#its the colors n plumpness

[cat-soap-opera]

i dont know or care if grouses arent native to whatever area the warriors books are actually meant to take place in, we need more grouses in this series.

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, dad bod, mating press, protected -> unprotected, size kink, bręeding, praise, mdni.

it’s something hot about how husband! nanami just isn’t aware of how big he really is.

he’s insanely thick - easily stretching you with only just a few vast inches inviting its way in between your slippery entrance. the rubbery tip of the condom nearly snags against your gripping insides as he moves, hovering his soft weight above you. heavy, rushed pants of breath drag out from each lung as he looks down at you lovingly. just a mere glimpse of you, and he’s already ready to propose to you all over again.

“f.. fuck, sweetheart. hold on t’ me.” he’d grunt with two beefy arms held against either side of you.

curled twines of blond hair paint a nice bushy portion of his chest like a canvas. it starts near his neck before trailing further down toward his plump abdomen. nanami’s tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder, silently gasping at each veiny inch that disappears inside. “k- kento,” you moan, one of your legs hooking around his wide snapping waist. he’s hesitant before his hands pull your legs way up to your chest. “mmp- don’t stop, baby.”

“hah- promise,” he groans through clenched teeth, his jaw locking by the second. the stretch he creates was so good that it’s got nanami falling right into your chest. his body was practically akin to a pillow, and he’s squishing himself on top of you before your cunt squeezes around him. fuck- fuck- fuck- that same word chants in his empty brain, nearly slipping out a hoarse whimper at how slick you coated the entirety of his cock. “c’mon, sweetheart. open for me like ‘y always do. gooood, biiiig stretch for kento.”

but as he’s gradually bucking his unsteady hips into you while gently placing a hand on top of your tummy, the two of you are met with a loud abrupt ‘snaaap!’ sound, and nanami pauses.

literally - the condom pitifully snaps apart, ignoring gravity as the now ruined rubber tightens around his shaft. nanami’s panting in your neck as his entire body quivers over you before he mumbles out a raspy, “o.. oh.. shit.”

it’s rare for him to swear, but at that particular moment, you throbbed, impatiently chewing on the skin that lived on your bottom lip.

your bare heel rubs soothing circles around his tense back muscles as you suddenly meet his lustful gaze.

his eyes - they’re shining almost. the more you peer into his fawn, almond eyes, the more you got lost in his gentle, ardent stare.

“i- it’s okay,” you’d breathlessly mumble, feeling his dick retreat its way out of your sopping pussy. it’s a loud, sobbing ‘pshs’ sound that slops from your vocal pussy before you shakily whimper, “go raw, ken.”

“hah- dirty girl,” he’d groan, pressing three wet open-mouthed kisses against your temple. in immediate response, your body shudders underneath him as you hear as you feel him starting to shuffle.

with a single veiny hand, nanami snatches the snugly-fit condom off of his length before tossing it in the nearby trash bin. “ ‘m not sure if i’d last long…my lo- oh fuuuck.”

nanami’s dead silent.

shallow, shaky breath falls from his rose-colored lips as the v-shaped head of his blushing cock lightly taps against your slobbery cunt.

you’re so soaked, abundantly pouring from all sides as your legs remain prettily spread and folded. nanami himself couldn’t help but stare, openly gawking as he’s slowly creating a nasty full thrust.

just one-

a single thrust that’s making you both fall against each other at once. he’s laid right over your body, being careful not to crush you as he grunts at the occasional clenches of your cunt.

the best way to describe nanami was like a teddy bear, so soft ‘n round from all angles. with him having you in mating press, you’re feeling all of his weight plummet down onto you, each pound of his cock becoming deeper within every swallowing inch. it’s got you speechless, moaning continuously as a few strands of his chest hair collide against your skin.

“mmpf- s.. so big, ‘ken,” you’d moan, twisting your toes in anticipation at the raw friction.

he’s so big - even bigger without the rubber it seemed, and you gasped once you felt his soft foreskin slide its way inside. truth be told though, you’d never get used to his size no matter how many times he’s stuffed you full. your gummy convulsing walls merrily greeted nanami’s shaft as your arms wrapped around his rounded belly. “ugh- there, right fuckin’ thereee.”

“god- woman, you’re just.. huuh- askin’ for another baby,” nanami grumbles, blond brows creasing together as he tenderly rubs a wide palm in a circle around your tummy.

his dick’s thoroughly massaging through you perfectly, and he’s sucking his teeth at the natural feeling. your slickness coats him so good, and he’s still got you in the lewdest mating press with your knees shoved against your chest. “ ‘s that what you want, princess?” and as he speaks, his voice lowers, feeling your tummy anxiously tuck inward. “you’d look so pretty again all plump.”

with a look of meek, you cup his face, gently stroking a thumb over the crack of his parted, pouty lips. “mhm-” you’d nod, holding in a gasp once he presents your pussy with one vigorous thrust.

it’s sharp- and you whimper at how his cockhead slammed itself deep against your clit. as your thighs frantically shook, nanami holds them up before playfully tilting his head at your response.

