the estimate herself. 

"Perfect. That's plenty of time." 

"It's not. I need to shower, get dressed, eat something. Let me go, you crazy fucking perv."

"You don't need to shower, you smell amazing."

Karina scoffs. "You're just used to me like this. Which is why I need a goddamn shower." 

"Then I'll just fuck you in the shower. Save us time," you counter, but all Karina can do is groan, face-palming from how impatient and stubborn you are. 

She pushes herself up on her elbows, shaking her head so dramatically. "Jesus, you're not letting this go, are you? Am I gonna have to tie you up again?"

"Is that a promise?" 

And somehow, you've managed to break through her resolve. Karina can't stop laughing, face in the crook of your neck, giggling so cutely. "You're fucking unbelievable. When was the last time I wasn't late for something?"

"Dunno. Does it matter?"

"Fine. Okay. Fine—I suppose the shower isn't a bad idea. Maybe it'll cool you off a bit."

"Don't count on it."

The two of you hurry into the bathroom—and perhaps a better word would be fumbled, given how reluctant you are to take your hands off her for too long. But once the hot water starts raining down from above, there's no stopping what's about to take place.

You're drawn in by everything you love about Karina, embracing her from behind, and you find yourself staring shamelessly at her beautiful features, dripping wet. She looks utterly gorgeous without even trying, hair matted to her forehead, water running down her body to just accentuate each and every curve.

"Sweetheart—" she starts, interrupted quickly when you pull her close, pressing a kiss against the soft skin of her neck. "A quick fuck. That's it. You don't have permission for anything else." 

You don't answer with anything but your hands on her hips that she rolls against you, letting out a breathy sigh at how your cock nudges between her cheeks while she places her hands against the steamy glass of the shower door. 

Then Karina lets out the prettiest moan when you're back inside her warmth again. 

Your fingers dig into her curvy hips while you pump, and she spreads her legs as the perfect invitation to ease yourself deeper into her heat, walls fluttering against your shaft, tits pressed up against the cold glass.

"God, fuck,” Karina cries out. “That’s it, fucking split me open, fuck me like you were begging a few moments ago.” 

Before you can even meet her demands, she pushes her hips against you to get things moving. And it's always a pleasure being ordered around by her, especially when it means your cock gets to be so impossibly deep, burying every single inch in that smothering heat. 

There's no slow, easy thrusts, no warning before she's rewarded with a quick slam of your hips. Her entire body shudders at the sensation, nails dragging down the slippery glass of the shower wall as she braces herself.

"So—it's all my fault?" you growl between thrusts, hips picking up speed, getting a tighter grasp on her body for some needed leverage that has you wetly slamming right in, making the most of every single inch. 

"Absolutely. Mm, ah, fuck, this is your doing—don't you dare hold back. Keep going, keep fucking going, harder—fuck, do your duty and make me cum on that thick fucking cock." 

Every deep thrust forces her further against the glass while you oblige, tits so helplessly pressed up so deliciously as you thrust like your life depends on it, keeping her pinned underneath, ass rippling as you pump in and out with each harsh movement. The hot water beating down on you only adds to the frantic, lewd sounds of your bodies crashing against one another, wet skin on wet skin, every moan amplified. 

"There, just like that, sweetie. So good, love when you fuck me deep, fucking destroy me," Karina moans out, legs wobbling as they almost buckle from how roughly you plunge into her, limits already being tested. She sounds so beautiful, so blissed out when she claws at the glass, body unable to withstand your punishing thrusts, like there’s nothing left but succumbing to your cock.

"A-almost there, sweetie, oh my god don't fucking stop, fuck!" Karina lets out these careless moans, no regards for how loud she's being. Even the neighbors will hear—and she doesn't even fucking care, as long as you don't stop. She's far, far too lost in this, throwing her head back, screams escalating through the echoing walls of the shower. "Gonna cum, shit, I'm gonna fucking cum, sweetie, fucking make me—"

This sudden vice tightening around you is all you need to ensure Karina gets exactly what she demands as she trembles in your grip, falling apart. Another shriek echoes from her throat, clenching violently when her climax triggers, palms flat against the rattling glass, your hips so frantic as they slam against her, driving a few more quick, deep thrusts for good measure.

You can hear it all—and most importantly feel it, the erratic, uncontrolled way she shudders, the convulsing walls of her warm cunt proof you've done a job well done. So you keep pistoning into her, keep up the brutal pace of your hips, not slowing down or do anything but pound right through this blissful release, 

"God, baby—“ Karina gasps out, weak and breathless, clinging onto the glass to not slump forward, already spent by her release, and yet her body can't even help itself when she grinds back, craving even more. “How, how do you keep doing that, making me cum so hard? Such a good fucking boy, keeping me so satisfied.” 

There’s not much of an answer for that as Karina keeps her body flush against the glass, struggling to recover her breath while you thrust so deep. "But as much as I love your cock in me, I think we're running out of time…” 

"Are we?"

"Yeah, so you better wrap this up and fill me. Right now, grab my fucking tits and empty those balls.” 

You don't have it within you to hesitate, grabbing those heavy breasts, squeezing them tightly. Nothing beats this combination: all that supple flesh in your fingertips while your throbbing cock pummels the deepest depths of her, every inch inside her velvety cunt. Then all that’s left is to fuck her like your life depends on it, not a thought left but drilling with reckless abandon. 

There’s nothing but your hips moving, the harsh slap of flesh, this greedy grope you give her chest like you just can’t get enough—which you can’t. You’ve got her pinned so hard against the shower, holding on to her tits as you just fuck her senseless, completely pounding into her cunt, keeping her stretched, using this perfect body to milk your cock. 

“Rina, god—baby, your pussy, oh, fuck, I can't—I'm gonna cum," you groan, losing all control over yourself, barely able to give any warning. Not that Karina needs it when she can feel you throbbing, how much you’re going to erupt. 

It doesn't take a second longer for Karina to get what she wants.

You fall apart and erupt into her, slamming one more time to bury yourself to the hilt as you empty inside her in thick, heavy bursts, each spurt more dizzying than the last. Karina clenches so harshly when you fill her to the brim, this heavenly squeeze when she greedily takes everything, milking it all out, demanding not a drop gets wasted. Everything leaves your balls in an urgent rush, right into her sopping cunt, sending her right over the edge one last time as she joins you in this blissful release.    

“Filled me up so well, sweetie,” Karina murmurs through the bliss, every violent throb pushing her up against the glass window, pinned and helpless against the rough pounding of your thrusts until your hips decide to falter. “Now that you got everything out of your system, do you think you'll be able to survive the rest of the day?"

You only play with her tits in response, catching your breath as you lean against her body, kissing her shoulders from behind. "Probably not. But I'll manage, somehow. I guess."

She laughs softly at the admission, a quick tilt of her head to kiss you while you reluctantly withdraw your drenched cock , the mess leaking out from her freshly pounded, slick hole. As always, this is your favorite sight—all the white leaking from between her thighs and down to the shower tiles. But you know there's not enough time to appreciate this glorious view, because you'll never hear the end of it if you're responsible for making her late. 

"If you really can't manage, you have all those pictures I’ve sent to tide you over. Jerk off on my panties if you need to, I don’t mind. Whatever helps you get by."

"Have a little more faith in me, would you? I'm not so far gone yet that I can't control myself for a little while. I'll survive."

"Could have fooled me," Karina responds as she exits the steamy shower, stepping onto the cool bathroom tile and reaching for her towel. “But maybe if I’m feeling generous, you’ll get some spicy new photos before I come back. If you behave, that is."

"Don't I always?"

"Hardly, sweetie." Karina wraps her arms around your neck, leaning into you and smiling adoringly. "But that's what I like about you."

"Couldn't live without me, could you?"

"Absolutely not. Or your cock," she teases back at you, giving your hair this playful little tousle while she pulls you in for a deep, lasting kiss. And the way Karina looks in just a towel—well, you try not to think too much about it. 

"Okay, seriously. I need to get going now, or else I really will miss class. But maybe when I'm back—"

"Yeah?"

Karina cups your face and just stares for a moment, in deep thought, contemplating a thousand ideas. "I really am going to ride the fuck out of you. Maybe even tie you up again and make you beg like you never have before.” 

"Can't wait."

"Neither can I, sweetie. See you soon."

[kryllia]

Through His Eyes

Yandere boyfriend x reader

art from pinterest

Prequel

The first time you met Aiden, he felt like a breath of fresh air. His smile was soft, his words laced with sincerity, and his eyes—oh, those eyes—were warm pools of honey that seemed to melt away all your worries. He was perfect, almost too perfect, but you never dared question it. After all, wasn’t this what everyone wanted? Someone who understood you without words, someone who loved you so wholly and selflessly?

Aiden was the embodiment of devotion. He knew your coffee order by heart, memorized your class schedule within days, and always texted you right when it was needed most. If you were stressed after a long day, he’d already be waiting at the door with your favorite snacks and that soft, knowing smile. It was as if he could read your mind.

And in a way, he could.

But you didn’t know that yet.

It wasn’t until much later—much too late—that you realized Aiden wasn’t just attentive. He was obsessive.

Aiden sat in his dimly lit room, multiple monitors casting a faint bluish glow on his face. Each screen displayed a different angle of your apartment: the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. His eyes lingered on the feed from the bedroom camera as you shuffled under the covers, sighing softly before drifting off to sleep.

He sighed too, mirroring you from miles away.

“You look so peaceful like this,” he whispered to no one in particular, his finger tracing the outline of your face on the screen. “So beautiful... mine.”

His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his trance. It was the tracking app. You had left your phone on the nightstand, unmoving for the past hour. He smiled, knowing you were safe, knowing you were his.

You had always wondered how Aiden seemed to know everything so well. He’d always have your favorite song playing in his car, always know when illness was about to hit before symptoms even showed. It was... uncanny. But it felt good. It felt like love.

“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect?” you teased one evening, sitting across from him in a cozy cafe.

Aiden chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Perfect? Oh no, I just... pay attention to the things that matter.”

You.

It was always you.

The first red flag appeared on a rainy Thursday night. You had been at work late, phone dead, and bus delayed. When you finally got home, drenched and exhausted, Aiden was already there—waiting by the door, umbrella in hand.

“How did you...?” you stammered.

His smile didn’t waver. “You mentioned your shift would be longer today, remember? I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

You shrugged it off. Aiden was sweet. Too sweet to question.

But the nagging feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when you stumbled upon a small black device tucked discreetly behind a picture frame in your bedroom, that reality came crashing down.

A camera.

Your hands trembled as you held it up, your breaths shallow. Your mind raced as puzzle pieces began snapping into place: the perfectly timed texts, the way he always seemed to know where you were, the way he... watched.

Your phone buzzed.

Aiden: Are you okay, sweetheart? You seem upset.

The camera was still in your hand.

He knew.

When Aiden arrived at your apartment that night, his smile was softer than usual, his eyes alight with something... dangerous.

“You found it, didn’t you?” he said quietly, stepping into your space.

Your voice trembled. “Why, Aiden? Why would you—?”

“Because I love you,” he interrupted, his voice trembling with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. “Don’t you see? I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

His hand reached for yours, but you pulled away.

“You’re scaring me,” you whispered.

His expression crumbled, hurt flashing across his face. “No, no, please don’t say that. I’d never hurt you. I just... I just needed to be sure. I needed to keep you safe. They don’t love you like I do. They don’t understand you like I do.”

Tears welled in his eyes, but behind them, you saw something unhinged. Something feral.

“You don’t have to run from me,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

Your phone was in your hand now, your finger hovering over the emergency call button.

He saw it.

Aiden lunged.

-

Hours later, you woke up to the feeling of soft fabric against your cheek. You were lying on a plush bed in a room you didn’t recognize. The windows were covered, the air filled with the faint scent of lavender and... him.

Aiden.

You tried to sit up, but your wrists were bound with silken ropes—tight enough to hold you, soft enough not to bruise.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Aiden’s voice cooed from the corner of the room. He stepped into view, his face illuminated by the faint glow of a bedside lamp.

“You’re safe now. No one can take you away from me here.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I love you so much. You understand that, don’t you?”

His eyes glistened with something almost holy, like he truly believed every word he said.

In that moment, you realized one thing with chilling certainty:

You belonged to him now.

And he was never going to let go.

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.  

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.  

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”  

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.  

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”  

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”  

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.  

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”  

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”  

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”  

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”  

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.  

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.  

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.  

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.  

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.  

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”  

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.  

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”  

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”  

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”  

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”  

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.  

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.  

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.  

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.  

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.  

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.  

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.  

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.  

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.  

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”  

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.  

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”  

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”  

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”  

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.  

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”  

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”  

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.  

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.  

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”  

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.  

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.  

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.  

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.  

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.  

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.  

And it tore him apart.  

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.  

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.  

“Hey,” he called softly.  

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.  

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.  

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”  

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”  

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”  

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”  

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”  

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”  

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”  

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.  

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.  

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.  

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?  

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.  

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.  

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.  

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.  

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.  

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.  

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.  

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."  

You raised a brow. "Talk?"  

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."  

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.  

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.  

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."  

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."  

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."  

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.  

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."  

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.  

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."  

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.  

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."  

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.  

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."  

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.  

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."  

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."  

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.  

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."  

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.  

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.  

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

[tbaluver]

S/O With Depression- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader requested by: anonnie ⋆˚꩜｡ genre: comfort a/n: hihi lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i would like to mention that everyone has different types of depression and goes through different things! i wrote the ones i’m familar with and what the anonnie requested! what might be common for me or from the anonnie that requested can be completely different to someone else! if you want to see more then i’ll write a part 2! hopefully this brings some comfort to those that need it enjoy reading! <3 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Will do his best to be a light and source of comfort for you

Xavier would stay close when getting out of bed feels impossible. But if you needed space, he’d respect that, keeping you company from a small distance in bed to remind you that you’re not completely alone. He wouldn’t let you stay curled up in bed for too long. He’d gently carry you to the kitchen to make sure you’re fed.

On days when your words don’t come easily and your thoughts feel jumbled, he never interrupts or rushes you. He stays quiet, a hand on top of yours, nodding along while letting you speak at your own pace even if your sentences come out jumbled. Occasionally, he might ask a question to understand the context. When you do finish what you’ve needed to say, he’ll work through it together with you

If you were taking any medications, he’ll go through the entire packet and read through any information about it online. He’ll remember all the side effects that come with it and checks up on you whenever you take them

When every little sound starts to feel like it was too much, he draws the curtains and does everything he can to make it more peaceful. He moves carefully, no sudden sounds will be made in this household. Even the way he eats or shifts in his seat would become more gentler. If you were comfortable with it, Xavier would gather you into his arms, holding you close against his chest. His hand rest gently over your ear, blocking out whatever noise is left.

Xavier would offer to listen and be the place where you can let it out. But if it’s an unexplainable feeling that you just can’t put into words then he’ll find a different way to cheer you up. He’ll settle beside you, pulling up your favorite comfort shows and have your snacks ready

Zayne:

Whenever getting out of bed feels like too much, he’ll leave a warm cup of tea and a few slices of fruit or your favorite snacks by the bedside table. He never rushes you so he waits. Sometimes he’ll sit nearby so you don’t feel alone. Other times, he gives you the space you want, trusting that you’ll reach out when you’re ready. But when it starts to feel like too much and the silence grows too heavy, he will step in. Never forcefully. He’ll encourage you to start off slow, a hand on yours. Maybe something as simple as sitting up or maybe just brushing your teeth.

Anytime you went through a depressive episode, Zayne has no problem doing the extra housework or helping you with your physical health. He’ll help you shower, brush through your hair gently, and help brush your teeth. He’ll praise you for each small step you take

The type to send you reminders to take your meds at the right time and that you should eat something before you take them so you don’t get nauseous.

Zayne would understand and has never taken it personally when you don’t want to be touched. He doesn’t try to hug or reach for your hand. Instead, he makes space for you until you you’re comfortable once again

He can tell when you get sad randomly. Zayne would never force you to explain but he will always remind you if you want to talk, he’s there. Sometimes when it’s just a quiet ache sitting in you for no reason, he’ll also understand that. He’ll suggest a walk out for fresh air or just for a different scenery if you’ve been inside for too long.

When the smallest sounds can feel too much, he’ll make sure to move extra quietly. He’ll offer noise cancelling headphones to drown out any sounds. Any open windows will be closed and he’ll draw the curtains to keep the noise out. He’ll make sure to close any of the doors inside softly, silence his phone and pager and he’ll make sure to give you the space you need.

Sometimes the words just don’t come out right but Zayne would never rush you. He would always be patient, even when your voice shakes or when you pause for too long. And when you do finally get them out, no matter how jumbled or messy it sounds, he listens. Every single word and every detail. Once you said all you needed to say, that’s when he speaks and helps

Reminds you that he is always there for you. Even if he was busy at work and you know he can’t reach you right now, you can still message him. He reminds you to never hesitate to reach out, spam him, leave him voice messages. He’ll read through every word and detail and he’ll find time to immediately reach out to you

Rafayel:

You would never feel alone if Rafayel was by your side. Even if he was away from an art exhibition, he would text you throughout the day. If you need him by your side, then he’s finding an excuse to get out of work and find his way to you.

When you’re having a hard time getting out of bed, Rafayel would be by your side under the covers so you don’t feel alone. However if you continue to have a hard time, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. He’ll scoop you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He’ll start with something simple, like a warm bath since it can maybe cheer you up.

When every noise seems to bother you, he’ll make sure to move around quietly in the studio. He’ll close up the windows and doors so his seagull friends won’t bother you. He’ll even breathe more quietly so he doesn’t bother you. Rafayel would still stay nearby but gives you your space to make sure you’re not alone. He’ll wait until you’re ready to talk with him

Rafayel would never take it personally when you did not want to be touched but he definitely does get a little pouty about it behind your back. He just misses holding onto you but he understands and gives you the space you need.

Feeling sad randomly? Rafayel would never push you to explain what’s wrong but he encourages you that it’s good to let it out and that he’s always there for you. However, if it was unexplainable, he doesn’t make you feel weird about it. He’ll find ways to cheer you up as best as he can. He’ll pull up videos on his phone and you silly videos he found that might make you smile. He’ll even suggest a quiet walk by the beach just for a change of scenery and for some fresh air

Sometimes the right words just won’t come. They get lost somewhere between your thoughts but Rafayel has never once looked at you confused or has never been impatient. He watches you carefully, trying to understand your expression. Sometimes he finishes the sentences for you, not to interrupt but because he’s piecing it together with you. And if you grow frustrated, he offers to sketch it out with you.

