#it's the yearning for more without ever being able to ask for it.

[james-stark-the-writer]

sigh. so i saw the video on Ocean Waves's "accidental" queer narrative. and it's such a frustrating watch bc it fundamentally, and WILLFULLY, misunderstands the text so much that it truly baffles me. it is like they didn't even understand the fucking point of the movie. it's actually weirdly basically a lot of the same criticism that (500) Days of Summer got actually, because people can't fucking understand the point of the coming-of-age narratives that both the movies are presenting, and that they are not unbiased narrations, they both have a very specific point of view and it's for a reason!!!

[moechies]

riding toji ; what a pain ! 。・゜・(ノД`)・゜・。

finger in butt :o , riding , faux dubcon , anal mention

ever since he asked you to get on top, he was whipped. he doesn’t think there’s anything better than this, pretty tits bouncing up in his face, your twitching cunny fervently around his cock, and your desperate grapples at his arm for help. oh, this is perfect; this is what life is all about.

he especially loves when you give up, your soft body plaint against his bulky, hot one as you hide your flushed face in the cove of his shoulder. you feel his hard stomach under yours, abs and pecs pressing into your skin.

he can’t help but scale his fingers down your figure in your moment of rest, admiring each and every cell that forms your gorgeous shape, gentle fingers pinching the skin of your waist.

he sets his eyes on the mound of your butt, his trailing finger slowly crawling against a forbidden region; your butthole.

you’re dazed and fucked out of your mind, yearning for nothing more but to fall asleep with a click, but the heavy cock that lays within your gummy walls prevents you from doing so. while you’re distracted, you feel a singular ragged finger drag its way along the crevice of your mound, pressing against the puckered, virgin hole above your tainted cunny;

“n—no ! not there toji…” you whine, shaking your head against his shoulder. it’s hard for you to scramble away despite your tried efforts, his lodged cock keeping you still.

you know he would take you however he desired to, despite your little begs of no. nothing you say matters when you’re laying against him without a single ounce of strength remaining in your body, solely waiting for the man to get impatient and end up fucking you to sleep.

his thick finger relentlessly presses into the resisting hole, making you cry out. your nails dig into the sweat-gleaming muscle of the man, causing him to let out a light hiss.

“damn tight, little girl .” he chuckles, bucking his hips up into your cunt, readjusting your position on top. you squeal, pounding your fist against his chest with a complaining mewl. he’s so abrupt. he continues your efforts, a hand laid against your back to keep you pliant against him as he rocks his hips gently against your warmth. a thick finger prodding itself in and out of your butthole, and it’s all too much.

“noooo—“ you cry, humping your ass back into his palm. “hnnn… h—hurts back there.” he laughs at the irony of it all; he knows you’re feeling good, what can he say ? he knows how to make you feel great. he knows it’s all a ploy in able to get him to praise you, praise you for being such a good girl, for taking everything he’s giving you, and it works.

“shh, my sweet girl. takin’ m’finger so well. good, good girl .”

you let out a wanton moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure, just as the chubby tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. his finger pumps a tad faster, a tad deeper and it fills you so wrongfully well.

“y’gonna take my cock in here next time, hm? that’s what the best girls do.”

[crescenthistory]

You Too, Silly

Pairing: Bartylus x Reader (Starkiller x Reader)

Summary: When your two best friends fall in love and make it official, you try to be happy for them despite your heartbreak. When they keep flirting with you, though, things grow complicated.

Words: 8.8k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, poly relationship obvi, miscommunication trope, pining & yearning, hurt/comfort, (some) angst with a (very) happy ending, your pov and you think your love is unrequited, it is not!, all three of you are stupid but you're in love so it's fine, kissing while crying, some slight suggestiveness but overall safe for minors, light drinking at a slytherin party

Note: this is my hard launch of romanian!barty mwah – if you don't like it sorry not sorry, this is my barty now!

Being in love with your two best friends hurts.

Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other hurts perhaps even more.

Being in love with your two best friends who are in a committed relationship with each other, yet for some reason seem hellbent on jokingly flirting with you at any given moment could be considered a form of torture.

And for the past few weeks, Barty Crouch Junior and Regulus Black have been putting you through nothing short of torture.

As any relationship either boy has sustained throughout their lives, your friendship with them was complicated. When you and your dorm mate Dorcas first began integrating yourselves in the friend group that consisted of Barty, Regulus and the elusive Rosier twins, you had both said you might come to regret it. You remember clearly sitting up one night and talking about it – you both thought it would end in flames, yet somehow you couldn’t help but poke the bear. You would prefer to fly under the radar, avoid any more pain than you had already had to grapple with, but you also craved a sense of belonging and figured it was worth the risk.

And oh, were you rewarded. 

No friend had treasured you the way Barty does. The second he decided he “liked your vibe” as he put it when he cut you off mid-sentence during your first proper hang-out, you had a loyal guard dog who would kill for you and then demand cuddles as payment. Almost overnight, wherever you went, Barty wouldn’t be far behind, no questions asked. He was fierce in his love, uninhibited and wild. It made you feel important in a way that sizzled over your skin.

In Regulus, you found a quiet understanding no one else had been able to give you before. He was both a mirror held up to your face and a cushioned bench to share during your turmoils. It seemed like he could read your every thought, every experience, like the books you would bond over. Silences shared with Regulus often gave you more than long conversations with others ever could. While he didn’t declare your friendship in the same way Barty did, he still had this simple way of making you feel seen and known.

They quickly cemented themselves at the root of your heart. They were your best friends, and you theirs. Your boys; with their respective green and white strands in their curly hair, who were misunderstood in each their way yet were never a mystery to you.

Perhaps naively, you had always thought there was a certain tension there, that something ran deeper below the surface. Barty was physically affectionate with all his friends, but the way he reached out for you felt differently charged. The only other person he held as long as he did you, was Regulus. It felt right. Likewise, you had yet to be in a room with Regulus without feeling his eyes on you, and you often absentmindedly compared the feeling to when Barty hugs you – they were equivalents, those gazes were the former boy’s version of affection. When you played spin the bottle during an after-party in the boys’ dorm one night, Barty’s grin had widened brilliantly when it landed on you and Regulus. You had sworn you had seen a hunger in his eyes when he watched you share the brief kiss, and you could still hear the soft sigh Regulus breathed against your lips. Again, it all felt so right. 

It went unspoken, but you thought that was because it did not need to – not because it was not there.

You knew, of course, that you had been stupidly delusional when Barty hauled Regulus with him into the Great Hall a month ago, hands intertwined, and announced with his signature Cheshire cat smile that he “finally got the boy”. You saw them making out – rather publicly – at the quidditch victory party the night before, but at the time it had only made you smile. It was odd, how you hadn’t realised that kiss was proof that all this tension really was just the two of them. Not before the words left Barty’s mouth did it hit you that this was a part of them you were not involved in. That felt decidedly wrong, but you shoved it down and joined in on the wolf whistling and congratulations, pushing your plate away in the chaos, unable to take another bite.

Since then, you have just tried to be happy for them. Or at least seem it.

Tried to smile through it all as Barty made sure their honeymoon phase was as public as humanly possible, much to Regulus’ ongoing chagrin. Tried to laugh at the quips your friends made, the “get a room you two”s and the “lovebirds”s, though you were never able to dish them out yourself, instead just humming along in agreement whenever Dorcas or Evan did. Tried to stiffen your mask to the point where it could not crack underneath the pressure of emotion, perfectly polished as you originally intended for it to be. All those years ago, before they had ensured you would not need it – you gave yourself a silent thank you for your previous doomsday caution. 

You even tried not to avoid Barty and Regulus, to be normal. Why should they be punished by losing one of their best friends because they had the audacity not to fall in love with her too? While you thought yourself generally successful in not showing disdain for their new relationship, this was the one aspect you struggled the most with. Your instinct was to run away and it physically pained you not to. In the few weeks they had been together, you had not been able to stomach being alone with just the two of them and confront their relationship in such close proximity – but you knew you could not avoid them altogether. Instead, you tried to always attach yourself at Dorcas’ hip and always invite the rest of your friends if Barty and Regulus wanted to do something with you. They ask you to study out by the Black Lake? Fantastic, you, Dorcas and Pandora have an Astronomy project you need to work on anyway. They want to visit that one store in Hogsmeade with you? How convenient that Evan was discussing how he needed something from there earlier, and if he goes, then Pandora goes and if she goes Dorcas can’t be the only one left behind, can she?

To offset any accusation that you were not spending time with them alone, you still spent time with them one on one when you knew the other would be busy – just seeing Regulus or Barty was not too bad, it was seeing them as a couple, knowing it did not include you, that you could not withstand. If you were alone with one, you could just pretend nothing changed. 

You made sure you focused on these ‘rules’ in your mind, the carefully constructed plan on how to make it through the year. Somehow you did not have it in you to wish they would break up and put you out of your misery – you wanted them, not just one – so instead you set your sights on graduation day. What you would do afterwards, you did not yet know. Disappear off the face of the earth? Become an Unspeakable as an excuse not to ever see them again? Endless possibilities. You zeroed your focus on your coursework and these measures you must take to protect your heart and sanity – if you filled your mind like this, maybe you could distract yourself from the pain that leaked through your body.

Barty remaining his flirtatious self whenever he was around you and Regulus’ simmering dedication to you seemingly only building, was decidedly not helping your case.

Which is how you ended up in this admittedly awkward cat and goose chase.

“There you are!” Not only did you hear Barty’s screech the moment he laid his eyes on you – everyone else in the library did as well, going by the shushes and ugly glares you both received that Barty paid zero mind to. “Dragă, I have been going crazy without you, where have you been?”

He plopped down on the bench beside you instead of any of the readily available chairs around the table, thigh flush against yours. “Good morning, B,” you whispered, hoping to lower his volume with yours.

The ever-growing grin on his face told you he likely understood your attempt. His hair was still damp from his morning shower and hanging slightly in front of his eyes, but you could see the sparkle there you thought was reserved for you. “Good morning,” he stage-whispered dramatically, to show his abiding of library law. Then, he pressed a smacking kiss to your cheek before pulling up his books. “Tell me, why are we studying on a weekend morning?”

This was the kind of activity that caused your delusion. It was early on a Sunday, arguably too early, and you had snuck out of your dorm to the library before anyone else woke so you would not be roped into any heartbreaking hangout. Yet, upon your absence, Barty went looking for you before doing his hair or anything – and when he found you studying, as he likely assumed you would be, he just joined you. There was no reason for him to.

You had been staring at him a tad bit too incredulously for a tad bit too long, so he gave you a cheeky sideway glance while he readied his books. “Too early for you too, baby?”

You shook your head, but couldn’t stop the laugh escaping you. “Maybe I’m just shocked at seeing you voluntarily in the library. I usually have to drag you here.”

“Yeah, because usually I have you with me somewhere more fun when you try to go to the library,” he explained to you matter-of-factly. “Now that you are here from the get-go, I accept my fate that this is where we’ll be. For now.”

“Lucky me.” You poked him lightly in the side to emphasise your sarcasm before you tried to return to your books, though your attention was thoroughly divided.

“I reckon I am the lucky one who gets to spend time with the fittest babe in the castle.”

You snorted at the same time as your heart shattered further – an odd reaction none other than Barty could draw from you. Those comments are not only how you got in this whole emotional mess to begin with, but felt like genuine ice shards spearing through your flesh. You were guilt-ridden as you revelled in them, and begged the gods he would stop.

“And I reckon,” you teasingly copied, hoping to sound level-headed and not agonised, “that Regulus would not appreciate having that title taken away from him.”

“Regulus is a fit babe,” Barty said dreamily, unaffected by your correction. “But he would agree that the title belongs to you, Dragă.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Barty was incredibly particular in how he showed affection, and flirting with you explicitly was not at all out of character for him. You just, perhaps bitterly, hoped that maybe he would stop, if he was to be in a monogamous relationship with one of his two best friends.

“What’ll you be working on?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation. 

Likely entirely unaware of your attempt, Barty allowed you, delving into a longer rant about what extra assignment Professor Flitwick had assigned him because he “saw potential in you, young man”, which he of course found to be utter “trollpiss”. It was familiar, working side by side while also not studying at all, gossiping like the two best friends you are. It should be lovely, and you kicked yourself for being hung up on it just being friendly, when friendliness in itself is a gift you should be grateful for.

While you tried to allow yourself to enjoy Barty’s company and not be guilty for how hard you noticed where his body touched yours, you kept your eye on the clock. Regulus had prefect rounds on Sunday mornings, but as soon as he finished them, he would seek the two of you out. 

You had to get away from Barty before then.

“While this was lovely,” you said with a forced airy tone, “I have to get going now, B.”

“Cool, where’re we goin’?”

Your pageant winner smile wavered slightly as he immediately began to pack up his belongings, considering it a given that he would join you in your endeavours. “I don’t think so. I’m heading to meet with the Hufflepuff third years I tutor, and I believe it would be considered a crime to introduce them to you when they’ve just stopped being scared of me.”

Not technically a lie. You picked up a massive amount of extracurriculars after Regulus and Barty became official, and tutoring Hufflepuffs was part of it. Though you had no scheduled study session with them today, you knew at least two of them were still too much of a pushover to say no to you if you headed over there. Innocent casualties in your escapades. 

Barty immediately pouted. “No fun,” he whined, sitting back down before you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you flush to him so he could rest his forehead on your stomach in defeat. “Why do you have to be such a swot? I miss you.”

You hoped he couldn’t hear your heart flutter at the sentiment. You brought a shaky, selfish hand up to card lightly through his hair, separating the green from the black. “Sorry, B. Duty calls and you know how much I love to be a hero.”

“No hero would leave such a perfect victim like me destitute and alone.” He moved his chin to rest against your flesh so he could look up at you in faux misery.

“Good thing you have Regulus, then.” You feared your voice was more pointed than you wanted it to be. It did not go with the pleasant mask you tried to wear, but the mask never fit quite right around Barty.

Something odd flashed across his eyes at your words and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Whether he wanted to say something that would explain it, you would not find out, because you gave his hair one last ruffle before patting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

“I’ll see you for dinner, alright B? Don’t worry about me.” You turned around and walked away without waiting for a response.

It still came behind you, sounding too much like the ache in your own chest. “Counting down the minutes!”

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You survived the rest of the Sunday with little to no incident; as in, you avoided being alone with Regulus and Barty, ensuring the friend group ate together and sat together in the common room afterwards. When Pandora retreated to head to bed, you immediately used the excuse to slither away too, lest you end up trapped with just the two of them by the fire.

Dorcas opened the door to your dorm just a few minutes after you had settled down on your bed to reread your comfort novel. You looked up with a warm, small smile to greet her, but it slipped away as you saw her eyeing you carefully. Neither of you said anything before she was sat on her own bed opposite you, studying you. There was this crackling ferocity to Dorcas’ silences that would make even the strongest man cave – and you were not feeling particularly strong lately.

“Spit it out.” It was all she said.

You sighed and put your book aside, straightening up in your previously comfortable position. “What is it, Cas?”

She gave you a stern but not unkind look. “You’re different. Why?”

“Different how?” You stalled.

She indulged you. “You’re not yourself, babe. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you act like you’re programmed and not like you’re living. I want to know what’s wrong. I want to help.”

The staggering, almost fragmented way she spoke was in part to spoon-feed you her concern so that you might actually answer her truthfully and in part how Dorcas was with emotions. She had not been raised to speak of them, but she was loyal and smart, so she knew when it was needed, even if you wished she wouldn’t.

You looked at her with heavy eyes for a moment before sighing once more and bringing your hands up to roughly rub at your face. “There is no way for you to help right now, I’m sorry. Except maybe be my shield.” The last part was added as a joke, but it fell flat.

“Shield you from what?” Protectiveness flared in her tone and you knew you had to soothe it with the truth.

“Not what,” you said softly. “Who.” You pleaded with your eyes for her to understand.

It took but a few seconds before her face scrunched up in pity – and something that would almost looked like amusement, had you thought her cruel enough to laugh at you. “Barty and Regulus.” 

It was a statement, not a question, yet you nodded in affirmation, shutting your eyes in humiliation. “It’s bad, Dorcas. It’s so bad.” A tired heave for breath. “But I will get through it. I just need a little bit of distance without any drama around it and to get my shit together.”

Dorcas looked like she was weighing up her next words carefully. “If I didn’t know you as well as I do, I would have told you to talk with them. Alas, I know you won’t. But I hope you somehow end up having to.”

Cryptic and confusing; just how you knew her to be. 

When she realised you would not answer her first sentiments, it was her turn to sigh and give you a rueful smile. “I assume this is why I suddenly have been roped into so much lately? Marlene misses me.”

You laugh at her teasing tone, happy for her to not dig too much into your feelings. “Sorry about that, babe. Just for a little while longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she repeated with a tilted head. “If it’s any help, I get it.”

“Considering you got the girl, I don’t think you do.” There was no malice in your words, just a bit of longing. It was bittersweet to indirectly admit your loss.

“That’s not what I meant.” She waited to continue before you met her eyes once more. “I can’t say I understand your heartbreak exactly, but I share your confusion. I also thought you would be part of it.”

The look you gave her must have been nothing short of gobsmacked, yet she had the kindness to not laugh at you. It was unclear whether you were most surprised by her knowing you were in love with both of them, or her having shared the same assumptions as you once. Both floored you.

“I–” you tried, but your voice failed you. All you were able to do was whisper a small, “Thank you.”

This time, there was nothing but pity in her eyes. “I’m sorry babe. I’ll shield you to the best of my ability.”

You shared small, knowing smiles and you decided to end the conversation there, lest it get teary. Reaching over, you carefully switched off your light and placed your book on your nightstand, abandoning any attempt at being comforted for the night. When you laid your head on your pillow, there were phantom indents on either side.

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The one place you had no opportunity to shield yourself from or avoid either of them was during classes.

With your timetables for the year, you and Regulus ended up sharing more than half of your classes, while Barty was in at least a third of them. When you first saw the allocations, it felt like painfully little, and the thought of scraping by so many classes without them felt like a punishment you did not deserve. Now, you almost wished it was less.

Almost was the key word though – because Regulus’ presence by your side at your shared Herbology station was somehow melting the tension that had settled in your bones and making your chest heave all at the same time.

His elbow bumped lightly into yours. “You alright?”

You looked up from the notes you were pretending to study for the depotting you two were currently attempting, giving him a brief smile. “‘Course. Ready for the next step?”

His gaze lingered on you for a second too long, flickering over your face carefully before nodding almost imperceivable. You shifted your focus towards the Venomous Tentacula on the bench before you, reaching out to carefully manoeuvre the prickly leaves away so Regulus could attend to the roots when his hand stopped yours.

“These aren’t tight enough.” His voice was but a whisper as he took off his gloves to tighten yours where the velcro was hazardously slapped on top of each other. With long, cold fingers he elegantly realigned the straps and made sure there was no gap between your skin and glove. “Don’t want my best girl getting hurt, right?” 

Regulus looked up to meet your eyes, a small smile playing over his lips. With his striking grey eyes locked on yours, you feared your emotions were too clearly pasted across your face. His loose grip remained on your bare skin, thumbs brushing carefully above your gloves.

“Right,” was all you offered him curtly, pulling your hands back to yourself. 

Together you navigated the plant meticulously from one pot to the other you had pre-prepared. Propagating, maintaining and harvesting from the plant was one of your major projects in Herbology for the term and you and Regulus had been dedicated to your so-called coparenting to begin with. Now, to have his body half pressed to yours as you covered the plant’s teeth and angled its venomous leaves away while he extracted and cleaned its roots, it was almost too much. You breathed in and instead of being overwhelmed by the smell of dirt, your nose was filled with Regulus’ shampoo and cologne. You were suddenly thankful your part of the job was rather stationary, as you feared your hands trembling.

Regulus took a laboured breath as he settled the plant properly within its new home, packing the potting mix carefully around the roots. “Right there, perfect,” he murmured, presumably to himself, yet you fought the shiver down your spine. You noticed him glancing at you in the corner of his eye with what can only be classified as a smirk growing on his lips. “Amazing work, amour.” That was unmistakably to you.

You lightly shook your head to clear your thoughts. “Are we done?”

“Unfortunately,” Regulus replied, dusting the remaining dirt off his gloves as he took a small step back from the plant – and closer to you. “Gregory has been successfully assimilated to his new environment.”

You scoffed a laugh, to which his smile grew genuine. “You’ve got a flare for the dramatics, Black.”

“Only comes with being close to one Bartiemus Junior, doesn’t it?”

His eyes were crinkling from his smile and adoration, but you took the comment for what it was – a reminder. A warning. Albeit a confusing one, giving his amorous words just a few moments ago, but one you most certainly needed. “That it does.” Your tone was drier than you intended, but you did good; the smile didn’t slip.

Regulus’ did, and he tilted his head while regarding you. “I almost slipped up a few times there, though. Was a tad distracted.” There was an undeniable cheekiness dripping from his words.

“Yeah?” was all you managed to say.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, leaning against the desk. You had time to small talk, giving as you were finished long before anyone else. “Pretty girls like you really shouldn’t be allowed in here; it’s a safety hazard.”

“You would know all about safety hazards,” you mumbled, fighting yourself from going red from the sentiment or seeing red from the audacity. 

Regulus’ laugh seemed more guarded than usual.

“Speaking of,” you said, trying to get the conversation to safer grounds, “who do you think will definitely kill their plants at last today?”

If there was one thing you and Regulus did well, it was gossip, and you managed to derail him into chattering quietly with you instead of doing some weird dance of pushing the limits and then drawing them clearly. As you spoke, you took small, careful steps away from Regulus to put some physical distance between you, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

If you had looked him in the eye even once more before your separation to go to your next periods, you would have seen that he did.

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You would have thought the Quidditch game on Friday to have been a blessing.

The tension had been growing more and more between you and your best friends, and it seemed that the more you volleyed around their pretend flirting, the more fired up they got, in each their own way. It didn’t seem sustainable anymore. 

Even Dorcas had grown weary of you, though she tried to remain supportive while urging you strongly to speak with them about it.

“And say what exactly? What could I possibly say that would not make the situation ten times worse?”

Dorcas levelled you with a look that spoke volumes, but she seemed unwilling to verbalise any of it in response. Instead she just offered you a vague, “It might go better than you could imagine.”

You must admit you had grown weary of her cryptic remarks as well.

A quidditch game gave you the perfect opportunity to have a small break from them guilt-free, seeing as they were all playing for Slytherin. In turn, you believed you gave Dorcas a break from working overtime to shield you and keep any awkward situation at bay. 

With you in the stands, cheering for your little makeshift family who were all involved in the game somehow – Regulus as Captain and seeker, Barty and Evan as beaters, Dorcas as a chaser and Pandora as commentator – you thought you could finally breathe for a moment. 

Any such hopes were shattered when Barty came chasing up beside you before you could ascend the wooden stairs to find your seat.

“Dragă! Hold up!”

The pet name sent warmth up your spine, but the sigh that escaped you was not a happy one. You turned regretfully on your heel to take in Barty’s form as he jogged up to you. His quidditch gear was tight, much more than it had any business being, seeing as he could easily make them larger with a quick spell if he wanted to. 

You didn’t ask what he wanted, but he didn’t seem to mind, grin permanently plastered on his face in your presence.

“Do I not get a kiss for good luck?” He threw you a cheeky wink with his comment as he came to stand in front of you, breath slightly laboured.

“Sure you can. Regulus is right over there.” You hoped your voice sounded a bit lighthearted even in your sternness of correcting his flirting. Even more, you hoped the heat in your cheeks had not turned into any noticeable redness. 

A look at Barty’s wicked smile told you it might have. “I’ve already gotten plenty from Reggie. Now I just need my girl and I’m golden.”

You knew he didn’t mean it, at least not like that. You knew he meant a kiss on the cheek, and you knew he asked to make fun – not of you, but of the concept of good luck kisses and of your closeness as friends being read as anything else. He likely didn’t even know that you had been among those reading it as something else, this was a joke the two of you were in on, as all best friends should be.

Still, you couldn’t help but wince at the sting in your heart.

“I think you’ll do just fine without it, B.” You pressed your lips together in the same way you would if you were fighting a smile and not a frown.

He tilted his head at you, a mix of black and green strands falling into his eyes. “Have I done something that would make you want me to fall to my death? Because that is what will happen without you as my good luck charm.”

You shook your head, taking miniscule steps towards the stairs; away from him. “I’ll be a shining bright good luck charm in the stands. You’ll see me after, at the party.”

“I sure will,” he replied salaciously, but you caught the flicker in his eyes. “Wear a pretty little thing for me?”

“You know I’ll wear jeans.”

“And aren’t they a pretty little thing?” His smile grew more affectionate. “And you look good in anything, Dragă.”

“Sure.” You cleared your throat, stepping more confidently away from him. “See you later, B. Play well.”

“Just for you, baby!”

It was as if he was laying it on even thicker the more you turned his compliments away. While you never got quite used to his outspoken praise, it had been years since you embraced it and stopped fighting him on it – he didn’t seem quite pleased that you suddenly had started. Then again, Barty never liked not getting his way, so it shouldn’t surprise you.

You turned and walked back up the stairs, not turning to see whether he jogged off too or remained watching you like usual; you didn’t feel like having the pieces of your heart jumped on, and both alternatives would have resulted in nothing less.

In the stands, you settled into your usual place by the railing, seated beside Lily and Marlene, who were there to cheer on Dorcas. The two girls were the only Gryffindors you tolerated, not due to any of your own sentiments, but simply as a form of hatred by-proxy from Regulus and Barty – they were also a great opportunity to slowly edge Regulus closer towards reconciling with his brother. Though you knew in your heart that was a slow-and-steady-wins-the-race type of situation.

The game flew by and while you were relatively certain you cheered in the right places and sat with baited breath at the tense moments, you felt you were never truly present. Pandora’s voice in your ears was lulling, allowing your soul to drift out of your body and float up into the skies. You wondered if maybe you should take her up on her offer of teaching you how to meditate. Maybe that is how you end your torture rather than trying to change Barty and Regulus’ ways of being, even if it sent terribly mixed signals.

You were somehow exhausted by the time the whistle blew to announce Slytherin’s victory, despite not having done anything. 

Victory was a guarantee for a rowdy party, which, if you didn’t watch yourself, was a guarantee for mistakes. You could not risk slipping up and confessing your feelings to either boy – though some part of you whispered that perhaps some liquid courage is what you needed to tell them to stop flirting with you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

If the game had gone by in a blur for you, the party was nothing less. You lost Dorcas to Marlene’s wicked laugh just a few minutes in, and had since drifted between your many groups of friends. Shots with Evan, braiding with Pandora, armwrestling with Emmeline, gossiping with Amelia and Regulus. Throughout the whole night you had managed to keep things light, floating through the crowd and keeping someone by your side at all times. It made it bearable to be near the both of them when you had others to keep up appearances for. It also was a great distraction from the joint envy that bloomed in your heart whenever Barty paraded Regulus around like he ought to.

He tried to parade you too, but you slipped out of his grasp before he ever could.

The closer the night got to being over, the more intimate the atmosphere in the Slytherin common room grew. People migrated from standing around to sitting huddled together, there were quiet conversations and card games instead of yelling and butterbeer pong. There were less of the other house colours, and more of just the familiar greens and faces.

Meaning, it was your cue to slip out and away for a minute.

You, Regulus and Barty always ran off into some corner towards the end to do a debrief of the night, perhaps a bit tipsily. If there was one thing you couldn’t take right now, it would be that.

It was easy to distract the both of them by starting a conversation with Evan and Pandora – whether torture methods has improved or worsened since the dark ages – that would have them in a chokehold. You used the opportunity to slip out through the common room door and walk down the hallway.

It was rare you were grateful for the gloomy dungeons and their cold stonewalls, but this was one such moment. You walked slowly, alone at last, taking deep breaths. Somehow the air felt fresh despite being several metres below ground; anything was better than the stuffy post-party air that clung to the common room.

You let your right hand graze the wall as you walked, texture rough and freezing beneath your fingertips, and tipped your head back with closed eyes. You knew the way like the back of your hand.

At the end of the hall was a rarely-used classroom that functioned more as a storage room these days – your favourite place of refuge. The desk in there was the perfect size to lay down on to close your eyes and relax, feet just barely hanging off the edge. Along the top of the wall was a narrow window that gave an obscured view of the Black Lake, distorted light spilling through to make the most beautiful shapes along the ceiling.

You could stay here and relax and by the time you went back, everyone would have gone off to bed already and you wouldn’t have to face anyone until the morning.

“... Amour?”

You flinched so violently you almost fell off the desk, sitting up by propping yourself onto one elbow and clutching your chest with your other arm. “Gods, Regulus, you cannot fucking sneak up on people like that!”

“Sorry, love.” He offered you a half-hearted smile from where his head popped in through the crack in the door.

Barty’s head appeared just below his, as if he had crouched down to get the comedic angle. “I’m not, what the fuck are you doing here?”

You could hear the light squaffle behind the door as Barty presumably tried to push Regulus aside so he could walk in, while Regulus tried to hold his own to walk with grace. It resulted in them more or less tumbling in, the latter boy straightening up to close the door carefully behind him.

“Whatcha mean?” you asked dumbly, deciding to remain in your half lounged position on the desk at the top of the room.

The boys exchanged a quick look that you didn’t have the time to decipher.

Barty was the one who spoke. “I mean, how come you’re hiding out here? We have very important matters to discuss, you know.”

Your lips tightened slightly. You looked between them quietly while they came up to settle in front of your desk, Regulus deciding to lean his weight against a smaller one behind him while Barty jumped onto it without hesitation, settling into some odd position.

“Needed some fresh air. Party got too hot for me.”

“So you decided to lay down in this dusty room?” Regulus asked humorously, lifting a brow at you.

At the same time Barty commented, “I cannot imagine anything being too hot for you, baby.”

You ignored them both, fighting not to meet their eyes. This was going worse than you imagined.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to run off on you.” You aimed for a light-hearted tone, if a bit tired. “Want to do the debrief in here?”

Regulus hummed questioningly, as if he wanted to probe more, but Barty clapped his hands together. “Yes. You’re simply not getting out of this love, lest my bleeding heart become public knowledge as I wail at your absence.”

“Stop it, Barty,” you whispered. He didn’t hear you, in one way or another.