“mhm?” he repeats your little mumble, a hiss nearly slipping through his clenched teeth as he pulls out before sloppily pulling back in.

the slimy squelches that followed were just the definition of wet. each dramatic-sounding squelch that yelped out between your legs had nanami on the verge of shooting blanks right then and there. not just there and there but inside you, too.

as dewdrops of sweat dribble from all sides of his head, nanami presses a sticky wet kiss against the crevice of your mouth. “use those pretty words, i wanna.. wanna hear my sloppy wife talk to me nice.”

“k— kentooo, please,” you’d whimper, writhing underneath his soft body. he’s pressed up against you, practically suffocating your body with his huggable warmth. each barreling inch he spent inside you had you drooling from the inside of your mouth. nanami hums, sneaking a kiss on your damp lips before feeling you claw a hand down his chiseled back. “hah- cum inside. f- fuck me.”

exactly at your sweet pleading words, you felt his dick throb inside of you. it’s more of a sporadic twitch, and it makes you let off a cute ‘ooooh!’

nanami slumps his head in between your sore jiggling breasts, sliding a tongue down the crack of your chest before groaning. “f.. fuck, when you ask me like that, can’t r- resist, honey,” and his voice dripped with such sensuous desire. nanami’s shaft greedily kisses its way against your pearled clit before his entire body erupts into vicious shakes.

he knew he wouldn’t last long at all - especially raw because once he’s starting to swell from the very tip, he’s gutturally groaning right between your tits. gluey golden strands of hair tickled against you as he’s cumming hard, whimpering into your chest.

nanami’s entire body quakes violently, and his thrusts switch from rhythmic to pathetically sloppy within seconds..

even still, you’re folded in such a pretty way, taking each slobbery drop that fills into your cunt deeply, and you moaned once his dripping tongue glides a path down toward your sensitive nipples. “mmph-” he’d grunt, muffling himself as he’s still dumping such a thick load.

nanami guides a hand down between your legs, smearing the back of his wedding ring against your flooding pussy. with a loud pop! your nipple wetly plops out between his lips and he holds still.

“take it, sweetheart. ‘s all for you,” nanami lowly whispers against your clammy chest, his heavy eyelids flapping shut. your warmth - it’s so balmy inside, and he’s already shuddering once his leaky tip sprinkles the final remnants of cum deep into your womb. it leaves a beautiful dry taste in his mouth, and nanami uses a thumb to spread a flap of your folds apart. “she’s s- so pretty.”

“f- fuck..” you’d suck in a airy moan, panting at the pitching faint spurts of wetness that echoes through your ears. gooey, thin torrents of cum run down the opening of your cunt as he pulls out, and you gasp once nanami suddenly flips you over.

now - you’re laid on your chest with your hips raised, ass arched up, and your neck most certainly raised.

“hah- forgive…me,” nanami throatily murmurs, using the back of his wedding ring once more to slither down your cream-coated pussy. his tone, it’s far lower this time—raspy with a bit of a smoky airiness to it.

oh- you were just an entire mess. he’s already licking his lips as he takes in the beauty of his wife’s backside, immediately feeling his sensitive dick twitch at the coarse, arching sight.

the way his cum just messily cascades down between your syrupy slit, splattering onto the silk white sheets in the process - he wanted more..

nanami hungrily rolls out his tongue before licking your pussy from top to bottom—shamelessly relishing in his bittersweet taste that soaks against his sizzling buds. the viscous mess glitters a sheeny filthy coat onto his pursed lips before he huffs, sitting back up.

with a soft little tap, you whine, feeling the familiar upturned curve of nanami’s hardened tip smack against your cum-slobbering entrance again and again..

“arch a bit more for me. atta girl, mhm- let’s.. hah- aim for triplets this time, my love..”

[meganegatari]

before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 

“holy shit.” 

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

[plussizeficchick]

Artist Boyfriend | Jungkook x Chubby!Reader

Summary; “He’s not my real boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend.” (Loosely based on the movie “Dinner in America”, and this edit.)

Warnings: Street Artist!Jungkook, public sex, P in V, panty sniffing, breeding kink, mildly jealous Jungkook, somewhat bad boy!jk? (He runs from the law).

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest when you hear someone practically fall into your flower shop. You lean your head over the oak counter, looking to see who it was. 

He had dark hair, the curls slick with sweat making them more pronounced. He was breathing heavily, and you’d be lying if you said his labored breaths weren’t causing a heat to build in your lower stomach. 

Get it together (Y/N)!

“Hey, you need some help?” Jungkook’s head jolts in the direction of your voice. You hold up your hands in mock surrender, showing that you mean no harm. 

This was bad. Really bad. Pretty soon the cops would be rounding the corner looking for “him” but there was nowhere for him to hide besides the flower shop that he accidentally stumbled into. “Uh, I-” He was at a loss for words as his eyes ran over your plump figure. 

You were fucking beautiful.

You wore an off the shoulder sundress that hugged your stomach and tits quite nicely, if he says so himself. Your thick thighs were on display, making his mouth water slightly at the thought of possibly feeling those wrapped around his head. 