Sylus:

On days when getting out of bed feels impossible, he stays beside you but he doesn’t let you stay there for too long. He understands the weight of it all but he will step in. First he’ll start with encouragement, asking you to sit up just for a bit. But if your limbs feel too heavy and your body refuses to move, he never gets frustrated. He’ll carry you in his arms. He’ll run you a warm bath and help bathe you. Later he’ll encourage you to do some small activities with him to get you a little motivated

He would never take it personally if you were not in the mood to be touched. There’s no wounded ego or disappointment. He gives you the space that you need until you are ready to curl up next to him again. He’ll make sure you were absolutely comfortable with it before he reaches back

Sylus would always give you the choice to talk or cry or let it out to him in whatever way you need. But if it’s those days where it’s just unexplainable, he doesn’t press on. Instead, he’ll offer distractions. He’ll pull out a new vinyl that he’s been saving for or maybe stepping out to a new scenery to get rid of whatever ache you have in your chest

When the world feels too loud and your thoughts won’t slow down, no matter how hard you try to explain to Sylus through hiccupped sobs, he doesn’t ask you to make sense of it. Instead, he pulls you into his arms. He doesn’t say much at first, his hand moves slowly up and down your back. He doesn’t need you to have the right words. He’ll listen, hiccupped sobs or not, to every detail you have to say. When your sobs begin to slow, when you start to breathe a little easier, he’s still there, helping you sort through the weight you've been carrying. It doesn’t matter if the problem is big or small. He’ll work them out with you together.

Luckily your shared bedroom is at the top floor to avoid any noises from the city. However if any noise continues to bother you, Sylus wouldn’t ask what’s wrong, he’ll just move around quietly as best as he can. He’ll stop playing any music on his record player unless you don’t want him too. He’ll make sure Luke and Kieran are not in the same building and he’ll make sure to mute Mephisto

Caleb:

Having a hard time getting out of bed? Caleb would give you the space you need, leaving you your favorite snacks and water by the bedside table with a cute little note and a doodle for you. He’ll check in on you often to see if you’ve eaten or just by ‘passing’ by the room. However if it does stretch on, he’ll kneel beside the bed and offer his hand, suggesting a few easy stretches. He’ll encourage just a small stretch for your arms and then legs next and then a small little walk to the kitchen where he has a little meal waiting in the kitchen just for you

As much as Caleb loves to hold you and have you in his arms, he would never be offended if you did not want to be touched. He would never hover and never pressure you. He gives you all the space and time you need when you’re comfortable again

Feeling sad out of nowhere? He would be SO worried, it would be written all over his face. His first instinct is to check in, offering to let you vent out if you need to. He’s always been a good listener. If it just feels unexplainable and you can’t quite name the reason, then he’ll find ways to cheer you up. Caleb would curl up with you and pull up your favorite comfort shows or movies. Or he’ll bring you your favorite snack or make your favorite dish that you love. And of course, he offers his signature big bear hug.

If any sounds were bothering you, he’d make sure to not make a single sound in the house. No loud footsteps in the halls, no clinking dishes, you name it. He’d even go as far as making sure no plane flies in the direction over your home to make sure you get the peace you need.

Sometimes you can’t get the right words to come out and Caleb would be patient with you the entire time. He lets you speak and lets you take all the time you need to get it out. His hand rests on yours, his thumb traces slow, soothing circles over your knuckles as he reads your expressions carefully. If any tears come out from frustration, he cups your face with so much care and wipes away any stray tears.

ʚɞ cr. for the divider @/ cafekitsune

ʚɞ 𝘕𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯:

ʚɞ my other works if you want to check it out! The Love And DeepSpace Masterlist, Pg. 2

ʚɞ Others:

Wattpad ( still updating it rn )

twitter @/ tbaluverr but idk how to use twitter </3

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 

You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 

Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 

You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 

An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.

Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 

Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.

“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.

“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.

Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.

That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.

Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.

As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”

Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.

But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.

Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."

In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.

The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.

Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.

“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 

His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”

Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.

He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."

Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."

Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 

Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 

That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 

You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 

Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 

By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"

Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.

“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”

Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.

Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 

That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.

His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”

Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.

“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”

There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.

He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”

[lillymmb]

"Ferrari and married"

husband!lewis hamilton x wife!reader

warnings: none

summary: your husband lewis reveal in his first 2025 ferrari interview that he's a married man now.

It was a bright and crisp morning in 2025, and the atmosphere around the Ferrari garage was electric. The team had just revealed their new car, and the buzz in the air was contagious. Lewis Hamilton, fresh off his first practice session as a Ferrari driver, was seated at the press conference table. His new red Ferrari jacket, emblazoned with the iconic prancing horse logo, fit him perfectly. He had always been a master at handling the media, his calm demeanor and charisma shining through with every answer.

The cameras flashed, the reporters scribbled notes, and the usual questions about the car, the team, and the season were tossed his way. But then came the question that stopped him in his tracks.

"So, Lewis," a journalist began, adjusting their microphone. "We’ve been hearing a lot about your personal life lately, especially with rumors about a certain someone being close to you. Can you tell us a bit more about your girlfriend? And is she here with you today?"

A small smile tugged at the corners of Lewis' lips. He’d known the question was coming, but he’d been dreading it just the same. He glanced toward the door of the press room, as if waiting for something—or rather, someone. His heart skipped a beat as he spotted you walking in. Your presence made the room feel warmer, brighter, like the calm after a storm. You gave him a soft smile, your eyes sparkling with love and support.

“Actually,” Lewis began, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of excitement, “she’s right there.” He gestured to you, his gaze never leaving your face. “And I’m really happy to announce something today.”

The room fell silent, everyone leaning in, eager to hear what he would say next. A few reporters exchanged curious glances, their pens poised to write down whatever came next.

“I’ve got some news,” Lewis continued, a grin now spreading across his face. “You all know I’ve been in a long-term relationship with someone amazing. And I’m excited to tell you that... we actually got married.”

Gasps and whispers filled the room, and the cameras flashed in a frenzy as reporters scrambled to capture the moment. The journalists were stunned, but Lewis just looked at you, his eyes softening with adoration.

You blushed, walking closer to him as he stood up. “Lewis, you didn’t have to tell them all that today,” you said with a playful smile, though your heart was racing with happiness.

But Lewis only shrugged, a look of pure joy on his face. “I wanted to. Everyone’s been so supportive of me throughout my career, and I’ve always kept my personal life a little more private. But it felt like the right time to share this with all of you.”

He turned to face the crowd again. “I’m really excited for this new chapter in my life—both professionally and personally. I have the best partner in the world, and I’m grateful for every moment we’ve shared. And I can’t wait to have her by my side through this next journey with Ferrari.”

The room was filled with applause, but it was the quiet smile between you two that stole the show. In that moment, it didn’t matter that the press room was buzzing or that cameras were still flashing. What mattered was the quiet certainty in your eyes as you looked at each other—two souls in perfect harmony.

The journalist who had asked the question spoke again, slightly in awe. “So, you’re officially married. That’s incredible. How does it feel to be a Ferrari driver... and a married man?”

Lewis chuckled, running a hand through his hair, still looking at you with affection. “It feels amazing. Ferrari is a dream come true, and having Y/n by my side makes everything even more special. We’ve been through a lot together, and now this... It’s the beginning of a whole new chapter.”

Another reporter raised their hand. “Do you have plans for a celebration? Or is it more of a private thing?”

“Well, you know us,” Lewis replied with a wink. “We like to keep things low-key. But we’re definitely planning something with close friends and family. It’ll be perfect.”

Your heart swelled with warmth as you watched him speak so openly about your love, about your relationship. It wasn’t always easy being in the spotlight, but moments like this made it all worth it. You’d always been there for each other, and now, here you were—married, sharing your joy with the world.

As the press conference wrapped up, Lewis turned to you, his hand finding yours. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Absolutely,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “Let’s get out of here and celebrate.”

With that, the two of you left the press room together, the new chapter of your lives just beginning. The world was watching, but for once, it felt like it was just the two of you—together, forever.

a/n: ferrari lewis fanfic bc im so proud of him in this new chapter!

© LILLYMMB do not repost and do not copy!

[kunareads]

if i believe you | chapter six

i did not come to bring peace

clan head!satoru x reader

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

wc: 7.5k (sorry)

a/n: my own open wound is splattered all over this chapter. i promise i will stop torturing them soon i'm very sorry. if you see a typo please tell me i did proofread but the chapter is long!

content: angst again :D panic attack, religious trauma, internalized shame, hurt/comfort but not really.

INTERACT HERE FOR TAGLIST!

18+ please <3

satoru is in a good mood today. he woke up before the sun with the kind of lazy satisfaction that stretches into everything, making even a morning in the main estate feel manageable.

business is business, but it’s easier to handle with the warmth of last night’s kiss still thrumming under his skin. and, admittedly, with the thought of seeing you later.

he’s restless with it. this need to see you, to be near to you, to find some excuse to talk to you like he’s not supposed to be doing anything else. maybe he’ll bring you something from the market. fresh fruit, your favorite snacks. maybe flowers, if he feels like showing off. just to see that smile you’ve been trying so hard to hide from him.

he likes giving you things.

but the thought comes with a flicker of something quieter. even now, you hesitate. your fingers hover a little too long before you accept anything he offers. like you’re still deciding if you’re allowed to take what he so freely gives.

but it’s getting better. he sees it in the way your hands shake less and your voice sounds more like you.

he wonders if you’ve been thinking about last night the way he is. if you’re turning it over in your mind, wondering what it means. wondering if it’s okay to want more.

his lips twitch. he’ll show you soon enough.

but then the knock comes.

“come in.”

the servant’s face is pale, mouth pressed into a line that can’t quite hide their unease. “the lady’s parents have arrived, sir. they’re waiting in the main hall.”

his mood shatters. it’s an effort not to crumple the paper in his hand, the edges already curling under his fingertips.

no warning. no notice. they’re just here.

he’s grateful for his blindfold, because whatever’s written across his face right now would probably turn the poor boy in front of him to stone.

they didn’t send word because they wanted to catch him off guard. more importantly, they wanted to catch you off guard. see things for themselves. see you without the safety net of preparation.

the irritation that simmers in his chest is almost comforting, familiar in a way he doesn’t want to admit. but it’s laced with something else.

fear.

because you’ve only just started to feel safe here, with him.

he’s out of his seat before he realizes, striding through the halls with a purpose that feels instinctual—the sudden need to confront them where they are rather than have them brought to him like guests.

because they’re not guests. they’re intruders.

the main hall feels colder than usual when he reaches it. they stand like they own the fucking place—your mother poised, her back too straight, hands clasped in front of her in a show of her own composure. your father, stiff beside her, eyes sweeping the room with the kind of scrutiny that sets satoru’s teeth on edge.

they’re looking for faults, for signs of neglect, for anything they can hold against you.

he schools his expression into something controlled, forces his voice into something polite but not welcoming. “i wasn’t expecting you.”

“clearly,” your mother replies, not even trying to disguise her disapproval. “i would have expected our daughter to be the one greeting us.”

“she’s busy.”

his voice is flat, sharp around the edges. he knows it’s a mistake the second it’s out, but he won’t take it back.

your mother’s gaze narrows, a subtle shift, but he catches it all the same. “i see,” she says, and it’s the kind of thing that sounds like an agreement but isn’t.

his patience is wearing thin. he can feel frustration boiling under his skin, hot and restless. the same anger he’s felt since a child for people who think they know better. who measure worth in posture and tone and obedience. who think they’ll just show up here and find their daughter exactly as they left her.

“i’ll have you brought to her shortly,” he says. “in the meantime, you can wait here.”

your mother’s mouth twitches like she’s biting back something unpleasant. your father barely looks at him, his gaze shifting toward the door as if he’s done assessing the room and found it lacking.

satoru doesn’t wait for a reply. he turns on his heel and leaves, storm already building inside him as he makes his way to your home.

he’s moving too quickly, steps too sharp as he stalks down the pathway and into the house. the staff who pass him keep their heads down—some out of respect, others out of caution. a few glance up with careful eyes, but he doesn’t acknowledge them like he normally would. he can’t. not when his mind is already running circles around what’s about to happen.

what he’s about to ruin.

he tries to pull himself out of it, tries to focus on anything but the exasperation winding around his chest. but it’s impossible not to notice you scattered around the house.

a neatly folded shawl draped over the arm of the couch. a half-finished cup of tea on the windowsill, abandoned this morning. a book open on the table—one he gave you—its spine gently cracked, a frayed ribbon marking where you left off.

you’ve been making this place your own.

he sees it now, all the quiet proof that you’ve been settling in, letting yourself be here in a way you hadn’t before. and they’re here to unravel it. to remind you of the version of yourself you’ve only just begun to shed.

his hands curl into fists, nails biting into his palms.

he shouldn’t be this angry. shouldn’t be this desperate to keep you from shrinking into that quiet, docile silence you wore like armor. but he is, because he’s seen what you look like when you smile without thinking, when your hands move freely, when you look him in the eye.

and he wants that for you. more than he knows how to say.

he’s almost at the door when he hears it—quiet humming drifting through an open window.

he stops.

his irritation stills, displaced by something softer rising in its place.

you’re in the garden.

── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢

the sun is climbing high, the air thick with warmth and the scent of soil. your back is sore, there’s dirt under your nails, and your clothes are wrinkled beyond saving—but you feel good, peaceful. the kind of peace you’ve been slowly learning how to hold.

no one’s watching, no one’s standing over your shoulder, pointing out your mistakes. it’s just you and the plants you’ve been coaxing into something alive.

you’ve been thinking about last night. about satoru—how much you learned about him, how gently he listened to you. the feel of his lips, the way his fingers threaded so carefully through your hair. the way he looked at you, bright and quiet and almost reverent.

the memory comes with a small thrill, your cheeks going warm and your chest tightening.

you want to kiss him again.

you want to kiss him without feeling clumsy or uncertain. and you want him to kiss you, too.

it’s a quiet realization, but it’s not shameful. it feels nice.

you didn’t know this feeling existed.

maybe that’s why you’ve been out here so long. because the idea of seeing him makes you a little dizzy.

you sink your hands back into the soil, your fingers finding the stems of new growth. you let yourself feel happy.

“hey.”

the greeting startles you. your head snaps up, eyes landing on satoru at the entrance of the garden. his hair glows white under the sun, his expression unreadable under his blindfold, but familiar all the same.

a smile rises before you can help it, instinctive and unguarded. “satoru.”

he takes steps carefully down the stone pathway toward you, and for a split second, you think he’s going to smile back. he reaches out instead, his thumb tracing a line just below your eye. the touch is light, like he’s trying not to startle you. like he’s capturing something before it slips away.

“you’ve got dirt on your face,” he murmurs, brushing it away. and he doesn’t smile.

“is something wrong?” you ask. it’s concern, not yet panic.

“we have visitors,” he says carefully.

your stomach lurches. “visitors?”

“your parents,” he says, his voice steady, cautious—the same way it was the night you tried to offer yourself to him like some kind of penance. “they came unannounced. i came to tell you before they—”

the rest dissolves into white noise.

your parents. here.

the warmth you’ve been holding onto drains out of you as last night rises in your throat again, bitter now. you wonder if they’ll know. if your mother will look at you and see failure written across your skin.

you’re itchy all of a sudden. your clothes cling too tight. you’re covered in dirt and sweat, sleeves rolled, skirt stained from kneeling in the soil. far removed from the woman you’re supposed to be. the one they raised you to be.

“they weren’t supposed to come yet. i thought—i haven’t prepared anything.”

you’ve missed your parents in a complicated way. but missing them doesn’t mean you forgot. it was only a few weeks ago that you were under their roof, measured by their expectations, falling short even when everything was perfect.

and you know—even if your home is perfect and satoru is perfect and the staff are perfect—it won’t be enough.

even knowing they’d come eventually didn’t prepare you for the way your breath shrinks in your lungs.

your eyes flit around the tangled greenery, the leaves and petals and creeping vines. wild, uneven, full of life.

“she can’t see this.” your voice almost breaks. “it would embarrass her.”

satoru’s expression doesn’t change. “i can tell them to leave.”

you blink. “what?”

“you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” his voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it. “i can just make them leave.”

“they came all this way.”

“does that mean you owe them something?”

the words come out sharper than he means, frustration slipping through before he can stop it. he catches himself almost immediately. “you don’t have to see them just because they showed up,” he says, gentler now. “they can wait, or they can go. up to you.”

you shake your head. “they’re my parents.”

you don’t know what else to say. you can’t find the words to explain to him that it’s not that simple. that it’s not just about what they want—it’s what you owe. to them. to god. to the name you carry—carried? that you have to fit neatly into their expectations, even when you don’t know how. and that you don’t know how to unlearn that.

and you know—you know—that he would send them away if you asked him to. he’d do it without hesitation.

and for one aching, impossible moment, you want to let him. want to let him take you inside, shut the door, and pretend they were never here.

but they are.

and breathing feels like running underwater, the air thick and wrong and unwelcome.

“i’ll go,” you say, and it doesn’t even sound like your voice. your shoulders slump, the weight of obligation settling over you like it was never gone. it’s easier, in some terrible way, to fall back into the role they gave you than it is to fight it.

satoru’s eyes are still on you, searching, hoping. but whatever he’s looking for, he doesn’t find it.

he leaves you to clean yourself up, though stepping away from you makes his own discomfort twist tighter. the guilt starts immediately. he sends for your parents to be brought to the house, and the moment the words leave his mouth, he regrets it.

it feels like surrender. it feels like giving them permission to step back into your life and rip up everything you’ve only just started building.

the house feels too small once he’s back inside. every corner is loud with silence. his movements are sharp, mechanical, driven by restless dread.

he goes around collecting the scattered remnants of your morning. he picks up the shawl from the couch, puts it away even though he hopes it’ll be back where it was tomorrow. takes your cup from the windowsill, the tea cold now, and places it gently in the sink. finds your book and slides it back onto the shelf.

he’s making himself sick with it, this impulse to make everything perfect before they arrive. to beat their judgement.

he knows that’s what you’re doing, too. scrubbing the dirt from your skin and smoothing your hair and changing into something stiff and clean. erasing the version of you they haven’t approved.

the version he’s come to like best.

it shouldn’t fucking matter. it shouldn’t matter what they think.

but it does, and it makes him want to throw something.

he wants to find you, to tell you again that you don’t have to do this. that he’ll take care of everything. that he’ll take care of you.

but it’s not what you want.

so instead, he drags his hand over his face and forces himself to keep moving. straightening. waiting. every motion a quiet act of helplessness.

── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢

you can feel satoru’s presence even when you can’t see him. the sound of his footsteps as he moves through the house. the low murmur of his voice when he instructs the staff to bring your parents over from the main estate. the quiet when he settles just outside your door, waiting but not knocking.

everything feels too loud. too sudden. you smooth your hands down your front, try to fix your hair, to twist a stray strand into place. your fingers won’t stop shaking. and no matter what you do, you’re never going to be what they expect.

by the time you open the door, your pulse is in your throat. satoru catches the tremble in your hands. of course he does.