“Okay, so we all agree Dorcas and Marlene are shagging?”

You sit more up at this, realising you truly would be doing the whole debrief here, and that you would thus likely be here for a while. Also well aware that you know more than both of the boys on that matter, as Dorcas' dorm mate. “Well, duh,” you offer. “But did you see anything tonight?”

You look at Barty as he speaks, but can feel Regulus’ gaze burning through the side of your head, and you wish he would stop trying to scrutinise you. You look over to meet his gaze, hoping to give him an I’m fine smile that would divert his attention. However, when his eyes meet yours you see they are sparkling with that mischief that only Regulus can pull off, the kind that is equal parts elegant and dirty. He winks at you, and you really, really wish he wouldn’t. 

You shift your gaze back to Barty, further assuring his claim. “Don’t push it with Cas, though,” you warn. “She will tell you when she feels like."

“But it is so much fun to push it though,” Barty pouted, making his eyes comically big.

“It’s even more fun to not be skinned alive by Dorcas in our sleep.”

“Fine,” he groans, throwing his head back theatrically before settling you with a gaze. “But only because you asked, beautiful.”

You hum noncommitedly, fighting any prickling tears. Don’t be such a fucking twat. Let your friends speak to you. 

“Oh,” Regulus said, as if he just remembered a piece of drama to share. “Amelia flirted with me earlier.”

“She what!?” Barty’s voice was not much unlike a banshee’s. “Have I not made it clear that your arse is off the market?”

Your heart plummeted and you had to fight not to let your shoulders grow into your ears.

“Right?” Regulus said through a laugh. “I think she was just too pissed, though. Would have flirted with anything that walked.”

“What did she say?” you asked somewhat meekly.

“Oh, something about gorgeous curls and tight shirts and whatnot.” Regulus made a waving motion with his hand, as if physically brushing it off. “You know, the usual. Called me baby.”

“Only we get to call you baby,” Barty said through a pout.

We?

“I know, amour, I told her as much.”

Barty nodded emphatically. “Good. I don’t like picking fights with birds, but I would if she can’t keep her hands off the goods.”

Regulus gave his leg a light kick with his own. “Down, boy.”

Your stomach was turning over and you desperately wanted to leave. A comment about being tired and wanting to discuss the rest over breakfast tomorrow died on your tongue when Barty turned his attention to you, pout giving way for a scrutinising look.

“What about you, Dragă? Anyone else flirt with you?”

Any turning in your stomach was replaced by an irritation seeping into your bloodstream, one that had been fighting with heartbreak and anxiety for your attention for almost a month now.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business, B.” You’re not sure quite what possessed you to say it, but there was no denying your dry tone.

Barty looked equally puzzled, head actually reeling backwards ever so slightly. Still, he pushed his luck. “Am I not allowed to be concerned for my girl?”

You looked at him incredulously. “I am not your girl.” 

That was the whole point. That was the whole heartbreak. That was all you could think about. They were each other’s and you weren’t theirs and you most certainly was not their girl. 

Regulus’ stance shifted quickly, tensing in weariness. “Amour, what he meant–”

“I know what he meant.” You sighed, making no effort to hide your pain anymore. You could not take this. “I know what you both mean.”

“Baby–” Barty began, sliding off of his desk and moving towards you, but you cut him off.

“No! Stop it, Barty, please.” He looked as if you had punched him. “I can’t take it anymore, I’m sorry. I am so, so happy for you and I’m glad you’ve found each other like that. But now that you have, I just can’t take you flirting with me or, or doing the play pretend. It’s not fun anymore.”

The room was laid in silence. 

You had been defiantly staring at the wall behind them both, but after practically being able to hear the crashing out in their minds, you slid off your own desk and made your way towards the door without sparing them a glance. “I need a moment.”

“No, no, hey, hey, hey,” Barty chanted as he ran up behind you, hand circling loosely around your wrist. Enough to ground you, but not enough to trap you should you want to wrestle free. He slowly came up around your stopped form. “Shit, Y/N, I–” This time he cut himself off, running his free hand through his hair and looking over at Regulus, whose footsteps you could hear stop right behind you. 

You stared at the door over Barty’s shoulder. This was your worst nightmare.

“Amour, we’re sorry,” Regulus whispered behind you. His hand came up to ever so slightly trace the side of your arm.

You felt ganged up on where you stood between them and you cursed your body for loving it, even as they were rejecting you more explicitly than ever. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault that you don’t– you know.”

“No, no, no,” Barty chanted yet again, hands coming up to grasp both of your cheeks and bruising away a few tears you only now realised had fallen. You would never stop revelling at how Barty’s touch could be so painfully gentle even when his voice was frantic and passionate. “That’s exactly it, Dragă, we do. We do. I do.”

You met his eyes and furrowed your brows at him. “Barty, I don’t think you understand what I’m saying.”

He had the audacity to laugh quietly at you. “I don’t think you understand what you’re saying. In what world could I, Barty Crouch Junior, not be obsessed with you?”

“Lovely girl,” Regulus whispered as he inched forward into your field of vision, hand growing more confident in its touch on your arm. “I’m sorry, we’ve gone about this all wrong. We realised it quickly, but didn’t know how to fix it. The whole... getting together part happened naturally between Barty and I, and we figured it would with you too immediately after, but it proved, uh, more complicated.”

At last, your brain caught up with you, and your instinctive reaction was to jerk backwards out of both of their grasps, not even feeling the impact of your back hitting the desk behind you. Both boys hissed at the thump that sounded.

You finally looked at both of their eyes and found layers of insecurity and guilt there, along with… 

“Are you saying…” you started, but trailed off, unsure how to formulate the words.

“I’m obsessed with you, consumed by you, enthralled by you, whatever word you please, it’s yours. I’m yours.” Barty’s face was almost impassive despite the volumes behind his confession. More tears welled in your eyes, by confusion still more than any relief – you didn’t dare feel that yet.

“What he’s saying is that – well, that we love you.” Regulus smiled and you saw the quiver of his lips at the unfamiliar words.

You let out a half-choked sound. “I don’t understand? But then why– how come–” 

Regulus took a careful few steps towards you once more, hand held out between you in a show of safety. “Even as it happened, I remember thinking you would laugh at us for it. Really what happened a month ago was just that we didn’t really think at all.”

“Which you rightfully accuse us of a lot,” Barty added.

“Right. Barty and I were together and drunk and that tension we’ve all had, I guess it finally spilled over for us. By the time we had admitted our feelings physically, we didn’t really need words for it, which is what we both struggle with the most. And you weren’t close by to be dragged into it. When we told everyone we hoped to just… smoothly join you in. Wouldn’t be difficult right, it’s always been the three of us anyway?”

“Turns out it’s not so bloody simple,” Barty grumbled.

By this point, tears were streaming clearly down your face. Regulus reached out a hesitant thumb to wipe them away. “We were stupid, amour. And by the time we got our wits about us, we didn’t know how to reign you in, other than by… continuing being us. Us three.”

“How could I feel like it was us three when it was so clearly you two?” you all but sobbed.

Barty had grown too impatient by Regulus’ easing you in and closed the gap in two long strides, grabbing at your hand fiercely. “You couldn’t, we were just stupid wankers and absolute boys. You’re perfect, it’s not your fault you fell in love with us sods.”

You laughed a bit wetly, bringing grins out on both of their faces. “Bold claim you have there,” you said, some teasing making its way into your voice.

“But an accurate one?” Regulus’ tone was void of humour, just quiet and nervous and hopeful.

“Of course,” you breathed and Barty’s hands tightened around yours. “I always thought it was us three… when it seemed like it was just you two, I– I didn’t really know what to do with myself.”

“So you ran and you hid,” Barty concluded with a nod. Upon your almost offended expression he hastily added, “as is understandable, and as asserted, we are wankers and you are perfect.”

“Stop saying that,” you whispered.

“But it’s true,” Regulus added in the same cadence. Then, a sparkle settled in his eyes as he regarded you. “Can I prove it to you?”

Your breath hitched at the implication but you nodded, ever so hopeful smile growing on your face. You dared tighten your own hold on Barty’s hands – they were delightfully warm.

Regulus’ smile matched yours and he took a final step towards you to bring the two of you together. His lips covered yours in the sweetest of kisses, slow and smooth and exactly how you had guiltily pictured. He breathed in as he kissed you and you felt the air move across your skin, tickling and tingling. When he pulled back he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek too.

“This whole thing should have never played out this way,” he started. “But this is exactly where I always wanted to end up.”

Barty bumped lightly into both of you, giving you a conspiring smile. “It’s true – he tried to brag to me that he had been picturing us three together since fifth year, which is embarrassingly late for him. I’ve pictured this since the fifth week of knowing you both.”

You huffed a laugh, feeling your entire face still burning from the confessions, neck aching from the whiplash and lips tingling from the kiss. “Then you’ve both got eons on me. I only really realised, like, last term.”

“See, that’s because you are sane,” Barty provided, circling his arms around your hips to pull both you and Regulus closer to him. “A sane beautiful girl who balances us out perfectly and who completes my heart.”

“One we will spend eons making up lost time with,” Regulus added somewhat cheekily. 

You brought your hands up to properly wipe at your face, hoping to remove redness and giddiness with the wet. “It’s barely been a month.”

“A month you spent confused and hurt, Dragă. That cannot slide. I would have hexed anyone else who did that to you.”

“No one else could have broken my heart,” you said then, intending it to be romantic.

The horrified looks on their faces said otherwise. “You were heartbroken?” Barty exclaimed in intense frustration, pulling his wand up and handing it to Regulus. “Reggie, baby, I need you to Avada me right now. Use my wand so they can’t trace you and send you to Azkaban, because you need to be her personal servant to repent for us.”

“Barty!” you laughed, quickly plucking the wand out of his hands before any shenanigans could occur. “It’s fine, really–”

“Nope, absolutely not,” he cut you off. “I must fix this. Kiss it better?”

Before you could even really respond he brought his hand up to the back of your neck, pulling your face gently albeit quickly towards his. Millimetres before his lips could crash with yours, though, he paused. Giving you the opportunity to back down. His thumb was ghosting carefully across the baby hairs at the nape of your neck.

With a delighted sigh, you leaned your chest against his and brought him the final way in for the kiss.

His lips were softer than they looked, fitting exactly within the narrative that usually followed your relationship with Barty. He quickly opened them for you, bringing your bottom lip in between yours and kissing you passionately, tongue sliding over delicate skin. One of your hands curled into his shirt by his collar, wand long since discarded on a desk, while the other found Regulus’ neck, massaging it not much unlike Barty did with yours.

Barty’s skillful lips trailed happy kisses along your jaw, turning into a smile at the breathy laugh that escaped you at his ministrations. 

Your eyes met Regulus while Barty practically attempted to bury himself beneath your skin, smiling and sighing against you – kissing it better. The former boy’s smile was at its widest and most sentimental, encircling the both of you within his arms.

“Y/N,” he said, almost seriously. “We will do right by you, as we always should have. I’ll start by asking, will you please legitimise our feelings by becoming our girlfriend?”

Before you could reply, Barty added against your neck, “And will you please take back your demand we stop flirting with you, because I don’t think I can.”

You were afraid your smile was almost dreamy – everything you believed out of reach just a few minutes ago was not quite literally cradled in your arms. “You are both so unbelievable. Yes, I’ll happily be your girlfriend and yes you may flirt with me.”

Barty popped his head back up from your neck, lips somewhat swollen despite being stretched wide. “Fucking finally.”

“You say that as if I was the one holding back,” you teased, poking him in the chest.

“And while I will lay down and take a sword to the chest for ever believing I was not mad about you,” Barty began. “I think there is also something to be said about little miss run away and completely shut away any and all feelings and compliments.”

You hummed as if in thought. “No, I don’t think so.”

Regulus snorted in that way he only ever did around you two. Then, he reached out and gave you two, three kisses in a row, grinning all the while. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Too cute.”

Barty, tactile as ever, was cradling your cheek in his hand, tracing the side of your nose with his index finger. “I want the court to know that I am absolutely mad about Regulus,” he started, smiling all the while. “But it was always you too, silly.”

Emboldened, you leaned forward and gave him a sweet kiss. “Glad to know it.”

“Now let’s make sure everyone else does too, yeah?”

[froggiewrites]

Wanting

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

NSFW

Summary: You have never wanted anyone more than you want Sanji. You don't want to admit it, but as you end up alone together on a new island, the universe seems determined to make you. Warnings: Smut, There Was Only One Bed, Possessiveness (a bit from both Sanji and Reader), Reader really matching Sanji's energy on the horniness here Word Count: 5.6k Crossposted from Ao3

You had never wanted anyone more than you had wanted Sanji.

You hated to admit that tragic, embarrassing fact, but it was true all the same. You wanted him. You had always known you’d liked Sanji, from the moment you met and he threw himself at your feet, knew you found him endearing and silly, but wanting him? That was different. Wanting was real. Wanting was demanding. Wanting had you pacing the deck after yet another dirty dream about your silly little cook, trying to calm down enough to be able to face him at breakfast.

Your bare feet hit the grass of the Sunny’s deck as you pray that this will pass, that you’ll be able to see your dear friend without yearning for him so deeply it threatens to rip a hole in your chest, but every time you close your eyes you can still feel his lips against yours and see his face twisted in pleasure. You huff with frustration, throwing yourself down to lay on your back and stare at the sky. Maybe the morning sun will burn out your retinas and you won’t have to worry about seeing his face at all anymore.

“You alright down there?” His voice is still raspy from sleep, and your eyes shoot open as you use all the willpower you have not to rub your thighs together.

“Sanji!” Your voice is an octave higher than you would have liked to admit. “Hi! Good morning! Um, yeah. I’m uh–I’m fine. Peachy.”

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about his hands reaching down to grab you. Don’t think about how his dick would feel in your mouth.

Fuck. Damnit.

“Are you sure? You’re a little red.” You finally look up to see his face, his hair a little mussed and his eyes softened with concern. You want to kiss him. God, you want to kiss him.

“I’m okay, I’m just, uh. A little hot. That’s all.” You focus anywhere but his eyes, those beautiful kind eyes, because you know if you focus on his eyes you’ll do something you’ll regret. Or maybe you wouldn’t regret it at all, because you’d finally know what his lips feel like.

No. Not now. Not ever. You are not all hot and bothered over Sanji. Not your dear friend Sanji, who is looking at you with so much care it makes you physically ache.

“Do you want to come inside? I can make you something to cool you down.”

You picture being alone together in the kitchen, his practiced hands and talented fingers moving with such purpose as he slices and dices, just to make something to please you. You picture those fingers moving with a different purpose, working for a different pleasure. If you go in that kitchen you fear you’ll do something you can’t take back. “I’m alright! I just need to lay here.” Your voice definitely just audibly cracked.

His face falls a little at the idea that you won’t come with him. You try not to let your heart flutter at the idea he wants you around. That he wants you alone with him. “Alright, well come on in if you change your mind, okay? I’ll do–make. I’ll make anything you want.”

What was that?

Your imagination, surely.

“Of course, Sanji. I’ll let you know if I need you–anything.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a moment before he turns and walks into the kitchen without even a goodbye, and if you didn’t know better you would think the tips of his ears were red. Surely not, though.

You cover your face and groan, rolling onto your front to block out the world. You hear sets of footsteps pass as your other crewmates wake up and decide to leave you to your misery instead of asking. A small mercy, but one you’re grateful for.

Once you finally manage to drag yourself off of the ground, your thoughts filled with simple, unsexy things like cold showers and paint drying, you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast. You come in only on the tail end of the meal and conversation, hearing Nami’s voice dictating how things are going to go on the next island.

“—need to make sure we aren’t separated. There’s an island-wide curfew, and we need to make sure that none of us break it. We don’t want to risk drawing attention to ourselves.” You can’t see her face but you are familiar with the scathing side-eye she’s almost certainly giving Zoro and Luffy right now.

“Why are you looking at me?” Zoro’s voice is defensive in the way it only gets when he knows whatever he’s being accused of is inarguably true.

Nami sighs. “It’s too early for this. Anyway, we’re going to pair up to make sure no one gets stranded alone on the island just in case we miss curfew. I wrote all of our names on pieces of paper, and I’m going to draw–”

“Why do you get to draw?”

“Yeah I wanna draw! I’m the captain!”

“It doesn’t matter who–”

You tune them out for your sanity as you retrieve your plate from Sanji’s outstretched hands. He gives you a soft, sincere smile that cuts to your core. He looks so wonderful like that, when he isn’t trying to woo you and he’s just being…Sanji.

“I kept it warm for you.” He leans closer so you can hear him over the din of voices behind you. Your eyes are level with his chest, his shirt unbuttoned halfway so you can see his entire torso. You need to look away. You need to stop ogling.

You don’t.

“Thank you,” you murmur distractedly. You don’t know if you’re thanking him for the breakfast or for the clear view of his happy trail.

His chest gets closer, and you feel his warm breath against your ear. “Of course. Anything for you.” He’s so close. You could so easily put your lips against his neck. You could bite him right now, make him make such wonderful noises right here in front of everyone.

“Hey, are you two even listening?” Nami’s annoyed voice rings out from the table behind you.

You both stand at attention like navy soldiers the moment she calls for you. Her tone means business. That silly argument earlier seems like it soured her mood for the entire day.

“Of course, Nami!” Your tone rings false, and she gives you a dour look that you shrink under.

“Ugh. Whatever. Important bits: we’re staying paired up on this island. Be back before dark. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. Got it?”

“Yes, Nami!” You both chorus.

“Great. I’ll start pulling names.”

Your captain pouts. “But I–”

“I’m pulling names.”

“Awww.”

The pairs came quickly: Brook and Usopp, Franky and Robin, Luffy and Chopper, and Nami and Zoro (to Sanji’s audible displeasure). You laugh along with everyone else for just a moment at Sanji’s fit before you realize what it means.

“God, if it pisses you off that much then just switch partners with me!” Zoro’s voice is filled with annoyance, his eye turning to you.

Sanji pauses for a moment, his eyes finding yours, and you can see pure and utter euphoria hit him when he realizes. The fury at Zoro’s suggestion hits a moment after. “No way in hell, mosshead!”

The bickering continues, as it always does, and you try to calm your thoughts once again. A day alone with him. A date, perhaps. You imagine at first walking hand in hand while shopping, stopping in a cafe to enjoy together, and other simple domestic things that make a small lovesick smile make its way onto your face.

And then you remember your dream, hear his lovely voice cry out in a broken whine, and your silly daydreams turn to dark alleys and frantic, fumbling hands taking what they need before you’re caught. You imagine getting to run your hands down his torso, following the teasing trail of hair you saw earlier down, wrapping your hands around him and making him whimper.

You stop your thoughts because you are in front of an audience and are going to lose your sanity if you allow yourself another moment of this.

Sanji and Zoro have stopped fighting, and the crew is pairing off as everyone decides their tasks for today. Zoro has been designated Nami’s shopping bag holder, and his protests fall on deaf ears as the conversations continue without him. You and Sanji will be grocery shopping, of course. He has the list ready to go, which means all you need to do is keep him company and try not to get jealous when he inevitably hits on a stranger. You can do that, grit your teeth and give tight-lipped smiles that hopefully hide the taste of iron on your tongue. Maybe if you’re lucky she’ll reject him, refuse to give him the time of day, and he’ll turn to you as he licks his wounds. He’ll find comfort in you, and you’ll gladly give it. You can ease the sting of rejection as he eases the yearning ache in your chest.

As the crew moves to leave the kitchen, Zoro begins to lean over to you, presumably to make some gruff joke about how miserable your day will be with Sanji, wearing a smug grin hiding the boyish amusement he gets from teasing the man he would never admit is his friend. Before you can hear it, give him a soft laugh and a roll of the eyes, your vision is filled with the soft blue of a slightly unbuttoned shirt and there’s a large, gentle hand on the small of your back.

“I said hands off, mosshead.” Sanji’s voice holds more hostility than you’d expect. Most days even their worst of fights have an air of levity to them that they would never admit, but this has real anger behind it, venom spitting from his lips in a way you had never heard. The hand on your back presses firmly, commandingly, in a way that makes your knees weak. “Let’s go, angel.” His voice softens, then, not filled with the candied sweetness he saves for his usual flirtations, but the type of tender sincerity and affection saved only for a small inner circle you are forever grateful to be a part of.

“What, I can’t talk to her? Possessive pervert.” There’s less anger behind Zoro’s words and more confusion, but you can hardly hear it as the door slams firmly shut behind you. Sanji’s breathing is labored with anger, his shoulders drawn tight, but you hardly notice over the feeling of his fingertips on your back, brushing just above your ass, so close to moving lower. His hand moves to your hip instead, grabbing firmly, not enough to bruise but enough that you couldn’t leave if you wanted to.

“Sanji? Are you alright?” Your voice is hesitant as you try to keep the lust out of it, but he seems to take it as discomfort. His eyes widen, his hand immediately leaving you, and you can’t help but let out a soft whimper at the loss. He, of course, takes this as pain.

“Oh god, darling did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I–”

“You didn’t hurt me, Sanji, I’m fine. I was just worried about you.” You give him a reassuring smile, teeth only slightly clenched from concentrating on anything other than how strong he felt, on how good it felt to be held, on the feeling that his fingerprints have been burned onto your skin even though the fabric of your shirt.

His face is troubled, his eyes watery from even the idea of hurting you, but he relaxes when you take his hand in yours, gently rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. “I’m fine. I just can’t stand the idea of you running off with mosshead and him getting you lost. He’d probably leave you alone in the woods somewhere.” The words ring falsely in your ears. He hates to admit it, but he trusts Zoro to protect you, no matter the situation. The safety of the crew is one of the few things they’ll always agree on. He does not and would never think Zoro would leave you for dead.

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Sanji goes quiet, unable to bring himself to disagree, to lie to your face a second time. What was he thinking? “Yeah, I…I know.” His voice is weak and strained, but before you can pry further he starts to walk ahead, pulling the grocery list out of his pocket, clearly shutting down the conversation. You stare longingly at his back for a moment, at his broad shoulders, before following in his footsteps.

Shopping is tense, at first, as he tries and fails to calm down, but you eventually find a rhythm. You both fall into each other, a brush of the hands here, a hand on the arm there, the pull so magnetic you cannot help but follow it. Eventually you find yourselves walking hip to hip, you holding his arm, pressing it to your chest incredibly deliberately as he tries and fails to pretend he doesn’t notice. He keeps sneaking glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you revel in the attention, preening under his wanting gaze. Your thoughts are about nothing but him, nothing but his shining blue eyes lingering on your chest, nothing but the hard stops he keeps making so your tits press even harder into his bicep.

He’s looking at you. God, he’s looking at you, no one else. Your chest tightens at the idea it could always be like this, that he could be yours.

Neither of you notice how late it’s gotten until the sun is already more than halfway behind the horizon. You’re reluctant to break the tension as he pulls you closer when you walk past a group of rowdy drunks, but you remember Nami’s warnings and your blood runs a little cold.

“Um, Sanji? Do you know what time it is?”

He checks his watch with no sense of urgency, clearly not grasping the situation. “It’s almost nine, why?”

“Curfew is at nine thirty, isn’t it? And the ship is…” you think for a moment, “about an hour away?”

He stops in his tracks, causing your chest to press against him again. “Ah.”

A beat of silence.

“Nami’s going to kill us.”

“I think you’re right.”

“The marines will notice us if we’re out past curfew.”

“Right again, my dear.”

“We’re fucked.”

“Mhm.”

More silence, stretching further and further as reality sinks in.

“I…guess we should find somewhere to stay?” Your voice is a little meek.

“I guess so.” He tries to keep his tone even, but there’s something almost mischievous behind it, something you can’t place. The ends of his lips twitch into an almost smile before he stops it. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but you pray it’s something perverted. Maybe today he’ll get brave and act on it and you’ll have an excuse to throw yourself at him, give into the feeling you’ve been fighting all day.

You both attempt to find an inn with two open rooms, but the first three are fully booked with drunks who have beaten you to it. The curfew inches ever closer, and you still have nowhere to stay. If you stay on the street and get caught by the marines, you know Nami will kick your ass for alerting them to your presence. She probably already will for how long you’re delaying your journey. You focus on Sanji’s arm resting around your shoulders to ground yourself and ignore the dread creeping in and settling in your bones.

You finally find an inn that will take you, but you immediately run into a problem. Or what you’ll pretend is a problem.

“Please tell me you have availability.” Sanji’s voice is tinged with desperation as the clock ticks down.

 The woman working the desk seems exhausted, having clearly dealt with much worse customers than yourself earlier. “Is a queen bed okay?”

“A queen bed, like singular?” You put on a good show of acting confused and a little upset, hiding your giddiness well.

“Oh, are you two not–” Her eyes are lingering on where you’re connected, your arms wrapped around his. “I’m sorry, I assumed–well. Um. We only have one room left, I assumed you would want to share it.”

“One room?” Sanji’s voice gets a little loud, and a stranger would mistake this for anger or upset, but you can hear excitement in his tone. He glances at you again, at your face, at your chest, at your legs, admiring you for just a moment, certainly imagining something that would make you flush. “Only one room?”

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can do. We really only have one. If that doesn’t work–”

“It works.” You both speak quickly. You pretend you don’t see him visibly fist pump when he thinks you aren’t looking. He pretends he doesn’t see you excitedly rock on your feet, a visible twinkle in your eye. The woman hands you a set of keys, and you’re both off.

As you walk to the room, you talk around it, pretending you both aren’t absolutely thrilled by this turn of events. 

“I can’t believe they only have one room. I know it’s busy, but this place is massive. It’s hard to believe it’s fully booked.” You try to sound annoyed, but a giggle makes its way into your voice as you imagine being tucked into the single bed with Sanji’s arms around you.

“It’s ridiculous. And with only a queen bed? Not even two twins? Or a king? It’s the most inconvenient it possibly could be.” He can’t fight his smile when he says only a queen, as he imagines both of you having nowhere to run except into each other. He could cry at the idea of having an excuse to hold you close, to feel you pressed against him with your head resting on his chest. It’s so domestic he could pretend it was real.

You both perfectly match each other’s steps in this liar’s dance even when the door closes, even when there’s not a single person to call you on it but each other. You cannot admit that you want this, out of fear that it might shatter the feeling of giddy excitement surrounding you both. You cannot put to words what is happening, lest you make it real. Real has worries attached to it, questions of the future and what this all means and what it changes. If you stay quiet you stay in the dream, where instead the only thing you have to think about is the pounding of your heart and the comforting heat of another next to you.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he says, visibly upset by the idea. He has to offer you the choice, he is a gentleman, but his eyes are pleading for you to deny the idea and welcome him into your bed.

“Don’t be silly, Sanji. You don’t need to ruin your back, there’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You leave out the internal pleading for him to come closer as soon as humanly possible. He can’t know how you may be even more desperate for him than he is for you.

“You’re an angel, my dear.” His smile now is genuinely affectionate, filled with a fondness that makes your chest ache. He looks younger like this, unburdened. “Well, let’s not wait, hm? I bet you’re exhausted.” His hands reach for the buttons of his shirt, and you watch, enraptured, as he slowly undoes each of them, revealing more and more of his body to you. You’ve seen it before, due to his favor for open silly Hawaiian shirts, but you can’t help but swallow at the sight, eyes never daring to look away. He’s so beautiful. He’s so strong.

You wonder if he could break you.

You wonder if you could break him.

He slips the shirt off easily, his hands moving down to his belt, the clink of the buckle sending a shiver down your spine and breaking you out of your trance. You can’t let him undress while you stay fully clothed. It’s rude. You let your hands slide down to the hem of your shirt, swiftly removing it, and he stops in the middle of unbuttoning his pants to stare, jaw slacked. You can see him grow hard at the sight of your chest as his eyes bore holes into you. His gaze is burning, his pupils blown out, his breathing growing heavy.

“Sanji?” You reluctantly call out to break the spell, not wanting your masquerade to end quite this soon.

“Yes? What is tit–it?” His eyes haven’t moved a centimeter, honed in on where your breasts spill over your bra.

“You’re staring.” You keep your tone teasing. His eyes finally trail up to your face, where he finds a twitching smile as you try to hold back your giggles. His expression shifts from lustful to lovestruck as his eyes soften and his smile widens.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, breathlessly.

“So are you.” His smile widens further as he finally looks away from you, suddenly bashful. His cheeks are flushed slightly pink, and you finally break and huff out a laugh. It isn’t seeing you half naked that gets him, or the idea of sharing a bed, or the lustful thoughts he’s certainly been having all day. It’s a simple compliment, not even a particularly good one, that flusters your dear cook. It makes you want to take his face in your hands and place kisses all over it, with a tenderness that would make its way under his skin, marking him as well and truly loved. It makes you want to drop to your knees and worship him, take him into your mouth and not stop until he’s utterly spent and crying from the overstimulation. It makes you want him, in every meaning of the word.

But you don’t want to break the illusion yet, still a little nervous about being the first to step over the line, so instead you slide your thumbs beneath the waistband of your jeans and quickly step out of them. You make your way to the bed, making a show of throwing yourself onto your back, bouncing a little as his eyes eagerly take in the movement of your breasts, your thighs, every inch of you. After allowing him a moment to admire, you shift to pull the blankets over yourself, tucking yourself in. You’re going to play your part. But you’re allowed a moment of fun. You look up at him, doe eyes blinking and arms outstretched welcomingly. “Sanji, aren’t you coming to bed?”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes turning to your face, and in that moment you swear you can see into his head. You see dreams of the two of you intertwined, not sexually, but just…together. You see his head resting against your chest, eyes closed in absolute bliss. You see the soft sunlight of the morning bathing you both in gold, warming you to your bones. You see a different scene, the two of you in a more intimate embrace, bodies pressing closer than you thought possible, hips moving and hands everywhere, a tender moment that almost feels like worship. You see an entire life together, every little moment, and you see Sanji’s eyes fill with tears at the idea of it.