“Mister?” You furrow your brows, what’s up with this guy? “Hide me.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “Huh?!” He quickly shushes you, his warm eyes softening, almost pleading with you. “Please, hide me. I’ll explain after.” You don’t know what compels you, but you end up agreeing, hiding him behind your counter, just in time for the cops to rear their heads. 

“‘Scuse us ma’am, have you seen a young man running in this direction? Black ski mask, dark clothes, the like.” You do your best to be convincing, “Yeah! Saw him run down that way, though it looked like he hopped on a bus.” You shrug. The police turn their heads just in time to see a bus leaving the stop. One tosses his hat to the ground, visibly upset, “Damn it! We had that little shit! We were so close!” You’re a bit startled at the display, eyes shifting to the fugitive that you’ve essentially housed. “Calm down, Han before you scare the poor girl.” He gestures towards you. “We’ll get him next time. Thank you for your help, miss.” You bid them farewell, and when you’re sure that they won’t be returning, you lock your door, turning over the Out For Lunch sign.

“Explain.” You say, arms folded over your chest. You may not have meant to, but the action causes your breast to accentuate, the fat practically spilling over the top. Oh to feel the sweet softness, to feel them squeezed in the palm of his hands. To fuck his dick in the middle of the soft mounds of flesh. “Hello!” You wave your hand in front of his face. Maybe this was a bad idea? “What? Oh right- sorry. Well you see I did some graffiti and let’s just say, they didn’t take too kindly to me “defacing public property” or whatever.” He brushes off, hands resting in his black jean pocket.

He was attractive, in a sort of endearingly punk sort of way. He was dressed in majority black, with pops of color from the various wristbands that he had on each wrist. Said wristbands drew attention to his hands, the few veins that ran along them and his surprisingly long fingers. What you wouldn’t give to feel them inside you. Curling up and finding that delicious spot inside you. “Hey, miss?” He snaps his fingers in front of your face, was this what he was like? It was quite… amusing.

You snap out of your reverie, an adorable pout making its way to your lips, “Don’t call me “miss”, makes me feel old.” You mutter, and Jungkook wants nothing more than to kiss your puckered lips. “Well, sorryyy,” he drags out the word as he looks down to read your nametag, “(Y/N), anyway, apparently my art is “illegal” so I kind of had to cut loose.” He clicks his tongue to emphasize his point. You size him up, “What type of graffiti?” You ask. He balks at you, it’s rare for him to find a girl interested in that kind of thing. “Huh?” “I’m pretty familiar with the scene around here, so what kind of work do you do? Tag? Blockbuster?” You prompt, and Jungkook feels himself falling for you already. 

“I- Freestyle. I freestyle, really.” He says, fumbling over his words. You run your eyes over his figure before you settle on his eyes. Cute. “You’ll have to show me your work sometime.” You tease, moving to tend to your flowers. Jungkook follows close behind, your scent of warm vanilla and lilies drawing him in. “Maybe.” He flirts back. “Say, how do you know so much about this kind of stuff anyway?” He asks, eyeing a bouquet of white roses that’d look very nice in your possession. You jolt your head to look at him, an incredulous look on your face, “What? I don’t look like I know that kind of thing?” You sass. Jungkook nearly chokes on his spit, “W-what? No! No, that’s not w-” He’s cut off by the sound of your melodic laugh, “I’m just kidding, chill out.” You say, pulling a small chuckle from him. “Ha-ha very funny.” He deadpans. You smile brightly up at him, your chubby cheeks lifting at the action. “To answer your question, Mister fugitive-” “You know if you want my name, you can just ask.” He winks. “Anyway, I’ve been in the street art scene for a while. I’m not really good at doing it, but I do have my favorite artists.” You shrug. 

Jungkook’s intrigued, eager to hear more. “Really?” Who’s your favorite?” He asks, and you’d be lying if his excitement wasn’t infectious. You giggle at his eagerness, “Well, there’s not much known about him and no one has seen him yet. According to a lot of people, he never signs his work.” “And I take it that you don’t agree.” He says. You shake your head, “There’s this group that thinks his signature is in his work and I agree. The most common letters seen in his work is JK. With the type of art he does, there’s no way that you don’t want your signature on something like that. But I also understand him not wanting to take away from the art. So why not try to find a way to sign it, while also making it part of the art?” You say, looking up at him to gauge his reaction. Jungkook feels himself nodding before he realizes, “That actually makes a lot of sense. I’ll have to see this guy’s work. I mean, if I’m going to be the top artist in your life.” He smirks. You feel your cheeks heat up, a smile unconsciously making its way to your face. “And what makes you think you’ll be my favorite?” You say, tapping a finger against your chin. Jungkook plucks one of the many white roses he was eyeing, extending it towards you. “I know so.”

— —

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to come by your flower shop regularly, always sure to buy and leave a flower with you each time he came. And it took even less time for you to start dating, the tension between the both of you too palpable to ignore.

It was an accident really. You had decided that you wanted to show your closest friend one of the most recent works of your favorite graffiti artist, practically dragging him to the mural. “Hurry uppp, slowpoke. I wanna show you my boyfriend’s work.” You suddenly feel Jungkook come to an abrupt halt. “Boyfriend? I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He says, an adorable pout making its way to his plump, pink lips. 