“ready?” he asks, quiet.

you nod. it’s a lie.

he watches you a moment longer, like he’s weighing the cost of pushing. like he wants to say there’s still time to say no. but when you start walking, he falls into step beside you.

the hallway feels endless.

your heartbeat thrums in your ears, louder than your footsteps. the air feels thinner with every breath. you imagine this is what it’s like to stand at the edge of a cliff.

you step into the room first. satoru stays just behind you, but your mother’s eyes are already on you—sweeping over your appearance with detached precision.

“darling,” she says, her voice cool and measured. not unkind, but not warm, either. “you should have been the one to greet us. it’s only proper.”

the words land like barbs, small and sharp. you’d expected hello, how are you. something human.

you force yourself to stand a little straighter. “i was—” your throat tightens. “i didn’t know you were coming.”

she hums, a soft sound that manages to feel like disapproval. your father, silent beside her, gives nothing away.

satoru’s presence is steady at your side, a subtle heat against your shoulder.

“it’s nice to see you both,” you offer, stiff and formal. the words feel borrowed from someone else’s idea of a daughter.

“likewise,” your father replies. his tone is even, but it bites anyway. “we were beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about us.”

the implication cuts deeper than it should. like getting married was some kind of betrayal. like you leaving home to come here wasn’t something they arranged. like the distance you’ve kept is a failing—not a survival.

you hear satoru draw a breath, his jaw ticking.

“why don’t we sit,” he says. “you’ve traveled a long way. you must be tired.”

your mother nods, but her gaze stays locked on you, heavy and expectant, like she’s waiting for you to justify yourself.

the seating arrangement feels like a trap. your mother perches on the edge of her chair across from you, posture flawless, hands folded in her lap. your father sits beside her, arms crossed, eyes flicking between you and satoru like he’s waiting for something to disappoint him. and satoru settles close beside you, his knee brushing yours—an anchor, even now.

“it’s a lovely house,” your mother says, but the tone is wrong. the kind of false pleasantry that leaves you bracing for the blow that follows. “though i must admit, i was surprised to find you so removed from the main estate. i would have thought your duties would keep you closer to the clan.”

your fingers twist in your lap, the fabric of your skirt crumpling beneath your grip. “it’s easier this way.”

“easier?” she echoes, the words clipped. her eyes narrow just enough to make your skin prickle. “i do hope you’re not neglecting your responsibilities for the sake of convenience.”

the way she says it knots your throat. and then she looks at you—really looks, scanning for fractures like she always does—and the judgement in her eyes makes your stomach drop.

“you look sick,” she says. “are you not eating properly?”

“i’m fine,” you answer, too fast and too small. “i’ve been… i’ve been adjusting.”

“adjusting,” she repeats, drawing the word out like it offends her. “i suppose that’s understandable. but you’ve been here for weeks. surely you’ve settled in by now.”

“maybe we should let her breathe,” satoru cuts in, his voice calm but threaded with something dangerous. “she’s been doing just fine. more than fine, actually.”

your mother’s gaze snaps to him. irritation crosses her features, mostly concealed, but you feel it, the same way you feel the tension crackle through satoru beside you.

“i appreciate your concern, but i’m her mother. it’s only natural to concern myself with her well-being.”

“and i’m her husband.” his smile is sharp. not friendly. not performative. it’s the kind that wouldn’t meet his eyes if you could see them. “i’d think that makes her well-being my concern, too.”

you can feel the heat rising between them, a low, simmering standoff. and you know satoru’s words aren’t meant as a reassurance. they’re a challenge, meant to draw lines rather than bridge them.

your father’s gaze drops to your hands, still clutching your skirt. “it’s good to know you take your responsibilities seriously,” he says to satoru. “but as her parents, it’s our duty to ensure she’s not neglecting hers. especially now that her role has… expanded.”

the implication is clear. and your heart sinks at the realization of what’s next.

“we haven’t heard any news of children,” your mother says smoothly. “surely you’ve been attending to the matter. it is your purpose, after all.”

your throat closes. you can’t speak, can’t even lift your head. because all you can think about is how you failed. how you offered yourself to satoru on your wedding night, like a task to be completed, and he’d turned you away.

how you’ve been letting him indulge you with stupid pleasures like that stupid kiss, and you still have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing, how you’re supposed to—

“maybe some things take time,” satoru says, his deceptively calm tone slicing through your thoughts.

your mother doesn’t miss a beat. “and maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

her words are a blade, clean and cruel. the accusation is so sharp, so pointed, that you feel your eyes sting with the effort it takes to keep your composure. your hands tremble harder, your fingers grasping the fabric of your skirt so tightly that your knuckles hurt.

satoru’s jaw clenches, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. his hand curls into a fist against his knee. he keeps glancing your way, searching for something. permission, maybe. protest. anything.

and you want to say something. god, you want to speak. to shout, to scream, to tell them they’re wrong.

but the words won’t come.

they’re lodged deep in your chest, pinned under every expectation you’ve ever failed to meet. your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. your gaze drops to the floor.

it’s easier not to see their faces.

“it is your duty to bear children,” your father says. the words are quiet. impersonal. “i hope you haven’t been… distracted from that duty.”

his eyes flick toward satoru—just for a second—but it’s enough. an accusation without teeth, because he knows the balance of power here. but it cuts anyway.

satoru goes very still beside you, and his next words are lower, laced with warning. “and i hope you haven’t forgotten that she’s a person,” he says. “one living under my roof, under my care, may i add.”

his voice lingers in the room like smoke. and you can’t quite breathe around it.

because all you can feel is the guilt spreading through you—thick, acidic, impossible to shake. it curls in your chest, taking on a shape that feels familiar.

you’ve carried it your whole life.

your father rises from his seat with a quiet authority, eyes flicking to satoru. “i’d like to have a word with you. privately,” he says, and there’s something final about it—not a request, but a summons.

you glance at satoru, searching for reassurance as he nods. his expression is tight, his shoulders squared. but you catch the silent, aching apology buried under the tension in his jaw.

and then he’s gone. and the room feels colder without him.

you’re left alone with your mother, and in an instant, you’re fourteen again. small and silent across from her, waiting for whatever strategic correction she’s decided you need.

“your husband has a sharp tongue,” she says, her voice cool and condescending. “but i suppose that’s to be expected, given his… upbringing.”

you recognize the tone. it’s the one she’d use when explaining why you weren’t allowed to play with certain children. why some people weren’t raised right. she’s drawing a line again—this time between you and the man you married. the one they gave you to.

the contradiction makes your head ache.

“he’s been good to me,” you say. it’s the truth, but the words come out sound too soft.

she hums. “is this what you want?” the question cuts deep. “to live like this? away from the clan, from what i raised you to be?”

you want to say yes. you want to scream it. yes, i like the quiet. yes, i like the freedom. yes, i like being here with him.

but your voice snags on thorns, raw and helpless.

“i—i’m trying, mom,” you whisper. “i’m doing my best.”

“i certainly hope so,” she says. and somehow, the disappointment hurts more than her disapproval. “because from where i’m sitting, it doesn’t look like you are.”

the words settle into you like ice.

and then, like nothing happened, her tone softens. her gaze shifts. the performance begins.

“your father and i have been praying for you,” she says. “we’ve been asking god to guide you in your duties. to help you fulfill the purpose you were given.”

and just like that, the guilt swallows you.

you want to cry.

“i want you to have this.”

she reaches for something hidden in the folds of her sleeve. a necklace. ornate, heavy-looking, the gold glinting in the light with a soft gleam that feels wrong. the kind of thing intended for a velvet display, not a body.

she holds it out to you. you don’t reach for it.

“i had it made for you,” she continues, her tone tender now. like this is kindness. “a symbol of your devotion. a reminder of who you are and where you belong.”

the weight of it is crushing before you even touch it. the pendant is a cross, carved with precise, elaborate craftsmanship, rubies set into the center like droplets of blood. it must have taken hours—days—to make. each detail is perfect, intentional.

your fingers tremble as you take it from her, the metal chilling your skin. it doesn’t feel like a gift. it feels like a chain. like a collar.

“thank you,” you whisper. not because you mean it, but because there’s the alternative is unthinkable. because refusal was never part of the script. because the nausea crawling up your throat is something she taught you to swallow down.

tears burn at the back of your eyes, but you don’t let her see them. you know better than that.

“pray on it,” she says softly. “and remember your duty. remember who you belong to.”

you nod.

because the words are meant to be kind. you know they are. and somehow, that only makes it worse.

── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢ ・── ⟢

the rest of the visit feels like wading through cold water. conversations continue in that strained, brittle way you’ve come to expect. your father’s voice is curt, his eyes on you like you’re a ledger he’s reconciling. your mother’s comments are softened by false concern, the veneer of kindness stretched so thin you think it’ll crack.

satoru’s silence is worse.

he’s tight as a bowstring beside you, his frustration held on a leash. he speaks when spoken to, his responses short and neutral. you keep waiting for him to break—please, a part of you whispers, just say something—but he never does. for your sake, probably.

the goodbyes are stiff.

your mother presses a kiss to your cheek that feels more like a benediction than affection, her fingers cold and firm against your skin. your father gives you a nod—nothing more—like you’re a stranger he’s being forced to acknowledge.

they’re escorted back to the main estate where the car waits.

you and satoru stand in front of the house as the trees swallow the last of their silhouettes. he hasn’t moved, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest.

when they’re finally out of sight, he exhales. “they’re gone,” he says, voice flat. like it should mean something.

you nod, your eyes fixed on the empty path. the breeze stirs the trees, but everything feels still. your lungs won’t expand.

“are you… okay?”

you flinch at the question. not because it’s unfair, but because it’s valid.

and because the answer is no. you’re not okay. not even close. and him asking only makes the ache feel sharper.

“i need a moment,” you say, the words coming out too tight. “alone, please.”

the flash of hurt on his face is almost enough to make you take it back. almost.

“alright,” he says quietly. his hands flex once, then go still.

you don’t say anything else. you can’t.

instead, you turn and walk away, your steps heavy. and even though you don’t look back, you can feel him watching you all the way to the front door.

you don’t exhale until it closes behind you.

satoru watches you leave, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth hurt.

he lets you go because he doesn’t know what else to do. he wants to follow, wants to tear their words out of your head before they can take hold—but you asked for space, and he’s trying to give it.

it doesn’t make it any easier.

the house feels oppressive when he steps back inside. his frustration presses against his chest, restless and sharp, until he’s pacing—through the sitting room, past the kitchen and back again, around the main garden. his fingers twitch with the need to do something. anything.

but all he can think about is the way you looked when you asked to be alone. like he was just another weight dragging you under. like he was part of the problem.

it’s only when his pacing takes him past your bedroom door that he finally stops. something tells him not to open it. something else—louder, more desperate—won’t let him walk away.

his hand hovers just above the frame before he pushes the door open.

you’re on the floor, curled beside the bed. knees drawn to your chest, shoulders hunched like you’re trying to disappear. the necklace gleams in your palm, catching the dim light, too heavy and cruel for something so finely made.

you don’t look up.

“hey.” his voice is too small for the amount of space between you.

silence.

“i thought you’d be in the garden,” he tries, stepping in carefully. “but i guess not.”

your fingers tighten around the pendant. “didn’t feel like it.”

it’s the way you say it—flat, detached—that freezes something in him.

you’re drifting. pulling away from him even though he’s right here. and he doesn’t know how to bring you back.

he swallows hard, the helplessness thick in his throat. he would do anything to undo what they’ve done. to take every word they left behind and burn it until you never have to think about it again.

but all he can do is stand there. reaching for you without moving. wanting to fix what he doesn’t know how to touch.

and it makes him feel like a stranger in his own home. like a boy in a man’s skin. like the one thing that should come easy—loving you—is slipping through his fingers.

“can i sit?” he asks.

you nod without looking at him.

he lowers himself beside you, movements slow as if he’s trying not to disturb the silence. “you haven’t… said anything,” he tries, his voice too careful. “since they left.”

“there’s nothing to say,” you whisper. your voice is worn out, too thin.

silence stretches again. the longer it goes, the more it scrapes at him. minutes pass like hours, and satoru can feel it—frustration clawing beneath his skin, helplessness piling on top of it. he’s losing you. right here, right in front of him.

“come on, angel,” satoru says, his voice soft now, rough edges smoothed over by something almost pleading. “talk to me, please.” his voice catches on the last word, and he hates how desperate it feels. “you’ve barely looked at me since they got here.”

you flinch. the necklace slips from your hands and lands in your lap.

“i don’t know what you want me to say.”

he hesitates. then lets the frustration bleed out.

“i want you to say they’re wrong.”

the words come out harsh, too blunt. but it’s the truth. and now that it’s out, he’s not sure how to stop himself.

“i want you to realize what they think doesn’t matter. that you’re—”

“stop.” your voice cuts clean through his. trembling, but clear. “just stop. you don’t understand.”

his chest hurts. “make me understand.”

the challenge in his voice feels reckless. too much edge, too much need. still, he can’t back down. not when you’re slipping further away with every second.

“you heard what they said.” your voice frays at the edges. “about… duty. about children. and they’re right. i’m not—” you stop to swallow, but it’s like your throat is closing around the words. “i’m not doing what i’m supposed to do. i’m failing you.”

satoru knows what it feels like to be stabbed clean through the chest, but this feels worse. like the blade is poisoned. he wants to argue, but the look on your face stops him cold. you’re not arguing. you’re breaking.

“why would you even think that?” he asks, his voice smaller now, irritation replaced with something closer to panic.

“because i was supposed to get this right.” you won’t look at him. won’t meet his eyes. “i was supposed to… to handle my responsibility. and i haven’t. i—” your breathing hiccups, your chest shaking under the weight of it. “you’re supposed to have a dependable wife. someone who can give you what you need. and you’re stuck with me.”

he doesn’t think you’re aware of what you’re doing. of how you’re gutting him.

“you’re not—” he starts, but it comes out too rough. he pulls back, breathes through it, tries again. “you’re not some thing to be used or traded.”

his voice breaks on thing. he hates it. hates how clear it is that you believe it’s all you are.

he shifts closer, his voice thick. “you’re a person. my person now.”

the words echo between you, quiet but heavy, and he watches as something crumbles in your expression.

“then why didn’t you just—” you swallow hard. “why didn’t you do what you were supposed to do the night we got married?”

the question feels like a slap to the face. for once, satoru is speechless.

“what?”

“you should’ve done what a husband does,” you say, and it’s not just hurt in your voice anymore—it’s something bitter, something that burns him. “you should’ve taken what was yours. that’s what you were supposed to do. it’s what they wanted, what they expected. what i expected. and if you cared, you wouldn’t keep… holding yourself back.”

his pulse kicks up. his chest tightens.

he thought he understood. thought he was ready for the venom your parents would bring back into your life. but this isn’t theirs.

this is you. your voice, your pain. and it’s laced with something he didn’t expect—misunderstanding.

“i didn’t—” he tries to answer, but the words catch, rough and misshapen. “i didn’t do anything because you didn’t want that. you didn’t even know what you were asking for.”

“you don’t know what i wanted.” the words spill out like poison, like they’ve been festering for weeks. “i offered. i offered myself to you, and you told me to go to sleep. you didn’t want me.”

he realizes, too late, that you never understood why he said no that night. it made perfect sense to him, something that didn’t even need explaining. you were scared. uncertain. so he told you to sleep.

but now he sees what it looked like from the other side. not care, but rejection. not safety, but shame.

and it hurts.

your voice breaks, high and strained as you continue. “you still don’t want me. you’re just… humoring me, trying to be kind when i’m clearly not worth it. and it’s humiliating, satoru.”

your eyes are welling up, your lashes wet with the weight of everything you’ve been holding, everything that’s finally spilling over.

the sight tears something open in him.

“you really think that’s why i turned you down?” he whispers, hoarse. ”because i didn’t want you?”

you don’t answer right away. your lips part, then press together again, like you’re trying to swallow back the worst of it.

“i don’t know,” you admit, your voice trembling. “i just know i’ve been trying to be good. trying not to make anything harder than it has to be. and it’s not enough. not for them, not for you—”

you pause, breath catching.

“—not even for me.”

he reaches for you before he can stop himself. his hand wraps around your wrist, warm and steady, but there’s a tremor in it. something frantic.

“you’re not failing me.” his words come rushed, clumsy, because he’s never been good at this. never been good at making sense when it matters. “you’re—you’re everything.”

a harsh, broken sound tears from your throat, and it hits him like a dagger. his grip loosens on instinct, but he doesn’t let go. he can’t.

“if i was everything,” you choke out, voice cracking like glass under pressure, “you’d actually—you’d actually want me. you wouldn’t be wasting hours in the garden with me and kissing me like it’s all you need and pitying me.”

he can’t even comprehend the words. not at first. he just stares, stunned, mouth parting uselessly—because you’re crying now, really crying, and he’s the one making it worse.

“i need you to stop it, satoru,” you whisper, your voice too small for the weight of the words. “just—just stop.”

he’s fucking this up.

the realization sinks in slow.

no matter what he says, it’s not helping. it’s just making you hurt worse.

your shoulders are curled in like you’re trying to protect yourself from something he can’t see. a curse he can’t fight.

“i’m not—” your words trip and stumble, barely holding together. “i’m not what you need. not what anyone needs. and they’re right. they’re right about me, and you just—” you gasp for air, but it doesn’t seem to help. ”you won’t admit it.”

“that’s not—” he tries, but his voice gives out. the words collapse in his mouth before they can make it to you.

you’re not even looking at him anymore. your eyes are fixed somewhere past him, blank and distant, like you’re bracing for a blow.

“it’s not enough,” you rasp. “i’m not enough. i keep trying and it’s—” you cut yourself off with another gasp, your chest rising too fast. “it’s not working. i don’t know how to be what they want. i don’t even know how to be what you want.”

“angel, you need to—”

“stop calling me that.”

the words are a blade. sharp and cold and final. satoru’s mouth snaps closed.

“stop acting like i’m some perfect precious thing when you don’t even—when you won’t even—”

your voice breaks completely.

he watches your chest rise and fall like it’s too much effort to keep the air in your lungs. and suddenly, he’s not angry anymore. not even frustrated. he’s scared.

you’re slipping.

“hey. hey—” his own voice is cracking now, his panic bubbling up alongside yours.

but you’re shaking your head, lips pressed tightly together, and he can see the tears streaking down your cheeks. your hands are clutching each other, your body curling tighter with each breath that stays just out of reach.

“just breathe for me, okay?” he pleads, moving closer. “please, just—just breathe. you’re alright.”

he’s reaching for something solid in the chaos, fumbling over comfort because it’s a language he never learned. nothing’s working. nothing is working.

and then he sees it—really sees it. the panic in your eyes. the way your nails bite into your palms. the necklace still glinting in your lap like a burden. every piece of you bursting at the seams.

“i’m sorry,” you gasp. “i’m sorry i’m not—that i can’t—”

he moves before he can think.

his arms wrap around you in one motion, pulling you tight into his chest, anchoring you to him like it’s the only thing he has left.