He rips his pants off, practically diving into the bed with you, and his arms wrap around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into your chest, nosing between your breasts, and somehow still keeping up this silly ruse, he mumbles, “This bed’s pretty small. Guess we’ll have to get even closer.” He pulls you tighter, and you’re almost sure he can’t breathe from how much he’s pressed his nose into your skin. You giggle, and you can feel him smile against you. He places a kiss right against your sternum, gentle and affectionate, before pressing one up slightly higher, then one higher than that, as he makes his way up to your neck. His facial hair rubs against your skin, the ticklish feeling making you laugh even more. He places one final kiss where your jaw meets your neck before pulling up to whisper in your ear. “Can I please kiss you? I think I’ll die if I don’t.”

“Please do,” you whine out. He doesn’t wait another moment before your lips crash together, teeth briefly clacking together in his excitement before it softens into something more tender and intimate. He groans softly into your mouth, lips parting, welcoming you in. You gladly accept, and he fully pins you beneath him and you explore each other’s mouths.

His hands slide underneath you, one pulling you upward into him as the other fumbles with the clasp of your bra. The moment it releases, he swiftly tosses it behind him, breaking your kiss to stare at your chest. His mouth is slightly agape as he pants, eyes wide, taking in the sight. He looks as though he wants to speak, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches out as he takes in every inch of your breasts, before he eventually reaches a shaking hand out to brush his fingers against your skin. He lets out a quiet breath of awe. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life. A goddess. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You took the words out of my mouth, Sanji. This is a dream come true.” Your voice is quiet with the vulnerable admission, and his eyes leave your chest to meet yours.

“You dreamed of this?” He sounds like he really truly can’t fathom the idea.

“Dozens of times. Almost every dream I have is about you. Last night I–” You stop yourself in embarrassment, face flushing.

He leans closer with an intensity he usually saves for battle. “Last night? You dreamed about me last night?” His eyes are boring into you, stripping you bare, staring straight into your heart and soul.

“Yes,” you softly admit. “I dreamed about you last night. About this. The real thing is so much better.”

“Oh god,” he breaths out, before he kisses you again, hard and fast. His hands envelop your tits, groping and squeezing. You can’t stop yourself from keening into his mouth when his fingers brush against your nipples, and you can feel him grind against you when he hears. His hardness presses against your bare thighs, showing how badly he wants you. He grabs at you like you’ll disappear between his fingers, fade away like all of the dreams that have been haunting you.

Another pinch at your nipples makes you cry out, and you pull back, begging, “Sanji, please, more!” You want to feel his fingers inside you, his tongue, his cock. Any and everything he could give you you want, and you feel so sure that he would gladly let you take it. He would give you the heart out of his chest if you asked.

He moans as his bulge rubs against your thighs again. “Fuck, of course, angel. Whatever you want.” He slides lower, and you feel his fingers slide along the fabric covering your slit. He carefully traces a path up to your clit, lightly pressing against it through your panties, making you suck in a breath. His eyes travel between your face and his fingers, taking note of your reactions.

He eventually slides off your panties, letting out a soft noise of appreciation once he’s able to see all of you. He leans closer, mumbling something you don’t quite catch, before his mouth is on you.

“Ah, Sanji!” You cry out in surprise, your thighs clenching together, and you can feel him moan against you at the pressure. His tongue moves expertly, which you suppose makes sense; Sanji is a man who knows how to appreciate a good meal. His hands reach up to grip your thighs, not to pull them apart, but to pull you even closer, hooking your legs over his shoulders as he dives further into you. His nose brushes your clit, making you keen again, and you can feel him smile against your cunt. 

You feel a familiar tension building in your gut as his tongue shifts to your clit and he inserts a finger, then two, then three inside of you, curling in a come hither motion that makes you see stars. You get noisier and noisier as the coil tightens, and Sanji only grows more enthusiastic with every moan and cry he manages to pull from you. His hips are grinding desperately against the mattress beneath you. Your thighs continue to tighten around his head, and you worry you’ll crush him, but you imagine that’s the way he’d want to go.

With one final flick of Sanji’s tongue and push of his fingers, you come unraveled around him, nearly screaming his name as you’re hit with white-hot pleasure. His fingers work you through it, only stopping when your thighs go slack around him and you let out a soft whimper. He crawls up to see your face, to see the evidence of his work, and you can see he’s absolutely covered in your wetness, his facial hair soaked in you. His pupils are blown out, his eyes nearly entirely black and looking nearly maddened with lust. He kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his lips.

“Please, please let me feel you. I need to feel you around me. Please.” His voice is ragged as he pants, a whine behind it as he begs to fuck you.

“Please,” you whimper back.

His fingers hook below the waistband of his boxers, and he slides out of them slowly. His cock stands proudly, long and thick, leaking precum. He gives you no time to admire it, swiftly lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing himself into you, moaning into your ear at the feeling.

“Darling, you feel heavenly,” he groans. He sits still for a moment, giving you time to adjust and just enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him. “I could never have imagined how perfect you are. The dreams never did you justice.” You try to move your hips, but his hands are holding you still. You let out a whine, pathetic and wanton, and his lips tug into a smile. “Are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, god, yes.”

He pulls himself out slowly, before reentering a little faster, the next time a little faster than that, increasing his speed bit by bit until he’s relentlessly pounding you into the mattress. He mumbles endless praise for you that gets lost between his moans, only allowing you to make out princess and tight and perfect. The room is filled with these small praises and the sound of slapping skin. You lean up to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, instead staring intensely into your eyes, determined to see your face when you cum.

He watches your face as your orgasm grows closer, his hips speeding up and his fingers reaching for your clit. His gaze is loving, admiring, nearly worshiping, and his words at some point turn into a prayer: for you, for him, for what you’ve created here in this room to last long after the door opens and you return back to a life where this becomes real. Your orgasm hits you harshly, making you cry out, and he watches enraptured as you come apart around him. He tries to keep his pace steady, but his hips stutter as he cums inside of you, filling you with warmth.

He stays like that, cock inside of you, eyes locked onto yours. The only sound in the room is your heaving breaths, the only sensation either of you feel is the warmth of the other grounding you here.

“I think I love you,” he murmurs. “Can I say that? Can I make it real?”

You wrap your arms around him, pulling his head to your chest, cradling him there. “Please do. I want it to be real. I want you. I love you.”

He adjusts, pulling out of you, crawling up slightly to fully make his home in your chest. His shoulders shake, and you hear a sniffle. You don’t say anything, simply running your hands gently through his hair, across his cheeks, down his back.

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” He nuzzles his face even deeper into you.

“I think I’ve wanted you just as long, even if I didn’t realize it.”

“I adore you.” His voice is thick with emotion, and you think maybe this confession is deeper and more difficult than his first. 

“I adore you too, Sanji. You’re one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever met.”

You sit there, basking in each other’s presence, enjoying a world where this gets to be real. You drift off to sleep peacefully, with the reassurance that when you wake this won’t just have been another troubling dream. Nothing is more real and grounding than his arms wrapped around you, his leg thrown over you, his lips still lightly pressed against your skin. You know you’ll see him tomorrow, shining brilliantly in the sun, and walk back hand in hand. You still dream of him, but the lovesick smile he gives you when you open your eyes is better than any dream you’ve ever had.

[prdx-invdr]

୨୧⸝⸝﹕if you call me a fool, then i’ll be a fool.

SUMMARY! you’ve been in love with park wonbin since the day the two of you met and never found the courage to tell him. why is it that you find yourself yearning to confess the moment someone else comes into the picture?

PAIRING! park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE! college!au, slice of life, fluff, angst (an attempt was made), friends to lovers, IDIOTS to lovers omg WC 8.1k

WARNING! swearing, jealousy, y/n likes wonbin an insane amount girl get up, insecurity, anton instigates like it’s his job and he’s up for a promotion, random female idol is mentioned many times (nothing against her!!), not proofread

NOTE! do u guys know what song the title is from lol.. LOL also i had another wonbin fic i wanted to post and deleted it bc it sucked so actually im posting this one as a coping mechanism

you don’t realize the way you’re staring at the back of wonbin’s head until a voice snaps you out of your trance. “do you know what you want?” shotaro asks you, waving a hand in front of your face.

currently, the two of you, along with wonbin, seunghan, and anton, are standing in line at a beverage kiosk. the latter, having already received his drink, stands to your right while shotaro stands to your left. seunghan recites his order to the employee while wonbin stands idly behind him.

“don’t even bother asking,” anton chortles, lips still wrapped around his straw. “she’s probably gonna have wonbin order for her, like always.” you lightly slap him in the arm after the words leave his mouth, eyes darting to the aforementioned boy standing merely 2 inches in front of you, hoping he hadn’t heard anton’s teasing.

“i didn’t even say anything wrong! he orders for you all the time!” the boy whines, jokingly rubbing his arm where you had hit him.

shotaro lets out a curt laugh at the interaction, knowing that anton’s words held truth to them, whether you liked to admit it or not. “it’s because she’s shy. right, y/n?” he turns to you, attempting to diffuse your embarrassment. one look at the smile on his face and anyone would be able to tell that his words were complete bullshit. the two of you knew that the real reason you liked having wonbin order for you was because you liked him.

however, for your own sake, you sigh and choose to agree with shotaro’s statement, only offering a small nod. “whatever,” anton mutters under his breath, walking over to seunghan who has his own beverage in hand.

now that you, shotaro and wonbin were the only people in line, shotaro grabs your sleeve and gently pulls you backwards, putting more distance between the two of you and the boy who was now placing his order. before shotaro says anything, you know what the topic of conversation is going to be.

“do you ever plan on telling him?” is all he inquires, his voice lowering to a whisper. you avoid his piercing gaze, instead turning to look at anton and seunghan, laughing in between sips of their respective drinks. anton is already nearly finished with his, you note.

when you’re done observing them, you shift your attention to wonbin, who has his arms crossed as he points at one of the cup sizes the kiosk has on display, indicating that it’s the one he wants.

you’re unable to see his face but you’re able to picture it better than anything. the way his lip quirks upwards in an attempt to be polite to the employee. the furrow of his brow as he asks a question.

shotaro sighs at your silence and finds it astonishing how you’re able to ogle wonbin without even looking at his face. that very sigh brings you back into reality, finally meeting the gaze of the boy currently interrogating you.

“he… doesn’t think of me that way,” you slowly tell him, as if the words would physically pain you if you uttered them too quickly. shotaro lets out a noise you can only assume was meant to be a scoff, but being passive aggressive simply doesn’t run in his blood.

“are you kiddi-“ shotaro is interrupted by wonbin holding a drink in front of your face, thus putting a barrier between the two of you. “here, y/n,” the long haired boy hums, not moving from his spot until you take the beverage filled plastic cup. if you didn’t have park wonbin tunnel vision, as shotaro likes to call it, you’d see the way anton is shaking his head and letting out a short laugh in disbelief upon witnessing the interaction. “called it,” he tells seunghan, who only blinks in confusion.

“i wasn’t sure which one you wanted, but i remembered that time we went to that other drink place and you said you really liked the strawberry one, so i got you that,” wonbin explains, holding his own straw up to his mouth. he says it nonchalantly, as if you could either finish the drink in about 5 seconds before proclaiming how much you enjoyed it, or you could throw it to the ground and curse at him for assuming the flavor you wanted, and he wouldn’t flinch either way.

“um— yes— yeah, i..” you stutter, and shotaro swears it takes everything in him not to slap his own forehead at your sudden jumpiness. “i like it, thank you. you didn’t have to, wonbin,” you exhale, holding your drink with both hands.

“yeah, well, force of habit, you know?” the boy laughs. “since i’m always ordering for you anyway.” his words cause you to tense and you can just picture anton’s shit-eating grin after he heard what wonbin said. “right, yeah,” you nod, wanting the conversation to be over with. the 5 of you continue walking throughout the mall, seunghan complaining about what a ridiculous amount of time you had all just spent at that beverage kiosk.

“force of habit is crazy,” anton decides to tease you again, earning another slap on the arm. “stop hitting me!”

besides ordering drinks for you when you hadn’t requested for him to do so, anton has noticed that wonbin also tends to subconsciously let you get away with… a lot.

he doesn’t even attempt to hide the way he rolls his eyes when he walks into the living room and sees none other than you and wonbin, the latter seated on the carpeted floor while you’re situated on the couch behind him, playing with his hair.

“i shouldn’t have come in here,” he mutters, barely audible. he’s unsure if he wanted you and wonbin to hear him, but your head snaps in his direction nonetheless. “hey, anton,” you greet him despite knowing that he’d have a lot to say about your current position. he nods his head in acknowledgement before pursing his lips. you brace yourself for whatever comment he’ll inevitably make next, morphing your lips into a straight line.

“you know,” anton starts, and you’re already holding back the urge to groan. “wonbin never lets any of us touch his hair like that.”

“right, because you guys are always so eager to play with my hair, huh?” wonbin quips sarcastically. anton shrugs, although wonbin isn’t looking at him. “so you’re saying if we wanted to, we could?” anton questions, moving across the living room to grab his phone charger, finally remembering why he had walked into the room in the first place.

“nah,” wonbin replies, “not sure why you’d want to, anyway.”

“i don’t see you questioning why y/n wants to do it,” anton insists, already making his way out of the room, pausing momentarily to hear wonbin’s response.

“she doesn’t need a reason,” his older friend says, “she’s y/n.” anton shakes his head and continues on his way. you resume treading your hand through wonbin’s hair as if nothing had happened, but unbeknownst to the boy sitting in front of you, your heart rate had increased at his words.

“he’s just jealous,” wonbin jokes. you only let out a short laugh in response. you wonder how he would react if you informed him that anton had actually sprung up that conversation because he knows about your tremendous crush on the raven haired boy.

“do you think you’d ever go blonde?” you inquire, changing the subject. he lets out a snort and tilts his head to look back at you. you’re grinning, trying to ignore the way your heart does somersaults in your chest.

“i don’t think the world is ready for that,” he laughs.

“what are we laughing about in here?” a voice sings from the door way, ripping your attention away from wonbin. you turn to the perpetrator and lock eyes with sungchan, who sends you a smile. you wave at him and he takes it as an invitation to sit himself down on the couch beside you.

“nothing much,” wonbin answers. your hands finally retreat from his hair and you miss the way his shoulders slump in response.

“right,” sungchan nods, turning his attention to whatever you and wonbin are watching on tv. in actuality, neither you nor him have been paying the television any mind for at least an hour, and only now do you realize that some sort of ocean documentary has been playing this whole time.

a few minutes of silence proceed before sungchan clasps his hands together and stands up from the couch abruptly, startling you.

“man, this has been boring,” he announces, eyes darting between the two of you, seated in the same positions as when he first entered the room. “do you guys even talk?”

“we were, actually, before you walked in,” wonbin mutters, not meaning for his words to come out as sourly as they do. sungchan raises his hands in the air in defense. “hey, my bad. i didn’t realize the two of you were having an ocean documentary date,” he retorts.

“we’re not having-“ you’re about to correct him, only for him to cut you off.

“but, you know, bin,” he says, “i’m not sure how sangah would feel about you having a movie date with another girl.”

you feel like your entire world freezes over the moment you hear those words leave sungchan’s mouth. you quickly rid your face of your crestfallen expression, not wanting to give yourself away.

“who?” you can’t stop yourself from asking, and sungchan just stares at you. wonbin waves his hand dismissively, shaking his head in annoyance. “shut up, dude.”

“wait, y/n doesn’t know about sangah?” sungchan asks, a genuinely confused look crossing over his features. “i thought you guys told each other everything.”

wonbin groans in irritation. “i haven’t told anyone, actually, because it doesn’t matter. you only know because you’re nosy as fuck.”

sungchan chuckles, and you would attempt to let out a halfhearted laugh if you didn’t feel like your chest was aching. you lick your lips and stare questioningly at the side of wonbin’s head.

“look, bro,” sungchan gestures towards you, causing wonbin to turn around and meet your disheartened eyes. his face drops slightly, and you’re not in the correct headspace to try and pinpoint why. “she’s upset because you didn’t tell her!” his friend chimes.

wonbin shakes his head, still looking at you. “she’s just some girl,” he huffs. “i don’t even know her that well.”

you scoff before plastering a wobbly smile onto your face. “i’m not upset,” your voice quivers and you hope that wonbin doesn’t notice it. you’re not sure why he decides to reassure you about sangah— whoever that is— but you pray that it’s not because he’s known about your pathetic crush on him all this time and is now feeling bad for you because he’s currently seeing someone.

of course, only your cruel mind could formulate such a sickening thought.

“i’m just.. surprised,” you conclude with an unconvincing nod. wonbin closes his eyes in annoyance, and you know it’s because of his intrusive friend standing in the doorway. “sungchan, just stop spreading shit around, alright?” he gives him a tired look, finally getting up from the floor. as wonbin makes his way past sungchan in the doorway, the taller boy gives him a playful slap on the shoulder. with wonbin having left the room, you find yourself looking to sungchan with urgency.

“who is sangah?” you plead, trying to keep your emotions at bay. the boy furrows his eyebrows, confusion settling into his features once more. “why do you care, y/n?” he asks. you know that his question doesn’t come from a place of mockery, but rather genuine interest. it hits you in that moment that sungchan, as smart as he is, happens to be absolutely terrible at taking a hint.

somehow, when it came to the long lasting feelings you harbored for one of his closest friends, sungchan was none the wiser. you surmise that he wouldn’t have teased wonbin so openly about another girl had he known about your feelings for the long haired boy.

that, you suppose, you can’t really blame him for.

“um,” you start, “he’s one of my closest friends.” your words are spoken through gritted teeth and clenched fists. “i’m just curious, you know?” the lie comes out easier than you think it should’ve.

sungchan hums, crossing his arms and giving you a curt nod. “just some girl,” sungchan tells you, repeating wonbin’s words from a few minutes ago. “yoon sangah. she’s in our music fundamentals class. like, 2 days ago, i think, she wrote her instagram handle on a slip of paper and gave it to wonbin right in front of me.” your face falls for what seems like the millionth time in the past 10 minutes. you can only offer the tall boy a nearly inaudible hum in response.

“do you think it’ll lead to anything? you know, between her and wonbin?” again, you can’t stop yourself from asking. you feel sick at the thought of playing into the role of ‘jealous, overthinking girlfriend’, and even sicker at the fact that you and wonbin aren’t even dating. what right do you have to be inquisitive about his love life?

still, you can’t help it. when sungchan takes a bit longer to respond to your question you fear you’re treading on dangerous territory, afraid that even the dense boy you’re conversing with may have cracked the code. the grin that he aims at you a few seconds later serves as reassurance that, no, he still doesn’t know anything.

“that’s a good question, y/n dearest,” he pats your shoulder lightly. “i guess only time will tell.”

you hate yourself for what you’re doing right now.

looking back on the conversation you had with sungchan hours prior to this moment, you recalled him mentioning that sangah had given wonbin her instagram. thus, like any normal person would do in your situation, you took it upon yourself to go through wonbin’s following list in an attempt to find her.

you scroll past your own account, past the accounts of your mutual friends, and a few people who you presume are some of wonbin’s classmates.

when you finally stumble across sangah’s account, your body fills with dread before you even see a proper photo of her.

judging by her profile picture alone, you can tell that she’s pretty. you’re fully looking at her profile now, and your frown only deepens. she’s beautiful.

you shake your head as if it would help ease your racing mind. she’s beautiful, yes, you think, but looks aren’t everything. you find yourself childishly crossing your fingers that sangah had the personality of an evil witch, so that even if wonbin fell victim to her physical charm, he’d be pushed away by her true nature.

you let out a quiet scoff. you can’t believe you’re sitting here thinking badly about another girl just because she might have a crush on the same man you’ve been in love with since the day you met him. in the same sense, you can’t believe that when you say that sentence out loud, it actually sounds a bit reasonable. you blame sungchan, for a moment, drawing the inference that you wouldn’t feel so insecure right now if it hadn’t been for his previous teasing.

you can’t stop yourself when you click on one of sangah’s posts. she doesn’t have many, but the few that she has have seemed to gather thousands of likes. despite this, you take note of the fact that wonbin doesn’t have any of them liked— thank god, you think to yourself. you start to analyze her photos, the faces she makes at the camera, the outfits she wears, the way her hair is styled. when studying her facial expressions, you wonder if she’s made those same faces while looking at wonbin. when taking her outfits into consideration, you wonder if wonbin has seen her wearing any of them and thought she looked particularly nice. whilst examining her hair, you resist the urge to rip out your own. it’s perfect. she’s perfect.

she’s perfect, and from what you can tell, you aren’t anything like her. so what does that make you?

you move to close the app, feeling filled to the brim with self doubt when you suddenly freeze as your phone vibrates. you hesitantly open your dms and your eyes widen as they fall upon the newest message.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: why are u awake

your heart races and you momentarily contemplate if wonbin had somehow set up a security camera in your bedroom without your knowledge because how on earth did he know?

you don’t ponder on the matter for long, the aforementioned boy sending another message merely a few seconds later.

[3:02 AM] 1bin_02: u have ur activity status turned on btw

exhaling a breath of relief, you type a response to him.

[3:03 AM] you: why are U awake park wonbin

[3:03 AM] 1bin_02: i just woke up like 5 minutes ago. my y/n senses were tingling and my unconscious body felt a disturbance

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: kiddinggg

[3:04 AM] 1bin_02: but fr why are u awake

you hold your breath as you type out your next response, choosing to be daring. you decide that, even if it’s only for a few seconds, you’re no longer going to be a coward.

[3:06 AM] you: i was thinking about u

[3:06 AM] 1bin_02: ditto

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: i know im amazing and everything but don’t let me stop u from getting ur beauty rest 🙄 jk

[3:07 AM] 1bin_02: gn dummy

you decide against saying anything else, shutting off your phone with a sigh. you are a dummy, you think, and the boy who had just given you that title has no idea that it’s all because of him.

you’re exhausted the next day, concluding that being awake at 3 in the morning despite knowing that you had a class at 8AM was not the best idea.

wonbin is quick to take note of this, poking you on your side as the two of you follow your usual route to your next lecture of the day. “i bet someone regrets staying up until 3AM, hm?” he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as you swat his hand away. “like you weren’t up at 3AM, too,” you mutter. he clicks his tongue in response. “that was only for a few minutes,” he says, “who knows how long you were awake for, though.”

before you’re forced to dignify wonbin with a response, anton and seunghan walk up to the two of you, the latter offering a wave while the former only smiles.

“where are we headed, guys?” seunghan asks, throwing an arm around wonbin. the boy attempts to shrug him off to no avail. “anton and i wanted to go get drinks and we were wondering if you guys wanted to come with,” he grins before quietly adding, “and maybe also pay for them.”

you laugh and wonbin turns to you upon hearing it, letting out a playful scoff of his own. “can’t, y/n has class in 10 minutes or so,” he turns to the two boys who now have their eyebrows raised in apprehension. “that’s where we were headed,” he finishes.

“and you’re walking her there,” anton nods, his words posing as more of a statement than a question. you can only dramatically roll your eyes. wonbin doesn’t seem to pick up any undertones, only nodding in response. “i might be able to tag along afterwards, though. no promises.”

“well, anton,” seunghan sighs, turning to his friend, “we’ll just have to take shotaro inste-“

the boy is cut off by the sound of a girlish voice calling out wonbin’s name. all 4 of you turn around in unison, and you feel like your heart has physically sunken into the floor. sangah.

wonbin’s at a loss for words for a moment and you want to run away more than anything. you’re not prepared to see the two of them interact, especially after looking at her instagram page last night. “hey, sangah,” is all he says, a smile plastered on his face that pains you to look at.

the girl is practically beaming. “what are you up to?” she grins, her eyes not daring to look anywhere but him. his eyes flicker to you momentarily, who is struggling to breathe.

“i’m walking her—” he gestures to you and sangah finally looks away from him, eyes now trained on yours, “to class. well, i was, before these two showed up.” wonbin waves a hand in anton and seunghan’s direction, the two boys adorning matching confused expressions on their faces. nobody moves a muscle for a few seconds and you’re afraid that your rapid heartbeat can be heard atop of the pin-drop silence.

“oh! my bad,” wonbin clears his throat, “guys, this is sangah,” he gestures towards the girl, “sangah, this is… guys.” he gestures towards his friends. “and y/n,” he gestures towards you for the second time, giving you a tap on the shoulder for good measure. sangah’s mouth forms an ‘o’ and she reaches out to shake your hand. you’re positive that if it weren’t for the freezing hallways of your university, your hands would be sweating, so you silently thank whoever’s in charge of the ac for seemingly always having it cranked up to the max. you and the girl shake hands, her smile noticably brighter than yours.

“nice to meet you, y/n,” she says. “you, too,” is all you’re able to respond with, smile tight.

“nice to meet you guys, too,” she waves at anton and seunghan with both hands and they wave back, offering their own respective greetings in return. awkward.

you cough, attempting to break the silence. “this has been fun,” you press your lips together for a second, “but i’ve gotta get to class. hope you guys have fun at that drink place later, or whatever,” you trail off, the last part of your sentence aimed towards anton and seunghan. “and it was nice meeting you, again,” you add, making eye contact with sangah. she smiles. you don’t say anything to wonbin as you attempt to squeeze past him, but he grabs your arm. “i’m walking with you, remember?” he says. you resist the urge to look at sangah or anyone else in your vicinity for that matter, surprised at his words. this random girl who’s obviously into him is standing only a few inches away and wonbin still insists on walking you to class.

“it’s okay,” you shake your head, unsure. wonbin can tell that you’re beginning to feel upset and he desperately wishes that sangah and even seunghan and anton were anywhere but here. “y/n-“ he starts, you cut him off. “it’s fine, wonbin,” you reaffirm. it isn’t, though.

you begin to walk in the direction of your class and release a breath that you hadn’t known you were holding. deep down, you wanted wonbin to disregard your words and resume walking with you, leaving sangah and his friends standing in the hallway. but wonbin was too polite for that, and you couldn’t even turn around to see if he had continued to engage in conversation with the 3 of them because you felt tears forming in your eyes. stupid, stupid, stupid, you think to yourself.

unbeknownst to you, sangah was able to sense the tension in the atmosphere before anyone had even said anything to her. she kisses her teeth, scratching the side of her head. “i should probably go, too,” she tells wonbin. the boy can tell that she would’ve liked to talk more, but he wasn’t looking to become friends or even acquaintances with her. doing that would only give her the wrong idea, and he didn’t want to have any bad blood with someone he’d be forced to see nearly everyday in class. the boy nods in understanding, giving her a wave. “nice.. talking to you,” he bids her farewell, unsure of what to say, because whatever had just transpired definitely did not qualify as a conversation. the girl waves back with an unwavering smile, walking in the opposite direction you had gone.

“oh, man,” seunghan lets out a laugh he had been holding in, “that was the worst. please don’t ever put me through anything like that again.” anton silently agrees, cringing.

“is it just me,” wonbin starts, ignoring his friend’s remark, “or did y/n seem kind of upset before she left?”

anton stretches his arms slightly, eyes looking anywhere but at his dark haired friend. “wonder why that might be,” he muses under his breath, but wonbin catches it. “what do you mean?” he pushes, looking his younger friend in the eye. anton puts his hands in the air in mock surrender.

“anton, what the hell do you mean?” wonbin asks again, voice tinged with annoyance. anton shakes his head, “figure it out.”

seunghan watches his friends go back and forth, a bit confused himself. much like sungchan, he seems to be completely oblivious when it comes to the way you feel about wonbin.

you’re currently sitting in class wondering why you even bothered to show up.

you knew before you even sat down that you wouldn’t be able to process a single word of the lecture, your mind thinking over your first official encounter with sangah.

ever since last night, you’ve started to dread moments like these— none of your friends being around to distract you, leaving you alone with your own miserable thoughts. it feels as though each minuscule moment of silence is filled with your insecurities being pushed to the forefront of your mind.

what did they talk about after you had left? did seunghan and anton decide to leave shortly after, leaving wonbin and sangah alone? did they grow closer in the small amount of time they were left together? even worse, what if the amount of time they spent together wasn’t small at all? oh god, what if they’re still together right now?

had anton, seunghan or, worst of all, wonbin decided to invite sangah to their aforementioned drink hangout? your mind drifts to the image of wonbin ordering a drink for sangah, the same way he always does for you, and you feel like bursting into tears similarly to the way you had almost done so on your way to class.

and sangah— god, you wanted to hate her so bad. your prayers that she had the personality of a wicked witch were thrown out the window the second she opened her mouth. she was so nice to you. the guy that she likes had openly expressed that he wanted to walk you to class and she still smiled at you. she’s got the most perfect appearance and most perfect attitude and you feel like you can’t compete with any of it.

you check your phone for the first time in approximately 30 minutes, eager for a distraction. you’re dismayed to see only 3 notifications, one from the boy who seems the root of every current problem in your life, and two from sungchan.

[10:04 AM] bin 🫶: everything ok??

[10:16 AM] sungchani: hey

[10:16 AM] sungchani: we’re all gonna hang out on friday night (as decided by me just now) and u will be coming! (also decided by me just now)

you open your phone, typing a quick response to wonbin about how everything is fine (lie) and sending another short message in hopes of steering the conversation in a different direction. you open the two messages from sungchan, shaking your head as if he’d be able to sense your attitude through the screen.

[10:48 AM] you: who’s “we” exactly…. and what will “we” be doing

[10:50 AM] sungchani: don’t act dumb girl… me, you, taro, seunghan, anton and wonbin obviously. was gonna see if eunseok and sohee could make it but i doubt eunseok would wanna and i think sohee’s doing some group assignment lolol

[10:51 AM] sungchani: as for your other question i was thinking about going to the movies yay or nay? (say yay)

[10:51 AM] you: pass

[10:52 AM] sungchani: perfect see u there!

you don’t bother responding to sungchan’s final message, knowing that no amount of opposition from you would deter him. he’d probably drag you all the way to the theater himself if he had to. but you really don’t want to go, feeling drained from the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind ever since sungchan mentioned sangah for the first time. you’d much rather spent your friday night in bed, trying to give your brain a much needed break. maybe if you really felt like torturing yourself, you’d pull up sangah’s instagram once more.

when class ends, you’re shocked to find anton waiting for you outside of the lecture hall. he’s holding a plastic cup filled with chai tea, leaning against the wall leisurely as he sips through an orange straw. he doesn’t look in your direction, which confuses you, because you’re undoubtedly the reason he’s currently standing outside of your classroom.

“lee anto-“ the boy in question cuts you off by lifting his index finger in front of your face, still not looking at you. you scoff in irritation, not wanting to deal with his antics in your current state.