So cute you just want to kiss it off.

“Not my real boyfriend, silly.” You giggle at the confused, almost puppy dog look he gives you. “He’s not my actual boyfriend, he’s my artist boyfriend. I wouldn’t actually date him.” You scoff playfully, turning around to guide him into the direction you were going.

When you both finally reach your favorite artist’s work and after a while of admiring it, you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably next to you. “Are you okay? We don’t have to stay.” You reassure him. You barely have time to register him grabbing your hand and practically dragging you away from the other street artists.

He pulls you into an alley, far from prying ears and eyes and before you get the chance to ask him what happened, he presses his lips firmly against yours. “I’m JK.” He says when he finally pulls away from you. Your eyes widen to the size of saucers, all types of questions on your tongue. “I had to come with you to make sure that it was me that you were talking about and now that I know I can’t keep that part of myself away from you. Especially since I’m your “artist boyfriend”.” He says, nervously gnawing on his lip ring.

How? When did he find the time? Could he kiss you like that again?

You hadn't even realized you asked the last question aloud until you hear the slight chuckle that you’ve come to fall in love with. “Sure, but are you gonna keep my secret for me?” He asks, that sinister smirk making its way to his lips. 

Before you know it you're nodding your head, eager to feel his soft lips against yours as he runs his hands along your soft body. Fuck he never gets tired of feeling you against him. The sharp contrast of hard to soft, the way you practically melt into him.

It’s just too fucking delectable to pass up.

The tension between you both builds, the kiss gradually heating up and becoming more intense as the seconds pass. You wrap your arms around his neck just as he lifts up one of your legs to wrap around him. You both groan at the glorious friction, his clothed cock grinding against your puffy pussy making slick pool in your already sticky panties. “Please,” You mewl against his lips, the chill of his lip ring feeling tantalizing against your lips. “Please what, pretty? You gotta tell me what you want.” He breathes against your lips, the smell of his mint gum and cologne pulling you in. You whine, threats of a tantrum rearing it’s head. “Kookie, please don’t tease.” Jungkook chuckles, before slightly pulling away from you.

You reach out for him, chubby arms holding onto him for dear life, “Kook, please. Fuck me. Touch me. I need something.” You groan against him as you practically dry hump him. Jungkook decides to take pity on you and all but rips the flimsy thong you’re wearing off of you. You barely had time to register before he was shoving the piece of cloth against his nose, your scent washing over his senses. 

He quickly pockets the piece of fabric. You’re on borrowed time, it’s only a matter of time before another couple comes along for their own salacious activities and as adventurous as Jungkook is, you’re his to look at. 

He just manages to tug down his zipper and pull his semi hard cock out, before he uses your slick to coat his cock, running his dick along your wet cunt. “Fuck me, Jungkook. Fill me up. Wanna be full.” You moan into his ear. The sound of your breathy voice in his ear does something to Jungkook and without warning, he slams himself inside you to the hilt. You groan at the intrusion, never truly having got used to his size as yet. “Fuck! Yes, baby. That’s it. Give me that pussy.” Jungkook groans into your neck. He’s sucking hickies and leaving small, wet kisses along your throat and the exposed skin on your chest. You moan at the feeling, reaching up to bring his lips to yours. 

He reaches one hand up to palm at one of your tits, squeezing and molding the flesh to fit his large hand. You whimper when you feel him squeeze your nipple under your dress, causing your pussy to squeeze around him involuntarily. You both moan into each other's mouths, your pussy clenching and unclenching around the thickness of his cock each time he punches the soft, gummy spot inside you. “Cum for me.” He grunts, cock throbbing as it aches to empty itself in your womb. “Soak my fucking dick, baby. Get me nice and wet, pretty. Cause I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff you to the fucking brim.” You cry out as your orgasm washes over you, your pussy squelching as you milk his orgasm for everything it’s worth. “Cum in me. Fill me up, baby. Wanna be so full it leaks out.” You moan into his mouth, eyes locked together. It doesn’t take long, a few more thrusts and he’s spilling into you, the warmth of his seed settling deep inside your stomach.

You both take a few seconds for your highs to come down and before long, you start to giggle. “Were you jealous, Kookie?” Jungkook pulls away slightly to pout at you, lips all pretty and kiss-swollen.

“Was not.”

— —

Taglist: @xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @cherries-c0la @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @c0pkiller

[f14fun]

big mouth, big brain (!youtuber x op81) ~ part 3

synopsis: in which case y/n, a video essayist pops up on oscar's youtube feed, and he falls in love with the way she speaks and tells stories

smau + prose (2.7K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | prev ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

I was going to be on a bloody yacht.

He led me down a winding path that skirted the beach, the sound of the waves growing louder in the stillness of the night. As we walked, the anticipation built between us. I could feel the warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his grip, and it was incredibly reassuring.

"Are you serious?" I asked, a mix of disbelief and excitement in my voice. "You have a yacht?"