“i got you,” he murmurs, over and over, the panic in his own chest dulling under your weight. “it’s okay, you’re okay.”

your fingers twist in his clothes. your breath comes in uneven gasps against his chest, and satoru can feel each one like it’s scraping against his ribs. still, he doesn’t loosen his grip. doesn’t let up for a second.

he keeps talking because it’s all he can do. his voice is low and steady, a soft rhythm meant to keep you tethered. “everything’s fine,” he murmurs. “it’s just us right now, nothing else matters. just breathe, angel. in and out.”

he feels your breath catch against him, feels your tears soaking into his shirt. you’re falling apart in his arms, and all he can do is hold on. his hand moves in slow circles along your back, a motion that grounds the both of you.

but it’s killing him.

because this isn’t what he wanted. he didn’t want to see you like this. he didn’t want his arms to be the place you broke.

his own eyes sting. there’s pressure behind them, sharp and unbearable, and he has to blink it back before it spills over. but it’s there—thick in his throat, hot under his skin. he can’t let it out while you’re still holding on by threads.

you’re still shaking, but your breathing is evening out, the jagged edge of panic smoothing over into something more manageable. he can feel the fight draining out of you, leaving something fragile and exhausted in its place.

he doesn’t let go. not until the tension in your body melts under his hands, your weight shifting just slightly under him.

“i’m not mad at you,” he says, barely above a whisper. “i’m not. i just… i just want you to be okay.”

the words feel clumsy, inadequate. but he can’t think of anything better. nothing that will fix this the way he wants to.

your voice is muffled against his chest. “i don’t know how to be okay.”

his heart cracks a little more. because of course you don’t. because they raised you to be perfect, not okay.

he swallows hard against the lump in his throat. “then we’ll figure it out,” he says, and it sounds like a vow this time. “i don’t care how long it takes.”

but even as he says it—means it—something caves in his chest. because today was supposed to be simple. all he had to do was protect you from them. and instead he watched them tear you apart and made it worse trying to put you back together.

he wasn’t fast enough.

he wasn’t enough.

and still, all he can do is hold you and hope it counts for something.

he stays there with you until the tremble in your hands fades and your breathing settles into something soft and slow. until your body settles against him, no longer shaking—just quiet. just tired.

and then, finally, he lets himself pull away.

he doesn’t want to.

everything in him is screaming to hold on, to stay. to keep you close until the hurt dissolves, until you believe him when he says you’re not broken, until he can see something in your eyes besides this brittle, aching weight.

but you’re too fragile now. and he’s already made this worse.

his hands move to cradle your face, wiping stray tears away with his thumbs.

“i think—” his voice feels raw, like he’s been screaming when all he’s done today is choke on his own words. “i think we should talk about this another time. when you’re ready. because…” he exhales, barely holding it together. “i’m not helping, am i?”

you don’t answer. not with words. you bite your lip like you’re trying to hold the silence in place. and it kills him.

“take your time,” he says. he leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead—soft, lingering, like a promise. “i’ll be here when you’re ready.” his voice cracks again, and he wonders if you can hear it.

he stands.

and leaves.

because even though it feels like tearing something out of his own chest, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

[etheraltides]

Of Tears and Triumphs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summarize: A quiet morning at the Cameron estate becomes a turning point as the reader grapples with anxiety and a relapse in her eating disorder journey . Rafe, noticing the distress, offers comfort and support, reminding her that nothing is ever lost.

Warning(s): Eating disorders (compulsive eating), body dysmorphia, anxiety, emotional distress (shame, guilt), mental health struggles (depression, self-image issues), substance abuse (reference to past drug use).

A/N: To anyone reading this who is struggling right now, I want you to know that you are not alone. It's okay to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed, and to not have everything figured out. Healing is a journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Be kind to yourself, even when it feels impossible. You are so much more than your struggles.

Remember, reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people – therapists, counselors, loved ones – who can support you through this. You don't have to face it alone, and you deserve to find the peace and healing that’s waiting for you. Please, take the first step towards getting the help you deserve. You are worth it. 💙

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden glow over the Cameron estate. Everything was deceptively perfect: the ocean's rhythmic crashing in the distance, the birds that chirped from the tree canopies, and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the morning breeze. Yet beneath this serene surface, a storm brewed in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, the light duvet twisted in your restless fingers. Rafe's side of the bed was empty, the indentation of his head still fresh on the pillow. He'd gone out for an early surf with Kelce and Topper, leaving you alone with your thoughts – a dangerous place to be.

The room felt stifling, the silence pressing into your ears like cotton. You glanced at the old Polaroid on the nightstand. In it, you and Rafe were beaming, arms slung around each other at some summer bonfire weeks before. Your hair was wild from the salt water, and his grin was as reckless as ever. It was weeks after your steady recover, before you tripped and the weight of guilt and shame began pressing down on you like lead.

Yesterday had started normally. You’d woken up with the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling almost optimistic. It wasn’t until you scrolled through Instagram that the first thread of anxiety wove itself around your chest. A picture from a girl you used to know, toned and confident in her bikini, had appeared at the top of your feed. The caption read “Hard work pays off.”

Your thumb froze mid-scroll, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Memories of skipped meals and endless calculations surfaced like unwelcome ghosts. A voice in your head, sharp and familiar, whispered, Why can’t you be like that?

The feeling followed you through the day, clinging like a second skin as your whole algorithmic seemed to sense your mind and show you all the gorgeous and thin girls in your feed. By the time afternoon came, the anxiety had grown into a suffocating mass that sat heavy in your chest. You paced the kitchen, each footstep echoing in your head. The silence was unbearable, the ticking of the clock like a countdown to something inevitable. You knew you weren’t going to settle down or forget until you did it.

The pantry door creaked as you opened it. Your fingers hovered over the neatly stacked items, trembling. Just a little, you told yourself, reaching for a handful of crackers. Just a few so I can cover this awful feeling – some good, old food comfort. But one taste turned into two, and soon, control slipped through your grasp like sand.

You moved on autopilot, the familiar numbness settling in as you grabbed chocolate bars, chips, anything you could find. Each bite was frantic, fueled by desperation and self-loathing. The last spoonful of ice cream melted on your tongue, its sweetness turning bitter as regret surged up, hot and suffocating.

When you came to, the evidence surrounded you: wrappers crumpled like discarded dreams, smudges of chocolate on your hands, the tub of ice cream half-melted on the counter. The kitchen, once a place of comfort, had become a cage, and you were the only prisoner.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of shame pressed down, crushing and relentless.

This morning, the mirror was your jury, and it was merciless. You tugged at your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin as if conspiring against you. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, were rimmed with red, dull and haunted. The internal monologue was relentless:

You’re weak. You’ve ruined everything. How could you let it happen again?

The silence in the house was shattered by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Rafe's voice echoed through the hallway, carefree and light. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t respond, the shame was too raw, too close. You pulled your knees tighter to your chest, staring blankly at the mirror as if it would offer some kind of reprieve.

Footsteps approached and then paused at the threshold. The room was drenched in the soft, fading sunlight, but it did nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice softened when he saw you, the smile fading from his lips. Concern clouded his eyes as he took in your hunched form, your tear-streaked cheeks. He set down his phone without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and gentle. He knelt beside you, resting a warm hand on your knee. The weight of his gaze was heavy but not suffocating, it was grounding.

“I messed up.” You whispered, voice breaking. “I messed up so bad.”

Rafe’s brows knitted, and he took a breath, steady and patient. “Talk to me, baby.” he coaxed. When you didn’t reply, he shifted to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you closer.

“I ate. I ate everything yesterday. I couldn’t stop.” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. Your voice trembled with the weight of confession. “And now I can’t stand to look at myself or… or to look at food again.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger but out of a protective frustration. “Hey, hey” he whispered, turning to face you fully. His hands found yours, fingers weaving together with tender insistence. “Listen to me. You are not defined by one moment, alright? Not by yesterday, not by what happened.”

Tears welled up again, and you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe reached out, tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at his blue eyes. “You were there for me, remember?” he said, his voice thickening. “Every time I messed up, every time I felt like I couldn’t crawl out of that pit with coke. You pulled me through. Don’t you dare think I’m not going to do the same for you. For however long it takes.”

The room stilled, the truth of his words settling into the spaces between the pain and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. You felt pathetic and mess, and yet Rafe was being understanding and loving – he was treating you like you should treat yourself.

He took your hand, placing a kiss to your palm as his eyes watched you tenderly. “Why don’t you take a nice bath?” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”

You blinked at him, the exhaustion and emotional weight making it difficult to argue. Reluctantly, you nodded, and with a small smile, Rafe guided you to the bathroom, making sure you were settled before stepping out quietly, having lighten up your favorite eucalyptus scented cantle on the way out.

As the warm water wrapped around you, easing the tension in your muscles, Rafe was already in the kitchen, brow furrowed as he watched a YouTube video on his phone, the volume low so you wouldn’t hear. The video was one of those wholesome, comforting cooking channels, and he paid close attention, following each step precisely. He wanted this to be a surprise, a moment where he could make you feel seen and cared for like you had made him feel when he was struggling to keep clean.

Half an hour later, you slipped into one of Rafe’s sweaters, not wanting any fabric hugging your body. The scent of simmering herbs greeting you as you opened the bedroom’s door. Your curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, a look of focused concentration on his face as he stirred a pot.

“Rafe?” you called, the sound soft, hesitant.

He turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he caught your surprised expression. “Hey, I thought you could use something warm and comforting.”

“You didn’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted with a warm look.

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “It’s just a light soup to warm your stomach and keep you up. Something gentle to help you feel a little more settled.”

A few minutes later, he ladled the soup into a bowl, sliding it in front of you with a spoon. “This is going to be the best soup you’ve ever had.” He promised with a wink.

“And if you can’t eat much, that’s okay but you just gotta try, alright.” He pulled a chair, his arm sneaking around your waist as he brought you to his lap. His hand on your hip brushing a soft pattern under the fabric.

“Thank you.” you whispered, the tightness in your chest easing a little as you blinked a tear away.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Always,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And remember, we’re in this together. Every single step.”

The first bite was warm and soothing and you felt your cheeks burning as he guided the spoon to your lips but his gentle whispers distracting you from feeling ashamed. He watched, eyes hopeful and patient. “It’s… really good.” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through.

“Told you.” he grinned proudly, his lips moving to the bare skin on your shoulder. “And if we have to go through this a hundred more times, we will. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening, replaced with something warm and steadfast. Hope didn’t feel so far out of reach.

“Tomorrow, we’re booking an appointment with the best therapist in Charleston. We’ll find someone who can help, okay? Someone who can give you the support you need.”

The sincerity in his voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. It felt like an embrace, even though he hadn’t moved further.

“You can do this, baby. You’re my tough girl, remember?” He whispered, his hand running up and down in a soothing rhythm on your back as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

[earlysunshines]

attachment: 1 image

myoui mina x fem!reader ; smut

synopsis: your girlfriends a model and you’re always clocked in so it’s reeeaaally hard for you to get intimate and goddddd mina’s getting impatient and sexually frustrated so she takes matters into her own hands.

warnings: smut ; filthy!! ; did someone say sub reader? ; sub!reader!!!!! ; mina is a model ; reader is in forensics ; somnophilia ; thigh riding ; fingering ; mentions of stitches ; bruises ; blood ; small easter egg if you’ve read one of my jihyo fics ; not proofread ; anything else i forgot to mention

a/n: muahhahahaa

attachment: 1 image

your phone buzzes, and usually you’d ignore it considering you have to meet this deadline– but when you look at your phone, seeing the small pixels of your girlfriend getting a kiss on the cheek from you in the contact picture and the little “minari” on the screen; you quickly grab your phone, clicking on the notification.

jesus. is all you can think of when you see the picture, you’re surprised you can think after seeing it.

mina – your girlfriend, your oh-so-lovely girlfriend, the girl of your dreams, the model you managed to get into a relationship with after spilling all of your drink on at one of sana’s parties, your everything and more – is leaned over against a balcony, eyes looking into the camera seductively. her makeup is light, a strand of her bangs fall over her forehead and then you glimpse down. you feel your chest tighten as soon you see the panties peeking out, pants slipping down so you can get a tantalizing glimpse of the skin and–

you groan.

it’s four, and you’re working overtime – again; there are too many cases to examine and report – you can’t be riled up, especially not now. biting your lip, you put your phone down, deciding to push everything to the side.

getting back to work is not easy.

minari: 1 notification 

“you fucking hate me.” is mumbled under your breath before you peek over, unlocking your phone quickly to see a text:

minari: don’t ignore me baby

minari: miss you

minari: did you like the picture? 

oh you loved the picture, loved it so much that you wonder what it would be like to rip the clothes she has on right off of her.

you: :-( 

you: please dont do this to me

you: i’m working overtime

you: when will you be back?

minari: this weekend, friday night

you groan again, sitting back in your chair in defeat. that’s three days.

you: i have to get back to work

you: the things i’d do to you

you: you’re a pain in the ass

on the other side of the line, mina giggles. she’s satisfied with her effect on you, she can just picture the little crease of your brows, the frown, and really just how cute you look when you’re all pouty and impatient. 

she bites the inside of her lip after reading the second to last text from you, thinking about just what you could do to her, until she’s interrupted by one of the photographers. it isn’t easy to model when she’s missing you, she’d much rather show off her luxury panties to you than the cameras. 

–

you’re beat. literally and figuratively.

as someone accustomed to the comfort and safety of the forensics lab and the routine of the department, being dragged into a chase on a friday night is far from what you expected. you had plans to go home and wait for your girlfriend, ready to greet her with a hug and something more – but no, of course you had been caught in a pursuit.

after being treated by the nurses, they hand you a slip of paper for a follow-up check-up, but you wave it off, insisting that you'll be fine. however, it's clear that jihyo, the detective, has endured much worse. fresh stitches on her ribs, bruises covering her upper back and arms, a bloody nose, and a cut on her jaw, she's clearly been through a rough ordeal, thankfully spiderwoman stepped into help you all out. 

in comparison, your injuries seemed minor—a smack to the ribs, a punch or two to the face, and a close call with a punch that grazed your temple, resulting in a bit of blood and a bandage to cover it. 

when you finally get to your car, exhausted and limp against the seat, you check your phone while you wait for the air conditioning to turn on. 

there’s seven new messages from mina, earning a sigh. 

you read through all of them, each one slowly getting more worrisome as you scroll, which paints a frown on your lips. 

[6:03pm]

minari: i just got home

minari: where are you?

[7:44pm]

minari: i bet you’re busy, stay safe

minari: i’ll be waiting here

minari: love you, i hope you’re okay

[10:30pm}

minari: going to bed, i’ll see you soon love

minari: thinking of you

[10:58pm]

minari: wish you were here, goodnight, i love you

the pain that’s spread throughout your body doesn’t bother you anymore; the thought of your girlfriend alone in bed – finally home after her two week-long work trip – makes you groan frustratedly as you lean your face against the wheel of your car. 

you’ve got to get home.

–

it’s almost midnight when you get to your apartment and you don’t even make it to the bedroom.

you underestimated the toll of the fatigue, the bruises, and the damage done to your body – not to mention the countless sleepless hours leading up to this chaotic night. you've been tirelessly investigating various dna samples and physical evidence, neglecting your much-needed rest in favor of focusing on your work and trying to distract yourself from missing your girlfriend too much because that is already enough to throw you in a spiral. 

as soon as you catch sight of the couch, you practically collapse onto it, sinking into the cushions with a sense of relief. leaning back lazily, you feel the heaviness of your eyelids, each blink a struggle to keep them open for just a little longer.

mina crosses your mind and you feel sorry for leaving her alone, but you physically can’t do anything about that.

the exhaustion catches up to you, and then you find yourself passing out on the couch with your work clothes still on, tie loose, and no energy left to fight off the drowsiness. 

–

mina wakes up earlier than usual – still alone.

the sun hasn’t even risen yet, and she had expected to find you lazily draped over her, maybe with the blanket slipping off the bed and the feeling of your breath gently warming her skin. but as she wakes, she realizes that the blanket is still snugly wrapped around her, and her skin feels oddly cold.

she blinks once, then twice, and still, you’re not there.

getting up and reaching over blindly for her phone, she unlocks it groggily, opening your messages to see a “read, 11:40pm” 

mina furrows her brows, rubbing her squinted eyes to read the same message on the screen. she feels a pang of worry as she wonders why you haven't responded or called, and why you're not next to her right now. hastily, she checks your location, clicking on your contact photo, and then freezes in disbelief.

you're home?

the contact picture she has of you—your smushed face with drool leaving the corner of your lip—is only half a centimeter away from her on the screen. with a sense of urgency, she jumps out of bed and rushes to find you.

she walks out of the hall and into the living room, catching a glimpse of the back of your head on the couch. mina lets out a sigh of relief, walking over and standing in front of your figure.

you look adorable, sitting up against the couch with your head leaned back on the cushion. you stay frozen in place, the only movement coming from the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest, which tells mina that you’re out. your hair is disheveled, you're still in your work clothes, and there's a new band-aid beside your brow on your temple. mina finds herself captivated by the sight, unable to tear her gaze away.

“long night, i bet.” mina mumbles, sitting down next to you and putting her head on your shoulder. you don’t budge, still remaining in your place.

mina kisses your cheek before returning to your shoulder, deciding to rest her eyes with you for a while more.

–

your girlfriend wakes up a few hours later – you’re still asleep by her side, still frozen in your place.

mina rubs her eyes against your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your body as she stirs awake for the second time that morning. fishing for her phone, she checks the time: 11:31 am. glancing back at you, still sound asleep, she decides it's time for both of you to start the day. she hasn't even had a chance to greet you while you were awake yet, and she misses your attention.

she presses a kiss to your cheek – no response.

pouting, she presses a few more to your cheek – you stay frozen in place, eyes closed and breathing still relaxed. 

then she moves over to your jawline, pressing a few pecks and moving down to your neck, the spot that earns the most from you – there’s a reaction, a small groan from you, and then you shift in your place – still no sign of consciousness. 

mina's never been a morning person, which only adds to her frustration. with a whine, she moves over to straddle you, settling herself on your lap.

“c’mon, i’ve been waiting for you.” she says, and still, it doesn’t wake you up. “wearing the same lingerie from the pictures and you’re still like this…” 

not only is she frustrated from missing you, she’s been irritated from how sex-deprived she’s been.

she brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, gently fixing the mess from whatever ordeal you endured last night, before taking a good look at you. the morning sunlight highlights the contours of your jawline, making your skin glow, and the slight parting of your lips adds to your allure. 

you look good—maybe even better than usual—and mina can't help but feel a surge of desire, fueled by her deprivation of you.

she tugs gently on the tie wrapped loosely around your neck, coaxing you forward. your head naturally falls forward in response, so mina tilts it up by the chin, cradling your face between her fingers.