“you’re coming on friday, yes?” he questions, his voice slightly above a whisper. “not if i don’t have to,” you say, your voice at a normal volume. anton, finally looking you in the eyes, presses his index finger to his lips as if to indicate that you need to be quieter. “you do have to,” he nods.

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “why the hell are you whispering?” you scowl, and he keeps his index finger on his lips. you groan before reluctantly lowering your voice to match his, despite the fact that you still don’t know why he wants you to do so. “what’s going on?” you inquire.

“you have to come on friday,” he repeats quietly, “and you’re gonna tell dark star that you’re in love with him.”

you blink. “who?” anton leans his head back in annoyance before mouthing, “PARK WONBIN.” you recoil for a myriad of reasons. “first of all, i’m not coming on friday,” your voice slightly increases in volume, “and even if i was, i most definitely would not use it as an opportunity to confess to wonbin. and why in the world did you just call him that?” you finish, exasperated.

anton only sips his drink, his aura calm and collected. “you’re going,” he answers pointedly, “because if you don’t, dark star is gonna find out either way.”

your eyes widen and you feel like all of the air has left your lungs. “what do you mean by that? you wouldn’t actually-“

“i would, though. if telling dark star about your crush on him would get you to stop pining after him like a fool, why wouldn’t i? and, in addition,” anton fully turns to you, his voice raising to a light mumble, “i saw the way you reacted when sarah started talking to him earlier.”

“it’s sangah,” you deadpan. anton waves his hand dismissively. “not the point. with the way you acted earlier, you would’ve thought they were getting married right in the middle of that hallway,” he sounds concerned as he speaks the words, not looking anywhere but at you.

“i’m not saying that wonbin— dark star, i mean, has a thing for sandra right now. frankly, i don’t think he cares about her at all,” anton continues, “but if you’re that worried about some random girl taking him away from you when they’ve known each other for like, a week, i think that’s a sign that it might be a good idea to tell him how you’re feeling.”

you look down, letting his words settle into your mind. “i’ll come on friday,” you nod, and the boy in front of you smiles at your words, “but i have to give the whole confessing to wonbin thing a bit more thought. i mean, it’s kind of sudden.” anton’s advice actually made sense, you think, but you’re not sure if you’re ready to tell the boy you’ve been harboring feelings for all this time that you’re in love with him on a random friday night.

“sudden?” anton asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “i think it’s long overdue. fire tornado hector thinks so, too,” he tells you.

you turn to him, dumbfounded. “where the hell are you getting these names from?!”

friday night comes in the blink of an eye and you’re standing in the lobby of the theater with shotaro, anton, seunghan, and sungchan. wonbin is nowhere to be seen.

“i told him 7PM sharp,” sungchan murmurs impatiently, checking his watch. shotaro turns to anton, jokingly hitting the younger boy on the arm with a laugh. “imagine he just decided to stay home,” he chuckles, “i bet y/n would be relieved.”

“why would she be relieved?” seunghan intrudes curiously. anton shrugs. “i told her she had to confess to wonbin tonight,” he says casually, as if he hadn’t just revealed your not-so-secret secret to an unsuspecting seunghan. the older boy’s eyebrows raise at anton’s words, his lips parting.

“you like wonbin?” he questions you eagerly. “dude, i can’t believe you didn’t know by now,” anton answers in your place as you press your lips together. “and we won’t be using the name wonbin when he arrives. he’s dark star. the codename helps when you’re trying to be discreet,” he finishes.

“yeah, because you know all about being discreet, right?” you reply, voice laced with sarcasm. anton knows that you’re referring to the way he had exposed your feelings for wonbin merely 30 seconds ago, avoiding your gaze as he whistles idly.

“sorry i’m late, guys,” the man of the hour exhales as he walks up to the 5 of you. sungchan studies wonbin, unimpressed. the latter can sense his older friend’s agitation, clicking his tongue. “you’ll forgive me once you find out why i’m late,” he assures, “look who i brought with me.”

you can’t prevent the way your heartbeat escalates, both at the mere presence of wonbin and the words that have just left his mouth. you’re unsure if you even want to find out who he’s brought with him, fearing the worst.

“sohee! eunseok!” you hear sungchan exclaim, excitedly making his way over to the two figures that have just entered the theater. he wraps his lengthy arms around both of them simultaneously.

“guess our invitations got lost in the mail, huh?” eunseok muses, returning his friend’s embrace. the three of them return to where you and the others are standing and sungchan scratches the back of his neck. “my bad, man,” he utters bashfully, “the movie we’re watching is pretty lame. didn’t think you’d be into it.”

“still, it’s an excuse to see you guys,” eunseok shrugs, turning to greet everyone else. sohee does the same, wrapping his arms around you before anyone else.

“y/n! it’s been forever,” he grins, you return it. “it’s been… 2 weeks,” you tell him, hugging him back nonetheless. “i still missed you, though,” you hum. “stop hogging him, y/n!” seunghan teases, “we haven’t seen him in weeks either!”

the two of you release each other, and when you turn, wonbin is at your side. he taps your arm. “why don’t you greet me like that?” he feigns jealousy, pursing his lips. you smile at him, hoping to mask your nervousness, “i see you everyday.”

he rolls his eyes. “that doesn’t mean you can’t miss me.”

“i always do,” you say absentmindedly. by the time your words register, wonbin is already grinning. “ditto,” he mutters, his words meant for only you to hear.

he turns away before you can comment, and eunseok takes his place beside you. he wraps an arm around your shoulders, greeting you. you think nothing of his actions before he leans down, angling his head so that it’s directly next to your ear. “i heard about healing michael’s plan,” he whispers, “the one about getting you to confess to dark star.”

“please don’t start this,” you plead, “i cannot deal with these nicknames right now. and how do you know about that?”

“um,” he starts, moving his head away from yours, “obviously healing michael filled me in on everything. just because we don’t physically see each other everyday doesn’t mean we don’t have a group chat.” he moves back to the previous topic, “he threatened to tell dark star about how you’re madly in love with him, right? he’s bluffing,” eunseok explains, “if you confess to dark star tonight, it should be because you really love him. not because anton frightened you into doing it.”

you nod at eunseok’s words, unsure. “and,” he continues, “it shouldn’t be about some other girl that might like him, either.” he takes note of the way your eyes widen a fraction. “yeah, anton told me about that, too,” he nods as you make a mental reminder to yell at anton later for airing out your business.

“what i’m saying, y/n, is make sure that you’re telling him how you feel, not for anyone else, but for you. well, and for him. and for you and him, together,” eunseok concludes, “don’t let healing michael or sandy get in the way of it.”

“it’s sangah,” you sigh, in awe of the fact that you’ve had to correct both him and anton. sungchan appears to have heard your final words, perking up at the mention of wonbin’s classmate.

“sangah? we’re talking about sangah?” he blurts out, turning to wonbin with a smile. “bro, we totally should’ve invited her,” he jokes, slapping his friend on the arm, “seeing her and wonbin interact in the theater would’ve been hilarious.” everyone grows tense at sungchan’s teasing— he was somehow still the only one unaware of your feelings for wonbin.

wonbin only shakes his head in response, his first instinct being to look over at you. you’re wearing that same disheartened look on your face as the first time you found out about sangah, and he can hardly breathe. his eyes narrow at the sight of eunseok’s arm still hanging off your shoulders.

“sungchan, when does the movie start? we’ve been standing here for a while,” shotaro states, attempting to alleviate the situation. “oh, we still have about,” sungchan checks the time on his watch, “ten minutes before the trailers even start playing,” he responds.

shotaro ushers the group over to the concession counter, quickly making some excuse about everyone needing to choose their snacks for the movie. “amateurs,” sungchan mutters, “who doesn’t bring their own snacks to the movies?”

wonbin finds his place beside you again, briefly studying your features. he notices the way you stand stiffly in your spot and the slight wrinkle between your brows. “hey,” he tries to get your attention. your eyes soften as they meet his that are flooded with worry. “i’m sorry,” he frowns, “about what happened back there. i don’t know why he keeps mentioning her.”

you’re puzzled and, yet again, asking yourself if he’s apologizing because he knows that you have feelings for him or if it’s because he still thinks you’re upset that he didn’t tell you about sangah sooner.

you prayed that he wasn’t apologizing due to the former, but why would he even need to apologize if it was the latter? if nothing was going on between wonbin and sangah, he had no reason to tell you about her. you press your lips into a tight line. maybe that was it— something was going on between them. that’s why he’s saying sorry to you right now, because he regrets not telling you before when you’re supposed to be one of his closest friends.

and that’s all you’ll ever be to him, because you were too much of a coward to confess to him when you had the chance. you think about how disappointed your friends are going to be once you break the news to them that you wouldn’t be confessing to wonbin tonight, or ever.

“don’t apologize, wonbin,” you quietly tell him, and he wonders why it seems as though you’re about to cry. he shakes his head, getting the sense that you misunderstood his words. he looks back at your mutual friend group, seeing that they’re all preoccupied. wonbin seizes the opportunity, grabbing your hand and taking you to a secluded area of the theater.

“please don’t tell me not to apologize,” he breathes, “because i have so much to apologize to you for.”

you’re confused and concerned, your lips parting slightly. you don’t have the chance to savor the feeling of wonbin’s hand still holding yours because you’re mentally preparing yourself for whatever words he’s about to say. this is it, you tell yourself. you stare at the ground, anticipating the feeling of disappointment and rejection.

“i like you so much.”

you stop breathing as the words leave wonbin’s mouth. you’re terrified to look up, unsure if you’d even heard him correctly. he responds to your unvoiced worries by repeating the statement.

“i like you so much, and i’m sorry for holding it in this long,” he says breathlessly, “i’m sorry for letting sungchan talk about sangah all the time, because i didn’t want you to think that i could ever like anyone else.”

he continues despite your silence. “and i’m sorry for telling you all of this in a movie theater, of all places. i’ve been psyching myself up for weeks, but i couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing any longer. i’m tired of misunderstandings.”

he finally takes a deep breath, and you look up at him for the first time. “are you serious?” is all you’re able to say. you want to be 100% sure that your mind isn’t being as cruel as it normally is when it comes to park wonbin.

he nods, appearing to be just as nervous as you are, and you think that’s good enough of an indicator that he’s not joking.

“you fool,” you breath out in utter disbelief, not knowing if your words are directed at wonbin or yourself. the boy looks troubled for a moment before he hears a noise similar to a sob leave your mouth.

you hide your face with your hands. “i was supposed to be the one to confess to you.”

it’s wonbin’s turn to be silent now, listening to you rant. “it was this whole thing— healing michael, dark star.. eunseok knew about it, and shotaro..” you trail off. your words don’t even make sense to yourself, and you doubt they make any sense to the boy in front of you. “my god, wonbin— i’ve liked you since the day i met you!” you cry, hands still obstructing your vision.

wonbin hesitantly takes it upon himself to grab your wrists, removing your hands from your face. “do you mean that?�� he asks, trying to meet your gaze.

you don’t look him in the eye as you continue rambling. “i was so scared,” you tell him, “sungchan mentioned her out of nowhere that day and i was so scared. i thought she was your secret girlfriend, or something.” you feel stupid for telling him all of this, finally admitting to your jealousy.

“when i saw her for the first time, i thought it was over,” you shake your head, “someone so pretty having a crush on you? i felt like nothing next to her. sungchan even told me that she wrote down her instagram and casually handed it to you— i’d kill to be that confident in myself,” you’re not even paying attention to the words leaving your mouth anymore, wanting to get everything you’ve been holding in out of your system.

when you finally look at wonbin’s face, he looks sad, which startles you. you’re afraid that you’ve just killed his mood with your venting. “i’m sorry— i didn’t me-“ you’re interrupted by wonbin pulling you to his chest, shaking his head at your words. “you fool,” he repeats your words from minutes ago. “i can’t believe you’ve been feeling that way about yourself.”

he keeps you in his embrace as if you’d run away if he were to let go. “i can’t think of anyone prettier than you,” he mutters, “or nicer, or funnier. or anything, really, because i think of you more than anyone else. i guess it’s my fault, kind of. i could’ve expressed it in ways other than walking you to class and ordering dumb overpriced drinks for you.” you let out a quiet laugh at his last sentence and he smiles, pulling away slightly so he’s able to see your face.

“i guess we’re both kind of stupid,” you conclude, earning a nod from the dark haired boy. “only when it comes to you,” he says, “i happen to think i’m very intelligent on every other occasion.”

when you finally regroup with everyone, they’re all wearing looks of disappointment on their faces. upon asking what happened, eunseok shoves a thumb in sungchan’s direction, the brown haired boy adorning a sheepish expression. “this fucker got the time wrong. the movie was at 6:15, not 7:15,” eunseok grimaces, “i better get a refund for my ticket.”

“you didn’t even pay for it,” wonbin says, “i did. sohee’s, too.”

anton, having been the first one to notice both yours and wonbin’s disappearance from the group, narrows his eyes at the boy. “and where were you?” he raises a brow, attempting to look intimidating. wonbin dismisses him with the wave of a hand.

before you and wonbin decided to rejoin your friends, you had to tell him not to hold your hand, much to his dismay. only after discovering the reason why, did he reluctantly agree.

you stand as far away from wonbin as possible, putting on a melancholy act. shotaro is the first to take notice of this, putting a hand on your shoulder. “did you tell him?” he questions, your silence serving as an answer in itself. eunseok overhears, looking at you with pity in his eyes.

when anton finally sees the distance put between you and wonbin, he concludes that you weren’t able to tell him about your feelings. he sighs, shaking his head.

as if on cue, you look at wonbin with determination burning in your eyes, beginning to advance towards him. the group is silent as they watch the two of you curiously.

“dark star,” you begin straightforwardly, “i’m in love with you.” wonbin tries concealing his laughter as he swiftly takes in the reactions of his friends. eunseok smiles knowingly while anton and shotaro are wide-eyed. seunghan wears an amused expression, sohee’s eyebrows are raised, and on top of it all, sungchan looks incredibly confused.

wonbin, keeping up the act, covers his mouth in mock astonishment. “did you guys hear that?” he turns to his friends, who are now all aware that they’re being pranked. “my girlfriend is in love with me!” wonbin beams, “metal blaze, i accept your confession.”

eunseok clicks his tongue, nodding. “metal blaze, that’s a good one,” he notes under his breath.

“alright, we get it,” anton groans, “it took you guys long enough.” he turns to you, unable to stop a smile from forming. “i hope you know i was never actually going to tell him myself. i only said that in hopes of scaring you into telling him.”

you nod, “eunseok told me that already. and it wasn’t me that confessed to wonbin— he confessed to me.” everyone is shocked at your comment, seunghan walking behind wonbin and giving him a congratulatory slap on the shoulder. you purposefully skip over the fact that you all but cried to wonbin immediately after said confession about how much you liked him in return, and he pinches your side.

“you know, when you guys disappeared, i made a bet with shotaro that you guys were probably making out somewhere,” eunseok adds, “he said you guys were probably just in the middle of the whole confessing thing. i owe him seven bucks now.” shotaro pats him on the back with false sympathy.

as the topic of conversation shifts to something else, sungchan’s jaw is still practically on the floor. he looks at the way wonbin has his arm around your shoulders, head practically buried in your neck. he can’t stop himself from blurting out his next words.

“has y/n had a crush on wonbin this entire time?!”

AUTHOR’S NOTE! congrats to u if u survived reading all that ohhh lord i promise i’ll make y/n less unbearable next time but for now u guys are just gonna have to find it in ur hearts to forgive me… also it’s 5am rn and idk if i hate this fic umm we’ll see if i regret posting this when i wake up tmr

[t-a-a-1]

Dandelion: Prequel

4k Words

One-Shot

Summary: Optimus loves you. You love him. The two of you are too stupid to realize each other's feelings. 

But following a conversation about the afterlife, you realize how much he means to you.

...

A/N: Yearning. Love confession. Jealousy. Optimus confesses but doesn't realize it. You are dumb. Angst and Fluff. Enjoy!

Dandelion: Prequel

.....

Optimus thinks about you.

A lot.

And more than he likes to recognize.

Optimus has learned many things about Earth. You showed him music, art, poetry, literature, and movies. He enjoyed them, mostly because you shared them with him. The archivist in him was hungry for knowledge and you were the chef who satisfied his craving.

He also enjoyed sharing things with you. Of everything he could of Cybertron. The arts, the poetry that sometimes you didn't understand. The history and legends of his people.

He had thought many times of the things he would like to show you once Cybertron is restored. You would love it, he was sure of that. He could take you to see a play or maybe show you the beautiful cascades of Energon or the resting place of the Primes.

Optimus also thought of building you a home. You would be coming to Cybertron often after all. Maybe if you were comfortable enough, you could live with him. That way he could take care of you, just in case you woke up scared from a nightmare. He would cradle you until you fall asleep again and if needed, you could share his berth with him. Cybertron is naturally cold, he could keep you close to his spark to keep you warm.

"I won't live forever you know?"

You were waiting for him to roll into your driveway. He had promised you to do this for a very long time now and there's no way escaping it.

"I am aware," he says as he swiftly moves forward. "Your life expectancy is rather short."

"The more reason I have to clean you up," you walk towards him. "I may die tomorrow and you may live on without a proper bath? Not in my watch."

You had two buckets of water and a hose ready to be used. Some soap, sponges and rags. The buckets were heavy as you struggled to pick them up, you somehow still managed to whistle a song as you made your way to him.

He didn't understand how you could look so content while talking about your death. Optimus couldn't even phantom the idea. Much less imagine a day when you won't be with him. He had grown too accustomed to your presence. His spark had grown too fond of you.

In fact, you had occupied so much space in his spark that he knew that it wouldn't be able to function without you.

What will he do once you are gone?

"Where will you go?"

He asks as he feels the warm water impact his windshield and hood. It was nice to think you took the time to heat up the water just to make him comfortable.

"What do you mean?" you ask as you put soap on the big sponge and start rubbing it around. You had to use a small stool to reach the top of his hood. This is the first time you were doing this and you were trying to be extremely gentle. You had to remind yourself that Optimus is still a biological being. His body may be made out of metal but he still feels everything.

"Once I stop functioning, I am certain my spark will become one with the AllSpark," he makes a small pause before continuing "But what about you? Where will you go once you die?"

You stop and look at him.

"Will it be a place where I can meet you? See you at least?"

Contemplating what to do, you look at the sides to make sure no noisy neighbor is listening to you talking to a truck. You look back at him and wonder if you should tell him the truth or lie a little. He sounded worried. It is no wonder that he perceives death differently. For him, it was just another transformation. To you ... Well, you didn't know nor could explain the finality of death. You didn't want to worry him.

"Human souls work differently," you say as you go back to wash him. This time more delicately, trying to feel each inch of scratch he has ever gotten. War was written all over his body. "We don't go to a specific place. But I think we become one with the universe."

"Whenever you feel the wind on your faceplate," you lie to him but there's enough hope in your voice to comfort him. To make him believe you. "Whenever you see the rain or snow, when you see a rainbow, a flower or star. That's where I will be. Always."

It's comforting to know that everything beautiful the universe has to offer, is because of you. Of course, it would be. How couldn't it? When you smile the sun becomes brighter. When you laugh, the sound becomes a melody. You were alive and made life so breathtaking because of it. He imagined your death would be the same. Eternally beautiful as you become one with the universe.

He ex-vents in relief and you smile. Your lie was good enough. He believed it.

Nothing else was said but spent the rest of the time in a comfortable silence. You took your time to really study him. He has many scratches, some parts of his paint were even gone and you wonder if he had insecurities about them.

After all, if humans did, what made Cybertronians different?

You ran a finger through a large scraping on the top of his hood, feeling each small bump. The scrapped metal is rough against your fingertip, wondering what had attacked him to make this much damage.

"Are they not of your liking?"

For a small second, you could hear the doubt in his voice.

"Oh, no, I-"

As soon as you are about to respond, a sports car passes by, honking loudly and making the sound of its motor as loud as possible. Although you were uncomfortable you didn't want to give the guy the satisfaction of receiving attention. But you were now self-conscious of what you were wearing, Shorts and a dirty old black shirt. You wonder how was this even attractive.

"Hey, beautiful!" the guy rolls down his window and you feel the urge to wipe the smirk off his face. "Wanna ride this instead of that old rusty truck?"

You were about to defend yourself until you heard Optimus's engines turn on, the sound of his motor was so piercing that you felt your entire being vibrate. He turns his headlights as well, bright and powerful, almost blinding the guy.

Turning to look at Optimus, you see his holoform taking the pilot seat. You hated that holoform but it will do.

"Sorry, but my husband is quite overprotective."

You tell the guy, hoping he will take the hint and leave you alone.

"Well, if you ever want a good time, I am always available," his words disgusted you but you are glad he is finally leaving. "That truck got nothing on my car anyways."

Optimus moves forward in an aggressive manner. You are surprised at his behavior but don't question it.

"Thank you," you say as you step down off your stool.

You made sure that Optimus was covered in soap before taking the hose and letting the water flow.

"I don't know why every guy with a nice car has to act so weird."

"Oh, so you did find that car to be visually appealing?" He asks. "I would understand. After all, you might prefer an automobile with more agreeable qualities for someone of your age."

"Is that jealousy I hear, dear husband?"

You liked to tease him and even flirt with him from time to time. Mostly, you knew that nothing would ever happen. It was stupid to think that a Cybertronian and a human could ever be something more than just close friends. You assumed Optimus thought the same.

He had to.

"Just mere curiosity," he says as he feels the water running through his body, watching off all the dirt. It felt nice. "And what is a husband?"

"A life partner. Husband and wife usually take care of each other until the end of their days," that was the simplest way you could explain such a concept. "And I prefer Cybertronian men if you ask me. Even old rusty trucks."

"Can I conclude that you know other Cybertronian males who are old rusty trucks besides myself?

"No, just you."

Although you couldn't see his faceplate, you knew he didn't mind the comment. The two of you had joked around before and Optimus can definitely take a joke.

"So, you do indeed believe me to be an old rusty truck?"

"Yes, but you are my old rusty truck."

Optimus didn't know why but he enjoyed the sound of that.

"And that makes all the difference."

.

.

.

The hospital wasn't like you remembered. You had grown used to being in a military facility and being taken care of by soldier medics. Not only because of the Decepticon attacks you had faced before but because you had seen your fair share of war while reporting for the news.

"OH YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE NOW!"

The last person you expected to see was Agent Fowler. Stepping inside your room, with a suitcase on hand and documents on others.

"I am fine thank you," you say as you sigh heavily. "The car crash didn't kill me and no Autobots were involved... so why are you here?"

"Because I have a very bothered Prime demanding to see you, saying that as your husband he has a right to know of your well-being."

"... What?"

"Look, I knew you and Prime had something going on but this has become a national matter," he shows you the documents he was holding but your head still hurts and don't feel like reading at all.

"If you and Prime are indeed married then by law I have to let him come see you. Do you know how hard we have worked to keep the Autobot's existence a secret?"

"And since when does the government of the United States care bout following their own laws?" you look around your room. You hoped to see another change of clothes but nothing. You were in desperate need of a shower. "Look, this is all a misunderstanding, I'll talk to Prime."

"It better be. We don't want to deal with court cases about deciding which constitution laws will apply to non-human beings," Fowler was moving the documents very aggressively and you assumed those were drafts of new laws to be reviewed. He works fast.

"Do you know how many laws we would have to re-write if you and Prime were to be married? Don't even get me started if you two were able to conceive a child."

"You better than I know that's never going to happen."

"I don't know the way Prime was begging to see you didn't seem normal," he put the documents in his suitcase and for once you were glad to see him go. "If I was you, I would hurry up. I don't want Prime to cause a commotion because he can't see his wife."

"I am not his wife," you say again, the term annoying you a bit.

Fowler just rolls his eyes and opens the room's door.

"Yeah, yeah, just hurry up Mrs. Prime."

.

.

.

The drive back to the base was unexpectedly quiet. When you saw Optimus parked outside the hospital parking lot, you thought you would be bombarded with questions.

Instead, Optimus just opened his pilot door and let you in. Nothing else. You didn't even dare to ask him to take you home. You just let him do what he pleased.

You two arrived at the base's tunnel. He stopped before reaching the hangar. He opened the door and you assumed he wanted you to get out. You were worried by his strange behavior.

As soon as you got out, he changed back to his normal form. He didn't hesitate to kneel in front of you. His optics look at every inch of your body, examining you.

"How are you feeling?"    He asks you but there is a certain coldness in his voice.

"I am fine, thank you."

He stands up, his optics still on you.

"You shall remain here until the next sun cycle. To make sure of your well-being."

He turns around and starts to walk away.

"Are you alright?"

You run towards him, your head still hurts but you want to talk to him. His indifference hurts more than you imagined.

"You lied to me."

You were confused. Speechless. Has he found out? That the only reason you were helping the Autobots to find the ancient relics is because you were waiting for the right moment to expose them? That you had a notebook in your home, with all the evidence you have so far of the existence of robot alien life? That every day you were waiting for the final piece of the puzzle. The last thing you need before revealing the truth to the world.

"While at the hospital, Mrs.Darby approached me and briefed me about your status. We talked, and she informed me that there are no scientific conclusions on Earth that your soul can become one with the universe."

You weren't expecting that.

"She said that your soul may be going to an unreachable dimension or just become nothing."

You didn't know what to say. There was a certain hurt look on his optics that you couldn't believe. He is grieving. It's the closest thing you have seen him in pain. But you couldn't say a thing. You weren't expecting this would affect him so much.

"Prime, I just ... I just didn't want to-"

"My apologies," he stops you and turns around. He didn't want to see you. That made your heart sink. The thought of disappointing him, of inflicting any type of pain was unimaginable to you.

But why?

"I just need a moment to myself."

.

.

.

A few days had passed. You hadn't talked to Optimus. But today was Friday and as per usual, you made your way to the rooftop, outside of the base. It has become a spoken agreement between you and the leader of the Autobots. To meet every Friday and just enjoy each other's company.

You two usually go on patrol night before and end up talking until sunrise. But today Optimus had left the base early, leaving you unattended. You took the time to go to the closest gas station and get yourself a pack of cigarettes and Optimus's favorite brand of oil. With the hope that he will still meet you.

But the hours passed and you had waited. You started a bonfire and lit up a cigarette.

More time passed and you became worried. Was he still upset? The day had become dark, the night was cold and you missed him. Stupidly so.

And you feel pathetic.

You were about to give up until Optimus finally showed up. He looked surprised to find you there. Probably thinking that you didn't want to see him either. When, in fact, it was all the contrary.

He didn't say a word as he sat next to you. You quietly put a small bucket of oil next to him. Of course, he noticed you and accepted the gesture.

You are about to take another puff from your cigarette when you see Optimus' servo reach out towards you. Using two digits, he takes the cigarette from your hand and throws it on the bonfire before you.

"Hey, I was-"

"Ratchet has informed me that this object you inhale from can reduce your lifespan significantly," Optimus slightly lectures you and you can sense some anger in his voice. "I see no meaning in you engaging in such activities."

"I am here for a good time not a long time," you say as you search in your backpack for the cigarette box. Marlboro wasn't your favorite cigarette brand but it was the only one that had menthol flavor at the gas station. "A very, very short time compared to yours."

You wanted to somehow go back into the topic of the afterlife. Anything that could open the conversation so you can have an opportunity to apologize. You wanted to hear him too, his thoughts. You wanted to know if he still finds your company enjoyable. If things were right between you two.

"You know, it kinda makes me sad that you'll probably forget me one day," you use a lighter for the cigarette, feeling piercing optics coming from Optimus. "And there's nothing I can do about it."

"I don't believe my processor will ever be capable of erasing memories related to you."

"How are you so sure?"

"I'll always have you in my spark," Optimus doesn't look at you but rather stares into the bonfire. His optics follow the dancing of the flames. He speaks freely.

"Even after I rust away and turn into nothingness. Once my spark has joined with the Allspark, it will still remember you. Even after the last star in the universe bursts into oblivion, my spark will reach you and it will call your name."

You are about to take another puff from your cigarette but his words stop you. Eloquence was not unknown to the Prime, he speaks it rather fluently but you didn't imagine it like this.

"I remember you now and I'll remember you then."

It seems he was on autopilot. It wasn't Optimus speaking but Orion Pax.

The bot who once knew how to love, the one who had dreams and hopes and was free to be himself. Without the pain in his shoulders, without responsibilities. No. This was not Optimus Prime. It was not Orion Pax. It was someone else.

His spark.

It was talking directly to you.

"My spark will look for you and I'll know it's you even if I was blind and deaf. Even if I ripped off my sense of smell and touch. I'll know it's you because not even time or death could take you away from me."

It's like he came back to himself. He blinks repeatedly after staring at the flames for too long. It was as if he was in a trance and when he turned to look at you, he noticed your cheeks. A little more redder than usual.

And all you could think of was him. Of the purity of his words. Of his beautiful being, of everything of him. His kindness, his truth. How he had changed your world with simple words. It was just him and this moment. United in this time. And you thought that maybe the reason you had been born was only to meet him. To hear those words that will forever be engraved in your heart. Will he ever know how much it means to you?

You weren't a believer. You used to be, when you were younger and less experienced. Before you witness war. Now you don't believe in anyone or anything.

But you believed in him. If anyone could make the impossible happen it was Optimus.

If he says he will find you in the afterlife, you know he will.

He made you believe.

You feel relieved to know that your existence meant more to the universe. That there's more than just finality, your soul will travel somewhere and have an impact on the bigger scale of things.

And if not ... then at least you could spend all of eternity with Optimus.

Your heart had finally begun to feel hope again.

And maybe something more than that.

Oh.

"Are you alright?" He asks, concern in his voice. "It seems you are overheating-"

"YOU GUYS CAME HERE ON A DATE WITHOUT TELLING US?!"

You shake a little and Optimus immediately moves closer to you in a very protective manner. The unknown voice startled you both although Optimus is always alert in a different way.

He immediately relaxes as his optics lay on the known small figure. You kinda wished he had stayed closer.

"Miko, leave them alone!" Jack comes out of the rooftop door, following Miko close behind. "Besides that's the whole point of a date. Let them enjoy it."