"Well, it's not exactly mine," he admitted with a grin. "But a friend of mine owns it, and he owes me a favor."

I laughed, shaking my head in amazement. "This night keeps getting better and better."

He chuckled softly, the sound blending with the rhythmic crash of the waves. The moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting a surreal glow around us. As we continued along the path, a soft breeze played with my hair, carrying the salty scent of the sea. Each step seemed to deepen the connection between us, making the night feel like a secret we shared.

The path curved gently, revealing a secluded cove where a sleek yacht bobbed gently in the water. Its polished hull gleamed under the moonlight, and the sight took my breath away. "Wow," I breathed, unable to tear my eyes away from the elegant vessel. It was like something out of a dream, a luxurious escape from the ordinary world.

He grinned at my reaction, clearly pleased with the effect. "Impressive, isn't it?" he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Just wait until you see the view from onboard."

Together, we descended the wooden steps leading to the dock. The yacht swayed slightly as we stepped aboard, the deck cool beneath my bare feet. Soft music played from hidden speakers, creating a soundtrack to the night's unfolding magic.

He led me to the bow, where a plush seating area awaited us. It felt like stepping into another realm, far removed from the worries of everyday life.

We stood together at the dock, looking away from the marina and towards the water that was calming rippling underneath the gaze of the shining moonlight.

My white dress swayed in the wind, my lips glossy under the moonlight, and his hand tightly wrapped around mine. Every once in a while we would sneak glances at each other, while we thought the other one wasn't looking.

Biting my lip slightly when he would look at me, I felt nervous and hot underneath his gaze. Squirming, he grabbed my chin.

"Y/N, don't do that do your lips," he trailed off, speaking softly to me as his thumb gently rubbed my chin. Looking up at him through my lashes, everything around us suddenly seemed to fade away.

"Okay-," I dwindled off, as his gaze sudden detracted from my eyes, and trailed down to my plump lips.

In that moment, he seemed to get closer. Putting my hand on his chest, I could hear his faint heartbeat get louder and pump faster. He was nervous. I, made him nervous.

He was softly exhaling, as was I. I could only hear our breaths, slowly getting faster in that moment. Oscar's head titled, and in that moment, I knew what was about to come.

Grabbing my jaw, he made direct eye contact with me. "May I kiss you, Y/N?" My heartbeat fluttered, and I swear I could feel something else beating as well.

"Of course," I softly replied. The moment I gave consent, he dove right in. Lips connecting, time seemed to stop.

One of his arms tightly gripped my waist, the other gripping my jaw as he was softly kissing me. He was so gentle, yet so passionate and loving. Groaning into my mouth as I wrapped my arms around his neck, I felt his neck muscles flex. Playing with his soft brown hair, my freshly manicured champagne-colored chrome nails gently scratched his scalp.

We kissed passionately for what seemed like hours. Though it must have been a few minutes of bliss in reality. I was the first to part, and noticed that my lip gloss and lipstick was smothered all around his lip area.

Chuckling I wiped it off and showed him the red Dior lipstick stain on my thumb that had resided on his cheek.

"Looks like I've been marked," he said, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer. "Should I be worried about leaving a trail of evidence?"

I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Depends on whether you want to be found," I teased, unable to resist the flirtatious banter that seemed to come so effortlessly between us.

He grinned, his gaze lingering on mine. "Maybe I don't mind being caught," he replied, his voice low and filled with suggestion.

I chuckled, enjoying the playful dance of words between us. "Oh, so you're admitting to being a wanted man?" I shot back, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion.

His grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Only if you're the one doing the chasing," he whispered, his voice sending a delicious shiver down my spine.

I leaned back slightly, feigning contemplation. "Hmm, I do have a knack for tracking down elusive characters," I mused, my tone teasing yet tinged with genuine interest.

He chuckled softly, the sound like music in the stillness of the early morning. "Then I suppose I'm in trouble," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

I pretended to study him with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, you did lead me down this path," I pointed out, gesturing around us at the yacht and the tranquil sea beyond. "Seems like you've left quite a trail."

He nodded, his expression turning more earnest. "It's a path I'm glad you decided to follow," he said softly, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his words. "Me too," I admitted, my gaze meeting his and holding steady. "I guess we'll just have to see where it leads."

He leaned even closer, his lips brushing against my earlobe as he whispered, "I'm hoping it leads to more moments like this."

My heart skipped a beat at his confession, the intimacy of the moment both exhilarating and comforting. "I think we're off to a pretty good start," I replied, my voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity.

Feeling even more bold, I chuckled softly, feeling a rush of playful energy between us. "I must admit, you wear it well," I said, holding up my thumb to show him the faint smudge of lipstick. "But you might want to be more careful next time."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Noted," he replied, his tone light yet tinged with a hint of flirtation. "Though I have to say, it's a small price to pay for such delightful company."

I felt a blush creep into my cheeks at his compliment, the warmth spreading through me like the first rays of morning sunlight. "Flattery will get you everywhere," I teased, unable to suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

His gaze softened, the playful glint giving way to a more sincere expression. "I mean it," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against mine. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time."