“you look so cute,” mina sighs, rubbing a thumb over your skin. “i could take you like this.”

the two of you have talked about this – about fucking while one is asleep – and neither one of you was against it. however, it’s never actually happened, and sure mina’s daydreamed about this, and you have too, but she never thought there’d actually be such a perfect moment in time.

you’re asleep, looking all pretty, perfect, and downright fuckable – mina can’t help but bite her lip at the sight, grinding down against your lap a bit.

she shifts over to straddle one thigh in order to gain more friction, gasping at the second movement of her hips against you.

“maybe,” a small breath leaves her lips, “this’ll wake you up.”

another rut against your slacks and she’s shutting her eyes, fully waking herself up at the feeling.

mina’s usually never this horny, or bold for that matter, but after two weeks without her girlfriend with barely any time to talk to one another – she’s a whole new person.

holding onto one shoulder – earning a small mumble from you – mina grinds against you again. she’s only wearing your t-shirt, which sits loosely on her, and the panties from the picture she had sent – they’re soaked now.

her arms rest on the top of your shoulders now, and wrap around your neck as she clings onto you desperately. she feels hazy, seeing stars the faster she stimulates herself on you, and you have no fucking clue what’s going on. it honesly turns her on even more, getting to use you like this.

and when she thinks it can’t get anymore overwhelming, the feeling of her cunt against you, the thrill of making a mess of herself against you – she feels a rough, firm grip on her hips, then moves her head away from your neck to see your eyes slowly opening. 

“baby, w-what?” you sigh out lazily, trying to process everything that’s going on, “what are you–”

mina cuts you off with a kiss, to which you respond immediately with a hand cupping her cheek, and your lips fitting with hers perfectly. 

your girlfriend shudders against you, looking down at her cunt leaving a dark mark of arousal on your gray bottoms, then latches her lips onto your jawline. she leaves sensual kisses, waking you up from your deep sleep immediately. you melt as your hands reach the base of her neck.

she presses a peck on your upper jaw before muttering into your ear, “i missed– ah– you,” she says breathily.

“me too baby,” you respond with a sly smile, using your hands to push her down on your skin roughly, eliciting a loud moan into your ear.

she leans back, placing one hand on your shoulder while the other grabs the end of your tie. with a swift tug on the black cloth, you gasp in surprise. your face is close, close enough for mina to see your dilated pupils, creased brows, and flushed cheeks. it all adds to the allure, and tightens the knot in her stomach.

“y-you– fuck– left me all alone… l-last– god, nngh– night,” she struggles to say, especially when your thigh flexes. her hips jerk once before she grabs your hair roughly, then she throws her head back slightly, still making eye contact with you.

all your attention is on her, your eyes wide and pleading, like a puppy ready to answer and do anything she says. there's a mix of longing and desperation in your gaze, making you look arousingly pathetic and utterly irresistible simultaneously.

she tugs on your tie once more, earning a small whine, then orders: “you’re going to make me— u-ugh,  cum, okay?”

you nod eagerly, already helping her please herself against you with both hands again.

quickly, you tap your thigh up and rut her against you once more, the sensation and timing earns something near a yelp from her. mina pauses in her place and you feel her lower body vibrate against you as her high washes over, she practically melts, and her body goes a little limp as she tries to catch her breath.

you hold her tightly, supporting her body as it recovers from the overwhelming feeling. 

there’s a large, darkened spot on the cloth covering your whole thigh now, her arousal leaking over.

she kisses you again, basically taking the breath away from you. she traps your bottom lip between her two teeth, tugging gently to tease you – your grip on her tightens.

“y/n,” she says, climbing off your thigh and settling beside you.

you respond immediately, “yes?”

her hands toy with your tie again before she pulls dangerously. you whimper, biting the inside of your bottom lip. her manicured nails trace along your skin all the way up to the bandaid on your temple; you sigh out pathetically.

“where were you last night?” mina questions, letting her nail trace down your skin languidly. “no text, call, or girlfriend in my bed after two weeks of not seeing her.”

“i-i–” she tugs on your tie once more, tantalizingly, before rubbing two fingers on the cloth covering your cunt.s “mmf, i-i was caught in a pursuit and, we got into some um– some disagreements.” she presses on your cunt and your head shoots back – mina pulls again, making your head jerk forward to meet her dark gaze. “mina, please–”

“keep going, i didn’t tell you to stop, did i?”

you gulp. “n-no.”

she unzips your slacks now, skillfully unbuttoning it with one hand so she can play with your waistband. you fight the urge to look down, pleading with your eyes in an attempt for her to just fucking touch you.

pulling on the cloth again, she orders, “keep going.”

then she slides her fingers in, teasing your skin by rubbing circles above where you need it most. “j-jihyo um, she was beat up really–” mina presses against your clit, brushing her fingers over it softly and pushing your buttons. “fuck, really badly, a-and i– mmf–”

“you what, love?”

“p-please, please i need you, please just–”

“are you done with the story? i still don’t know why i woke up alone, and to find you dead asleep on the couch.” her tone is viscious, which makes you gulp again. 

“s-sorry,” you apologize, looking down at her hand in your panties. “i waited until everyone was, patched up and–” you throw your head back at the feeling of her fingers sliding up and down your slit. she tugs – you whimper, “s-sorry. and i saw your text and had to go home and– god, i had to rush home and by the time i–”

you feel her enter you just barely, pressing just the tip of her finger inside you, making you squirm and moan breathily. your head shoots down, your eyes shutting in response to the overwhelming stimulus. mina's touch is grueling as her fingers trail up to your chin, caressing it with a sensual tenderness. she tilts your head back up, and when your eyes meet hers.

“c’mon, use your words.”

“s-sorry, again.” you pant. “i got home and, t-these past weeks i couldn’t sleep without y-you and–” she pushes half of her middle finger in; you bite back a groan in order to finish your explanation. “i-i guess it caught up to me, and then i passed out here.” you sigh out quickly, looking at her deperately.

“you haven’t been taking care of yourself?” mina asks, looking at you pitifully. her hand cups your cheek now, “love…”

“i just, missed you.”

mina frowns, rubbing her thumb on your cheek. “let me take care of you baby.”

“please,” you beg, “just, god, just touch me already.”

mina kisses your lips again, and as she does so, you groan into her lips as she pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt. 

they enter seamlessly, earning a desperate mix of a cry and a whimper out of those puffy lips of yours. she brings her fingers out, and with the same thrill – pushes them back in, almost double the force. your hand grips your own thigh, overwhelmed by the way she flattens her palm against your clit, tormenting your pussy. 

mina’s lips start to roam your neck, leaving marks that’ll stay for days, marks that’ll have you reprimanded but you don’t fucking care. she’s been gone for two weeks, way too long and fucking yourself to pictures of her on your phone could never compare to what you’re feeling right now.

she can feel your tightening around her fingers, you were always so easy to rile up, so sensitive and vocal about everything that made you feel good. so when she curls her fingers and feels your hand snake to her hair, practically pulling it off her scalp, she knows you’re close already.

and then you’re lazily grinding your hips against her, slacks now caught at your ankles as your panties start to soak up the arousal leaking from your entrance. your legs close, but mina opens them, getting rougher with her fingers and hitting your clit with her palm. 

“m-mina,” you whine, “i’m close, god, so close,”

“yeah?” she says softly, in a way that sends a shiver throughout your whole body. “cum for me then, c’mon baby, you deserve it after all your hard work.”

you manage to look her in the eye, brows creased to oblivion and your jaw dropped before it picks itself up so you can mutter a shaky “m–hmm.”

her thumb moves swiftly to brush your clit, which is enough to send you over the edge, leaving you to shake against the couch and rock your hips up. she watches you cry out, the rise of your chest – then the fall, and feels her hand grow damp with your climax.

she continues to massage your clit, sliding her fingers up and down your entrance simultaneously to let you ride out your high, bringing you back down to earth, letting your vision go from hazy to normal again.

“m-mina, fuck, baby,” is all you can mutter before she pulls you forward with your tie, kissing your swollen, reddened lips. your words muffle against her and your hands grip her shoulder tightly before loosening the more you kiss.

you feel dizzy, dizzy in the best way possible with her lips on yours, tongues swirling and kisses growing sloppier. 

and then mina pulls away one more time, twisting the fabric of your tie around her pointer as she gazes at you; dark red marks – almost purple, each the size of a quarter – are plastered on the skin of your neck, your eyes are closed as you breath heavily, and your hair is even more ruffled than before. you’re trembling, mina always liked how cute and overstimulated you are after you cum, so riled up and thrown off that it makes her want to kiss you till you’re struggling to bring air into your lungs.

she brings a hand to your hair, brushing the messy strands that hang over your pretty face in order to then cup your cheeks again. she smiles at you, grinning at the mess she’s made.

“awake now?”

“very.” you sigh out, bringing your hand over to her thigh to rub circles on it. “i’m really sorry for leaving you alone last night.”

mina shakes her head. “it’s fine, you had your job to do love.” 

“i would’ve enjoyed doing you instead.” you joke, pouting at her cutely. “god, do you know how annoying it is to be horny when your girlfriend isn’t home?”

your girlfriend rests her head against the cushion, then turns to face you. “oh i know. i waited all night for you, you know?”

turning to her and giving her an apologetic frown, you apologize again, “sorry.”

mina rolls her eyes at you, giggling. 

she holds your hand and uses the other to brush her fingers over the marks she’s made on your neck, making your breath hitch.

“make it up to me with a few more rounds?”

yeah, you’re tired as hell, even after eleven hours of sleep. you’ve just came and it took the life out of you – plus, you’re seriously just exhausted, but the way your cunt throbs at the suggestion urges you to lean over and kiss her again.

you pull away, lips brushing against hers before you answer against her, “ruin me.”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Keep You close

Synopsis: If you don’t belong with him, why do you always end up back with him?

A/N: since this idea got the popular vote, here it is!!

London wasn’t home. Not yet, at least.

The city pulsed around you—rain-slicked streets reflecting neon lights, the hum of traffic in the distance, the scent of cigarette smoke and damp concrete clinging to the air. It was supposed to be a fresh start. A chance to leave everything behind.

And yet, here you were. Caught up in something dangerous. Caught up in him.

Nick Leister wasn’t the kind of trouble you stumbled into by accident. He was the kind you should’ve seen coming from a mile away—the kind that sucked you in, chewed you up, and left you with nothing but regrets. But no matter how many times you told yourself to stay away, it never stuck.

Because every time you tried, he found his way back to you.

Tonight was no different.

You could feel him before you even saw him.

The club was packed—bodies moving under flashing lights, the bass vibrating through the floorboards. You were at the bar, fingers wrapped around a sweating glass, doing your best to pretend you weren’t waiting for him.

But then—

A shadow fell over you.

“Didn’t think this was your scene.”

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

Nick’s voice was smooth, dark, with that ever-present edge of amusement. He smelled like whiskey and smoke and something else entirely—something unmistakably him.

You exhaled slowly, bracing yourself. “Didn’t think you’d care.”

Nick stepped closer, his presence suffocating in the best and worst way. “I don’t,” he said, but the way his eyes dragged over you told a different story.

Liar.

Your fingers tightened around your drink. “Then why are you here?”

He smirked, tilting his head. “You tell me, sweetheart. You’re the one running around my city.”

His city.

You hated how right he was. You hated that no matter where you went, it always felt like Nick was there—lurking in the shadows, watching from across the room, reminding you that no matter how much distance you tried to put between you, it was never enough.

You turned to face him fully, your pulse kicking up a notch. “I moved here for a fresh start, Nick.”

His gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through it. “That what you tell yourself?”

You swallowed hard. “That’s the truth.”

He hummed, stepping closer, so close that the scent of him curled around you. “Then why is it every time I see you, you’re looking for trouble?”

You stiffened. “I’m not—”

“You are.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “You don’t belong in my world, but you keep walking straight into it.”

You hated the way your heart reacted to his words, the way your stomach twisted painfully. Because he was right.

And yet…

“You’re the one who keeps showing up, Nick,” you shot back. “Maybe you’re the one who can’t let me go.”

For a second, neither of you spoke. The music throbbed around you, the air charged with something unspoken, something dangerous.

Then, Nick exhaled sharply, shaking his head with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You should go home.”

You swallowed. “Is that what you want?”

Nick didn’t answer. Not with words.

Instead, his fingers brushed against your wrist, just for a second—barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. Enough to make your resolve crack.

His jaw tightened. “Go home”

You wanted to fight him on it. Wanted to call him out for the way he always did this—pushed you away, only to pull you back in. But you didn’t.

Instead, you walked past him, the ghost of his touch still lingering on your skin.

And Nick?

He let you go.

For now.

But of course, it didn’t last.

It never did.

You weren’t sure if you were dreaming when you heard the knock at your door. It was late—past one in the morning—and you had almost convinced yourself to ignore it.

But something told you to check.

And when you did, there he was.

Nick leaned against the doorframe, looking like sin wrapped in leather, cigarette between his fingers, his knuckles bruised.

Your stomach flipped. “You’re bleeding.”

He smirked. “You gonna invite me in, or you just gonna stand there?”

You hesitated, but you already knew the answer.

The door clicked shut behind him, sealing your fate.

Nick exhaled slowly, flicking the cigarette out the open window before turning to you, his gaze darker than usual.

“Got into some shit,” he muttered, dragging a hand through his already-messy hair.

You frowned, stepping closer despite yourself. “Again?”

He let out a breathless chuckle. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.” You exhaled sharply, grabbing the first-aid kit from your bathroom. “Sit down.”

Nick didn’t argue. He just watched you as you crouched in front of him, dabbing at the cut near his brow. His eyes traced over your face, something flickering beneath the surface.

“You know,” he murmured, “You don’t belong in my world, but I can’t seem to let you go.”

You froze for a fraction of a second before forcing yourself to keep going. “And yet, here we are.”

Nick’s lips twitched. “Yeah. Here we are.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and charged. You focused on the task at hand, ignoring the way your hands trembled slightly.

But Nick wasn’t letting it go.

“You should leave me alone,” he muttered.

You let out a humorless laugh. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

His smirk faltered.

“I’m serious,” you pressed, setting the bandage aside. “You tell me I don’t belong in your world, but you keep dragging me into it.”

Nick’s jaw tightened. “You could still walk away.”

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze. “Could you?”

The air shifted.

Nick didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The way he looked at you said it all—like he wanted to pull you closer and push you away at the same time.

Like maybe he couldn’t walk away, no matter how much he told himself he should.

Your chest ached.

“Nick,” you whispered.

His breathing was uneven. His fingers twitched at his sides.

And then—

He reached for you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate, his lips crashing against yours like he was trying to prove something, like he was trying to claim something.

You gasped against his mouth, fingers curling into his jacket as you let yourself fall.

Because no matter how much he warned you, no matter how many times he told you this was a mistake—

Nick Leister wasn’t letting you go. If you didn’t belong in his world well,

then he didn’t want it.

[hueseok]

can’t stop thinking about husband!yoongi who also happens to be a ceo, the very reason why he has the ability to spoil you rotten whenever he wants to.

“yoongi, come on!” you call out to your husband, seeing him still sitting on a chair while you’ve been here in the pool for a considerably long time now, expecting that he was going to join you shortly after like he said earlier.

however, it’s been roughly ten minutes now and he’s stuck there on his patio chair, scrolling through his phone and enjoying the bottle of wine he opened before you dipped yourself in the water.

“i change my mind,” he says, a bit sheepish. “the water looks cold, babe. i don’t think i want to.”

you roll your eyes, swimming closer to him. “then why did you even book us a suite with a private pool?”

“because i know you’d love it.” he smiles. “and also because i was expecting we’d swim in the daytime.”

“what’s the fun in that?”

“uh, perhaps, feeling fresh and cool and—”

“babe,” you cut him off, leaning now on the edge of the pool, “just join me.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you laugh as you see him hesitantly standing up and taking his shirt off, soon going to the steps of the pool where it leads him deeper and where you’re already waiting for him as well.

yoongi childishly holds out his hand to you, which you take with a laugh, helping him to fully sink himself in the water.

“fuck, it’s cold,” he says with a grimace and a shiver, something that makes you grin, immediately putting your arms on his neck and wrapping your legs around his waist once he goes closer.

“you’re so dramatic.”

“it is, though. look, i have goosebumps.” he raises his arm and you glance at it, snorting.

“okay, point proven, big baby.”

yoongi looks at you and breaks off into a big smile, chuckling and encircling his arms on your waist, giving your lips a quick kiss.

“enjoying this trip so far?”

“yup.” you nod.

“good.”

the both of you kiss again, this time much longer now, with yoongi angling his face to the side so he can do it better, one hand resting on your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing against it.

you can feel your heartbeat escalating at just the feel of him this near, your skin touching and bringing a little warmth in the cold water. it makes yoongi think that he should have just done this much earlier rather than prolonging it from happening because of his laziness at the thought of taking a shower after this.

“thanks for bringing me here,” you murmur against his mouth, your own curving up in a smile. “i never thought we’d actually go overseas for our anniversary.”

“it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” his hold on you tightens as you place little kisses on his jaw down to his neck, eventually settling on leaning your head on his shoulder. “besides, i think i need to make up for the fact i forgot last year’s anniversary.”

you laugh at the memory. “it’s okay. you already told me that you forgot it because our wedding date and the day we started dating confused you. plus, you took me to that restaurant i love.”

“still though… the first year is supposed to be memorable.”

“no, it isn’t. the first year’s supposed to be the hardest.” you pull back to smile at him. “so, you get a pass.”

“thank god,” he jokes and chuckles, you doing the same.

“but seriously, yoon,” you play with the hair on the back of his head, gazing at his eyes, “thank you. you always go ahead of yourself just to do things for me—to make me happy, you know?”

“why are you thanking me? it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

“no. you could have been a shitty boyfriend, and then a shitty husband but... you’re just the best. you’ve given me everything i could possibly want and been the man i needed. i’m so lucky to have you.”

yoongi gazes at you in absolute awe, that amazing feeling again spreading in his chest and making him feel all giddy and happy.

he wasn’t lying when he said that thanking him wasn’t needed, but the acknowledgement and the appreciation you’re showing surely makes him pleased, heart getting bigger because of it.

“you’re drunk, aren’t you?” he nevertheless asks though, teasing and taking the opportunity of you being lovey-dovey, that you hit his bare chest without hesitation.

“i’m serious,” you whine.

“i know, baby, which makes me glad. but it’s only what you deserve, okay? the reason why i’m doing this, i mean. you’ve been there for me too—when i was in the worst place, when the company almost went bankrupt… you were the one who picked me up to my feet, loved me unconditionally. so… let’s be real. i’m the real lucky one here.”

you smirk, fondly staring at every feature he has on his face, smiling wide. “are we just going to start saying our vows again?”

he snorts. “says the woman who started being sappy.”

“do you want me to apologize for letting my husband know i love him?”