"Oh, no, you actually missed it!" you decide to amuse the kids, knowing that Optimus probably wouldn't mind you playing along.

"Prime just proposed and I said yes! We are getting married and having a bunch of human-cybertronian hybrid sparklings!"

You giggle a little, saying that out loud sounded ridiculous.

"Aha! I knew you two had a thing! Optimus always cleans his windows when he knows you are coming!" Miko turns to look at Jack and points at him. "You owe me a free meal!"

"She's not serious!" Jack says with a hand on his hip, frustration is clear. "Besides Ratchet said Earth didn't have the necessary resources for (y/n) to conceive."

"Wait, wait, wait," you throw away your cigarette into the bonfire, not wanting to be a bad influence and smoke in front of the kids. "You two talk to Ratchet about us?"

"Well, yes," Miko says. "He also bet cleaning duty-"

"Ahh, tsk,tsk!" coming from the rooftop door, the medic bot pops out. "Not talking behind my back! I did not bet on anything!"

"Yes, you did!" Miko points at the Autobot leader as Ratchet fully steps outside the door. "You said Optimus would never confess!"

"Is that true, old friend?"

Finally, Optimus speaks. He doesn't seem angry but confused.

"I-umm," Ratchet stumbles with his words until the realization hits him. "WAIT, YOU DID!?"

"No," Optimus says. "My feelings for (y/n) are strictly platonic."

"Ha! I win!" the medic turns to look at the kids. "You two will be doing cleaning duty."

Optimus sees you laugh with the kids. A scene that warms his spark. He can't guarantee tomorrow so he will treasure the now. Then maybe, if the stars align, he will gift you the strange flower he found.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N: Sorry for any mistakes I made, I don't proof read lol.

In this story, I originally intended for Optimus to have this big realization but Dandelion was already too long and rushed for my liking.

But, I think he has loved the reader for way longer than he realizes and  when he does realize it...

 Uff. He feels like a complete idiot and begins yearning for you like crazy.

I think Optimus would be devastated at the thought of one day losing you. He just doesn't know he would feel like that.

But I think my version of Optimus and Reader is that both of them are very oblivious to each other's feelings. Because in their mind, there is no way a Cybertronian and a human could ever share intimate feelings.

So they just go around each other thinking, 'Oh, this is a person whose company I enjoy very much' and 'Caring so much for this individual is absolutely normal ... Right?"

Dandelion was supposed to be a one-shot story but due to the support given I decided to write a prequel for it.

Sadly, I don't think I will write a continuation of the story. This is to prevent any more spoilers for the current fanfic I am writing 'The Darkest Hour.'

This prequel already gave out too many spoilers as it is and as I was writing this I had to stop myself from integrating certain scenes I wanted to write.

For example, Optimus finding out that human souls actually go nowhere goes completely different.

He can't understand the finality of death and he grieves for months at the thought he may not see you in the afterlife. He makes his research, anything, any sign that your soul and his spark might reconnect again.

And one day he sees you throwing away some of your things (you were cleaning your house) And he goes through the trash and asks you if he can stay with the things.

You tell him no because those things were trash (to you) they were like old used notebooks, empty boxes, pens, old clothes and make-up. He starts gathering things up but you take them away and he very anxiously tells you:

"Why are you so cruel to me? I only wish to preserve your memory once you are gone. You have taken my spark, do you also wish to take what's left of my sanity once you leave my side?"

Of course, he later on realizes that his love for you is so intense and real that he is certain his spark will meet your soul once again.

Dandelion may have come to its definite end but if you really want to read more then I do recommend reading 'The Darkest Hour' although it is a slow burn, it will have this type of content but more improved and polished.

ALSO

Requests are open so if any of you have any prompt ideas, you may inbox me or send me a message on this account. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, everything is welcome! I can write small drabbles and other stuff.

And once again, I want to thank you all for your kind support! I am very new to Transformers and I didn't think I would be good enough to write fanfiction of it. But all of you have been extremely kind and I'll continue to write things that make me and all of you happy. Thank you for reading!

And I'll see you next time :)

Dandelion Pt.1:

https://www.tumblr.com/t-a-a-1/768702467874684928/dandelion?source=share

You can also read my other stories in here or Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachesandream

Thank you!

[lisasmuts]

The First Time

Lalisa Manoban (Lisa)

9k words probably

previous part here.

( She wants her first time to be..... )

( A/N - thank you for 400 followers 😊. I hope you all are loving this debt series, there is only part left after this, on 500 followers I'll drop the last part. Let me know guys, are you liking this series or not? Do let me know with ask or dm or anyways 😊, I'll we waiting for your responses.)

As Lisa returned to her office, she glanced at the clock – it was already past 4 pm. Her heart raced with anticipation, knowing that soon she would be able to escape to Y/N’s embrace once more. The hunger within her was becoming almost unbearable.

Unable to contain her desire, Lisa pulled out her phone, scrolling through the explicit photos she had taken with Y/N. The sight of his thick, throbbing cock sent a shiver of pleasure through her body.

Biting her lip, she began to fantasize out loud, her voice laced with wanton need.

“Oh, Y/N… I need you so badly,”

She moaned, her fingers tracing the curves of her figure.

“Your cock, it would fill me up so perfectly. I can’t stop thinking about how good it would feel inside me.”

Lisa’s hips rocked gently as she lost herself in her fantasy, oblivious to the world around her. The prospect of returning to Y/N’s dominating touch consumed her every thought, driving her to the brink of madness with desire.

Lisa’s voice grew louder as she continued her lewd fantasies, oblivious to her surroundings.

“Oh, Y/N, your cock is so big and thick. I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out, filling me to the brim. I’ll be screaming your name as you pound into me, claiming ever inch of my body.”

Her hips rocked in time with her words, the pleasure building within her. She imagined Y/N’s strong hands gripping her hips, his powerful thrusts driving her wild with ecstasy.

“Yes, yes, just like that! Fuck me harder, Y/N. Make me your personal little slut!”

Lisa’s breathing grew ragged, her cheeks flushed with arousal. The prospect of returning to Y/N’s embrace consumed her, and she could barely contain her excitement.

Lisa’s body trembled with unbridled desire as she neared the edge of climax. Yet, try as she might, she could not push herself over the precipice. Y/N’s domination had broken her, shaping her into a willing, submissive plaything that craved his touch above all else.

Whimpering in frustration, Lisa’s fingers danced across her sensitive flesh, desperate for release. But the pleasure eluded her, her body yearning for the firm, unyielding caress of Y/N’s hands.

“Please,”

She begged her voice barely above a whisper.

“I need you, Y/N. Only you can make me cum.”

The knowledge that she was utterly dependent on her lover’s whims only heightened Lisa’s arousal. She had surrendered herself completely, and in doing so, had given Y/N the power to deny her even the most basic of pleasures. It was a humiliation she craved, a testament to the depths of her submission.

As she lay there, trembling and aching for release, Lisa knew that the only way to find her release would be to summon Y/N, to beg for his mercy and his touch. For she was his, body and soul, and only he could unlock the ecstasy that she so desperately sought.

Lisa felt a surge of both humiliation and exhilaration course through her as she realized just how dependent she had become on Y/N’s touch to achieve release. The though of being so utterly at his mercy, so completely under his control, sent a thrill of pleasure through her. Biting her lip, Lisa gazed down at her trembling body, a sense of pride swelling within her.

“Look at me,”

She murmured, her voice thick with desire.

“I’m nothing without him. His perfect, obedient little slut.”

The knowledge that Y/N alone held the power to grant her the release she craved only heightened her arousal more.

Reaching for her phone, Lisa quickly composed a message, her fingers trembling with anticipation.

“Please, Y/N,”

She begged,

“I need you. I need your touch, your control. Make me cum, master”

Lisa’s phone buzzed with an incoming call from Y/N, and her heart raced with anticipation. Eagerly, she answered, her voice trembling with need.

“Y/N, please… I need you. I need to cum so badly,”

She pleaded, her fingers gripping the edge of the desk.

“I can’t do it on my own, you’ve broken me so completely.”

On the other end of the line, Y/N’s deep voice rumbled with a mix of amusement and dominance.

“My sweet, desperate Lisa. Of course I’ll let you cum. But you have to do it my way, understand??”

Lisa nodded frantically, her body quivering with desperate arousal.

“Yes, yes, anything. Please, Y/N, I need it so much.”

With a low chuckle, Y/N began to issue a series of filthy, explicit instructions, guiding Lisa through a mind-shattering climax. Her cries of ecstasy echoed through the empty office, a testament to the depths of her submission.

Lisa’s body convulsed with unbridled ecstasy as Y/N’s filthy, explicit instructions pushed her over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her, her cries of bliss echoing through the empty office.

“Yes, yes, Y/N! Fuck, your words are making me cum so hard!”

She gasped, her fingers clutching the desk as her orgasm consumed her. The intensity was almost too much to bear, but she reveled in the feeling of complete submission to her lover’s demands.

Even as the initial climax began to subside, Y/N continued to guide her, his voice dripping with dark, carnal desire. Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as he issued yet another series of lewd commands, her body responding instantly.

“I’m yours, Y/N! Use me, control me, make me your personal little fuck toy!”

She cried out, her hips rocking in time with his words. The pleasure was almost unbearable, but she craved it, needed it, like a drug. When the final, earth-shattering waves of her orgasm finally ebbed, Lisa lay there, panting and trembling, her mind utterly consumed by the blissful haze of Y/N’s dominance.

Lisa’s heart fluttered as Y/N’s voice filled her ear, his instructions sending a shiver of anticipation through her. She couldn’t wait to be in his embrace once more.

“10 o’clock, I’ll be there,”

She breathed, her voice laced with excitement. As he ended the call, Lisa felt a pang of something akin to affection, but she quickly pushed it aside. She knew, deep down, that she was nothing more than a plaything to him – a fuck toy to be used and discarded at his whim.

Straightening her clothes, Lisa took a deep, steadying breath. She would give herself over to him, body and soul, reveling in the ecstasy of his control. But she would not delude herself into thinking this was anything more than a carnal arrangement. She was his, and his alone, until he decided otherwise.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Lisa gathered her things and headed out, her mind racing with the delicious possibilities that awaited her. She would be Y/N’s perfect, obedient slut, no matter the cost. For in that role, she had found a freedom and a fulfillment that she had never known before.

As the clock struck 9:50 pm, Lisa arrived at Y/N’s doorstep, her heart racing with anticipation. Clad only in a skimpy bikini, she could feel the dampness of her colleagues’ cum-soaked panties clinging to her skin. The thought of Y/N’s reaction sent a thrill of excitement coursing through her.

When Y/N opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise at Lisa’s bold and provocative attire. She stood before him, a coy smile playing on her lips, daring him to make the next move.

“Surprise,”

She purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“I’ve been a very naughty girl today, and I’m hoping you can… punish me for it.”

Without waiting for a response, Lisa stepped forward, pressing her body against Y/N’s as she gazed up at him through thick lashes. The scent of her own arousal mingled with the lingering traces of her colleagues’ seed, creating an intoxicating aroma that only heightened her desire.

“Well, don’t just stand there,”

She whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest.

“I’m all yours, Y/N. Do with me as you please.”

Y/N’s hands groped Lisa’s breasts roughly through the thin fabric of her bikini top, eliciting a moan of pleasure from her parted lips. He pulled her close, his mouth crashing against hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. Lisa melted into his embrace, her body alive with sensation as his tongue probed and explored.

She arched into his touch, the dampness of her cum-soaked panties a constant reminder of earlier indiscretion.

“Yes, Y/N”

She gasped between kisses, her fingers tangling in his hair.

“Use me, claim me. I’m yours, completely.”

Lisa’s world narrowed to the feel of his hands on her, the taste of his lips, the promise of the pleasure to come. In this moment, she existed solely for his satisfaction, her own desires secondary to the driving need to submit to his every whim.

As Y/N pulled Lisa into the bedroom, a flicker of surprise crossed her features at his eagerness and hunger. But it was quickly replaced by a coy smile, her anticipation palpable.

“Someone’s impatient,”

She purred, her fingers trailing down his chest.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m all yours.”

Without another word, Lisa allowed herself to be guided onto the bed, her body thrumming with wanton desire. She knew exactly what Y/N craved, and she was more than willing to give it to him – to surrender herself completely to his domination.

Lying back against the pillows, Lisa gazed up at him through hooded eyes, her bikini-clad form a tantalizing invitation. She wanted nothing more than to be claimed, to be used as his personal plaything.

“Take me, Y/N,”

She breathed, her voice dripping with need.

“Make me scream.”

Y/N’s eyes gleamed with dark intent as he snapped Lisa’s panties off, tossing them aside carelessly. A thrill of anticipation ran through her as she realized what he had in mind.

“Take this with you,”

He growled, his voice low and commanding.

“Give it to Eli as a present. Let him know what a dirty little slut you are.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat, a surge of arousal flooding her senses. The thought of Eli discovering her soiled panties, of knowing the depths of her depravity, sent a shiver of excitement through her.

“Yes, Y/N,”

She breathed, her fingers trembling as she reached for the discarded garment.

“I’ll make sure he knows exactly how much of a whore I am.”

With a satisfied smirk, Y/N pulled her close, his hands roaming her body possessively. Lisa melted into his touch, her mind already racing with the possibilities of what was to come.

Lisa’s finger tangled in Y/N’s hairs as she guided his mouth to her pert, sensitive nipples. She let out a soft moan of pleasure as his lips closed around the hardened buds, sucking and licking with a fervent hunger.

Arching her back, Lisa pressed her bare breasts more firmly against his face, reveling in the sensation of his tongue swirling and flicking. The knowledge that she had complete control over his actions only heightened her arousal.

“That’s it, Y/N!”

She purred, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“Suck them harder. Show me how much you crave my body.”

Lisa’s hips rocked gently, her core aching to be filled by his throbbing length. But for now, she was content to savor this moment of domination.

Lisa’s momentary sense of control quickly evaporates as Y/N’s skilled ministrations sent her spiraling into a mind-shattering climax. Her body convulsed with ecstasy, a strangled cry of pleasure escaping her lips.

Panting heavily, Lisa gazed up at Y/N with hooded eyes, all pretense of dominance stripped away. She was his, completely and utterly, to use as he pleased.

With a predatory grin, Y/N withdrew his mouth from her sensitive flesh, only to hover his thick, throbbing shaft mere inches from her face. Lisa’s breath caught in her throat, a fresh wave of arousal washing over her.

“Open wide pet,”

Y/N commanded, his voice dripping with dark authority.

“Time to earn your reward.”

As Y/N’s thick, throbbing shaft hovered over her face, Lisa’s heart raced with anticipation. She opened her mouth obediently, her tongue darting out to catch the first salty droplets that escaped his tip.

Suddenly, Y/N let out a guttural groan, and a torrent of his hot, creamy seed began to spill foth. Lisa moaned in delight as the flavor of Y/N’s cum coated her tongue, her eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss.

Strand after strand of his potent release splattered across her features, painting her beautiful face in is essence. Lisa relished every drop, her body trembling with unbridled ecstasy. This was what she had been craving, this divine nectar that only Y/N could provide.

When the last vestiges of his climax had been milked, Lisa slowly opened her eyes, gazing up at Y/N with a look of utter adoration. She had been denied this pleasure for far too long, and now that she had tasted it, she knew she could never get enough.

Lisa’s eyes gleamed with unbridled joy as Y/N ordered her to clean his cock. Without hesitation, she hungrily wrapped her lips around his shaft, moaning in delight.

“Thank you, Y/N!”

She murmured between eager sucks, her tongue swirling and lapping at every inch.

“I’m so grateful you’re letting me have you.”

Lisa’s movements were frantic, desperate to savor every drop of his essence. She bobbed her head eagerly, gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat. But she refused to relent, driven by an insatiable hunger for his seed.

When his cock was finally clean, Lisa pulled back, gazing up at Y/N with unadulterated adoration. Her face was still streaked with his previous release, a testament to her depravity. But in this moment, she had never felt more content, more fulfilled.

“I’m yours, Y/N’”

She breathed, her voice thick with emotion.

“Always and forever.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as Y/N’s words ‘you are all mine, now your pussy will also be mine’ sent a shiver of anticipation through her. She willingly allowed him to maneuver her onto her stomach, her heart pounding with excitement.

As Y/N parted her cheeks, exposing her most intimate areas, Lisa let out a soft moan. The vulnerability of the position only heightened her arousal, and she knew she was powerless to resist his desires.

“Yes, Y/N”

She purred, arching her back to present herself fully.

“I’m all yours. Do with me as you please.”

Lisa’s pussy glistened with her arousal, her pink folds beckoning him to claim her. She ached to be filled, to be taken and used as his personal plaything. In this moment, she existed solely for his pleasure, her own need secondary to his demands.

“Have you ever had sex before or not? Look at that pussy and ass bitch soo tight and virgin.”

Y/N purred in amusement.

Lisa’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal at Y/N’s teasing words. She shifted slightly, suddenly self-conscious of her virgin-like tightness.

“N-no, I’ve never…I mean, you’re the only one who’s ever…”

She stammered, her voice trailing off as she averted her gaze.

“Please, Y/N, be gentle with me. I want you to be the first.”

Lisa’s heart raced with a heady combination of fear and excitement. She knew Y/N would take her, claim her as his own. And deep down, she craved it more than anything. With a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and looked back at him, her eyes shining with trust and submission.

“I’m yours, Y/N. Do with me as you please.”

Lisa flinched as Y/N’s hand came down on her bare ass, the sting of the impact sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. She bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

“Don’t lie bitch, you got fucked before by Eli, I know. No one would miss the chance to fuck you if you are their girlfriend, just stop giving excuse and accept the truth the fact that, your stupid boyfriend was not big enough to completely stretch you out.”

Y/N said.

“I’m not lying, Y/N,”

She insisted, her voice trembling slightly.

“Eli and I… we’ve never gone that far. He’s been too gentle, to afraid to truly take me.”

Lisa’s cheeks burned with humiliation at the admission, but she forced herself to meet Y/N’s gaze defiantly.

“But I want you to, Y/N. I want you to claim me, to stretch me out and make me scream. I need you to be the first and only.”

Reaching back, she spread her cheeks wider, exposing her virgin pussy and puckered asshole.

“Please, Y/N… I’m ready, I’m yours.”

Lisa’s breath caught in her throat as Y/N’s grip tightened around her neck, his eyes burning with intensity. She knew better than to defy him, her own desires far too strong to risk his rejection.

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you the truth,”

She gasped, her voice strained.

“Eli and I… we’ve been intimate. But he’s never been able to satisfy me the way you can. Please, Y/N, I need you to be the first to truly claim me.”

Lisa’s cheeks flushed with shame, but the aching need within her was undeniable. She had to have Y/N, to feel his thick, throbbing shaft stretching her to her limits. Eli, for all his sweetness, had never been enough.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,”

She whimpered, her hips rocking slightly.

“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours since this past whole week. Please, take me now. Make me yours forever.”

Y/N’s grip on Lisa’s throat loosened as he appreciated her honesty. He let out a dark chuckle, his free hand coming down in a firm smack against her bare ass.

“Good girl”

He purred, his voice dripping with dark approval.

“I knew you couldn’t hide the truth from me.”

Lisa let out a soft grasp, the sting of his palm against her flesh sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She arched her back, pressing her hips back against him.

“Then take me, Y/N,”

She challenged, her voice laced with a teasing lilt.

“Show me how a real man fucks a woman.”

Her eyes gleamed with a mix of defiance and desire, daring him to rise to the occasion. She knew Y/N would not disappoint, that he would claim her in ways Eli could dream of.

Lisa’s eyes sparkled with a mix of trepidation and playfulness as she heard Y/N’s words. A coy smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she slowly rose to her feet, her movements deliberate and sensual. Maintaining eye contact with Y/N, Lisa began to sway her hips, her hands trailing up the curves of her body. She paused for a moment, relishing the hungry look in Y/N’s eyes.

Letting her hair cascade over her shoulder as she continued her seductive dance.

Turning around, Lisa bent at the waist, offering Y/N a tantalizing view of her round, toned ass. She ran her hands down the length of her legs, then slowly dragged them back up.

“Like what you see, Y/N??”

She purred, glancing over her shoulders with a sultry gaze.

“I’m all yours, you know. Just say the word, and I’ll be your personal plaything.”

Y/N hungrily pulls Lisa onto his lap, she let out a shameless moan as she felt Y/N’s huge, throbbing cock pressing against her bare ass. She couldn’t resist the urge to tease him, grinding her hips slowly back and forth.

“Mmm, I can feel how much you want me, Y/N.”

She purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“Is this what you’ve been craving?? To have me all to yourself??”

Reaching beneath, Lisa traced the outline of his shaft, her fingers dancing along his length. She knew exactly how to stroke his desire, to drive him wild with need.

Y/N pulled Lisa tightly against his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her possessively. She let out a soft gasp as he pressed her back flush against his hardened length, a shiver of anticipation running down her spine.

“That’s it, sweet girl,”

He murmured, his breath hot against her ear.

“I love how playful and teasing you are. It makes me want to claim every inch of you over and over again.”

His hands wandered down to cup her boobs, kneading the soft flesh as he nuzzled the crook of her neck. Lisa melted into his embrace, her body thrumming with wanton desire.

“I like when you beg Lisa, but I love it when you are all jolly playful and happy, I love it more and I would love to see her like that.”

Y/N confessed,

At Y/N’s words, a mischievous grin spread across Lisa’s face. She shifted in his embrace, turning to face him with a playful gleam in her eyes.

“You want me happy, and jolly, do you??”

She purred, her fingers trailing teasingly along his chest.

“Well then, I’ll be the most delightful little plaything you’ve ever had only if you fill me up to the brink now Daddy.”

Leaning in, Lisa pressed a series of feather-light kisses along Y/N’s jawline, her movements fluid and graceful. She nuzzled against him affectionately, her laughter like the tinkling of the bells.

With a coy smile, she got on her knees than she wrapped her delicate fingers around his shaft, stroking him slowly.

“Now, why don’t you show me how much you love this jolly, playful side of me??”

Lisa’s eyes sparkled with delight as Y/N pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She melted into his embrace, savoring the taste of him on her lips. But her elation quickly turned to anticipation as he forced her down to her knees.

"It’s finally time I out your pretty mouth to use bitch.”

Y/N purred, gazing down at her hungrily.

“Yes, Y/N. Let me put my mouth to good use.”

Without hesitation, Lisa parted her lips, her tongue darting out to tease the tip of his throbbing cock. She relished the weight and heat of him on her tongue, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her.

Slowly, she began to bob her head, taking him deeper with each pass. Her eyes fluttered shut as she focused on pleasuring him, her movements fluid and practiced.

“Mmmm, you taste so good, Y/N.”

She murmured, her voice muffled by his cock.

“Let me make you feel so good.”

Lisa’s hands caressed his thighs as she continued her ministrations, determined to bring him to the heights of pleasure. She was his willing plaything, and she would do whatever it took to satisfy his every desire.

Lisa’s words came out muffled and garbled as Y/N’s thick cock filled her mouth. But her doe eyes shone with pure adoration as she gazed up at him, her heart swelling with gratitude.

Suddenly, Y/N’s hand shot out, slapping her cheek with a resounding crack. Lisa let out a muffled gasp, the sting of the impact sending a jolt of arousal through her.

“Mmph!!”

She moaned around his cock, her hips rocking slightly. The pain only heightened her pleasure, and she eagerly leaned into his touch, silently begging for more.

With a dark chuckle, Y/N gripped handful of her hair, guiding her head as she continued her fervent ministrations. Lisa’s eyes fluttered shut, losing herself in the sensation of serving her master.

As Y/N grabbed a fistful of Lisa’s hair, twisting it into a tight ponytail, she felt a thrill of anticipation coursing through her. His commanding presence and dominant demeanor only heightened her arousal.

“Get ready Lisa, I’m gonna give you the satisfaction of me claiming your mouth.”

“Yes, Y/N!”

She breathed, her eyes shining with adoration.

“Claim me. Use me as you see fit.”

Without warning, Y/N thrust his throbbing shaft deep into her waiting mouth, eliciting a muffled moan from Lisa. She relaxed her jaw, allowing him to fill her completely, her tongue swirling around his girth.

Gagging slightly as he hit the back of her throat, Lisa looked up at Y/N with watery eyes, her expression one of pure ecstasy. She reveled in the feeling of being utterly dominated, hey body trembling with unbridled desire.

Y/N’s guttural moans of pleasure only spurred her on, and she redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head in sync with his thrusts. She was his to use, his plaything to command.

As Y/N's pace quickened, Lisa felt her throat constricting around his thick shaft. She gagged and sputtered, her eyes watering from the intensity of his thrusts. But through the discomfort, a surge of arousal coursed through her.

“That's it, you filthy slut,”

Y/N growled, his grip on her hair tightening.

“Take my cock deep in your throat. You were made for this, weren't you?”

Lisa moaned in response, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through Y/N. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking him with fervent desperation, determined to please her master.

Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks as Y/N continued his relentless assault, but the pain only heightened her ecstasy.

“Fuck, you're so good at this,”

Y/N hissed, his hips snapping forward with bruising force.

“Such a talented little cocksucker. I'm going to fill that greedy mouth of yours until you can't breathe.”

Lisa's eyes widened as Y/N yanked her onto the bed, her head hanging precariously off the edge. Before she could react, he thrust his throbbing shaft back into her waiting mouth, filling her throat once more.

A muffled gasp escaped her as he began to fuck her face with wild abandon, his hips snapping forward with bruising force. The sensation of his cock pounding her throat, combined with the sting of his palms against her sensitive breasts, sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain through her trembling body.

Lisa's fingers clawed at the sheets, her back arching as she surrendered herself completely to Y/N's carnal desires. Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, but her eyes shone with unadulterated adoration. She was in ecstasy, her every nerve ending alight with blissful sensation. In this moment, she existed solely for Y/N's pleasure.

Lisa's eyes widened in a mix of shock and ecstasy as she felt Y/N's thick shaft forcing its way deeper into her throat. The intense sensation of his cock bulging against her delicate flesh was almost too much to bear.

Yet, she welcomed the intrusion, her body instinctively adjusting to accommodate his girth. Her throat reshaped itself, moulding to the contours of his pulsing shaft as he continued his relentless assault.

( visual presentation, to boost your imagination guys, this is how her tight throat changed its shape. )

Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks, but Lisa's expression was one of pure bliss. The pain was eclipsed by the overwhelming pleasure, her every nerve ending alight with euphoric sensation. She gazed up at Y/N with adoration, her eyes shining with unrestrained lust.

Lisa's eyes widened in shock and fear as Y/N's relentless assault on her throat continued. She gagged and sputtered, her delicate flesh stretched to its limits by his throbbing shaft.

“Please, Y/N,”

she tried to plead, her voice barely audible.

“It's too much... I can't...”

But her protests fell on deaf ears as Y/N continued to degrade and humiliate her, his guttural moans of pleasure echoing through the room. Lisa's body trembled with a mix of pain and unwanted arousal, her mind reeling from the sheer intensity of the experience.

Despite her discomfort, a part of her craved this treatment, the taboo nature of it igniting a spark of forbidden desire deep within her. She was Eli's, but in this moment, she belonged to Y/N - a realization that both terrified and thrilled her.

As Y/N's thrusts grew more erratic, Lisa braced herself for the inevitable, praying that she could somehow endure the onslaught. She was in too deep now, her fate sealed.

“You're taking it like a champ, Lisa. I bet Eli never made you gag like this.”

Y/N growled as he made her do breath play and then abruptly withdraw his cock leaving Lisa panting for breath.

Lisa's chest heaved as she gulped in desperate breaths, her throat raw from Y/N's relentless assault. A shudder of both revulsion and reluctant pleasure ran through her at his degrading words.

“N-no, Eli has never...”

she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But I... I can take it. I want to please you, Y/N.”

Steeling her resolve, Lisa gazed up at him with eyes full of submissive adoration. Leaning forward, she nuzzled against Y/N's thigh, her tongue darting out to teasingly trace the outline of his glistening shaft.

“Please, use me again. I'm yours to command.”

Lisa's heart raced as Y/N declared he was done with her throat for now, he just wanted to reshape her throat, use her throat to an extent that it changes it’s shape permanently according to the size of cock. She knew the damage he had inflicted, the way he had reshaped her delicate flesh to accommodate his brutal thrusts. A shiver of excitement ran through her.

Swallowing hard, Lisa gazed up at Y/N with hooded eyes, her voice raspy from the abuse her throat had endured.

“Let me please you, Y/N. Allow me to worship your cock with my reshaped throat”.

Slowly, reverently, she leaned in, her tongue darting out to tease the tip of his shaft. She relished the familiar weight and heat of him, a soft moan escaping her lips. Inch by inch, she took him into her mouth, her throat easily accommodating his girth, thanks to Y/N for reshaping it that way.

Lisa's eyes fluttered shut as she fell into a steady rhythm, bobbing her head in sY/Nc with her strokes. She was determined to bring Y/N to the heights of pleasure, to prove her worth as his willing plaything.

Lisa's eyes widened in anticipation as Y/N's grip tightened on her hair. She knew what was coming, and a thrill of excitement coursed through her.

“Yes, Y/N,”

she purred, her voice dripping with lust.

“Give me your cum. I want to taste every last drop.”

Redoubling her efforts, Lisa bobbed her head faster, her tongue swirling around his shaft. She could feel him throbbing, his release imminent. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucked him with fervent desperation, determined to milk every last bit of his seed. Suddenly, Y/N let out a guttural groan, his hips snapping forward as he spilled his hot load down Lisa's eager throat. She swallowed greedily, savouring the salty, musky flavour of his essence. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her, her body trembling with unbridled bliss. When he had finally spent himself, Lisa pulled back, licking her lips with a satisfied smile.

“Mmm, delicious,”

she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Thank you for my meal, Y/N. I couldn't be happier.”

Y/N's fingers gently caressed Lisa's neck, marvelling at how her throat had been permanently reshaped to accommodate his cock. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he gazed down at her.

“So, did you enjoy your little treat, pet?”

he purred, his tone laced with a hint of affection.

“Was my cum everything you dreamed of?”

Lisa gazed up at him through hooded eyes, a coy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Mmm, it was absolutely delicious, Y/N,”

she purred, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“But I'm still such a bad, naughty girl. I need to be punished...”