The sincerity in his voice touched me, making my heart flutter in a way I hadn't expected. "I'm glad," I replied honestly, meeting his gaze with an openness that surprised even myself. "Tonight has been... unexpected, in the best possible way."

He nodded, his fingers intertwining with mine. "Sometimes the best moments are the ones we don't plan," he mused, his tone thoughtful. "Like finding a lipstick stain on your cheek."

I laughed softly, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht's hull. "Who would have thought a little makeup mishap could lead to such a moment?" I said, shaking my head in amused disbelief.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Maybe it's a sign," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "That we're meant to leave a mark on each other's lives."

His words sent a thrill through me, the romantic notion echoing in the quiet space between us. "I like the sound of that," I admitted, feeling a sense of anticipation building between us like a rising tide.

He smiled, a softness in his eyes that made my pulse quicken. "Me too," he replied, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of my hand. "So, what do you say we continue this adventure? See where it takes us next."

I nodded, a surge of excitement and curiosity coursing through me. "I'd like that," I said earnestly, feeling a surge of gratitude for the serendipitous turn of events that brought us together on this yacht, under this moonlit sky.

As the moon held its vigil in the night sky, casting a silvery sheen over the yacht's deck, we settled into a cozy corner under a blanket. The soft glow of candles created an intimate atmosphere, illuminating the desserts before us—a plate of tiramisu and crème brûlée, their decadent aromas mingling with the salty sea air.

He poured us each a glass of champagne, the effervescent bubbles adding a touch of celebratory cheer to the serene scene. "To unexpected adventures," he toasted, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he handed me a flute.

I smiled, clinking my glass against his. "To seizing the moment," I replied, savoring the crisp taste of the champagne as it tickled my palate.

We shared the desserts, trading playful banter and lingering glances that spoke volumes in the quietude of the night. Each bite of tiramisu melted on my tongue, rich and creamy, while the crème brûlée offered a delightful contrast of smooth custard beneath a perfectly caramelized crust.

Between bites, we talked about our dreams and aspirations, our favorite travel destinations, and even our shared love for late-night escapades. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by moments of laughter and the occasional shared sigh of contentment.

"I guess we've hit the apex of the evening," he quipped, his tone teasing yet filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

I chuckled softly, enjoying the playful reference. "Well, if this is the apex, I can't wait to see what the straightaway looks like," I replied, matching his playful banter with a hint of flirtation.

He grinned, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of my hand. "Trust me, the view from the podium is even better with you by my side," he murmured, his voice low and intimate.

The warmth of his words sent a shiver down my spine, mingling with the gentle breeze that caressed our faces. The night around us seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving only the two of us in our private world aboard the yacht.

Leaning closer, our gazes locked in a silent agreement of shared desire, we savored each bite of dessert as if it were a testament to the sweetness of this moment. The occasional brush of fingertips, the soft exchange of smiles—it all spoke of a connection that went beyond mere words.

As the yacht rocked gently on the tranquil waters, I found myself drawn to him more than ever, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and anticipation. This night, filled with laughter and stolen glances, had woven a tapestry of intimacy that I never wanted to unravel.

"I'm glad you invited me," I confessed softly, breaking the silence that had settled between us like a comforting embrace.

His gaze softened, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't imagine sharing this with anyone else," he admitted, his fingers entwining with mine in a gesture that spoke volumes.

"And hey, if things go really well, I hear they offer Australian citizenship with every marriage," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned closer.

I couldn't help but laugh at his playful suggestion, feeling a surge of affection for his sense of humor. "Are you trying to bribe me with dual citizenship now?" I quipped back, a playful twinkle in my eye.

He chuckled, his fingers gently squeezing mine. "Hey, it's just a perk," he replied with mock seriousness, his smile widening into a grin that lit up his face.

I leaned closer, teasingly narrowing my eyes at him. "Well, I'll have you know, my love can't be bought with citizenship perks," I teased, my tone light but tinged with warmth.

His grin softened into a look of genuine fondness. "Good to know," he murmured, his gaze lingering on mine as if trying to capture every detail of this moment.

The night air around us seemed to hum with possibility, as if the universe itself was conspiring to weave our destinies together. I found myself drawn to him in ways I couldn't fully articulate, my heart singing with a melody that resonated with his presence.

"But if you keep feeding me dessert like this," I added with a playful wink, "you might just convince me otherwise."

He laughed softly, the sound like music to my ears. "Consider it a delicious bribe, then," he replied, his eyes sparkling with affection.

We watched as the moonlight danced on the surface of the sea, casting a spell of tranquility over us. Time slowed to a leisurely pace, allowing us to savor each moment, each stolen glance, and each shared smile.

As the clock struck midnight, marking the transition into a new day, we remained on the deck, wrapped in each other's warmth and the promise of what lay ahead.

And as we eventually bid farewell to the night, reluctant to let go of the magic we had found, I knew that this evening had woven our hearts together in a tapestry of hope and possibility.

Hand in hand, we returned to the shore, our laughter echoing against the quiet backdrop of the ocean. The night had been a gift—a testament to the beauty of chance encounters and the transformative power of shared experiences.