“no,” he shakes his head, not helping himself as he leans closer to you so that he can place his lips over yours again, “i love it when you say that you love me.”

“and i really do, you know. i’ll never get tired saying how much i love you so much,” you agree almost immediately, melting into the kiss again.

he hums contently, caressing your sides. “i love you too, baby. you’re the reason why i thank the heavens for being alive every single day.”

under the stars and the moon that night, until the moment the two of you decide to take that intimate moment right there inside, it feels like a second honeymoon with yoongi.

you know he’s a busy man, a workaholic—and yet the fact that he can spare this much time for you to make you feel loved on the very same day you got married, makes you think all over again how fortunate you are to be with someone like him who works hard for you both but never forgets to cherish you.

[levandright]

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — acts of serviceꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn reader! ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ fluff, est relationship, non-idol au ꕀ word count : 2.4k ʬʬ go back to the start?

ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : this is a long one! took a while to finish this cause i had to think long and hard about what to write >.> but this officially marks the end of the wyll series <3 hope reading this series made you feel better and happy. sorry if most of these were kind of repetetive qwq i really couldn't think of anything else

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

you step through the front door, feeling completely drained from a long, exhausting day at work. all you want is to sink into the quiet and leave every bit of stress behind. as you kick off your shoes, you hear gentle footsteps approaching, and heesung appears, his warm smile immediately softening the edges of your rough day.

without a word, he takes your bag and gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “go get comfortable,” he says, nodding toward the bathroom. “i’ve got something waiting for you.”

curious, you wander over, opening the bathroom door to find the most thoughtful sight: a warm, steaming bath, flickering candles casting a soft glow, and the delicate scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air. a fluffy towel and your coziest pajamas are laid out on the counter, ready for you. you can’t help but smile, feeling the tension already beginning to ease. —more under the cut!

you step into the bath, the hot water immediately soothing your tired muscles, and close your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the warmth. time slips by as you relax, the soft candlelight dancing around you and the familiar, comforting scent making everything feel so peaceful.

after a while, you hear faint sounds coming from the other room. when you step out of the bath and change into the soft pajamas, you find that heesung has tidied up the living room, fluffing pillows and folding blankets, creating a cozy haven just for you.

on the table, there’s a steaming mug of chamomile tea waiting, with a little note beside it: just relax. you deserve it.

you turn to find him leaning in the doorway, a gentle smile on his face. “feeling a little better?” he asks.

warmth fills your chest as you nod, walking over to hug him. “thank you, hee. this is… exactly what i needed.”

he wraps his arms around you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “anything for you,” he murmurs. “now, go sit down. i’ll join you in a bit.”

with the stress of the day melting away, you sink onto the couch, tea in hand, and watch as heesung moves around the space, making everything feel calm and safe. you feel your heart swelling with gratitude, realizing just how lucky you are to have someone who knows exactly how to take care of you, even when you don’t ask.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

you barely make it through the door, feeling the weight of the week’s work still clinging to you. every muscle aches, and all you want is to collapse on the nearest soft surface. but when you look up, there’s jay, standing in the doorway with an armful of grocery bags and a gentle smile that instantly lifts your spirits.

“surprise!” he says, stepping inside and setting the bags on the kitchen counter. “i know you’ve had a crazy week, so i thought i’d make you dinner.”

your eyes widen as he begins unpacking fresh vegetables, herbs, and spices—everything you’d need for your favorite meal. he waves his hand toward the living room, giving you a playful but serious look. “now, no arguments. go relax. i’ve got this under control.”

reluctantly, but touched beyond words, you slip off your shoes and settle onto the couch, letting the comforting sounds of jay chopping vegetables and humming softly drift through the space. occasionally, you steal glances into the kitchen, watching him work with focused precision, tasting sauces and seasoning just right. the smell of fresh herbs and simmering spices fills the air, making you realize just how hungry you are.

after a little while, he calls you to the table, where he’s transformed your dining space into a cozy little restaurant. candles cast a warm glow over the table, and a small handwritten menu sits at your place, with your favorite dish written out in his neat handwriting, complete with little hearts doodled in the corners.

“your table is ready, madam,” he says with a grin, pulling out your chair.

you laugh, feeling warmth spread through you as he serves the food with a flourish. as you take a bite, you’re hit with how perfectly he’s captured all your favorite flavors, each one bringing a bit of comfort and joy you didn’t realize you were missing.

“this is amazing, jay,” you say, meeting his gaze over the table. “i… i don’t know what to say. thank you.”

he reaches across, squeezing your hand, his thumb tracing soft circles against your skin. “you deserve it,” he replies simply. “now, let’s eat before it gets cold.”

the two of you sit together, talking, laughing, and savoring each bite. and with each moment, the weight of your week starts to disappear, replaced by the warmth of good food, soft candlelight, and the gentle care of someone who knows exactly how to make you feel at home.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

after a long day of studying, you drag yourself back to your desk, only to find a neatly wrapped package sitting there, adorned with a little bow and a note in jake’s handwriting: “study survival kit: open for a boost of genius (and snacks)!”

smiling, you pull off the bow and lift the lid to find an array of thoughtful goodies. inside are all the essentials: your favorite snacks lined up like little soldiers ready to fight off your exhaustion, a pack of flashcards, and your favorite highlighters in every color. you laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as you dig deeper, finding a small envelope with another note tucked inside: “i’m so proud of you. you’ve got this!”

beneath the note is a playlist he’s made just for you. he even named it focus mode and added little notes next to each song: “for when you need motivation,” and “take a five-minute dance break to this one!” you chuckle, imagining him carefully curating each track to help you power through your study sessions.

the thoughtfulness hits you all at once, and you can’t help but pull out your phone to call him. he answers on the first ring, as if he was waiting for you to find the surprise.

“jake, i can’t believe you did all this,” you say, feeling a rush of gratitude.

he laughs softly. “just wanted to make sure you had everything you need. and, you know, remind you that you’re going to crush this.”

with his words and the little survival kit by your side, you suddenly feel a renewed sense of motivation. "thanks, jake. really.”

“anytime,” he replies, his voice warm. “now, go ace that studying—and remember to snack responsibly.”

with his support filling you with confidence, you settle back into your books, a little lighter and a whole lot more ready to take on anything.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

the morning feels like it comes way too soon. you barely finish getting ready when your phone buzzes with a message from sunghoon: “i’m outside! take your time, i’ve got everything covered 🙂”

surprised, you open the door to find him standing by his car, leaning against the open trunk where your luggage is already packed. he greets you with a soft smile, holding out a small paper bag. “breakfast for the road,” he says, passing you a warm breakfast sandwich, coffee, and a small, cozy travel pillow. you’re touched by the thoughtfulness in every detail.

“sunghoon, you didn’t have to do all this,” you say, already feeling a little more at ease despite the early hour.

he just smiles and opens the passenger door for you. “of course i did. can’t let you leave hungry, right?”

as he drives, you sip on the coffee, feeling grateful for how he’s taken care of everything. it’s a quiet ride, the city still sleepy, and you steal glances at him, heart warmed by how much he cares.

when you finally arrive at the airport, he helps you with your bags and pulls you in for a long hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “call me if you need anything,” he says softly. “and i’ll stay on the phone until you’re through security, okay?”

true to his word, he keeps you company over the phone, chatting about little things to keep your nerves calm. you laugh at his jokes, feeling lighter with each step through the busy terminal. his voice is steady, reassuring, and you’re grateful for his presence even from afar.

finally, after you pass through security, you glance back at him on your screen. “thank you, sunghoon. for… everything.”

“just want you to feel safe,” he says, his voice warm. “and loved.”

and as you head toward your gate, you feel exactly that.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

after a long week, you finally have a free afternoon to relax. you’re about to settle in when sunoo walks up to you, grinning with a mysterious sparkle in his eyes, holding a large shoebox behind his back.

“close your eyes,” he says, his excitement contagious. with a laugh, you play along, and he carefully places the box in your hands. when you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is the familiar logo, but as you lift the lid, you’re stunned.

inside is a brand-new pair of sneakers in your favorite colors, customized with little details that feel perfectly you. you run your fingers over the vibrant accents, noticing how he’s picked out each color with thought. tucked neatly on top of one sneaker is a small note in his handwriting: “let’s go make some new memories in these! can’t wait for our next adventure.”

your heart swells as you look up at him, a mix of excitement and gratitude in your eyes. “sunoo, these are amazing. i can’t believe you did this!”

he grins, eyes crinkling as he watches you examine the shoes. “i noticed your old ones were… well, let’s just say they’ve seen a lot,” he teases, laughing. “figured it was time for an upgrade.”

you slip them on, feeling the perfect fit and the subtle bounce in each step. “ready to test them out?” you ask, grinning.

he takes your hand, nodding eagerly. “absolutely.”

and as you head out together, each step in your new sneakers feels like the start of something special. with sunoo by your side, every walk feels like a new adventure waiting to happen.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

you sit at your desk, glaring at your laptop screen as it lags for the third time in five minutes. just yesterday, it froze while you were working on an important project, nearly driving you to the brink. as you vent your frustration, jungwon listens patiently, nodding with sympathetic looks and murmuring, “that sounds annoying.”

the next day, you return home to find your laptop sitting on your desk, seemingly untouched but with a small sticky note on the cover. curious, you pick it up and read his neat handwriting: “all fixed! hope this makes things a little easier 💻💙.”

smiling, you open the laptop, expecting the usual sluggish startup—but instead, it runs smoothly, faster than it has in ages. bewildered, you click through your programs, watching in awe as they open instantly, without a hint of lag.

it doesn’t take long to realize what he’s done. checking your settings, you see updates have been installed, cleanup software added, and unnecessary files deleted. jungwon must have spent hours working on this to get everything optimized.

you walk over to find him lounging in the living room, engrossed in a show. he looks up when you enter, noticing the laptop in your hands and a big grin spreading across your face. “so… everything’s working?”

“jungwon, i can’t believe you did all this for me!” you rush over, sitting beside him and giving him a grateful hug. “it’s running perfectly now. you’re amazing.”

he chuckles, returning your hug with a shy smile. “i just thought it’d save you some stress. i know how much it’s been bothering you.”

you look at him, feeling a rush of gratitude for his quiet thoughtfulness. “it really does. thank you,” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

he smiles back, his eyes warm. “anytime. just let me know if it acts up again, and i’ll be your tech support.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

you sit at your desk, sighing at your computer screen filled with unfinished photos. photography usually brings you so much joy, but lately, the editing process has been a struggle. no matter how much you try, you just can’t get the shots to look the way you want. it feels like you’ve been staring at the same images for days.

riki noticed your frustration. he’s always been supportive, but today, he had an idea. you have no clue, but while you were at school, riki spent hours diving into editing tutorials. he wasn’t exactly a pro, but he was determined to give it a try. he practiced adjusting lighting, color balance, and filters, slowly transforming your shots until he had a whole batch polished and ready. he left space for you to add any final touches, of course.

when you head over to his place later, riki greets you with a casual grin that hints he’s up to something.

“i have a surprise for you,” he says, leading you to his computer.

you look at the screen, and your jaw drops. your photos are there, fully edited—polished, vibrant, and so close to what you’d been hoping to achieve. “did you… edit these?” you ask, a mix of disbelief and excitement in your voice.

“yeah,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “i know you were feeling stuck, so i thought i’d help out. i, uh, left room for you to make whatever final touches you want, though.”

you can’t help but beam, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “riki, this is amazing! i can’t believe you did all this.” you pull back to look at him, a grateful smile stretching across your face. “you actually learned editing just for me?”

“of course,” he says, hugging you back, then smirks a little. “i knew how much this project meant to you. plus, you can teach me the tricks i missed, if there are any.”

you laugh, feeling lighter than you have in weeks. with riki’s help, the project doesn’t feel overwhelming anymore. sitting together, you go through the photos, making final adjustments here and there, and you feel more inspired than you have in ages.

and as the two of you admire the finished shots later that night, you can’t stop smiling. thanks to riki, your project is complete—and somehow, your passion for photography feels renewed all over again.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @honeybelleee @kozumesphone @manaah02 (perm taglist open!)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7

©levandright

[wosospacegirl]

Needy - reader x Caitlin x Katie (+18)

Summary: Caitlin and Katie make Y/n feel better after a rough day

Warnings: (+18) - top!Caitlin and Katie, bottom!reader, cunnilingus etc, tit sucking in a non sexual way.

Word count: 1.3k

Based on this ask

..

Katie and Caitlin finally had a day off from training, but unfortunately, Y/n wasn’t as lucky; she was out working and always came back from work very tired and stressed.

This time was no different.

Caitlin and Katie were lying on the couch, Katie tucked in between Caitlin's legs. Caitlin had her hand moving lazily over Katie's belly, caressing the skin gently while they waited for Y/n to get home so they could order something to eat and finally watch the new episode of a TV show they were all watching.

But Y/n had other plans.

When Y/n opened the door, she felt like all the weight on her shoulders had finally lifted. The familiar scent of Caitlin’s candles filled the room, warm and soft, and she noticed the fresh flowers Katie had brought home yesterday. Everything about the scene felt calm and safe.

Y/n felt at home–she could finally relax after a very long day of dealing with very stupid people and their very stupid demands.

Katie was the first to notice Y/n’s arrival. The girl smiled and lifted her arms, inviting Y/n to cuddle with them.

"Hey, pretty," Caitlin greeted, setting her phone aside and giving all her attention to Y/n, and quickly noticing how tired she looked. 

"Rough day?" Caitling asked, softness on her face.

Y/n just nodded, dropping her bag before practically collapsing on top of Katie, snuggling herself closer to her and giving gentle kisses to Katie's neck while Caitling placed a comforting hand on her back, tracing gentle patterns.

“Poor thing,” Caitling said, rubbing Y/n’s back in slow circles.

She loved smelling Katie's body wash, it was a pine scent, very different from Caitlin, who chose a sweeter smell, like strawberry and vanilla. 

"You’re so tense," Katie murmured, kissing the side of Y/n's head “We’ve told you to quit your job and let us take care of you.”

"Hmm, can’t do that..you know it," Y/n mumbled, putting her hands under Caitlin's shirt. "Just want kisses– I had a bad day."

"We can give you that," Katie said, slightly teasing. "Come here."

Y/n felt Katie's hand, cupping her face and bringing her lips together, her tongue dominating every inch of her mouth like she always did.

"Go kiss Caitlin now, baby," Katie said. “Be good for her.”

Y/n got on her knees and firmly placed her hands on either side of Caitlin's body while Katie was still under her.

Y/n kissed Caitlin, the Australian held the back of Y/n’s neck firmly, keeping her close and not letting her move her head. Katie then lifted Y/n shirt just enough so she could wrap her lips around Y/n’s nipple, sucking them eagerly.

Y/n moaned against Caitlin's mouth, but Caitlin didn't let her break the kiss. Instead, she deepened it, moving their tongue around. Y/n always felt a bit overwhelmed whenever the three had sex together, but it was a good type of overwhelmed.

She felt like she could just let go of everything because Caitlin and Katie would be there for her. When she was with them, she was taken care of.

They met all of her needs. She didn't even have to say it; she didn’t need to think about anything around, Y/n could just…be.

Katie quickly pulled Y/n’s pants from her body, the roughness of the action catching Y/n off guard. 

“Keep on kissing me, baby,” Catiling whispered against her mouth. “Katie will take care of you.”

Y/n obeyed, giving all of her attention to Caitlin.

Katie threw Y/n’s pants to the floor, grabbing Y/n’s hips and putting her mouth on Y/n’s already wet underwear.

“Hmm,” Y/n moaned, rolling her eyes and moving her hips against Katie’s mouth.

“Hey, focus on me,” Caitlin said sternly. “Not on Katie.”

Caitlin crashed their mouth together again, cupping Y/n’s face roughly as Katie ate her out through the damp fabric of underwear.

“So sweet,” Katie purred. “Got two sweet girls all to myself.”

Y/n was beginning to feel dizzy. Katie was slowly bringing her to an orgasm, but Caitlin didn’t allow her to stop kissing. It was like she didn’t have enough oxygen on her brain.

Caitlin abruptly stopped her kissing and brought her mouth to Y/n’s ear.

“Can you be good for me, baby?”

Y/n nodded desperately while practically riding Katie’s face, feeling her tongue sucking her needy clit like it was her most favourite thing in the world.

Caitlin took the hem of Y/n’s shirt and put it in her mouth, the fabric rough against her tongue. The cold air that met her breasts hardened her nipples.

“I’m gonna suck your tits, but you have to hold your shirt like that for me,” Karie said, a grin in her face. “Okay? Can you do that?”

Y/n nodded with big doe eyes, wanting nothing more than to cum.

“Good girl,” Caitling said as she grabbed Y/n’s waist and quickly began sucking one of her nipples while pinching the other. 

It was all too much. 

Y/n was gonna cum soon, she knew it, and so did both girls.

Katie, noticing how close Y/n was, put her underwear to the side and gently penetrated Y/n with her long index finger.

“Ugh,” Y/n moaned, moving her hips up and down on Katie’s finger.

Y/n mumbled something against the fabric of her shirt, the words muffled and impossible to make out. Katie could only guess what she was trying to say, but the desperate tone in her voice made it clear enough — Y/n wanted more.

Katie was in a good mood, so she did what Y/n wanted.

She added one finger, feeling Y/n’s needy walls welcoming them, and as Y/n’s hips buckled faster, she added a third.

“You’re stretching so well around my fingers today,” Katie teased. “What happened? Normally, you need some time to take all of me.”

Caitling took her mouth out of Y/n’s nipples and sucked on Y/n’s jaw, leaving a clear hickey on her skin. “She’s just so horny, Katie, she can’t help but accept everything we give her.”

“So dumb, so needy,” Katie said, thrusting her finger faster and deeper. “We need you to cum now baby, can you do that?”

Yn nodded again, wanting nothing more than to just let go.

“Cum on Katie’s fingers baby, do it,” Caitling whispered against her neck.

And it was all Y/n needed.

Y/n felt the typical wave of pleasure running through her body as Katie continued to thrust into her, helping her ride her orgasm.

Her body felt hot. Like was like there wasn’t enough air in the room for her to breathe. Her brain was dizzy, her body was warm and weak.

She fell on top of Caitlin and felt Katie retrieving her fingers and lying on her side. 

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed; all she knew was that she woke up moments later to Caitilin kissing her forehead.

“Hey sleepy,” she said tenderly. “You need to wake up now, need to eat something.”

Y/n buried her face on Caitlin’s chest, not wanting to get up any time soon.

When she noticed that Caitlin wasn’t wearing her shirt, Y/b quickly found her breasts, and wrapped her lips around one nipple, sucking on it, but not sexually.

Caitlin was used to it by now. Y/n always found comfort in sucking on her tits, she normally did it after a big orgasm or when she was feeling overwhelmed because of a rough day.

Today, Y/n experienced both things, so Caitlin wasn’t surprised when Y/n began sucking on it even harder, her other hand coming to cup on her other tit.