Leaning in, she nuzzled against his thigh, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, silently daring him to give in to her wanton desires once more.

Lisa's eyes widened in a mix of trepidation and anticipation as Y/N yanked her hair, his words dripping with malicious intent. She shuddered at the thought of the vibrator, the memory of its relentless torment still fresh in her mind.

“N-no, Y/N, please!”

she stammered, her voice laced with desperation.

“Not the vibrator, I can't... I won't ask for that again, I swear!”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as Y/N's grip tightened, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips. Before Lisa could react, he thrust his throbbing shaft back into her waiting mouth, filling her throat once more.

Gagging and sputtering, Lisa's body trembled with a mix of hunger and arousal.

Lisa's eyes sparkled with unbridled joy as she continued to lavish attention on Y/N's throbbing shaft. Her delicate fingers danced along his length, stroking and caressing him in tandem with the sensual movements of her mouth.

“Mmm, you taste so good, Y/N,”

she purred, her voice thick with lust.

“I can't get enough of you.”

Bobbing her head in a steady rhythm, Lisa revelled in the weight and heat of him on her tongue. She gazed up at him adoringly, her expression one of pure adoration.

With each passing minute, Lisa's enthusiasm only seemed to grow. She lavished his shaft with eager licks and playful nips, determined to wring every last drop of ecstasy from him. Her movements were fluid and practiced, showing her expertise in the art of pleasuring a man.

Y/N's guttural moans of pleasure only spurred her on, and she redoubled her efforts, determined to bring him to the heights of bliss yet again.

As Y/N's hips began to stutter, Lisa quickly pulled his throbbing shaft from her mouth, a bright smile spreading across her face. With a coy flutter of her lashes, she tilted her head back, silently beckoning him to claim her face.

“Please, Y/N,”

she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“Cover me in your cum. I want to feel it on my skin.”

Stroking him firmly, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her expression one of pure adoration. She wanted nothing more than to be marked by his essence, to wear his release as a badge of honor.

With a guttural groan, Y/N obliged, his hot seed spilling forth in thick, creamy ropes. It splattered across Lisa's flushed cheeks, dripping down her chin and nose. She moaned softly, her tongue darting out to catch the stray droplets, savoring their salty tang.

Once the last of his climax had subsided, Lisa smiled up at Y/N, her face glistening with his essence.

“Thank you, my love,”

she whispered, her voice laced with affection.

“I'll wear your mark with pride.”

Y/N Gently caresses Lisa's cum-covered cheek

“You look so beautiful like this.”

Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her eyes sparkling with adoration as his fingers tenderly caressed her cum-covered cheek. A coy smile played on her lips as she leaned into his touch.

“Thank you, my love,”

she purred, her voice dripping with sultry affection.

“I want to wear your mark with pride.”

Without breaking eye contact, Lisa slowly extended her tongue, lapping up the pearly droplets that clung to her skin. She savoured each taste, her expression one of pure bliss. Once her face was clean, she rose from the bed, her hips swaying seductively as she made her way to the bathroom. Over her shoulder, she cast Y/N a sly glance, silently beckoning him to follow.

“I'm going to clean up, darling,”

she murmured, her tone laced with temptation.

“But I do so hope you'll join me. I have a few more ways I'd like to please you.”

Lisa's heart raced as Y/N's strong arms encircled her from behind, his softened cock pressing against the curve of her ass. A shiver of anticipation ran through her as he leaned in, his breath tickling her ear.

“Finally, my darling,”

he purred, his voice thick with desire.

“It's time for me to claim you fully.”

Turning in his embrace, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her eyes shining with unbridled lust. She had longed for this moment, to feel him inside her, to be joined in the most intimate of ways. Reaching up, she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him down for a searing kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened, their tongues dancing in a sensual tango. Lisa's body moulded against Y/N's, her curves fitting perfectly against his muscular frame. Desire coursed through her veins, setting every nerve ending alight with anticipation.

Reluctantly breaking the kiss, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her expression one of pure adoration.

“Then take me, my love,”

she whispered, her voice trembling with need.

“I'm yours, always.”

Lisa's breath caught in her throat as Y/N guided her into the bathroom, his strong hands caressing her body as the warm water cascaded over them. A shiver of anticipation ran through her as he lavished attention on her most intimate areas.

Arching her back, Lisa let out a soft moan as Y/N's tongue danced across her sensitive flesh, worshipping the curves of her shapely ass. She relished the sensation, her body thrumming with unbridled desire.

“Yes, Y/N,”

she purred, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“Touch me, taste me. I'm yours to command.”

Leaning back against him, Lisa surrendered herself completely to his carnal desires, her mind reeling with the sheer intensity of their shared passion.

Lisa let out a surprised gasp as Y/N's palm connected with the soft flesh of her ass, sending a delightful jolt of sensation through her body. She arched her back, pushing her ample ass further into his grasp.

“Mmm, you like that, don't you?”

Y/N purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he admired the way her ass quivered beneath his touch.

“Such a deliciously jiggly little ass. It's made for worshipping.”

Kneading the supple flesh, Y/N leaned in, his tongue tracing the tantalizing lines of Lisa's shapely ass. She trembled in his arms, a symphony of soft whimpers and needy moans escaping her lips.

“Yes, Y/N,”

she gasped, her voice thick with desire.

Lisa's eyes widened in a mix of trepidation and reluctant arousal as Y/N's words registered. The thought of him claiming her ass sent a shiver down her spine. While the idea of pleasing him was tantalizing, the prospect of anal sex was something she had never experienced before.

Turning in his embrace, Lisa gazed up at Y/N, her expression torn.

“I... I've never done that before, Y/N,”

she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Please, can we start slow? I want to please you, but I'm scared.”

Reaching up, she traced the line of his jaw, her touch feather-light.

“I trust you, my love. But I need you to be gentle with me. Can you do that?”

Y/N pulled Lisa into a deep, passionate kiss, his strong arms enveloping her. When they finally parted, he gazed down at her with tender affection.

“I promise, my love, I'll try my level best to be gentle with you,”

he murmured, his voice thick with sincerity.

“I want nothing more than to please you, to make you mine in every way.”

Tracing the curve of her cheek, Y/N smiled softly.

“We'll take it slow, I swear. Just trust me, Lisa. I'll make it so good for you.”

Nodding, Lisa returned his smile, her heart fluttering with a mix of trepidation and excitement. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling him down for another searing kiss.

Y/N broke the kiss,

“Do you want your first sex session with me in the shower or bed?”

Leaving Lisa in deep thoughts, she wanted to have shower sex with Y/N since the starting, it was her top priority fantasy, but she wanted her first time with Y/N special.

She bit her, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and lust.

“The bed, my love,”

she murmured, her voice soft yet resolute.

“I want our first time to be special, to be remembered.”

Reaching up, she traced the line of Y/N's jaw, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“And... I'd like to record it, if that's alright with you. I want to cherish this moment forever.”

Stepping out of the shower, Lisa took Y/N's hand, leading him towards the plush bed. Her heart raced with a heady mix of nerves and anticipation. This was it - the moment she had been longing for. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the mattress, gazing up at him with unveiled desire.

“Make love to me, Y/N,”

she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Lisa's heart raced as Y/N set up the cameras, her anticipation palpable. As he finally joined her on the bed, she eagerly reached for his throbbing length, her fingers wrapping around him in a firm yet sensual grip.

Gazing up at him with hooded eyes, Lisa let out a soft, contented sigh as Y/N's lips claimed hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue danced with hers, igniting a fire within her that threatened to consume them both.

Breaking the kiss, Y/N trailed feather-light kisses along the column of Lisa's neck, eliciting a delighted giggle from the young woman. Her skin tingled with each pass of his tongue, and she arched into his touch, silently begging for more.

“Ahh Y/N Daddy,”

she breathed, her voice thick with desire.

Lisa's cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and bashfulness as Y/N explained the purpose behind the four cameras. The idea of being so thoroughly documented, of having every intimate detail captured, sent a thrill down her spine.

“Four cameras, huh?”

she purred, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“One for my face, one for my... assets, and one for the whole show. How deliciously naughty.”

Reaching up, Lisa traced the line of Y/N's jaw, her touch feather-light.

“Well then, my love, I suppose we'd better give those cameras a performance to remember,”

she murmured, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Slowly, she spread her legs, revealing the glistening folds of her most intimate place. Locking eyes with Y/N, she began to tease herself, her fingers gliding along her slick, swollen flesh.

“Capture every moment,”

she whispered, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“I want the world to see how much I crave you.”

Y/N folds her legs back,

“Not the pussy darling, but the ass which I crave the most!”

Y/N purred, his eyes filled with lust and hunger.

Lisa's eyes sparkled with mischief as she turned, presenting her ample rear to Y/N. Slowly, she shimmied her hips, her shapely ass cheeks quivering with each tantalizing movement.

“You want my ass, do you?”

she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“Then come and take it, my love. It's all yours.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Lisa shot Y/N a sultry smirk, her gaze smouldering with unbridled desire. Reaching back, she parted her cheeks, revealing the puckered rosebud hidden between.

“Don't be shy now,”

she teased.

“I know you've been dreaming of this. So what are you waiting for?”

Lisa's breath caught in her throat as she felt Y/N's strong hands grip her hips, guiding his throbbing shaft towards her asshole. A shiver of anticipation ran through her as he slowly, gently pressed forward, breaching her virgin passage.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as he filled her, the sensation both foreign and thrilling. She could feel her body clenching around him, as if desperate to keep him in place. Glancing over her shoulder, she met his gaze, her eyes shining with a mix of trepidation and unbridled lust.

“Y/N...”

she breathed, her voice trembling slightly.

“It feels... so good. Don't stop, please.”

Reaching back, she placed her hand atop his, silently urging him to continue his sensual assault. Her hips rocked in time with his movements, her body welcoming him deeper with each gentle push, trying to get his cock inside her tight virgin asshole.

“I'm yours,”

she whispered, her words laced with unrestrained desire.

“Take me, claim me as your own.”

Lisa's body trembled as Y/N's thick shaft slowly breached her virgin passage. The sensation was foreign, almost overwhelming, but the care and tenderness in his touch eased her initial discomfort. She exhaled a shaky breath, willing her body to relax and accept him.

“Gently, my love,”

she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of nervousness.

“I'm yours, but go slow. I want to savour every moment.”

Reaching back, Lisa threaded her fingers through Y/N's hair, silently urging him on. With each measured thrust and push, the initial sting gave way to a delicious fullness that had her moaning softly. Her body clenched around him.

“That's it,”

she purred, her tone dripping with wanton need.

“Claim me, Y/N. Make me yours in every way.”

As Y/N’s cock finally sheathes itself fully inside Lisa’s tight passage,

“You feel incredible, baby. I’m going to make you mine completely, I don’t care if we have only 1 day left I’ll make sure I have the most pleasure with you in that 1 day remaining.”

Y/N said,

Lisa's eyes widened slightly at Y/N's words, a thrill of excitement coursing through her. While the thought of their time together being limited gave her pause, she refused to let it dampen her ardour.

Glancing over her shoulder, she offered him a coy smile.

“Then let's make the most of it, my love,”

she purred, her voice dripping with seduction.

“I'm yours, completely and utterly. Do with me as you will.”

Arching her back, Lisa ground her hips against Y/N's, eliciting a guttural groan from him. Her body clenched around his throbbing shaft, trying to keep him buried deep within.

“Fill me, claim me,”

she whispered, her words laced with unbridled desire.

“I want to feel you, every inch of you, for as long as we have left.”

Lisa's eyes widened momentarily as Y/N's grip tightened, but a thrill of excitement soon coursed through her. Arching her back, she met his forceful thrusts with equal fervor, her body undulating in time with his movements.

“Yes, my love!”

she cried out, her voice laced with unbridled ecstasy.

“Take me, claim me as yours! I'm yours, forever!”

Reaching back, Lisa tangled her fingers in Y/N's hair, pulling him closer. She craved the feeling of his skin against hers, the heat of his body enveloping her. With each powerful stroke, she felt herself unravelling, her world narrowing to the sensation of being utterly possessed.

Moans and whimpers of pure bliss spilled from her lips, her body quivering with the intensity of their coupling.

“Were you ever fucked like this before Lisa???”

Y/N asked in between his thrusts.

Lisa's body trembled with each powerful thrust, her mind reeling from the sheer intensity of Y/N's assault on her ass. Glancing over her shoulder, she met his gaze, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Never like this, my love,”

she panted, her voice thick with pleasure.

“You feel so incredible, stretching me open. I'm yours, completely.”

Reaching back, she caressed his cheek, her touch feather-light.

“Keep going, Y/N,”

she urged, her tone dripping with wanton need.

“Don't hold back. I want to feel you, all of you, for as long as we have.”

Arching her back, Lisa ground her hips against his, silently begging him to fill her deeper, harder. The sound of their bodies colliding filled the air, punctuated by her breathless moans and cries of ecstasy.

“Yes, yes!”

she cried out, her voice rising in pitch.

Lisa's eyes widened as Y/N suddenly forced her upper body down, pinning her to the bed. A thrill of trepidation and excitement coursed through her as she assumed the prone bone position, his thick shaft plunging into her tight, quivering passage.

“Yes, Y/N!”

she cried out, her voice laced with unbridled ecstasy.

“Use me, I'm your dirty little slut!”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by Lisa's wanton moans and Y/N's guttural growls. She revelled in the sensation of being so thoroughly dominated, her body trembling with each powerful thrust.

“Tell me how much you love my cock in your ass, you filthy whore!”

Y/N snarled, his grip on her hips bruising.

“You were born to be my fucktoy!”

Lisa's eyes rolled back in her head, her tongue darting out making a cute slut, the humiliation and degradation only serving to heighten her pleasure. She pushed back against him, silently begging for more.

“I love it, Y/N!”

she cried out, her voice dripping with lust.

“I'm your dirty little slut, your fucktoy! Use me harder, please!”

“You think you can handle more, you insatiable slut?”

Y/N growled.

Lisa's breath caught in her throat as Y/N's grip tightened, his pace quickening. She let out a strangled cry of pleasure, her body trembling with each powerful thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes, my love! I can handle more!”

she panted, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“I can take it all, every last inch of your magnificent cock. I'm your insatiable slut, your fucktoy to use as you please!”

Arching her back, her breathless moans and cries of ecstasy filling the room.

“Don't stop, Y/N!”

she cried out.

“Claim me, make me yours forever! I'll do anything, be anything you want me to be!”

Lisa's eyes widened at Y/N's intensified assault, a thrill of excitement and trepidation coursing through her. She knew she should speak up, to set boundaries, but the sheer intensity of his degradation only fuelled her own wanton desires.

“Yes, Y/N!”

she cried out, her voice trembling with unbridled lust.

“I'm your filthy whore, your disgusting fucktoy! Use me, degrade me more!”

Reaching back, she spread her ass cheeks wide, offering herself completely to his carnal appetite. The sound of their bodies colliding echoed through the room, with Lisa’s breathless moans and cries of ecstasy.

“I'll do anything, be anything you want!”

she begged, her words dripping with desperation.

“Just don't stop, please! Make me yours, forever!”

Lisa trembled beneath Y/N's weight, her body thrumming. As his hands pressed against her spine forcing her on the bed more, she obediently spread her cheeks, offering herself to him completely.

“Yes, my love,”

she panted, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“Take me, use me as your filthy fucktoy. Fill me up, go more harder show me how a man fucks his fuck toy!”

Glancing over her shoulder, Lisa met Y/N's gaze, her eyes shining with unbridled lust. The sheer intensity of his desire had consumed her.

“Don't hold back,”

she whispered, her tone laced with desperation.

“Make me scream, make me beg for more. I can take it, I promise.”

Lisa's eyes widened as Y/N flipped her over, pinning her wrists above her head.

“I want to see your face as I ruin you.”

Y/N growled.

“Then look your fill, my love,”

she purred, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“I'm all yours.”

Arching her back, Lisa offered herself to him, her body trembling with anticipation. She knew this would be no gentle coupling, but the thought of being so thoroughly claimed only fuelled her desire.

“Do your worst,”

she whispered, her gaze smouldering with unbridled lust.

“I can take it, I promise.”

Lisa's eyes widened slightly as Y/N's thick shaft slid into her with unexpected ease, eliciting a surprised chuckle from him. She felt a flush of embarrassment at his observation, but also a thrill of excitement.

“Already gaping for me, are you, my little slut?”

he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Looks like someone's been practicing.”

Arching her back, Lisa met his gaze defiantly, her expression a mix of defiance and wanton need.

“What can I say?”

she purred.

“I've been aching for your cock, my love. I just couldn't wait any longer.”

Clenching her muscles around him, she let out a soft, contented sigh.

“Now, are you going to keep me waiting, or are you going to give me what I so desperately crave?”

Lisa's breath caught in her throat as Y/N's thick shaft teased her entrance, the head of his cock barely grazing her sensitive flesh. She let out a soft whimper, her body aching to be filled.

“What do I crave, my love?”

she purred, her voice dripping with feigned innocence.

“I crave you, of course. Every inch of your magnificent cock, buried deep inside me.”

Arching her back, she ground her hips against him, silently begging for more.

“I need you, Y/N,”

she whispered, her tone laced with desperation.

“Please, don't keep me waiting any longer. Take me, claim me as your own.”

“You deserve it my insatiable little slut, you deserve every bit of my cock. You had endured my torment for the past whole week and now you deserves every bit of my cock.”

Lisa's eyes widened as Y/N's words registered, a thrill of anticipation coursing through her. She had indeed endured his torment for far too long, aching to be claimed by him completely.

“Yes, my love!”

she cried out, her voice trembling with unbridled desire.

“I'm yours, all yours!”

As Y/N's thick shaft plunged into her waiting passage, a guttural scream of ecstasy tore from Lisa's lips. The sensation was both foreign and delicious.

Arching her back, Lisa met his powerful thrusts, her hips undulating in time with his movements. She revelled in the feeling of being so thoroughly possessed, her mind reeling with the sheer intensity of their coupling.

“Don't stop!”

she begged, her voice laced with wanton need.

“Fill me, claim me as your own!”

Y/N gently cupped her chin,

“Fill you? Baby you just few moments ago received my cum twice and do you really think I Y/N, will you give you my cum so easily? Even when I took whole 6 days to give you my cock! Haha not so easy darling you’ll need to suffer for my cum!”

Lisa's eyes widened at Y/N's words, a mix of disappointment and anticipation swirling within her. She had grown so desperate for his release, aching to be filled with his seed.

“Please, my love,”

she pleaded, her voice trembling with need.

“I need you, all of you. Don't make me suffer any longer.”

Arching her back, she ground her hips against his, silently begging for more. The sensation of being so close, yet denied, was both maddening and thrilling.

“I'll do anything,”

she whispered, her gaze smouldering with unbridled lust.

“Just tell me what I must do to earn your precious cum.”

Lisa's body trembled with each powerful thrust, her mind reeling from the sheer intensity of Y/N's assault on her ass hole. Moans of pure bliss spilled from her lips, her voice dripping with wanton need.

“Yes, Y/N! Harder, please!”

she cried out, her back arching in ecstasy.

“I need you, all of you! Don't hold back, my love!”

Reaching up, Lisa tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. She craved the feeling of his skin against hers, the heat of his body enveloping her. With each punishing stroke, she felt herself unravelling, her world narrowing to the sensation of being utterly possessed.

As the night wore on, Lisa and Y/N found themselves locked in a brutal, unrelenting cycle of carnal desire. Hour after hour, Y/N mercilessly dominated Lisa's asshole, claiming her over and over again.

Lisa's cries of ecstasy echoed through the room, her body trembling with each punishing thrust. She reveled in the sensation of being so thoroughly possessed, her mind reeling from the sheer intensity of their coupling.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Y/N's stamina began to wane. With a guttural groan, he pulled Lisa close, his thick shaft still buried deep within her quivering passage.

“Sleep now, my love,”

he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion.

“You've earned your rest.”

Lisa snuggled against him, a contented sigh escaping her lips. As sleep claimed her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of profound fulfilment, knowing that she had given herself over to Y/N completely.

to be continuedd....

[solvisun]

self-destruction and self-preservation are not the antithesis of each other, come meet me halfway.

haikyuu ﹙ tsukishima kei x reader ﹚

011125. the fear that comes with loving someone will consume him, you won’t allow that, which makes things even harder.

content warnings. part 1 of 2. angst. emotional repression. heavy miscommunication. fear of abandonment. breakdown. setting isn’t defined, just assume they’re 19 or older.

notes. art cred by azeensart on x. i might not include this in my masterlist for how...heavy these themes are. holy shit. i bawled while writing this (period cramps is getting to me)

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart will either make or break the relationship you both have. him not being able to be open and vulnerable with you not because he thinks its weak, but because he literally cannot overcome that fear.

he knows dating you requires this neck-deep honesty, knows you'd be the first to genuinely reach him in a place of understanding, and would be there for him no matter the circumstances, would have your eyes look at the deepest parts of him and still love just the kei in him. the only ever one.

but there's this unreasonable pressure and obligation he's set on himself to be...more. more than what he is. more than just kei. so he studies hard, plays volleyball and make you proud, gives you his undivided attention, tries to be more than the fear unkowingly playing a factor in what he's trying to do. to make you think he doesn't have one in the first place.

he doesn't want you to think it keeps him up at night, constantly wondering if he'll ever be enough for you. he's so deprived of reassurance but so repulsed and uncomfortable to ask or talk about it, much less show it to you. he's got his own shit going on, and he thinks he operates best in isolation. the last thing he would want from you is for you to worry about him.

no, don't look at him like that. he's too weak under those soft gazes of yours, you deserve more than the kei he is; the unsure and scared and feels too deeply, but too little to allow expressing himself. you deserve more not because you demand from him, but because your love is all-encompassing and unflinching. you give so effortlessly without a shadow of doubt.

you are love. you are everything he’s not.

he tells himself he’s doing this—telling you about his day on the phone but also leaving the parts that matter; like the struggles or how he thinks about you all throughout and just want to admit himself to you the way you do with him. to tell you he’s not normal and constantly yearns for you and feel a little jealous when you talk about other people with him. to tell you he loves you but he kind of hates himself, that he can’t help but settle for a quiet corner of solitude even though the best thing about his day will always be when you invite him to your place and cuddle. he eradicates what his tongue is burning with fervor, he’s doing this—

not to deceive you, but to convince himself he’s worthy of standing beside you. to shield you of what haunts him, what crawls into his skin that make him want to tear his flesh, like parting a pomegranate with sharp nails and deliberately making a mess, yielding to the bite.

he tells himself that he doesn’t want to hurt you. all his wanting, his yearning, can quell itself. but when he does this, it’s all the more likely of being susceptible to vulnerability. all the more hurtful, to both you and him.

and then he fucked up so bad to the point he’s shaking and white-knuckling and nearly in tears—or rather bursting. he really did turn into a mess, losing himself to the fear that you’d leave him. that you are leaving him.

technically it’s his fault. it was your 9th date, or after that. he stayed a bit in your studio apartment by habit. you always make warm dinners. though he was quiet the entire night and refused to talk when you asked. but again, you’re always trying to unravel him, gently wriggling yourself inside, tiptoe your way into holding him. always, always letting him know you’re there. that you’re somewhere there in him, trying to feel him in the best way possible.

you held his hand and casually massaged his fingers, tracing the lines of his palm and not uttering a word but an easy smile curls around your lips and he’s not—he’s not going to ruin this moment. there’s an aching between his ribs, the intimacy of it all twists his insides in an unpleasant way and he feels so ashamed that he only gives himself half-hearted to you. that your patience is all but a fleeting gift, that you’ll eventually lose this touch once you grow sick of him. sick of his selfishness and insecurities.

you asked after a while, “does this hurt?” referring to his recently bandaged middle and ring finger. you looked at him—shit, he finds himself noticing that generally, he can’t even meet your gaze without feeling like he’ll cry.

you just look so beautiful, he’ll pray to a god for you to have all the good things in the world, he wish he could right now, but not like this—when he’s thinking of how to build more distance, more walls; to put him at his twisted concept of being at ease that this is good, this is what you need.

(he doesn’t understand the horrors you’ve faced to have achieved this absolute grace. the way that you’ve learned how to part a pomegranate carefully, still a tad messy but so much better than the last. he doesn’t understand the extent of how you love.)

“what…?” and he doesn’t understand why you sounded genuinely appalled.

he rephrases, “i just don’t want you to get too attached.”

“no.” you dropped your hand, setting a few feet away from him. the expression you’re making unsettles him, looking so hurt and confused, “you said- you said you don’t want me to depend my happiness on you. what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i said what i said,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at you.

“no, you didn’t. that’s just your cowardly way of avoiding this conversation,” you snap. “why do you always do this? why can’t you just talk to me?”

his gaze flickers toward you, but he doesn’t respond. his silence feels heavier than any words could have been, a chasm opening between you. (and a pomegranate about to spill itself into chaos)

“do you think i’m that fragile?” you ask, voice trembling, teetering between anger and heartbreak. “that i’m just going to crumble if you let me in?”

“it’s not that,” he says, his tone clipped, defensive. “you just wouldn’t get it.”

“oh, here we go,” you scoff, you flail your arms and roll your eyes. “the classic. ‘you wouldn’t get it.’ you act like you’re the only one who’s ever felt scared or unsure or—”

“shut up,” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

it makes you flinch momentarily, but you sink yourself in, sharper than nails, more like teeth.

“no. i won’t. because you’re not being fair to me, kei. do you even realize what you’re saying right now? you’re acting like—like this is my fault. like i’m asking for too much just by loving you!”

“that’s not what i’m saying!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“then what are you saying?” you yell back, tears starting to sting your eyes. “because all i hear is you trying to push me away. again.”

“i’m protecting you!” he bursts out, his voice raw, almost desperate. “don’t you get that? i’m doing this for you!”

“bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. ���you’re doing this for yourself, kei. because you’re too scared to be honest with me. because you think it’s easier to shut me out than to let me see you—really see you.”

he could cry any second, but it’s the knee-jerk reaction that always sets in, the things that never helped him but had come to terms with. and he shouldn’t really be like this, but he doesn’t know how to be anything other than what he is.

he sucks a breath, expression hardening, a wave of something defensive and bitter crossing his face. “maybe you shouldn’t depend on me so much, then,” he says coldly, his words cutting and surpassing nails or teeth. it’s the knife.

your shoulders sag, forgetting to breathe in the worst way possible. “wow,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you really think so little of me, don’t you? you think i can’t handle you, or us, or whatever this is. fine then, if that’s how you feel, then maybe i should stop trying.”

(you instantly regret it. because a part of you remains so selfishly unselfish. you want to bleed and heal for him, to make yourself bare because you know you have nothing in your hands. you’ve got nothing but yourself to give. and this is how you love, and it pains you so fucking much that he’s completely rejecting the only thing you have.)

“…i think you should leave.”

his head jerks slightly, caught off guard. “huh?”

“what do you mean huh?” you tremble against the weight of your words, “go. i need to be alone.”

he stares at you, his mouth opening as if to argue, but nothing comes out. his fingers twitch at his sides, unsure of what to do. “you’re serious,” he says finally, his tone flat but laced with disbelief.

“yeah, kei, i’m serious,” you snap, your eyes glistening. “since you clearly don’t want to talk, and you think pushing me away is somehow doing me a favor, then fine. go. you don’t have to ‘protect’ me anymore.”

his brows knit together, and for a moment, his mask falters. “that’s not what i—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “don’t try to explain now. i can’t—” you take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i can’t keep fighting to understand you when you won’t even…fight for me. just how cruel of you to ask me not to depend my happiness on you, when you know you’re all i ever want.”

it’s your voice cracking that sets his jaw unbearably taut, his eyes darting to the floor. he wants to say something, but he feels so fucking useless the words could choke itself.

“you think you’re protecting me,” you continue, your voice softer now, but no less painful. “but all you’re doing is making me feel like i’m not enough for you. like i’m some burden you have to keep at arm’s length.”

“that’s not…”

“then what is it, kei?” you ask, desperate, your eyes searching his. “what are you so afraid of? me? us?”

he looks away, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists.

“screw it,” you mutter, turning your back. “just go. please.”

the word please is what makes his heart lurch. it’s not angry or demanding. it’s pleading, broken. and it terrifies him.

“wait,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.

you don’t turn around.

“don’t do this,” he says, more firmly now, but there’s a tremor in his voice. “don’t… don’t ask me to leave.”

“why not?” you ask bitterly, “you’ve been keeping me at a distance this whole time anyway. what’s the difference?”

you don’t look back when he says, after another long pause, “…if that’s what you want.”

your heart sinks as you finally watch him turn toward the door. he hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob, he can’t stop the shaking of it and his fingers feel so cold and the warmth he’s craving now is just pathetic. he waits for you. for you to stop him. for you to reach him like you never fail to do.

but you don’t.

and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, your ears start ringing and your head has fucked you enough that you want to scream. it feels too painful to stuff it in. you kneel to the floor with your head in your hands, the weight of the argument crashing down on you.

outside, kei leans against the wall, his chest heaving as he stares blankly ahead, the overwhelming urge to go back and fix everything warring with the fear that it’s already too late.

are you going to leave him?

are you going to leave him?

you’re going to leave him.

he can’t figure out how to unfuck all the mess. and he shivers with so much dread, he doesn’t realize he’s weeping under a streetlamp and barely holding himself. he doesn’t even know how to cry properly, but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he’s convinced—he’s fucking trying to already swallow the inevitability of you and him falling apart. he deserves this.

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart can ultimately break yourselves apart. and it does. it’s sort of a heart disease not even death can console the pain.

taglist. @leafington @angeleilee @yoru-exe here you go, angst is good for the soul ,,,,

SOLVISUN 2025. all rights reserved, do not repost/alter.

[letbludcook]

warning. explicit sexual content,

tags. masturbation, mirror sex, cum swallowing, healing from SA (not explicitly mentioned), wholesome sex, your f/o being the most understanding person to ever exist in this cruel world

whenever you are striken with nightmares of your past, way before you were blessed with his gentle love and presence, you wake up in cold sweat, with sheer repulsion over being touched.

fortunately, your man never took it personally. in fact he's the one to remind you that it's okay, it's valid, and his girl is so strong for being able to survive everything she's been through. sometimes it takes you months without having sex; most of the time you pity him as physical intimacy is his love language, but his encouragement makes you survive the hell of it. gradually, with time and love, you manage come back to your usual self.