And as we looked towards the future, I couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement, knowing that our journey together had only just begun.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 233,152 others

yourusername: ignore the elephant in the room (twitter)

view comments

user1: alrrr, aesthetic queen

user2: not them using their own drunk paparazzi pics in their post, it's giving iconic shit

user3: I AM NEVER FORGETTING THOSE TWEETS THEY WERE FUCKING HILARIOUS GIRLLL

user4: nahhh nawt the "pls pls pls gimme ur babies"

user4: IN TEARS. 😭😭

user5: she must've been HELLA DRUNK to post those

user6: oscar too LMFAOO

user7: i know she just woke up feeling like shit, checked her phone, then wanted to kys

landonorris: those tweets...

landonorris: pr wants to talk to both of you...😭

yourusername: oh god oh god i'm in trouble

yourusername: little old me, a content creator online did the single handedly worse possible thing not to do: drunk post

oscarpiastri: LMFAO GET WRECKED🫵🏻🫵🏻

landonorris: what are you laughing about ur probably in trouble too 🫵🏼

user8: LMAOOO lando got their ass

user9: he said "check urself" before u check her

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 212,655 others

oscarpiastri: she's too cute, so i asked to be her boyfriend

view comments

yourusername: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend" 🧡🧡🤤🙌🏼😇😍🥰🥰🥰😘

user1: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user2: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user3: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user4: "can I be your boyfriend" >> "can you be my girlfriend"

user5: wow mate, you really think you're winning in life

oscarpiastri: i really am. she was doing donuts on my dick last night

yourusername: OSCAR DELETE THAT BEFORE ADMIN SEES SKSKKSKS

oscarpiastri: well... you didn't deny it

landonorris: oscar jack piastri. you are going to give admin another fucking heart attack.

mclaren: 👁️👁️🕵🏼

user6: LMAOOOO GN

this comment thread has been deleted

user7: DID YOU SEE THE DELETED COMMENT THREAD LMAO

user8: i hope someone screenshotted ts and put it on twitter lol

user9: ughhh i love them so much

landonorris: congrats guys!! mawmaw yi pawpaw 🧡🫵🏼

liked by oscarpiastri and yourusername

yourusername: can i be your girlfriend, oscar? 🧡

oscarpiastri: can i be your boyfriend, y/n? 🧡

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: ty guys for reading this fic! 😍🫶🏾

[ikkyfics]

Paint Me Yours

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: You would be the death of Dave, and honestly, he’d die happy. It was a little embarrassing how often he caught himself thinking about you—the way you smiled, brighter than the fucking Sun itself, or how you always smelled like a field of flowers. He knew he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on you.

Warnings: fluffy, language, veteran!reader/freshman!Dave(two years difference), suggestive, college au, first kiss, no use of y/n

A/N: I know that each uni has its own hazing, but here is what happened at mine - a paint bath to celebrate approval

My dear love @gingerteafairy, thank you very much for giving me this idea, I hope you like it <333

Masterlist

You would be the death of Dave, and honestly, he’d die happy. It was a little embarrassing how often he caught himself thinking about you—the way you smiled, brighter than the fucking Sun itself, or how you always smelled like a field of flowers. He knew he was doomed the moment he laid eyes on you.

It was the first day of university, and he was a little lost—okay, very lost, actually. The campus was huge, and there were so many people that the place looked like an anthill. That’s when you appeared, dazzling, and asked if he was one of the freshmen. Dave needed a second or two before he stammered out a yes, watching your smile widen before you started guiding him.

During the welcome party organized by the upperclassmen, Dave could barely take his eyes off you—off your pretty mouth. The way you smiled while answering other freshmen’s questions. At some point, your gaze landed on him—maybe you’d felt his eyes boring into you—and your lips curved into a smile. Dave looked around, unsure if that smile was actually meant for him, but then you laughed, saying goodbye to the people around you before walking toward him.

“Hi,” you greeted, that smile still wrapped around your lips. “Dave, right?”

He nodded, feeling his heart stumble, not trusting his own voice to respond. He barely noticed he’d been holding his breath when you bit your lip, and God, what wouldn’t he give to be the one to do that? They looked so soft and plump—he suspected they were sweet, too.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Dave blinked, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of your words. “Uh… yeah, sure. Everything looks great.” He wanted to slap himself. Damn it, fighting criminals was fine, but talking to a pretty girl? Impossible.

You didn’t seem to mind his lack of tact, though. In fact, you looked amused. “I’m glad,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “You’re not much of a talker, are you?”

Was it too soon to reveal that he wouldn’t shut up when it came to something he liked? Probably, but he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “Depends. I can be exhausting sometimes.”

A laugh bubbled from your lips, and he knew he could start rambling if it meant hearing that laugh again. “That’s a little hard to believe.”

Dave stared at you, lips parted in surprise. No, that definitely wasn’t flirting. Absolutely not. Or was it?

Before he could respond, you quickly changed the subject. “You should grab one of the donuts before they’re gone, you know? You’ve barely moved from that corner since you got here.”

“You, uh… noticed me?”