“Katie already cleaned you,” Caitlind said as she gently ran her hand through Y/n’s hair, watching as her cheeks hallowed and then relaxed while she sucked on her. “She’d gone downstairs now, getting our food.”

Y/n didn’t answer anything.

Right now, she just wanted Katie to be back so she could fully relax with her two girls.

..

Notes: i had to add that ending becuase i'm a slut for tit sucking like casually just wrapping your lips around them?? like yeahh!!

Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[pucksandpower]

Burn for You

Max Verstappen x Perez!Reader

Summary: you promised your brother to save yourself for marriage, but Max shows you that some promises are meant to be broken (and some rings are meant to be taken off)

Warnings: 18+ content and purity culture

You’re lying in bed, propped up against the headboard, waiting for Max to join you. He comes into the bedroom fresh from his shower, hair still damp.

“Hey, liefje,” he says, leaning down to give you a quick kiss.

You smile up at him. “Hey, yourself.”

He settles onto the bed next to you, and you automatically shift closer, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm comes up around you. You let out a contented sigh, perfectly comfortable in his embrace.

You’ve been dating Max for over a year now, ever since you met when you decided to travel with your brother for a season. You clicked immediately and have been inseparable ever since.

Moving in together was the obvious next step in your relationship. Waking up next to Max every morning … falling asleep wrapped up in his arms each night — you couldn’t imagine anything better.

Your left hand rests on his chest, your purity ring glinting in the low light. You’ve worn that ring since your brother gave it to you when you turned sixteen, a symbol of your commitment to stay pure until marriage. Max knows how much it means to you.

His hand covers yours, thumb gently stroking over the ring. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

You laugh softly. “Only about ten times.”

“Well, you do. As always.”

You lift your head to smile at him. “You charmer.”

He grins and leans in for a lingering kiss. When you pull back, breathless, his eyes are dark.

“I love you,” he says seriously. “So much.”

Your heart melts as it always does when he says those words. “I love you too.”

You share another long, slow kiss. His hand tightens on yours, the ring pressing into your skin.

When the kiss ends, he brings your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your fingers, right over the ring. Your breath hitches at the sensation.

“Someday I’m going to put a different ring here,” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, emotion welling up. “Yeah?”

He meets your eyes. “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will.” You surge forward to capture his mouth again, trying to pour all your love into the kiss.

After long, blissful moments, you reluctantly pull back, heart pounding. Max’s eyes are dark with desire, his breathing uneven like yours.

He strokes his thumb over your ring again. “This looks beautiful on you. But ...”

“But what?” You ask breathlessly.

“I can’t wait to take it off someday. To replace it with a ring that shows you’re mine.”

A shiver goes through you at his possessive words. You press closer against him. “I am yours, Max. No matter what ring I’m wearing.”

He smiles, pleased. “I know.”

You snuggle into him again, but this time his hands begin to wander — down your back, over your hips, teasing at the hem of your shirt.

You catch his wandering hands in yours, stilling them. “Max ...”

He kisses your forehead. “Shh, just trust me.”

You hesitate only a moment before nodding. You do trust him, with everything in you.

He begins again, hands roaming over you unhurriedly. You sigh into his touches, your eyes falling closed. His hands are warm and sure as they learn your body, tracing every curve through your clothes.

When his fingers slip just under the hem of your shirt to brush your bare skin, you gasp.

“Is this okay?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” you breathe. You’ve never let anyone touch you like this before, but you want Max to.

Only Max.

He kisses you languidly as his hands continue their exploration. You lose yourself in the feel of him surrounding you, his lips on yours, his hands branding your skin.

Slowly, teasingly, those hands make their way higher, thumbs just grazing the underside of your breasts. You shiver at the contact.

“Max,” you gasp against his mouth.

He pulls back to look at you, eyes questioning. “Too much?”

You shake your head, lacking words. You arch into him again, wanting more.

Needing no further encouragement, his hands close over your breasts, massaging gently through your shirt. You let out a low moan at the sensations rushing through you.

“You’re so beautiful,” Max murmurs. “I want to see all of you. Can I?”

Heart pounding, you nod. Together you remove your shirt, leaving you bare before him from the waist up.

His heated gaze travels over you. “Stunning,” he breathes.

Then his hands and mouth are on you again, worshipping every newly exposed inch of skin. You clutch at him desperately, gasping his name.

When his mouth closes over one taut nipple, you cry out, fingers fisting in his hair. He lavishes attention on your breasts until you are shaking with need.

“Max, please,” you beg urgently.

He lifts his head to see your pleading eyes, your kiss-swollen lips. Groaning, he captures your mouth again in a searing kiss.

As his tongue dances with yours, his fingers trail down your body to dip just below the waistband of your pajamas.

You still, breaking the kiss to meet his gaze. The unspoken question hangs in the air between you.

Slowly, you nod.

Reverently he peels your pajamas and underwear down your legs, his hungry eyes drinking you in.

“So perfect,” he tells you huskily.

He begins to touch you in your most intimate places, watching your reactions closely to learn what you like. Soon you are gasping and writhing beneath his attentions, shocked by the pleasure bursting through you.

“That’s it, schatje,” he encourages. “Let go for me.”

You climax with a sharp cry, your body shuddering through wave after wave of new sensations. Max holds you close, whispering words of praise and adoration until you come back down.

When you return to yourself, it is to the feeling of Max tenderly stroking your hair. You smile up at him languidly.

“Wow,” you breathe.

He grins and kisses you sweetly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You laugh softly. “It definitely was one.” Sobering, you trace his beloved face with wondering fingers. “I can’t believe we just did that. I never dreamed I would go that far before marriage.”

Max’s expression turns solemn. “I know how much your vow means to you. We don’t have to go any further tonight if you don’t want to.”

You consider his words. It’s true that you always intended to save the ultimate intimacy for your wedding night. But what you just shared with Max was incredible beyond your wildest imaginings. And you know without doubt that he is your future.

Meeting his gaze, you take his hand and guide it purposefully between your legs in answer.

Max’s eyes flare hotly. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you tell him. “I want you to be my first. My only.”

Needing no further convincing, Max sheds his remaining clothes and comes back to you. He enters you slowly, carefully, murmuring encouragement and praise until he fills you completely.

You cling to each other, overwhelmed by the intimacy of this moment. Then he begins to move. The feelings are even more intense this time, building higher and higher.

“Max!” You cry out as you shatter again, your inner muscles pulsing around him. He follows you over with a guttural groan, spilling himself deep inside you.

Afterward you lie tangled together, replete. Max presses tender kisses across your face. “I love you so much. Thank you for giving me such an incredible gift.”

You cup his cheek. “It was as special for me as it was for you. I love you, Max. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

He grasps your left hand, kissing your ringed finger. “Neither can I. But for now, this is enough. You are enough. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You curl up to Max, settling in against him as your breath evens out. Max smiles as he watches you fall asleep, waiting a bit longer until he’s sure you’ve fully arrived at dreamland.

Then he carefully slips the ring off your finger and struggles a bit at the awkward angle as he leans to open his nightstand drawer, fishing out a small jewelry box. He carefully opens it, his eyes on you as he hears the little click. You don’t stir, and Max breathes out.

He picks up a fine silver chain, slipping the ring onto the necklace. It’s his to wear now.

***

You take a deep breath as you walk into the paddock, Max’s hand clasped firmly in yours. This will be the first time facing your brother since Max claimed your purity for himself. The cool metal of the ring rests against Max’s chest now, physical proof of your commitment to him.

You know Checo will not take it well.

Max gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay, liefje. Your brother loves you. He’ll come around eventually.”

You nod, hoping he’s right. Ever since you left home to travel around the world with him, Checo has been ultra protective of you. The ring was meant to symbolize your promise to save yourself for marriage. Max delighted in taking it from you, marking you as his. Now Checo will see that claim publicly displayed for all to see.

Speak of the devil — Checo emerges from the Red Bull motorhome, his race engineer by his side. His eyes fall on your joined hands first, before traveling up to see Max’s face. Max meets his gaze steadily, chin lifted in challenge.

Sergio’s eyes narrow, darting down to glimpse the unmistakable silver band resting against Max’s team polo. “What the hell is that?” He snarls.

“I think you know exactly what this is,” Max replies calmly. He turns your clasped hands to prominently display your bare finger. “Your sister gave me a gift last night.”

Your cheeks flame but you remain silent, letting Max take the lead. Your brother’s face turns an alarming shade of red. “You bastard,” he spits at Max. “How dare you-”

Max cuts him off. “What I dare is between your sister and myself. But know this-” his voice drops dangerously low. “She is mine now.”

The paddock falls silent, all eyes turning towards the tense standoff. Checo trembles with rage, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I’ll kill you for this,” he hisses.

Max steps forward until they’re nearly nose to nose. “I’d like to see you try,” he sneers.

Your breath catches. You’ve never seen Max like this before, feral and dominant. He looks every inch the alpha male, poised to rip Sergio’s throat out.

Checo makes the mistake of shoving Max’s chest … hard. Before you can blink, Max has your brother against the wall, arm twisted brutally behind his back. Checo cries out in pain.

“Don’t test me again,” Max growls in his ear. “She is mine. It’s for the best that you learn to accept that.”

He releases Checo and steps back, the picture of unruffled calm once more. Checo staggers to his feet, cradling his arm. The paddock is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

Checo’s humiliation wars with his anger. Finally he whirls on you. “How could you do this?” He demands. “After everything we’ve been through together? You gave yourself to this-” he breaks off, voice shaking with emotion.

Your own eyes fill with tears. “Checo, please try to understand,” you plead softly. “I love him. What we have is real.”

“But your promise-”

“I made a new promise last night,” you say. You look at Max, love shining from your eyes. His own gaze softens as it meets yours.

Checo makes a low, wounded sound. “You’re my hermanita. I’m supposed to protect you.”

You go to him then, taking his hands in yours. “You’ll always be my big brother. But it’s time for me to live my own life. Max is who I choose.” You squeeze his hands. “Can you try to accept that?”

Sergio searches your face for a long moment before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I just want you to be happy,” he whispers brokenly.

You cling to him, tears falling down your cheeks. “I am happy,” you assure him. “Happier than I’ve ever been.”

Sergio pulls back, wiping his own eyes. He turns to Max with a shaky sigh. “Take care of her,” he says gruffly. “Or I really will kill you.”

One corner of Max’s mouth quirks up. “Noted.”

Sergio nods once more at Max before turning away, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Max opens his arms and you fly into them, burying your face in his chest. His lips find the top of your hair in a tender kiss. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmurs. You go lax, melting against him, completely emotionally spent.

He keeps his arm locked around you as you make your way out of the paddock, the crowds parting silently before you as the ring gleams brightly against his chest.

It’s his now. You’re his now.

[pukefactory]

After the latest Welcome Home update and the character development we received for Julie, I’ve felt a strong urge to write something about her—and this is the result of some frantic typing, haha! I really enjoyed working on this and have an idea to possibly turn it into a multi-chapter x-reader fanfiction, but I’ll only move forward with that if there’s enough interest. Feel free to let me know if you’d be interested. In the meantime, enjoy this little piece featuring our favorite monster.

-COMET

❀𖤣𖥧𖡼⊱ BABY, WHY DO YOU LOOK SO SCARED? ⊰𖡼𖥧𖤣❀

❀ Summary: A Compilation of Headcannons Featuring Julie Joyful Who Slowly Becomes Obsessed With The Reader

❀ Character(s): Julie Joyful (Welcome Home)

❀ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

❀ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

❀ Image Credits: @Partycoffin

✿ At first, it’s cute. She’s bouncing up to your doorstep every morning with a bright grin and a new game idea. “Wake up, Silly! The flowers said your face needs fresh air! I brought dice and lemon tarts and a spoon! Now we just need a blindfold!” You play along—how could you not? But over time, her visits start earlier. Then earlier. One day, you find her waiting outside your window before the sky has turned blue, waving and tapping her paw against the glass like a metronome. “Couldn’t sleep! I thought of a game! I call it Twilight Breakfast Tag!” She doesn’t blink.

✿ She gives you gifts. Lots of them. Handmade, glitter-caked, often vaguely resembling you. A sock puppet named after you. A spaghetti drawing of your house. A flower crown woven from plants you never planted. “The garden told me your dreams last night were blue. So I made you this! It’s a BLUE-DREAM BONNET!” You smile, say thank you. But later, you notice some petals in the crown are from Frank’s private garden—and he never lets anyone pick from there. “Don’t worry,” she says, when you ask. “Frank doesn’t mind! He just doesn’t know yet!”

✿ Julie always loved making up new games. But lately, the rules have been getting strange. You’re “It” now. Forever. No one else can be “It.” Even when you stop playing. Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re crying. “Oopsie daisy! You can’t quit! You’re the STAR of the show! If you don’t play, the Neighborhood goes dark!” Her smile twitches at the corners. She’s still cheerful. Too cheerful. But her eyes don’t sparkle the same way anymore.

✿ You used to hang out with Frank. With Eddie. With Wally. Now? Every time you try, Julie just… appears. She plops between you and Frank with an exaggerated huff. “Awwwwww, Frankie! You’re not keeping my favorite neighbor to yourself, are you?” Then she throws her arms around you and laughs so loud it drowns out anything Frank tries to say. “I’m just sooooooo jealous! We never play anymore! Let’s fix that! RIGHT NOW!” Her grip doesn’t loosen, even when you pull away.

✿ You tell her you’re busy one day. That you need time alone. Julie goes quiet for the first time. Her head tilts just a bit too far. “…Alone? Without me?” A beat. Then she smiles. “Well, that’s just silly! You can’t spell ‘JULIE’ without ‘U’!” That night, when you get home, your bed’s been made. Your fridge is full of peanut butter and honey sandwiches. There’s a flower tucked in your pillowcase. You never gave her a key.

✿ The neighbors whisper now. You hear Sally mutter something about “Julie being Julie again.” Frank’s been quieter, distracted. He asks if everything’s alright. You lie. But Julie’s not blind. The next time you try to talk to someone alone, she drags you off mid-conversation. “This is OUR Special Time! We can’t let the others get in the way of our bond!” Then she smiles so wide you swear her cheeks might split. “They’re just jealous! They don’t understand the RULES of this game!”

✿ Julie starts wearing pieces of your clothing. “You left this at my house!” she says, even when you know you never visited. “Smells like YOU! So warm and comfy and YOU!” She twirls around in your shirt, giggling like it’s the punchline of the world’s best joke. Later, you notice a cup missing. Then another shirt. Then your spare toothbrush. Julie’s room starts looking eerily familiar. You ask about it, and she says, “Well of COURSE I’m building a YOU corner! Every queen needs her co-star!”

✿ One day you find your name scribbled on the pavement outside your house. Over and over. Hearts around it. Smileys. “Julie + You = Forever!” in bold sidewalk chalk looping endlessly around your front steps. It wraps around the base of your home. Up the mailbox. Even over the windows. “It’s a Surprise Sidewalk Spectacle!” Julie sings, arms flung wide. “I wanted to see your smile first thing in the morning!” But her eyes don’t match her voice. They’re desperate.

✿ She starts talking to your reflection. You catch her giggling into the mirror in your hallway. “Oh! You’re such a card! We’re so perfect together! Aren’t we? Aren’t we?” She’s holding one of your shirts, petting it like it’s alive. You freeze. Julie sees you, but doesn’t flinch. “Shhh. Don’t interrupt! You were telling me all your secret secrets!” Her expression turns serious and her tone flattens. “And you said you’d never leave me.”

✿ The last straw is when you try to go. She catches you at the edge of the Neighborhood. Breathless. Still smiling. “You can’t leave yet! The game’s not over! Don’t you remember? You’re It!” You run. You don’t get far. The trees around the place are strange. Too twisty. Too bright. The sky doesn’t move right. Julie’s voice echoes everywhere. “Come back, come back, come back! I’m sorry, just—!” Then silence. When you open your door the next morning, she’s sitting on your porch. Covered in glitter and dirt. Cradling a piece of your torn clothing, whispering to herself “I’ll give them everything they want. I don’t understand why they keep running. Am I not enough?...” You had never heard her voice drop so low. Now you know that all her blunder, all her cheer, it’s just a facade and the Julie Joyful who was sitting in front of your house, back turned, was the real deal.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Seven - Proposing

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You are part of Jessie's future and she wants to make it official. With a ring and a plan, she lets you know how much you and your growing family mean to her.

Warnings: G!P smut. G!P sex, preg and breeding kinks, some possessive language/content, language.

A/N: Mostly fluff, but a bit of smut as well. The rest of the series can be found here. Thank you all for reading!

“Jess!”

“Yeah?” Jessie called back, her gaze lifting from her bag towards the bedroom.

“Can you come here?” You called back.

Jessie huffed quietly. She was focused on making sure absolutely everything was in order and didn’t want to get distracted. She triple checked the placement of the small black box before she zipped up the bag and headed into the bedroom where you were getting changed.

She’d planned a hike for you two this morning. Nothing crazy strenuous, but a lesser known, still very scenic path that she hoped wouldn’t be too busy at this hour.

When Jessie walked in she saw you standing sideways in front of the mirror and examining your profile. You had your shirt raised and your pants undone with one hand gliding over your stomach. You looked up to her as she approached.

“I think I’m starting to show,” you relayed with an undertone of wonderment. You eyes returned to the mirror. “Or my pants are just snug because of, you know, all my snacking lately.”

Jessie vaguely registered your joke and offered a faint laugh, but she was much too focused on the first half of what you said. Her eyes were set on your torso as she came up, she laid two hands on your stomach, her thumbs softly caressing and feeling.

She felt your eyes on her and she lowered herself to knees in front of you to get a better look. Tension settled in her forehead as she examined you, looking for signs of what she’d been hoping to see from the beginning.

A slow smile spread across her face as she noted the slightest swell. She looked up at you right away, eyes shimmering and meeting your curious frown. She kissed your stomach.

“I think you’re showing, too,” Jessie said brightly.

You were nearly at the 4 month mark, so it was still a touch early, but all things indicated that your baby was growing well and growing strong, so showing now was entirely possible. Sure, you’d been bloated at various times, of course, but this seemed different.

She laid another, lingering kiss on the slight swell of your stomach where your baby was starting to make themselves known. She pulled back, looking at the very subtle bump, her hands still resting on it.

“Hi,” Jessie said, her voice soft but brimming with excitement. “Hi my little one. Are you growing nice and big for us? Momma’s doing such a good job of taking care of you.” She offered you a smile. “Gosh, I can’t believe we’ll finally be able to see you. In some sense anyway. Pretty soon you’ll be able to give us a soft,” she gave you an exaggerated look, “kick to let us know you’re good and happy.”

You rest one hand on top of Jessie’s and the other caressed her hair. You looked down to your stomach as well.

“Considering who your mommy is, you’ll probably be quite the kicker,” you chuckled, stroking your stomach now. “Try to go easy on me.”