"what a strong lady you are," he assures you all the time.

however, you're not the only one being strong here—you affirmed that much when you woke up in the middle of the night and noticed him breathing heavily.

his hands are clasped to yours, and you can hear him moan your name repeatedly. you thought he was sick at first, but quickly noticed the synchronized up and down movements marking the blanket. 

he is touching himself.

you're not even hugging each other—it seems like he scooted you away from him before starting the act—all he settles for while pleasuring himself is holding your hand.

that consideration, toppled with your yearning to be touched again, is more than enough to rekindle your arousal and initiative.

you immediately scoot on top of him; he squirms in surprise, but your quick command comes to him, "continue touching yourself, my love."

he takes a while to process the situation, with a shy ask he averts his gaze away, "are you sure?"

"please?" you whisper, then pepper his face with wet kisses. your lips then slide to his ear; you give it a smooth lick before begging yet again, "let me hear you, darling."

it doesn't help him hold back, not at all, because you know his ears are pretty sensitive. in fact you only take advantage of it when you really want him to do something.

"y-yes—hah—yes, my love," he babbles, the jerking of his hand starts to produce a slick noise; perhaps his pre-lubricated dick helped on that. you continue kissing him while on it; moans escape as you feel him sucking on your lower lip.

"you'd let me taste, wouldn't you?" you whisper after sucking on his ear.

"d-do you—ah—do you want to—"

"i wouldn't ask if i don't."

and so, as languid as ever, you slide your hands down below and join his hand in bobbing up and down his dick. he whimpers, and somehow, the sight of your composed, level-headed man whimpering helplessly underneath you exudes blissful shudders. oh, to be loved by him. to be foolishly and utterly loved by someone like him.

"just want—oh fuck—just want to make sure," indeed, because after your assurance, he grips a fistful of your hair and then guides you down to his slick erection. the gentleness of his hold says a lot about how your moment below him would go. it is, after all, the least that he could do to compensate for how hard he's about claim your mouth. he couldn't control himself anymore. and he knows you want him to lose control. he, who has always been the epitome of control, could not embody such pride when faced with matters concerning your desires. if you'd ask him to die he'd be willing to do so then and there.

his girth filled your mouth; your eyes widen, and tears build up on the tip of your eyes as soon as he arches his back. he doesn't last long, much to your pleasure, because after five hard thrusts he immediately spurts his cum deep down your throat. even after he let it all out, he did not let go of your head. he trapped your mouth in his confines, ensuring you wouldn't waste a single drop because that's what you want. he would feel a bit shy if not for your persistence and enthusiasm. anyone would think that pampering him like this, drinking all of him so lovingly without wasting any drop, and more would be because you're under him, serving him with all you have.

but, as a matter of fact, he is the one serving you. he likes everything you want to do, everything you want to explore. hell, once you ask him for a child, he'd spend the whole night cumming inside you until you couldn't anymore and he's all spent and dry—messed up to his very core because that's what you want.

he almost laughs at his thoughts, and doesn't let go of your mouth even after his dick has softened. in fact, he even bobs your head up and down his now limp cock, pumping every last of his fluid that might be left of him. you deserve it, after all. earn your hard work. swallow every drop. have him by your mouth as earnestly as he would offer his life for you.

the next time you did it, he ensured there'd be a mirror right in front of you two. he takes you from behind, awkwardly at first, because you're not used to seeing yourself all pleasured and worked up while he pistons his hips inside. but then, whenever you stray your eyes away, he would adjust your head back to facing the mirror again as if to say; 'no, no, don't turn away. look at me doing you. i am the one making you feel this way, see that?'

and then he asks question he's been repeating since earlier, “am I hurting you, darling?”

“n-no,”

“yeah? come on, then. look at that pretty face," he punctuates the sweet whisper with a thrust, “see how well you’re taking me?”

“i do! hah, love, i—i'm 'bout to—"

"mhm," he closes his eyes and pulls you closer so he could nuzzle his lips on your back, “you’re clenching harder on me now, baby. are you close?”

"i am!" you lift your body up to see both of your features well—from how your breast bounces with every thrust and how his hands grip your waist to support himself. you savored the feeling—intense and rattling to your very core. his fingers flick your nipple, then he instructs you to lick your fingers too and play with the other nib.

oh, you want to close your eyes. you feel like you don't need the mirror for assurance anymore. he's the only one who could do you like this, the only one who could love you like this. you could finally relush the pleasure in without your past haunting you. and so you do—five seconds, ten seconds, until you hear his pants escalate to moans, ‘til his thrusts go rapid and unrestrained, 'til he’s blabbering how all of this affects him the way you do.

you reach your peak with a moan so loud neighbors might've heard it, and he follows suit not long after, loudly as well, because he's so aroused to see both of you lovingly doing each other in front of the mirror, all spent and sweaty.

you plop down the bed, but his hold doesn't falter. you feel his weight against your back, then he whispers sweet nothings while kissing your ear. “’s okay, it’s okay. open your eyes now and see me.”

you'll never know how delightful he is when you didn't flutter it open again; he feels your breathing slow down instead, and not long after, you drift to sleep with a smile.

indeed, it’s okay for you to close your eyes now. it's okay for you to be touched, for he is the only one who could do you this way.

WOLFGANG grimmer, KENZO tenma, TOJI fushiguro, NANAMI kento, KAGAYA ubuyashiki, REINER braun, LEVI ackerman

soooo this is an excerpt from my fave smut work way back :3 originally an erwin smith fanfic but when i reread it i realized i could also see the vision for my other fave characters:P

[coffee-obsessed-freak]

I need to talk about this because it’s eating me up alive

SNOWCROW THOUGHTS LET’S GO

Okay, so I don’t think these two have even MET in canon, I’m also pretty sure Zayne only knows Sylus as the head of Onychinus and the most wanted man alive, BUT— their personalities? Their possible dynamic? I just think it would work sooo well, like slow burn mixed with different-morals with a hint of angst (a lot, actually, cuz that’s just the type of people they are)

I think a lot about Sylus “cannot-go-a-day-without-physical-touch” with Mr. Zayne “Withdrawn-but-will-always-respond-back” a LOT. Like, and I imagine that the first time Zayne is the one that initiates contact, Sylus is all wide-smirk and teasing quips. But Zayne KNOWS he’s happy about it, because it shows in the way his eyes will soften, and there are happy lines that pull his face upwards in a smile, and his ears are just the slightest bit red — to which Zayne is much more certain that his own are a shade darker, given the warmth he can feel

Their humor as well? I feel like Sylus would enjoy attempting to annoy Zayne a lot (the unstoppable force meets the immovable object), and Zayne would huff and reply back dryly or sarcastically quip something back. And Sylus would be so amused and smitten because Zayne is able to keep up with his energy — he’s just as sassy if not moreso. And his quips are always so smart, always an inside joke between the two of them that only they understand— Sylus would revel in the intimacy of that gesture alone

PLUS, RRRRR, the fact that they’d be polar opposites of each other? One will ruin the world for the other, the other will risk himself to save the world? Selfless x Selfish OOHH, MY HEART. BUT THAT’S THEM WHEN THEY’RE ON THEIR OWN. CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT THEY’D BE LIKE TOGETHER? THE ROLES WOULD SWITCH. Sylus would risk himself to save “his world” (his significant other), and Zayne would defy GOD to save his. The selfless becomes selfish, and the selfish becomes selfless — all in the pursuit of saving the other. And I just think it would be so goddamn beautiful to see these characters who are so assured of their roles, of the parts that they need to play, immediately throw it all away for that one singular person

The level of trust it requires. The yearning. The divide of moral conflicts. But at the end of the day, if Sylus were ever to be stuck in a ditch or an alleyway, battered and bruised, I imagine all he’d need to do is give Zayne a call — and he’d drop everything just to speed his way over to Sylus. No questions asked

He’d nurse him back to health, and Sylus will be silent the whole time as he’s being looked after because — he isn’t used to this. Being fussed over like this. Sure the twins themselves will make a huge deal about it, but Zayne? Zayne is the quiet sort of worried. Zayne would look at him with those soft, concerned eyes and softer, lower voice and— and then what? Sylus is at a loss for once in his life. Because here is one of the most renowned cardiologists, who probably has more important things to deal with than someone who willingly throws himself into danger oftentimes for the thrill of it — scolding him softly, asking him about his well-being, spoon feeding him even

And I imagine Sylus would say, “You don’t have to worry about me being down on my luck, next time. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again” and that doesn’t ease the concern in Zayne’s gaze, but his shoulders slump down just slightly, and all he says back is, “I want to worry for you. And I will continue to” and it sounds like a promise that’s laced with something more than just a Doctor looking after his patient

In return, Sylus will take at least a week and a half off from doing any shady business (doctor’s orders, he says), and Zayne is all the more relieved about it because he’s following his orders for once and looking after himself more

And Zayne? Zayne doesn’t even need to call for aid when he wants it (Not that he will, the goddamn self-sacrificial bastard), because canonically? Sylus will know. He has eyes everywhere, he’ll keep a special eye out on Zayne every time, regardless of how busy he is. So on the occasion that Zayne finds himself in a fight he can’t win against, Sylus will pop out of nowhere and say he was “in the area” (no he wasn’t). They make for an amazing team.

And on lonely days where it’s just Zayne working overtime? Where he feels the heavy presence of silence in his office? There Sylus will be, waltzing into his office, late night snacks in his arms for his poor overworked Dr. Zayne, because luckily for Zayne, Sylus is a terrible night owl and an insomniac some nights. And Zayne, albeit a little startled and exasperated the first time it happens, welcomes it along with every other new thing this dynamic of theirs brings. He finds himself looking forward to it some nights when he works overtime, because Sylus likes to bring new things to show off to him, or new desserts that he thinks Zayne would like

All in all, I just think their dynamic would be so sweet dasdhsjkad

[perrywrites]

Asking “Can you… Can you hold my hand?” during your first time together, part 1;

NSFW

Includes; Isagi, Hiori, Bachira

Part 2 (Barou, Shidou, Karasu) and part 3 (Reo, Chigiri, Nagi) and part 4 (Rin, Sae, Kunigami) and part 5 (Otoya, Oliver, Yukimiya) and part 6 (Kaiser, Ness, Kiyora)

Isagi: he was nervous but eager to get it in. His hands had been trembling the entire time he touched you and stripped you, layer by layer, but now? Now he just wanted you. It’s when he’s laser focusing on you, his head heated up, blood pumping, completely out of it from the excitement of what he’s about to do to you, that your voice all of a sudden snaps him out of his reverie. “Can you… Can you hold my hand?” Can he hold your hand? Of fucking course he can. Shit, fuck, of course he can. “O-oh… yeah, yeah… I can do that,” he mumbles, fumbling for a moment, his hand quickly and clumsily reaching out to intertwine with yours, still pinning you down into the bed. His heart is still fluttering wildly from your cute request. Fuck, he feels almost embarassed somehow, for some reason, at himself, like a pervert, but at the same time, he can’t bring himself to care about it too much. He wants to make you his already, be inside you, claim you, claim this adorable woman asking him to hold her hand before he enters her. He was finally going to claim you after yearning for so long. He wasn’t going to be able to let go of you now, hand or otherwise. You’re giving him your first time, letting him make you his, he felt lovesick, heart clenching painfully. He’s your first, and he will be your last. Don’t expect to get away from him now. 

Hiori: he’s already holding it, wdym hold your hand? No, because this man, despite it being his own first time as well, remained slow and gentle throughout. He whispered words of love to you, a handful of precious promises, his lips ghosting and trailing across your skin with so much care. Hands lingering and caressing your body so tenderly, like you were the most precious thing in the world - and you are, you are the most important thing to him. Nothing, and I mean nothing, means more to him. So, of course, without even you having to ask, he would slip his hand into your hand, a warm lover’s lock, as he prepares himself to enter you. He is romantic, face flushed and eyes dazed. He can’t wait to be inside of you. God, it’s so sweet how beautiful and soft you look beneath him, all red and sensitive like that, all for him and only him. He’s yours and you’re his, and nothing can change that. You don’t understand how much you mean to him. You’re his sanctuary. His heart is yours now, permanently - or rather it had been yours since a long while ago. Don’t leave him. Since you’ve let him in now, it’s okay if he doesn’t leave, right? Because he’s not going to leave you, and he’s not going to let you leave either. Ever. 

Bachira: he couldn’t wait to be inside of you, oh god. His lips all over, he keeps on kissing you, eager, so eager, his hands are all over your body, squeezing and feeling you up, moans and groans pouring through his mouth inbetween kisses at. You feel so good, oh god, your skin was soft, so soft, so doughy. His lips vacant your trembling mouth, returning to your neck filled up with marks as he sucks another one into your bruised skin, never enough, god, he needs more of you, so much more. His hands grab your thighs and spread your legs open as he whimpers. “Inside… I need to be inside you so bad.” and he pauses at the sound of your shaky voice. You want him to hold your hand? Request granted. Immediately, he holds himself up with an elbow by your head, his other hand sliding across to intertwine with yours, and he’s peppering kisses across your cheek as he mumbles almost incoherently about cute you are. So adorable. Too adorable. You were letting him take your first time, just like that, huh? He was so happy, pinning you beneath him like this, his hand holding your trembling hand down as your dewy eyes quivered, shy. He was so happy you were his girlfriend, that you were letting him have you like this. After all, as he had decided a long time ago when he first fell in love with you, he was going to make you his bride, come hell or heaven. No other man would ever, ever get a taste of you. You were his, and only his. 

Who should I do for part 2? >:3c

[sl8yter]

3005 - Mühl

Don’t drink when you have an inexplicable yearning for your bestfriend.

Nika Muhl x Fem Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood underneath the basket in the huskies gym. Lost in a daze as a familiar Croation girl was practicing her form. Her concentration left a mark in between her eyebrows and her lips slightly pursed. You had been thinking about how tough two had first met. Starting off as roommates who would speak maybe every other day to doing everything together. When you first started talking to Nika as a friend instead of a roomie, you had acknowledged the girls very obvious beauty. The way her eyes shined when the sun hit them, how whenever she was frustrated her accent would be more pronounced in every syllable, and how she was incredible person and an even better athlete.

Your fall for her was quick and without warning as you had begun to notice the way your body would involuntarily heat up with the smallest contact. Not to mention whenever she was just a little closer to you your heart would pick up and you could hear the blood flowing within you. Without your noticing Nika had stopped when she had realized your out of touch look.

“Hey are you okay?” Concern laced throughout her words.

“Yea sorry I zoned out.” Your response not convincing her as she started her walk towards you giving you a small smile. As she walked closer to the rim, she took out her ponytail and began to talk

“Are you sure? we can go, I was practically done anyways.”

“Sorry, I’m just not feeling a hundred percent today” Not lying but not being completely honest, the feeling of boredom from just catching Nikas rebounds was starting to get to you. You also just wanted an excuse to retreat to your dorm as it was starting to get late and you had an essay due later in the week.

“It’s okay, plus I know you have that paper due soon. Can we go out after you’re done. I kinda wanna get drunk tonight.” She smiles at you with a large grin at her last few words. Her eyes comparable to a puppies.

“I dont know Niks, I kinda just wanna stay in tonight.” Your response causing her to lock you into a tight hug, she moves you side to side as she began to yell please a million times over. Her grasp unrelenting until another girl clad in a UConn practice jersey walked over.

“Twin can you like stop making out with (yn) in the gym, thanks.” Paige spoke as she peeled Nika off of your body. Your face a slight hue of pink due to the hug and Paiges statement.

“See, look at her, poor girl.” She continues to point out the spread across your cheeks. All Paige ever did was tease you about Nika. She was a very observant girl, a skill acquired from years of basketball, so she was quick to deduce that you had a major crush on Nika. Faster than you were able to in fact.

She had offered to put in good word for you and try to “gas you up” to her. But you had declined in fear of rejection. All her past relationships were with men so why would that change now was your mindset.

“Ughh, she doesnt want to go out tonight, and I wanted her-”

“Youre going out tonight. Were actually all going out tonight. I know you have major FOMO too so boom I win.” Paige quickly cuts Nika off.

“Thats actually so unfair. What time?” You ask rolling your eyes, as you can feel a small smile move its way onto your face.

“9, Nikas driving since she offered, be at my dorm by 8:30.” Paige quickly finishes as her coach, Geno, walked into the gym area. Saying her quick goodbyes as she went to follow him.

“See this is why Paige is my twin, cause she always manages to convince you to go out with me.” Nika says smiling at you as she dragged you both out of the gym.

“Thats unfair Niks you know I cant say no to group events.”

“Well thats your fault you should already know to never say no to me.”

“How toxic of you. I dont know how I manage being roommates with such an evil girl.” You joke as she unlocks her car.

“Please, you love this evil girl. I see the way you look at me.”

You scoff at her reply, internally however, your heart racing in your chest. The last few words were dancing on the line of serious and playful banter.

A sudden laugh from her eases your heart however as you look out the window searching the tree line for seemingly nothing. Missing the look she gives you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“WHO WANTS SHOTS?” A drunked Paige shouts right next to your ear as she looks over your shoulder to see a good portion of her teammates. You recoil from the loud shouting, to be honest you don’t even remember arriving.

You look around the bar in search of Nika who had been missing for the better part of the meet. You remember her saying she was going to go the bathroom. In good will you started to make your way towards the bathroom hoping she wasn’t in there dying from what felt like a couple of hundred shots Paige had made the both of you down earlier.

“Yo (yn) wait” The same blonde stops you, gripping your shoulder and harshly turning you around. The alcohol seemed to make her forget her own strength as she quickly patted the area she grasped.

“Drink this, trust me.” She said as she handing you a long shot filled with a clear alcohol.

“What is it?” You pondered familiar with the looks of it, but with Paige you wouldn’t chance it knowing how much she wanted you to confront Nika about your feelings.

“Just trust me, okay? You’ll be more open with her I promise. And if it goes south, then you can take another and you wont even remember how embarrassed you are.” She answered your question with full confidence

Taking turns looking at Paige and the shot, not knowing if it was the alcohol that you had downed earlier finally kicking in or Paiges convincing smile, you had downed the shot quickly recoiling when it had burned.

“Fuck Paige, what is this?” You ask her as your face involuntarily scrunches

“Everybody’s favorite, Everclear” she laughs as she began to push you in the direction of the bathroom. When you had finally reached the door, she had pushed you in, giving you a small smile and thumbs up before locking the door from the inside and quickly retreating. From the outside Paige had found an out of service sign and promptly put it infront of the door before heading back to her teammates table, all while giggling to herself about playing cupid.

From inside the somehow empty bathroom you heard slight hiccups and a sniffle.

“Nika? Is that you?” You ask even though you knew it couldn’t be anyone else.

A few shuffles later from the other side of the large stall, the door opens and reveals a disheveled Nika, who very obviously had too much to drink.

“Take me to yours please” She stumbled out of the stall, collapsing into your arms as she put her full weight on to you. Her body was on fire, you could feel the warmth radiating from off her, it almost felt good if she wasn’t slick with sweat. Her head rested upon your shoulder as you took her back into the big stall, you walking forward as she walked backwards to which she rose her head and looked at you confused.

“I cant right now, Paige made me drink another shot and I can feel it in my legs.” You explained, you would of drove both of you home by now if you didn’t feel a fuzziness erupting from your lower half.

Nika released a big sigh before leaning herself against the wall and sliding down to sit with her head laid back against the wall and her legs fully extended.

“Sit with me” She had demanded without even looking up

“Yea no, that floors dirty.” The alcohol had you speaking without fixing your tone as you came off a little harsh.

“I don’t care I want you to sit with me.” Nika picked her head up as it was heavy to look up at you. The way the light had hit her eyes made them shine in a way that softened you. Without a fuss, you had begun to kneel down to sit next to her without even realizing. Her smile as your back rested against the wall made the grimy floor somewhat bearable.

“You make me feel so full” Nika blurbed out. Her cheeks dusted with a sheen of pink that complimented her tan.

“Mhm, remind me not to let you drink next time we go out.” You replied jokingly, if she had said that comment earlier when you were sober you might’ve exploded on the spot. Luckily the drink had calmed your demeanor and even made you a little braver.

“Actually, you know, like when im with other people. Its different. Empty, you know. Even with people im interested in, they never make me feel the way you do.” The way she stumbled over her words tugged strings in your heart.

“Who like your ex? Obviously Niks, he was kind of an ass”

She chuckles at the thought of her past lover and your obvious distaste for him. Sure he wasn’t that horrible but he only did the bare minimum. And for some reason Nika could never explain unless she was under the influence, whenever he or anybody, would fuck up her first thought was to compare them to you.

“Yea, but everything’s different when it comes to you” She said in a hushed voice, her eyes never moving off of yours. Instinct from basketball or not you relished in her undivided attention. It made you dizzy.

“In what way?” You asked, discreetly shuffling yourself a little closer to her body.

“Fuck everybody but you.” Her response made you smile. Here you were sitting with a drunken Nika who was trying so hard to explain herself to you.

“Fuck em?” You laughed out, her sudden brazen attitude towards the world surprised you. For somebody so level headed like her, she seemed like a teenager trying to find her way.

“Fuck em” She clarified while grabbing your hand. Given, she was usually touchy with you. But it felt different this time. The warmth of her hand had lit a possibility. Taking your chance, you interlocked your fingers with hers, taking your eyes off of her for a moment to fully take in the occasion. The way her hands were mostly soft except for some calluses entranced you. You used your other hand to trace her own. Slowly you felt her slump her head on to your shoulder. Her scent was overwhelming, invading your brain until all you could think of was her and nothing else. Nika was all that mattered.

She looked at you through her eyelashes prompting you to move your head ever so slightly to lock eyes with her.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the way you could smell her perfume but the way she was looking at you in this moment was unmistakable. It was the same look Paige would use to describe you looking at her. But she had slowly sat up, she was close enough that you could feel every little exhale against your face. It was a strange feeling, it felt so weird yet so right. Maybe it was the fear of your friendship breaking that made you turn to look straight ahead. But that feeling was quickly shut down when Nika had softly grabbed the side of your face, with her non dominant hand, making you look at her. Her touch felt like fire against your skin.

“Youre so pretty” Her sudden compliment made you feel even warmer. All her actions made you float. Youre head felt dizzy as you involuntarily looked at her soft plump lips as she spoke once again. Youre throat was dry, opening your mouth to try and talk but she quickly covered your mouth before you could speak.

“I wanna be by your side, but only of you’ll have me” Her confession makes you freeze in your spot, making you quickly sober up. You had started to smell the lingering alcohol that tinged her breath. As much as you would like to accept her confession, she was drunk. You doubted she would remember what she said in the heat of the moment. As your stuck in your thoughts, you feel your head moving down and see her features getting closer.

You stick your hand in between the two of you. Making Nika place her lips against the inside of your hand.

“Youre drunk Niks, let’s talk about this in the morning.” You managed to speak, regretting your actions however as Nika quickly stood up and with glossy eyes she managed to say in a broken voice

“This is so embarrassing, can we just forget I said anything. I don’t wanna lose you as a friend” She looked at you as you followed her up, you grabbed her hands, gently rubbing her knuckles as you assured her

“No, Nika I promise you I want you too. I just cant while you’re drunk. Youre so beautiful and amazing, trust me I want to kiss you so bad, I just cant while you’re drunk. Pretty bad huh, I got an amazing woman trying to kiss me and I refuse” You quickly joke hoping to put her at ease.

She stood there for a second before a small smile appeared with an even smaller tear cascading down her round flushed cheeks.

“Super bad” She replied as she put her arms against your shoulders, leaning her forehead against yours. Swiftly, you pressed a chaste kiss against her cheek before pulling her impossibly closer and hiding your face in her brown hair.

She laughed at your child like behavior but she couldn’t complain since she had longed for a tight hug filled with compassion from you. She didn’t even know she needed it until now. She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her as she whispered in your ear.

“Take me home please. Stay with me tonight”

“Of course”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had blinked and suddenly had woken up with a familiar weight on top of you. Nika was acting like koala on your side as one of her legs lay across your belly and her arm across your front assuring her grip on you. Guessing from the fact that you both laid on the still made bed, you had both crashed as soon as you made it to Nika’s dorm.

With careful wiggling, you had managed to shimmy Nikas arm off of you as you decided to get up and try to surprise her with a good start to her day, a full breakfast. When you tried to lift her leg off of your stomach, she quickly parried by instead straddling you giving you a quick drowsy smile before leaning down to hide her face in the crook of your neck.

“Goodmorning” Her muffled voice vibrated against the skin of your neck, inadvertently making you smile.

“Goodmorning” You said while you wrapped your arms around her back, gently tracing shapes along it.

“So?” She asked

“So what”

“So wheres my kiss” She said trying to be brave but failing as you could feel her lips dance their way up your nape and to your jaw. Not even kissing, just grazing, which somehow made it feel even better.

She stopped right before she touched the corner of your lips to give a loving yet cautious look to ask for permission.

“I didn’t even get a chance to brush my teeth and you wanna kiss me. Just tell me how bad you want me Niks”

A soft giggle erupted from her as she smiled widely and slid off of your body and off of the bed. Her warmth quickly leaving you wanting for more.

“Youre right, I’ll show you after you’re done.” She said as she walked away, her body language very obviously taunting you as she left you in the empty bed.

Sitting up, you chased after her to find her with a toothbrush in her mouth and waving a new toothbrush package in the air before throwing it at you.

“Eager are we?” You tease her, she rolls her eyes at your comment before rinsing out her mouth and standing behind you as you applied toothpaste to your own toothbrush.

“Im gonna make coffee. I wanna talk more about last night” She told you before kissing your cheek and walking off.

You watched her leave in the mirror, admiring her back profile before finishing up your small task. As you walked into the open kitchen the smell of coffee beans hit your nose and one hell of a view hit your eyes. Nika was pouring 2 cups of coffee, one for you and one for her. It was something that you had seen before as you and the Croatian have had countless sleepovers but never in this context. It was something that you could definitely get use to seeing more often.

Walking up to the counter, you grabbed both mugs before heading into the living area and setting them on the coffee table in front of her couch. You turned on the TV and put on the news to a lowered volume setting for some background noise. For some odd reason you were nervous. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual. Even though you already knew what she was gonna say, she liked you. Right?

“Listen about last night.” Nika had started off as she walked around the small table to sit adjacent to you. Your legs touching as she slid closer.

“I like you, like really like you.” Her pronounced really made her accent come out stronger than usual. Her face was serious and her hands were clasped as she looked down at her mug filled with a light brown coffee. She was just as nervous as you were which put you at ease.

“I really like you too Niks. I wanna be with you too. Can I ask you something?” Her demeanor was more relaxed now as you were completely honest with her. A smile plastered across her face at the reciprocated feelings.

“Anything” She had answered

“When did you start liking me?” You had wanted to know since last night. The question was tugging at you. You had wanted to know how much time you had wasted being friends when you could have been in each others arms.

“I dont know the exact time I really realized. But I knew when I just couldnt stop thinking of you, day or night. Even in my dreams you would be there. I would compare everybody to you. You were my standard. Eventually I just realized I wanted to be with you.” She says before taking a sip of her hot drink. Her earnest tone made you go crazy. She was confessing her love for you, it wasn’t a dream, it wasn’t a delusion, it was real life and it felt so good.

“Mhm” was all you could reply with. You were afraid that if you did speak an actual word you would end up being too loud out of pure happiness.

“What about you when did you start liking me.” She had asked back. You looked down at the table for your own cup, grabbing it and watching the way the liquid would sway with every little movement.

“One day, a while back near the start of spring, I forget what I was doing but I felt sad. I felt like it should have been the two of us there. I forgot whatever I was doing, but I never forgot the feeling of missing you. I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Then when I got back to my dorm, you were there waiting for me, already watching a movie and finishing off the last of my snacks. If it were anybody else I probably would of gotten mad, but then you got up and ran to hug me and asked where I had been and at that moment I felt a warmth. Like the kind that you get when you hug somebody you care for but it was multiplied by 100” You hadnt looked at her your entire speech. You set back down the coffee without even taking a sip. You just needed the focus on something else so you could speak your mind freely. Putting your attention back on Nika you noticed a look you had seen before. The same level of concentration she had while on the court except instead of a fierceness it held a soft look. As if she was taking in every feature across your face and engraving it into her soul.

“Can I kiss you?” She had asked, you smiled at her politeness, before nodding. Without a second between she had quickly leaned forward to press her lips against yours. Slowly, you moved your lips against hers. Taking in the softness of her lips and how she tasted like coffee. Not breaking the kiss, she had sat herself onto your lap as her arms wrapped around your neck ensuring you wouldn’t be able to back out this time. Not that you would.

Your hands found her waist. Firm from constant practice and conditioning, you started to grip her sides with your hands while also pulling her forward making sure your chests were flush against each other. Nika let out a soft groan as she opened her mouth, her nose brushing against your cheek as she went to hide her face in your nape, prompting you to kiss against hers. You kissed up and down her neck, her breath had fastened and she started to get louder in your ear. Her sounds made you grip her even harder as you opened your mouth slightly, you started nipping her. Making sure to leave faint purple and red marks across it. Nika had started to slightly grind on your body, erupting a feeling deep within your stomach before a sudden alarm went off on her phone making her quickly turn around to check it.

“Fuck!” She had yelled, extremely frustrated as she had hopped off your lap.

Stunned for a moment at the fact that your guys session had comed to an abrupt end. You stood up asking her what was wrong. Following her into her room as she threw some items from the drawers into her bag.

“I forgot today was Tuesday, im so so so sorry, I have practice today. Geno will kill me if I dont show up on time” She said quickly before heading back out of the room and grabbing her keys off of the kitchen counter.

“Please please please, be here when I get back.”

“So we can..?” You asked, you wanted to joke with her so she could see the irony in the situation, that and the fact she seemed incredibly stressed out over her coach and being late to practice.

“So we can pick up where we left off obviously. You have a weird thing for getting me to say that I want you.” She laughed as she stood in the door way.

“I just love hearing you say it. Sounds good” You smiled at her, admiring the way her hair was slightly frizzy and how pretty she was even with a bare face. If she wasn’t a basketball star she could have easily been a model.