Jessie laughed and kissed your belly once more.

“Alright, little one. I’m going to take Momma on a nice hike this morning. Get some fresh air, get the blood flowing. And someday, we’ll get to take you on hikes too. Carrying you on my back, your little head peeking over my shoulder as you’re pointing at all the trees and things you’re curious about - I can’t wait to show you and tell you all about them.”

A light blush formed on her face as she stood up, now more fully aware of your adoring gaze. She smiled coyly as you kissed her cheek. She pulled you into a gentle hug before stepping back.

“Are you okay to wear these?” She asked as she gestured to your hiking pants. No stores would be open right now, so if you needed a new pair, there was no way you’d be on the trail before the crowds. A small wave of anxiety started to build in the back of Jessie’s mind at the thought, but it quickly diminished with a nod of your head.

“They’re tight, but they’re fine. I’ll need something a bit more forgiving soon though,” you said with a laugh.

“Okay, sounds good.”

——————

Jessie carried the backpack as you two walked the trail between the trees. Rays of light from the early sun filtered through the branches and leaves and Jessie shouldn’t have been surprised to see at least a few other people on the trail, but it worked her up nonetheless.

“Can we stop for a sec?” You asked as you stilled and she stopped with you. “I need some water.”

“Of course,” Jessie said readily as she retrieved the water bottle and handed it to you.

You gulped down a few sips and offered it back to her with a slight frown.

“Are you okay? You’re awfully quiet this morning,” you teased lightly.

Jessie’s eyebrows raised in surprise as she took a swig of water.

“Oh? No, I’m fine. I’m just appreciating my surroundings,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“Alright, if you say so,” you said, not entirely convinced, but accepting it regardless.

“How are you feeling? Okay still?” Jessie inquired. You gave her a slightly chiding look.

“I’m totally fine. Thank you for asking though.”

She nodded and offered you the water bottle again, which you waved off. She tucked it away.

“Ready to go?”

It was true that she was quieter than usual, and that remained true as you carried on up the trail. Jessie had idly thought about this moment for years, but in recent months it was crisp, clear and front of mind.

She thought anxiously about the little box she tucked away earlier. Did she put it in there? Yes. Did she check that the ring was inside? Yes - where else would it be? What was she going to say? She knew. And even if she didn’t, her feelings for you were so deeply engrained she could’ve come up with something on the spot anyway.

She was driving herself crazy. She barely slept the night before. And she knew it was silly. You were having her baby, thrilled about it too, you were buying a house together, you were so compatible - she knew you would say ‘yes’. Yet, she laid there last night as cuddled up to you as she could get without waking you, nervous, yet one look at you put her at ease.

It filled her with a sense of awe - taking in your sleeping form last night or glancing over at you this morning as you walked - this woman who, years and years prior, Jessie didn’t even know existed, but now could never live without.

In some ways it was hard to picture a life before you. And it’s not that she felt unhappy before you - she’d had a very good, privileged life, full of loving family, great friends, and amazing experiences. Sure, her romantic life had never really been much to shout about, but she hadn’t really cared. She had more than enough to keep her busy and her life didn’t lack for care and love.

Yet, once you came into her life, from the moment her chest first twinged when you laughed at one of her lame jokes and smiled at her the way you do, everything changed. How could life have been complete before you? It certainly wouldn’t be without you, now.

Jessie was so lost in her thoughts that before she knew it you were both arriving at the ridge. You stopped as you reached the lookout.

“Oh my gosh, it’s beautiful, Jess,” you said as you surveyed the view before you. “Oh, look, you can see the river cutting through over there.”

She looked to where you pointed, but frankly she was more enamoured with the pink tinge of your cheeks, the dewiness of your skin and the way your shoulders rose and fell.

Her eyes were trained on you as she swung her backpack around and unzipped it. She reached it, but stilled when she heard voices coming up the path behind her.

You both looked over your shoulders to see a couple walking up. Jessie subconsciously frowned at them, glaring probably, but relaxed her features when they smiled at you both and gave a small wave of greeting.

Jessie huffed quietly as she snuck the box into her pocket and flung her bag back over her shoulder.

“Let’s take a picture,” you told her as you beckoned her in. She tried to refocus on the moment and gave you a delayed smile as she wrapped an arm around you and you took a few photos together. She snuck a kiss against your cheek and adored the way you giggled about it.

Jessie walked around, very determinedly looking around and taking pictures as she waited out the other couple. They were finally retreating down the path when suddenly spotted a few bright pops of colour approaching through the trees.

“Are you kidding me?” She thought as a new set of hikers approach. She exhaled steadily through her nose and kicked lightly at the ground.

“When do you want to go back?” You asked after a few more minutes.

“Um, I’m just capturing a few more pics,” she said with a shrug as she continued to look through the viewfinder of her camera. You nodded an occupied yourself by wandering elsewhere on the ridge.

Several more minutes passed and Jessie could feel the tension in her shoulders growing as the other group lingered.

"I love that you appreciate nature the way that you do, but I'm going to have to go pee if we stay up here for that much longer," you told her and Jessie let out an irritated sigh. You shot her a look. "Oh, I'm sorry if your baby pushing on my bladder is an inconvenience for you," you said only half joking. "I'm fine peeing in the bush, I was just letting you know. Geez."

Now Jessie was really stressed. She shot a mild glare at the hikers who now finally seemed to be gathering up their things to leave.

"I'm sorry, babe," Jessie said imploringly, though her eyes were still on the group. She lowered her voice. "I just- I'm just irritated that there are other hikers here. It's not you. I promise."

"Why does that matter?"

Jessie didn't answer right away as her eyes followed the group disappearing down the path. She waited them out and could feel the annoyance start to emanate off of you.

As the last person disappeared out of sight she spun around on her heel to face you, that weight of tension dissipating immediately only to be replaced with a new kind as she stood before you and the significance of this moment began to mount.

You stood before her, arms now folded over your chest as you scrutinized her before holding out a hand in question. Despite how cross you were, Jessie couldn't help but smile at you.

"What?" You asked, mild irritation in your voice.

Jessie continued to smile at you. "I just love you," she said simply.

You rolled your eyes and looked away, but allowed a half smile to peek out across your lips.

"Yeah, alright," you mumbled, granting a small glance back at her, the smile on your face more than a hint now.

"I really do," she repeated. You looked at her again, now holding her gaze and she knew you were about to fire a quip of some kind at her. She spoke first.

"I have for so long," she went on. "When we first met, sitting around that boardroom I couldn't stop looking at you." You smirked, laughing lightly.

"I noticed," you said, as you always did when you both talked about that moment. Jessie chuckled and took your hands in hers.

"It wasn't just how you looked. It was how you carried yourself. The way you spoke. The way you approached things. Without even knowing you, I was curious to know your opinions, your thoughts - I wanted to know everything," she said.

"And thankfully we had to keep talking," you added. You shrugged playfully. "Which was alright. A few people around the office had talked about what a big deal it was having you onside for a project; guess I had to see what the fuss was all about."

"And thankfully I impressed you enough that you were willing to go for coffee with me even though the collab was over," she said. "You made me so nervous, yet entirely calm at the same time. I was already falling for you by the time we went on that date. By the end? It was a done deal."

"Date," you emphasized with a laugh as Jessie chuckled. "I still can't believe you didn't tell me that was a date."

She tilted her chin up pridefully with a grin. "I knew it was a date." She lifted your hand and kissed it, pulling a smirk out of you.

"Well, I figured it out when you kissed me at the end," you teased. Jessie gave an exaggerated shrug.

"What can you do? When it's right, it's right." She grew earnest. "And with you, it's the only time it's felt right to me. From the beginning to now. Every up, and even the downs - I've never had any doubt that we would ride them out together. That we'd choose each other every night and every day. Whether it's something small or simple, like going to the market together or tidying up the apartment, or something huge, like starting a family together - it's you and only you for me."

Jessie took in the soft smile on your face as she spoke and noted the shift of surprise as she lowered herself to one knee and released your hand to reach into her pocket. She couldn't help but laugh affectionately at the expression on your face as she revealed the small box and opened it before you.

When she'd pictured this moment, she anticipated she'd be a bundle of nerves, heart racing, pulse pounding in her ears. Instead, she smiled up at you and spoke easily.

"You've been so much more to me than a girlfriend for so long. And there is absolutely no word or title that could properly capture what you mean to me, but, until there's something even more, I would be honoured to call you my wife. Y/N, will you marry me?"

"Jess," you said sweetly with a soft laugh as you gave her a light tug, coaxing her to her feet and you pulled her into a kiss. "Of course I will," you said when you pulled back, a hand on her cheek. Jessie beamed with a happy laugh and you pulled her into a tight hug.

You suddenly laughed as you held one another in this embrace. "I was going to say, 'You don't even have to ask' but I guess you do."

Jessie chuckled and gave you a squeeze before pulling back and kissing you once more.

"Are you going to wear my ring or what?" She joked as she held up the box. "You're doing this all out of order."

"Then put it on me," you said with as you held out her hand for her. She smiled at you before she slid the ring onto your finger. She looked up at you inquiringly as you held your hand up to look at the ring.

"It's beautiful, Jess," you told her and she set her shoulders back proudly at your approval. You narrowed your eyes at her teasingly. "And just because I'm going to be your wife doesn't mean you can control me. I'll do things in whatever order I want," you went on haughtily.

"Don't I know it," she accepted with an affectionate smirk.

You kissed her once more and when you drew back, the expression on your face cause Jessie to frown.

"I hope you're not just proposing because I'm pregnant. I'm not that traditional - clearly," you questioned. "I only want to get married if that's truly what you want. Not just because you feel the two have to go hand in hand."

Jessie was shaking her head adamantly before you were even done speaking.

"That's not it. I guess it seems that way, but no. You were going to be my wife at one point or another - granted you'd say 'yes' -" she interjected with a mumble, "so why not now? I mean, we've lived together for years, we're having a baby together, we're buying a house together. We're as good as married, why not make it official?"

You gave her a soft smile and kissed her cheek.

"True. And let me be really clear - yes, I do want to marry you. But," Jessie's chest seized up and she did her best to not show it. "because of all the things you mentioned, I don't want to get married now."

"I-I don't understand," Jessie said, blinking at you as she tried to process your wishes.

You moved in closer to her, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck and looked into her eyes. Jessie held you in her arms, the feeling so natural despite the uncertainty around what you meant.

"We're having a baby. We're buying a house and moving. A wedding alone would be a huge undertaking - as much as both of us would want something small and intimate, I really don't know how it'll be possible - so especially in that case, it's going to take a lot of planning and effort. I just feel like we have so much on our plate already. I think our little one is setting the timeline for us - calling the shots already, can you believe it?" You paused with a smile, but carried on as Jessie's expression remained unchanged.

"I don't want to rush a wedding. And, say what you want, but the thought of being pregnant during our wedding or leading up to it just doesn't sound like fun. And I'd love for our baby to be part of our day. All I'm saying is, I don't know when we'll get married. But yes, I absolutely want to marry you."

"That's more than good enough for me. Sounds incredible, in fact," Jessie accepted with a nod, nerves now settled and her mind now thinking about your baby being part of wedding. "They could be in our pictures. Maybe a little, tiny ring bearer - oh my gosh," she went on. You laughed adoringly.

"You're such a softie," you teased. Jessie snuck a kiss.

"To be clear, I wasn't necessarily thinking of a wedding right away, I just wanted to make it official that I want you to be my wife, and I want to be yours."

"I love that," you told her as you gave her a slow kiss. You held up her hand in yours after. "Can we get you a ring now, too? If I'm going to wear your ring for the next couple of years, I want you to wear one as well."

Jessie smiled brightly, her chest warming at the thought of you wanting to stake claim on her as well.

"That sounds amazing to me."

-------

That afternoon, Jessie laid freshly showered on the bed in shorts and a t-shirt reading as she waited for you to finish showering. You came out wrapped in a towel and walked over to the dresser to start pulling some clothes out.

"Hey, this first," Jessie said as she beckoned you over, your ring held between her fingers. You smiled and walked over to her side of the bed and held out your hand for her. She beamed as she slid the ring onto your finger again.

"You look very pleased with yourself," you teased as you eventually pulled your hand back.

"That's one way of putting it," she reciprocated with a smug grin. "I think it looks perfect on your hand. Can't believe I didn't give you a ring sooner."

You snickered at her. "I'm a little surprised too considering how possessive you can be." As if on cue, Jessie's eyes flashed with that familiar sensation.

"Mm," she voiced, gripping your hand again and pulling you onto the bed. You held your towel as you straddled her and she placed a hand over yours. "Come on, baby. You don't need this."

You gave her a knowing smirk and allowed her to pull the towel away from your body.

"You're so gorgeous. And you're mine," Jessie said, nearly in a daze as she took you in. "If not for this," she held up your hand, the diamonds in the ring catching the rays of sun that filtered into the room, "then for this," she went on as she laid her other hand atop the subtle swell of your stomach.

"Shit, Jess," you said as you bit your lip and looked away. You returned to meet her with a teasing gaze. "I thought you said you wanted to go to the store."

"The store can wait," she said as she gently rolled her hips up into you, her cock already starting to harden. "I'd rather take care of my fiancée."

"Is that so?" You said playfully as you began to ground yourself back against her.

"Mhmm," Jessie said, her hands now gripping your hips, thumbs digging into the tops of your thighs. She smirked. "We have to consummate our engagement. That's a thing, right?"

"Mm," you nodded. "Definitely."

"Promise me one thing?" You prompted as you continued to work yourself against her. Jessie exhaled unsteadily as she saw cum marks on her shorts from where you were grinding against her.

"Anything," Jessie puffed out as her hands moved with your hips.

"Promise me we'll get married before you knock me up again," you said very nonchalantly. Jessie's eyes shot up from your heat up to your face at the request.

You chuckled and rolled your hips skillfully against her. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she held her breath in her lungs. She exhaled in a laugh at how you smiled, very satisfied with yourself.

"Well, based on everything that's occurred over the past few months. Including how your cock is aching to be inside of me again at the mention of how I'm starting to swell with your baby, I'd say you may be eager for us to make baby #2 sooner rather than later."

"Fuck," Jessie released in a slow breath. "Jesus Christ, babe," she went on as she began to grind herself up into your with greater force.

"Let's get these clothes off of you," you said benevolently as you swung a leg off of her and began to undress her.

Soon enough, you were straddling her once more, your slick folds sliding directly along the length of her cock which was pressed flat against her lower torso now.

"So? Do you promise?" You asked as you slowly slid up and down her, causing her whole body to jolt when you slid against the head of her cock before sliding back down.

She exhaled through her mouth as you rubbed yourself up and down her, small moans starting to fall from your lips as you angled your clit against her. She pulsed as she watched the way her cock spread your lips and you began to coat her length with your arousal.

"I promise," Jessie told you, dragging her eyes up your body to meet yours. "You may need to remind me though," she added with a smirk.

She exhaled again, trying to steady herself as she helped guide your movements. "You are so tempting and you looking so gorgeous already carrying my baby."

"I'll try to remind you," you told her teasingly before you leaned further forward, allowing Jessie's cock to rise up. You positioned yourself and slowly sank down onto her, both of you moaning at the feeling.

Okay. Yes. Fucking you bare and raw with the pure intent of giving you her baby or simply worshiping you for carrying her baby was going to be something she'd miss.

Jessie's mouth hung open as you began to steadily rise and fall on her cock, her fingers digging into your hips to the point that her fingertips were nearly white.

"God, you're beautiful," she said in devotion as she gazed at you. "I can't believe you're going to be my wife."

You leaned down, kissing her deeply as your rode her, rolling your hips in emphasis.

"And you'll be mine."

Jessie sat up, wrapping her arms around your waist as she did so and you braced your hands on her shoulders. She held you in her embrace and kissed you deeper. Though she loved admiring you as you rode her, she wanted to be closer to you and feel you against her as you made love.

"I love you so much," she proclaimed as she began kissing your neck.

"God," you breathed between moans, "I love you, too."

As she held you in her arms, she was overwhelmed.

First, there was the incomparable feeling of how you wrapped tightly around her cock, massaging her up and down as you rode her, along with the sounds of your soft breaths and moans filling her head.

Then there was the reality that you were finally showing; the life that you both made was growing inside of you and your body was changing with it. Jessie could see it, she could feel it; it was a gentle, barely there curve of your stomach, but it was there and it had her feeling so many ways.

And now, you were going to be her wife. It was official. You were wearing her ring and she'd wear yours.

Jessie looked up at you, your cheeks flushed, lips parted as you grew closer and closer to your high. She felt tears prick at the corner of her eyes as all of these emotions and feelings collided. She couldn't believe how lucky she was.

"I love you more than anything," she professed as she kissed down your neck. "My beautiful wife."

"I love you too, Jess. So much. But I'm not your wife just yet," you said with a teasing nibble at her earlobe. She pulled back and gave you a deep frown.

"Don't," she warned.

"What?" You asked innocently as you lifted up and down repeatedly, knowing her so well that you rose exactly to the point where she could nearly pop out to tease her sensitive tip, before sinking down and engulfing her once more. You panted. "Are you picturing me with someone else?"

Jessie growled, clutching you tighter against her and you laughed before giving her a placating kiss.

"Don't be silly. I need to lock you down. I know girls are always fawning over you. It would be easy for you to be with someone else."

"I don't want anyone else," she responded unequivocally. She held your gaze. "I want you. I want your mind, your body, your soul, your time - I want everything."

She didn't break her gaze. Sometimes you two talked dirty during sex, and sometimes your most open and vulnerable declarations were during it. Regardless of where you fell on this, she needed you to hear her. You kissed her slowly, your hands cupping her face.

"Then I'm yours."

"Always," Jessie said, thrusting harder up into you now. "I need you."

You wrapped your arms more fully around her and rode her faster. "I need you too."

Sweat sheened on both your skin as you both drew closer to your climax.

"Jess," you panted. "I'm so close. I need you to cum inside me."

"Oh fuck," she groaned as a wave of pleasure shot through her length at just the mention of spilling inside of you.

She felt your nails dig into her back and she let out a groan deep in her throat as you began to pulse around her cock and you grasped her body tightly against you, whimpering in her ear.

Jessie let out a cry as she let go and ropes of cum began to coat your insides. Her fingers dug into the small of your back and you arched into her even further as she rest her teeth against your shoulder, and used every ounce of will to not bite down.

You'd stilled, your breathing ragged, and after a while Jessie softened inside of you. When you eventually went to get off of her, she helped you as your legs shook slightly.

Jessie looked down at the pool of cum that had leaked out of you and onto the bed. She smirked at you. "So much for clean sheets."

"Clean sheets? So much for having a shower."

"Well," Jessie said slowly as she kissed your shoulder and began kissing down your arm, "if you're going to shower again, first, we might as well really make it worth it. And secondly, I can help you shower."