“Okay, ill make sure to tell you just how much I want you when I get back, but you gotta be here babe” She had begun to tease you back, after giving a chuckle at her remark, she stole a quick kiss from you before walking down the dorm buildings hallway.

“I’ll be here, don’t take too long Mühl” You had said down the hallway. She turned around, and suddenly started bolting down the hallway. You didn’t even have a second to react before she kissed you in front of her dorm.

“I don’t know I suddenly feel kinda sick. Im going to text Geno that im going to get the doctor to treat me. Go to the bed. Ill be there in a second.”

Without saying a word, you swiftly turned around and made your way down the dorm and turned into Nikas large room. Sitting on her bed before hearing the door close.

“Yea, im going to see a doctor sorry Coach, yea her name is Dr. (yln). I will, thanks bye.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay W ending once again. Going to write the 2nd part to this later. Maybe post it in 2-3 days. This was my longest post yet brudda.

Send in some requests pretty please. Im out of ideas and had writers block before pushing this baby out at like 1 AM 🙏.

Also W you if you got the multiple references in this fic.

[cogentsummoner]

9. First Kisses with All Might.

9. first kisses

It was beyond cliche. All Might, crushing on his pretty new secretary? It was so incredibly cliche, but he couldn't help it. You were funny, friendly, and quite possibly the most helpful person in the world. You were a godsend.

"…and this is where you describe the event in your own words," you explained, pointing at the new digital form for the hero incident reports. "I've noticed you tend to get wrapped up by this part, so I'd recommend using bullet points in a quick timeline of events."

You were so patient with both All Might and Yagi Toshinori, even after it became clear that Yagi was in way over his head and lacked any meaningful experience with this type of work.

Hell, you'd even started keeping snacks in your desks that you knew he could eat, tossing them across the office you shared playfully, making sure he ate.

You cared about him in real, tangible ways. How could he not fall for you?

"Sir?"

He jolted. "Ah! Yes! I am…totally paying attention!"

You giggled, and he grinned.

"It's okay if you wanna take a break. It is getting late, and even the Symbol of Peace needs to get a good night's rest," you said, leaning back in your chair, and inadvertently bringing your face very close to his. You either didn't mind or enjoyed the closeness, because instead of tensing up or something similar, you reached up and gently patted his cheek.

He leaned into it, humming. He didn't want to take a break. He had so little time as All Might, and every day it felt like it was slipping through his fingers more and more.

He wanted… he wanted more time with you. It was incredibly rare to have any time left in his muscle form, and to be able to just be around you, without berating himself for such a selfish use of his time.

Certainly, the two of you spent a lot of time together when he was Yagi, but… but he wanted to romance you, woo you. Yagi couldn't do that. You couldn't want him like that. He couldn't ask you to.

You were so close. He leaned in just a little bit closer, feeling your warm breath on his face. He wanted you. He wanted you so badly.

Would it really be so wrong? To try? Just- just to see if -?

He cupped your cheek; his hand was shaking minutely. You blinked owlishly at him before the prettiest blush spread across your cheeks as you realized where this was going.

You didn't move away, you didn't tense up, you didn't tell him to stop - you didn't close the distance either, but it seemed like… like you were waiting for him to make the next move.

So he did. All Might kissed you, carefully, slowly, giving you every opportunity to back away.

At first, you were motionless- then you began to kiss him back. Your lips were so soft against his, and you placed your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

It was perfect, wonderful, everything he wanted - then you sighed.

It was not a happy, contented sigh.

You broke the kiss, and the look on your face was apologetic.

All Might felt his heart sink like stone.

"Sir, it… I'm sorry. I can't," you said, so very gently, so very softly.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. God, he was such an idiot. Of course you didn't want him - why had he ever deluded himself into thinking you could?

"No, it's - I shouldn't have-" he said, haltingly. His words stuck in his throat; it felt like he might choke on them. He needed to get out of here. Get out of here and hide, from you, the world, and his own idiot yearning heart.

"Sir, please just wait-" you said as he stood up, ready to bolt. You refused to let go of his hand, squeezing it tighter. He could easily break your grip, but he'd fucked up enough tonight, and didn't want to make things worse by being rude.

"I should - I should go-" he said, his vision growing blurry. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"No, All Might. I need you to listen to me," you said, tone growing stern and hard in a way that made him freeze.

He stood still, waiting, listening. He couldn't look at you, though.

"It's not that there's no attraction there… I think you're a wonderful, kind man that anyone would be lucky to be with," you said, your words doing nothing to ease his aching heart. "It's just… I'm in love with Yagi."

His train of thought crashed, derailed and exploded; his mind came to a screeching halt.

Expression gone slack, he turned to you and croaked out, "Huh?"

"It's… I've been trying to… hint at how I feel, but…you know Yagi. He's very dense sometimes," you said, and he couldn't even disagree with you because what?

"I…hope we can remain friends, all three of us. You mean a great deal to me, All Might," you said, stepping forward and gently grabbing his other hand. "And I know that-"

"There's something I have to tell you," he interrupted, his brain suddenly back online.

The next moment, the room was filled with steam.

prompt list / accepting!

[piercedmorbid]

heyyy!

i’d love a prompt abt the reader goes to a party with charlie, kirby, robbie, jill & olivia and she gets rlly drunk. charlie has had a crush on her for YEARS so he immediately starts taking care of her and being his super shy & sweet self <33

ugh i just love him so much <3

thank u! <3

𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 … —— charlie walker 🎥.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨ pairing: charlie walker x fem!reader.

word count: 1,580

warnings / content: none! tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of alcohol, throwing up, charlie being an absolute dork, sweet lover boy yearning, a little bit of angst...

notes: I KNOW YOU SAID PROMPT BUT... i got carried away sorry... </3 thank you for this request ! so excited to write this + i hope you enjoy ... i love charlie so much my silly, silly lover boy. & maybe a part 2 ?? :0

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

his hand rested on the cool wood of the bathroom door, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as his eyes landed on you slouched against the bathtub.

"there you are."

charlie let his arm drop from the door as he approached you - your bleary eyes flicking up slowly to meet the familiar face with a dazed but welcome expression.

"charrr... hiii!" you slurred - waving at him with a soft smile - watching the way he crouched next to you with a flash of concern on his features but his usual stupidly cute lop-sided smile brushed against his lips when he saw that you were alright.

even as you were now - drunk on the bathroom floor, barely able to even form a coherent sentence without giggling - his throat suddenly felt dry... you were beautiful.

your hair was a little messy - strands sticking to your forehead and cheeks, lips still glossed and pretty from when kirby and olivia had helped you put some make-up on earlier during the night (though some of it had rubbed off on the various cups you sipped on during the party), and your outfit was gorgeous as always - hugging every single curve on your body in a way that was almost lethal and charlie had to fight every instinct in his body not to stare.

"yeah, well, just wanted to check up on you." he said. realising it sounded a little corny, a soft pink dusted his cheeks and he quickly added- "and- and, uh, robbie still won't stop flirting with olivia... it's painful to watch so i went looking for an escape."

"still?" you asked, baffled.

even before they entered the house party, robbie was planning all sorts of advances on olivia who looked nothing more than displeased at the idea and spent the entire night running away and avoiding the poor boy. charlie dramatically rubbed his temples at the thought and shook his head, "still. i mean seriously - he won't give up! kirby's too busy keeping an eye on jill to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid so i was left on babysitting duty."

honestly, you were beginning to feel a little lonely sat up here on your own but it was better than being downstairs with all the noise when you were this drunk. you hardly even remembered how you ended up this bad but you were happy that charlie was here to update you on the situation. he was always like that.

his eyes followed you wherever you went. effortlessly. you were the first thing in the room he looked for - if you weren't there, he would search for you. with you, it was easy. as easy as breathing - he could watch you, talk to you, be with you for days and still be fascinated with every little thing that you did. since the very beginning of the year, up until now, charlie had always always noticed you - starting off only as a distant admirer until he was lucky enough that you were introduced to him through jill and now he was closer to you than ever. closer to you than he had even imagined. he cherished every moment he had - no matter how small - the moment your fingers brushed slightly when you passed him a hand-out in class... or even when your eyes met for only a brief few seconds in the hallways - all of it, he recorded in his memory to replay to himself on those lonely nights in his bed, imagining the warmth of your body next to his.

he craved you so badly sometimes that it felt almost nauseous.

to feel his fingers graze the soft skin on your upper arm, tracing a line to your jaw - to feel his lips against your knuckles, your cheekbones, your forehead - to feel you curled up with your head on his chest, his fingers in your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp until sleep took the both of you peacefully in the night. sometimes, he would squeeze his pillow against him - imagining it was your soft body he was embracing and he would close his eyes and imagine the way you would look at him. one day, he told himself, one day you would look at him with that bewitching gaze and tell him that you loved him and wanted him and needed him as badly as he needed you.

but, for now, this was the best he could have.

"i... don't feel too good..." you managed to mutter out, blinking to try and clear the blur from your vision.

"huh? are you- are you okay?" his brows skewed in worry as he leaned down to watch your expression, carefully.

"yeah i- oh god."

your mind was dizzy - the lights in the bathroom were too bright and you felt your stomach churn as you quickly pressed a hand to your mouth. oh fuck.

charlie seemed to know you better than you did as he quickly reached down, his slender fingers threading through your hair and pulling it back as he ushered you carefully to the edge of the toilet. he gently pulled the loose strands at the front away from your face as you threw up in the toilet -

"oh god - i'm so sorry..." you apologised quickly in between short gasps as you felt your throat burn. "i didn't mean for you to have to babysit me as well-"

"shh, shh, shh... it's okay, i don't mind." he hummed - his free hand trailing a soft line from your shoulder to your upper back as he rubbed soothing circles against your shirt. that was the truth. charlie really didn't mind. for you, he would do anything and... being able to take care of you right now? this was all he could ask for.

"i think you drank too much," he laughed - watching as you nodded, feeling a lot better now that the alcohol was out of your system. "um.. i-... want me to.. to get you some water?" he asked.

"would you? you're so, so sweet, char. honestly..."

charlie quickly brushed off the compliment but he couldn't deny the way his heart fluttered at those words. "alright, you stay here. i'll go grab you a drink... don't move, okay?"

"don't think i can..." you teased, with a little cough as you slumped against the bath tub again.

it wasn't long before he returned with two glasses of water and sat himself down in front of you, grabbing some of the toilet roll and reaching up to wipe around your mouth - cleaning up the lipstick that smudged a little and dabbing around your eyes to clear the small tears that escaped from when you threw up. so pretty - it was unfair. nothing you did deterred him... he was so utterly obsessed and devoted to you.

"here."

he brought the glass up to your lips, the cool water calming you down as you sipped gratefully - a hand reaching up to hold the glass, placed over charlie's own hand as you closed your eyes.

he caught his bottom lip between his teeth at your touch as you finished the first glass and thanked him again -

"could you... turn the lights off? 'm sorry.. 's too bright."

"huh? oh- o-of course!" he was eager to do anything to help. he reached up and flicked the light switch, letting the warm, orange glow of the hallway shine into the bathroom. a small, maybe even a 'seflish' pang of disappointment spread in his chest when he realised he had to let go of your hand but...

you nod - feeling your head rest against his shoulder, shuffling closer to feel his warmth. you wanted to be near him, wanted to just... just get comfortable. he smelt of shampoo, cotton and a small undertone of aftershave - it felt so familiar.

he stiffened at the contact of your head on his shoulder but he couldn't help the smile that stretched on his face, his hands slowly moving up to brush some of the strands out from your face. he stayed so still afraid that if he moved, you might change your mind and pull away from him.

the feeling of being close to him was so nice - you felt so warm but ...

"thank you again... really. you're the best." you sigh - "don't know what i'd do without you..."

"it's just water," he laughed, brushing it off but ...

his chest felt warm.

this was okay. for now, this was okay.

your head was resting on his shoulder and his hand hesitantly reached towards yours - gently intertwining your fingers and when he felt you squeeze his hand, he closed his eyes to savour the feeling. he wanted to continue taking care of you - ideally, he wanted to do more for you like tuck you into bed or something but... this was okay. more than.

yes, it was just water and, yes, you're just resting your head and you're just holding his hand. but he was grateful.

his heart panged with sentiment -

you were just friends.

he knew that he would never get what he wanted. but at least, just for tonight, he got very, very close.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Five - Dark truths

You didn't sleep at all that night. You didn't leave the house all day either. You didn't even answer the door when Amelie and Jack came over to see how you were.

They knew Noah was missing. They didn't know he was dead.

When Friday came around and no one had seen you, Jack came to the house again. He pleaded with you to come and tell him what had happened. He asked where Noah was, but you didn't answer him. You didn't come out at all.

That night the show went on without you.

Lestat had been sitting in his box waiting for you to come on, but when the piano never got wheeled onto the stage, he knew he had messed up. Revealing to you what he was like that had not been what he wanted. He should have been more careful, but Noah was angering him. That meaningless man ruined your performance.

Lestat couldn't take it any more. With Noah gone you would be able to shine. Lestat would have done things differently. You were different.

The vampire didn't stick around to watch the end of the show. Your usual slot came and went and he knew you weren't going to perform tonight.

He went to your home.

I'm outside, Chéri.

Nothing.

Please let me in.

Lestat knew you were inside and he longed to see you. He wanted to hear your voice and see your face. He wanted to reach out and hold you to him. He wanted to explain things properly.

You refused to come outside.

His voice was in your head and it was pricing you crazy. How can his voice be in your head like that? Was he really a monster or were you too freaked out and messed up to comprehend anything?

You were afraid.

I know you can hear me. You have no reason to fear me. Harming you is the last thing I could ever want.

You don't believe him. He knows it too.

Lestat looks up at your window with longing. He yearns for you. He needs you. He wants you.

Please. 

The door opens. Lestat finds himself looking at you. You're a disheveled mess and he can see the fear in your eyes. He doesn't move.

“I am sorry you found out the way you did.”

“What do you mean…?” You ask cautiously.

“Me being a vampire.”

You shake your head quickly. “Vampires aren't real.”

“Oh, but we are.” He smiles at you.

You stare at him in disbelief. Was this man crazy? Oh no… you had been to his house! The house of a crazy person!

Lestat can hear your internal struggle and shakes his head. He steps a little closer. “Listen, Chéri, I am real. I am here. I want you.”

“Why? Why me?” You want to hide back inside your house, but you also want answers.

“You are… everything.”

You don't know what he means by that. Nothing is making sense to you. You can't help feeling like he's dangerous.

“I am dangerous.”

“Stop doing that! Stop… reading my mind!”

Lestat chuckles softly. “From the moment I first heard you play I knew I had to have you. You, Chéri, are everything and more. Talent like yours is hard to find in this world. It also helps you're the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes upon… Well, second to myself.” He winks at you.

He's trying to calm you down. You can tell he's telling the truth. Though you're not sure how much you can trust him.

“Do you not want a taste? To walk alongside the unknown?” He is feeding into your curiosity, luring you in. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. “How do I know you won't just kill me like you did to Noah?”

“That useless man had it coming. He was abusing your talents with his awful voice. He wanted to use you for his own gain in the hope of using your popularity at the theater to get famous. Well, anyone who truly approaches music would know he had no talent whatsoever.” Lestat scoffs.

“He really is dead…?”

“Oui.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Oh God. Oh God! What do I tell Jack?” You pull at your hair.

“Tell him nothing,” Lestat says, coming a little closer to your door. “Noah has left the country as far as anyone is concerned. He had no relatives here, no actual influence on anyone. He's gone. Let me help you soar.”

You look into his eyes. He's looking at you tenderly. You want to believe he's being genuine, but is he?

“I wrote you a song…” Is what you say.

Lestat stares at you in mild confusion and surprise. “You wrote me a song?”

“I did… I was inspired after my visit to your home… and I couldn't shake you from my head.”

He grins. “Is that so?”

You nod. “You… You're like a headache I can't shift. Even when I put you out of my mind, you return later. Your name is always on the end of my tongue. I look for you every Friday night in your box. I sit at my piano and I hope with all my might that my music is enough for you. Why do I care so much about what you think?”

Lestat smiles. “Perhaps because you know I appreciate your art.”

You look at him in wonder. “Is that the case? Or are you just saying that to make me trust you?”

He sighs. “You're making this very difficult.”

“You killed Noah!” You say a little too loudly.

Lestat covers your mouth with his hand. You groan and bite his fingers. He removes his hand and grins. “If you're into biting, I can help.”

You worry if you roll your eyes too hard they'll fall out the sockets. “I need time…”

Lestat lifts his chin up a little bit. “Very well. Time.” He steps away from your door. “But please don't take too long.” He walks away.

Once he's out of sight you close your door and lean against it.

The next Friday you return to the theater and try to ignore the stares from other performers. However, Amelie and Jack could not be ignored. You would have to face them, which was why you had come up with a story. A lie. Lying to the two people who looked after you all these years felt so wrong, but telling the truth would be worse.

They cornered you in your dressing room. Jack had a whole speech for you, telling you he was so worried and he didn't know if he needed ro contact a doctor for you. You let him speak before deciding to tell them the story you had come up with.

“Noah is gone. He left. We had a huge fight and it got out of control.”

“Did he hurt you?” Amelie asks, coming to sit beside you.

“No. Not physically anyway. Just my pride,” you assure her. There was some truth to that at least.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Jack asks, looking at you like a wounded puppy.

“It was my mess. I didn't want everyone to get involved. Noah was using me for his own advantage and I had had enough. I play solo, Jack. No more duets.” You look at him firmly.

“Understood.”

“I was so worried about you! You wouldn't even answer the door…” Amelie looks at you sadly.

“I'm sorry… I just had a lot to deal with.” You give her a hug.

Jack sighs and looks at you fondly. “I should have been more firm with him. Your sponsor hasn't made a donation since…”

“No. I suppose he hasn't. Is my slot still open?” You ask.

“Of course it is!” He assures you.

You smile. “Then I'll be back to playing for you. Tonight too soon?”

“Not at all.”

With all that out of the way the two leave you alone to get ready. You sigh deeply and prepare to face the music once more.

Lestat didn't appear in his box that night. Nor the Friday after, or the one after that. In fact, for the next 2 months he did not appear inside the theater. He did, however, send donations to Jack. He stopped sending gifts to your dressing room too.

Still, you couldn't shake him from your brain.

As you went into month 3 without seeing him or hearing from him, you had begun to miss him. If Lestat had wanted to harm you, surely he would have done so by now. He has plenty of chances to.

You decided to write him a small letter. You had it delivered to his house, not feeling brave enough to go there yourself.

You had chosen to forgive him.

Come to the theater Friday night. Your box is waiting for you.

It was all you could think to do to get him to return to you. As you stood off to the side of the stage waiting for your turn, you felt terribly nervous. You almost felt like you were struggling to breathe. You had sent Amelie out to check the boxes. She seemed to be taking her time.

You had moments to go before it was your turn. Amelie appeared beside you. “What took you so long?”

“Mr De Lioncourt invited me to talk to him. He asked me to give you this.” She holds up the rose. You stare at it, mesmerized by the deep red color of its petals. You take it from her gently.

“This is for me?”

She nods. “He told me he was happy you had asked him to come back. Did you two fight too?”

“Sort of…” You reply softly, still looking at the rose.

“Well, he's glad to hear you perform again.”

“Good. Tonight is going to be special.”

Amelie wasn't sure why it would be special, but she was just happy to see you back where you belong.

Your name is called. You take a deep breath and walk out onto the stage, rose in hand. You lift your head up, but ignore the audience. Your eyes drift up to his box. Lestat is sitting there, smiling at you.

You're wearing the necklace he gave you months ago. You're clutching the rose in your hand. You're looking at him.

Lestat knows you've forgiven him.

You take a seat at your piano and place the rose down where normally the music sheets would go, but you don't need them. You're only going to play one song tonight.

His song.

You begin. Lestat's ears are blessed with a melody new to him. An arrangement he has never heard before. He doesn't need to read your mind to know this is the song you wrote for him.

He's completely enamored with you.

There's a depth to your song. Without words he can understand what you're trying to say. He knows why you wrote this piece.

You felt something that night.

Perhaps the same thing he felt for you.

He wouldn't deny it.

The music ends too soon for his liking. He watches you with keen eyes as you take a bow and exit the stage. He didn't want your music to end. Lestat rose from his seat and left the box. He had to see you.

Jack wanted to question why you only played one song, but you didn't give him time to even get the question out. You went to your dressing room and waited.

The door opened moments later. You stood from your dressing table and watched Lestat approach you. He closed the door behind him, keeping out the outside world.

“That song…” He started. “Was it for me?”

“Yes. Did you like it?”

Lestat smiled as he slowly closed the distance between you both. You felt like your breathing was too loud, that he could probably hear your heart beating too.

I can.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” He asks, grinning.

“Get in my head.”

He chuckles. “It's one of the many things I can show you.” He holds out his hand to you. It's an invitation into his life. An invitation into the night.

You take his hand.

Lestat smiles and pulls you in close. “do you trust me?”

“We'll see.”

For now, that's enough for him.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[t-a-a-1]

The Misfortunes of Honor

Summary: While being under Megatron’s mind control, Optimus was obliged to interface with you. An act he wished he had done in more complimentary circumstances. Although Optimus loves you, the aftermath of the act made the two of you become distant, making you wonder if it's time to leave Prime’s side.

A/N: 2k words. Angst, suggestive content, fluff, after glow, sexy stuff, etc.

It was too late when he came to his senses.

Although he was able to break free from Megatron’s mind control, his honor had already been tainted. Not like it was ever pure. There was too much energon on his servos to say otherwise and hypocrisy did not become him. 

But you? 

He had made many mistakes. Many of them are unforgivable. This is one of them. 

Optimus can’t look at you. Too much shame and embarrassment, yet he has to hold you in his servos. You had told him that you were hurt and unable to walk. He can tell by  the bruises in your body that you were telling the truth. Not like he didn’t believe you in the first place but they served as a reminder of the horrible acts he had committed. 

It’s not like he didn’t want to do it. In fact, he had dreamt of becoming one with you many, many times before. He craved and yearned for the day he would confess his undying love for you. 

Megatron had taken that from him. Now, he can no longer fantasize about that day. Nor longer think what your first time with him could’ve been. He is unworthy of it. Of you. Although the act had already happened … he refuses to remember such an act. Primal. Without an ounce of love in it. 

“Did it hurt?”

Optimus asks you as he enters his private quarters. No one in the hangar dared to interrupt the two of you. After tonight’s event, it was obvious that the two of you needed time alone. 

“At first but I got used to it after a while,” you say as he places you on the elevated floor where you are able to see him face to faceplate. 

You weren’t a stranger to Optimus' room. He had even put a coach for you to be comfortable. In exchange you put some flowers around and made the place look more lively. 

“(Y/N), I – I don’t know how I could ever ask you to forgive me.”

“You don’t have to. You were under Megatron’s mind control,” you have difficulty looking at his optics. Everytime you look at them, you are reminded of how much craving they had a few hours ago.  “It was the only choice.”

“Did you … Find it pleasurable?” He is usually good with words. But all sense of reason is lost whenever he talks to you. His speech becomes sparkling-like.   “Since it was your first time interfacing and well, I am unable to remember much. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t too painful for you.”

“I am not sure I can describe it. It was rough and fierce but also passionate and I think a part of you was trying to be gentle. As much as you could.”

In a conversation you two had before, you had confessed that you had never interfaced with a human before. Although you were a healthy and attractive adult individual, you found it difficult to connect with others in such a way. It wasn’t that you didn’t have opportunities before but you were uninterested or scared of the act. 

Optimus began to wonder … If you didn’t want to do it with a human, would you even want to have intimacy with a Cybertronian? He feels like an idiot. You must find him repulsive. Unattractive. A monster. Even more now that he had taken something so precious to you.

“I have tainted your honor and I would like to take responsibility if you wish me to,”

“You tainted nothing,” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Optimus, not having sex or having sex doesn’t make you a better or worse person.” 

Your heart was beating too fast, almost coming out of your chest. Hoping that Optimus won’t notice it, you grab on to your arms tightly, it will probably leave marks.

“I am glad that it was with you,” you say as Optimus distances from you, walking around the elevated floor but not too far. “Even if it was in strange circumstances. I am fine, really.”

“But I am not fine with it,” he raises his voice. Although he is trying his best to show sanity, the more he remembers the act, the more his vexation. “All of this time. Ever since I met you, all I wanted was to have a bond with you. A genuine, pure connection and Megatron took that from me. He took my home, my friends, my life and he took you.”

There wasn’t a lot of light in his private quarters. Just the light emitting from his large data-screen. His optics were also a beautiful source of illumination. Most of the time they would be comforting but his evident anger made you question yourself.

“Optimus, is ok, really,” you remember his face plate during the act. He looked almost animalistic, unable to get enough but he looked to be enjoying himself. But now you questioned it. Maybe it was your imagination playing tricks.  “Unless … Did you find our interfacing … repulsive?”

“By Primus, no,” Optimus walks back towards you, for a moment he regrets speaking without any concerns about your feelings. “It’s just that I wished we had done so in more favorable terms.”

“Favorable terms?”

“In circumstances more worthy of you,” as he spoke, his processor began to put pictures in his mind. Of all the times he fantasized about you and him. Finally together with a peaceful life. Enjoying the beauty of a tranquil Earth and a rebuilt Cybertron. He thought of the many sparklings he would have and how they would look. Their names, both human and Cybertronian. And you of course,you next to him for as long as the universe allows you to.

 “In perfect conditions, we would have interfaced after concluding the Conjunx Ritus. Then we could had spark-bonded and I would have made you mine each night after that.”

Optimus took a moment to look at you, clear confusion on your face.

“Hypothetically speaking of course,” he quickly corrected himself.  “Only if there were mutual feelings.”

“And how do you feel?” you ask him. “About me?”

His spark was beating at a frequency unknown to him. But his spark and processor were not connected by the same circuit. What his spark wanted to say could not be pronounced and his processor spoke what little sanity he had while talking to you. 

“I think … You are … adequate?”

“I see,” His words offended you and you abruptly turned around, showing your back to him.  “I am sorry I can’t be better for you. Kinda stupid on my side to believe I could ever be.”

“No,no, that’s not what I mean. I–”

His words had come to a stop as he noticed a blue liquid. Such liquid ran down from your skirt, making its way down your right leg. 

Optimus had filled you with his transmission fluid, you felt the warm liquid run down your thigh. You touch it with your fingers only to confirm your suspicions. 

“Is it possible for a human and a Cybertronian to have a child?”

“I pray to Primus that’s the case.”

“What?”

Wanting to make sure you heard right, you turn to look at him. 

“I mean, I am not certain but if that would be the case then I’ll take full responsibility. I’ll take you as my Conjunx Endura and raise our sparkling together,” he hoped his voice didn’t sound too provoking,, he didn’t scare you with his excitement. 

“If that’s what you wish, of course.”

A few seconds of silence passed in which all Optimus’s processor could think of  were begging words.

“Say yes, say yes, say yes. Please. Please.”

On the other hand, you weren’t entirely sure what he meant as he used vocabulary unknown to you. You were also more concentrated on looking for something to clean yourself with. 

“I don’t know, I-”

“What is a Conjunx Endura? What if it means pet?”

“Only in the case you are with a sparkling! I wouldn’t dare to think of spending an eternity with you otherwise.”

He lies, that’s actually the only thing he thinks about. 

“Alright, Prime, you already said you find me disgusting. You don’t have to put any more salt on the wound.”

“Salt? What wound?”

It was frustrating to you, thinking he is cute when he blinks like that.As much as you would like to be angry with him for the continuous insulting. 

“Whatever. Look, everything is fine. I’ll be fine. I am tired. My body is pretty beat up so I think I’ll go rest now,” you look down at your bare legs. Still, the fluids slowly make their way down.  Feeling swollen and full, you knew you had to take a bath and clean yourself up. “Thank you for the experience, Prime. It was very significant.” 

Walking slowly, you made your way to the stairs. He didn’t want to let the conversation end like this. He panics at the bare thought of you being displeased and him being the cause of it. 

“I am sorry,” he stops you and gets your full attention. “It’s just that whenever I am in your presence, my processor seems to stop working.”

“... Am I that bad?”

Moving his helm from side to side, he can’t find words. He is usually eloquent and well spoken but all his being short-circuits. He can’t do it. As much as his spark begs him to confess, he rationally tells him to do otherwise. 

“No, it’s just—”

“Optimus, we have an issue.”

It was Ratchet’s voice, calling him through his Comm-Link. He ex-vents, he presses the button close to his helm and speaks loudly.

“I’ll be there soon.”

He doesn’t know how to make you stay. The more he looks at you, the more he is silent. His pedes are almost giving up. 

Optimus takes a closer look at you. Your breathing had changed, it has become slower. A few sweat drops run down from your face, your clothes were wrinkled. He is surprised he didn’t tear them off your body before. And your hair was a bit of a mess.

Your lips were red and swollen, probably too tired of kissing his dermas. To say you were intoxicating was an understatement as your smell combined with his had become his favorite aroma. 

He curses the gods … He can’t remember much but just flashbacks. Optimus wonders if he was able to make you moan his name, our of pleasure, out of pure ecstasy and bliss–

“Don’t you have to go?”

You break his trance. 

“I’ll be back,” he says. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

“I’ll try.”

He walks away. Unknown to you, he began to fantasize again. Praying to Primus of the impossible. With the small hope that when he comes back, he will find you on his berth. Ready to be taken by him once again.

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A/N: Sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes. And for being unable to tag you :( I tried to write this to the best of my possibilities since I didn’t understand much of the prompt. Still, I am very thankful to anon for giving me my first story request! Inbox are always open for any ideas <3

Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you expected but I am new to the Transformer fandom so I am still not comfortable enough writing smut since I don’t think I know much of the lore and terminology for it. 

Also!

I want to state that I don’t write p0rn. But I do write erotica which is a more artistic way to write s3x. So don’t expect me to write hard core stuff, it’s just not really on my brand. Not saying one is better than the other, btw. It’s just a writing preference. BUT I can definitely write hotter stuff if needed lol. 

Anyways, thank you so much for the rest and the support! I am very thankful for every comment, like and reblog. 

See you y'all in the next story!

-taa1