You paused for a moment, as if only now realizing what you’d said. But the surprise on your face was quickly replaced with a relaxed expression.

“I kind of have to. It’s part of my job as an upperclassman, you know—guiding freshmen and all that. So, have you tried one yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we need to fix that right now. Come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the table where the donuts were. You handed him one with pink frosting and colorful sprinkles, your eyes shining with anticipation. “Try it.”

He raised his hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he took the donut. Maybe he blushed under the intensity of your gaze—just maybe. When he took a bite, he closed his eyes, letting out a hum of approval. The dough was soft, and the frosting was perfect.

Your smile widened, if that was even possible. “So?”

Dave opened his eyes, finding you leaning closer to him. He drank in your image—the way the light illuminated your eyes, the soft curve of your mouth, how painfully beautiful you were. He wondered if you could hear his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

“I think it’s pretty girl—” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. “Good! Pretty good. I think it’s pretty good.”

He didn’t dare look up. What the hell was wrong with him? Christ, why couldn’t he act like a normal person?

Hearing the soft sound of your laughter, he exhaled deeply, lifting his gaze hesitantly, only to find a playful smile dancing on your pretty mouth. The weight on his shoulders lifted slightly at your reaction. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t ruined everything just yet.

“Dave,” you said, shaking your head slightly as you tried to stifle your laughter, “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Almost reflexively, a sheepish smile curved his lips. “Sometimes.”

From that first encounter, Dave Lizewski knew he was screwed.

The weeks that followed were a blur. He kept himself busy trying to adapt to his new reality, but every time he crossed paths with you on campus, it was like being struck by lightning.

You always smiled at him, asking one question or another, which Dave took forever to answer because he was too distracted admiring you. He became especially distracted when you wore those spaghetti-strap tops that highlighted your bust. Marty once jokingly told him to wipe the drool off his face while he watched you from across the hallway.

Today had been surprisingly light. There were still a few hours until sunset, and classes had ended a few minutes ago. Dave was walking among the other students in his class, heading out of the building, when he noticed the murmurs around him. He pulled out one of his earbuds, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to catch snippets of the conversation.

"Did you hear? There's a stash of paint in the lockers," someone said, and it didn’t take long for the other person to reply with a smirk, “I think today’s the day. I mean, it’s been almost a month since classes started.”

But it wasn’t until Dave reached the entrance of the building that he realized what was about to happen. The upperclassmen were gathered, and there was a dizzying amount of tempera paint in sight.

However, that wasn’t what caught his attention. You were there, radiant as always, but today you looked like you were ready to give him a heart attack. The only things covering your body were shorts and a thin top. He swallowed hard as his eyes lingered on your legs, on how soft they looked. It wasn’t hard to imagine how it would feel to settle between them. The image popped into his mind as clear as the waters of a pristine lake. You riding him, your face clouded with pleasure, the sounds you would make. The intensity of the thought made him blush, and he quickly buried his indecent ideas before they caused trouble in his pants.

You, oblivious to his thoughts, continued organizing some of the paint. The memory of your own hazing was still fresh in your mind. It had been epic—there was no other word for it. You didn’t have to think twice before agreeing to do the same for the freshmen.

Hearing the commotion, your eyes lifted just in time to catch sight of Dave. A small smile curved your lips without your permission. That was the effect he had on you, one you were definitely fighting against. He was a freshman, probably two years younger than you, and you had never been with a younger guy before.

The very thought brought a feeling of unease.

But it would be a lie to say he hadn’t been occupying your thoughts more frequently. It was hard—impossible—not to be drawn to those eyes, as bright as sapphires, and those dark curls that constantly fell over his forehead. They were adorable. How many times had your fingers itched with the urge to push them back from his handsome face?

And it wasn’t as though you didn’t know you had some effect on him. It wasn’t arrogance—Dave just wasn’t very discreet. He always blushed and seemed to struggle to find the right words. It was genuinely cute.

Without thinking, you headed toward him.

Dave didn’t notice you approaching right away. He was too busy trying to act casual, which only made him look even more awkward, staring at the ground, his earbuds now hanging around his neck. But when he finally sensed your presence, his whole body tensed, as if the air around him had turned into static electricity.

“Hi, Dave.” Your voice was soft but carried something he couldn’t quite place—a warmth that made his stomach flip with nerves—and something else he didn’t want to name.

He looked up, and seeing you so close rendered him momentarily speechless. The late afternoon sun lit up your face, highlighting every detail—the curve of your lashes, the soft shape of your lips, the delicate line of your jaw. It was impossible not to be captivated.

“Hi,” he finally managed to mumble, his voice rougher than he would’ve liked.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes locked on his with a playful glint. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He tried to smile but ended up with something awkward instead. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I mean, you just showed up out of nowhere.”

“Did I?” You laughed, and the sound seemed to echo inside him. “Or maybe you were just distracted.” Your voice lowered slightly on the last word, almost as if you were teasing him. And it worked. Dave felt his face heat up instantly.

Without hurry, you took a step closer, invading his personal space. “Are you staying for the hazing?”

He blinked, surprised, his eyebrows rising. “Hazing? Uh… I don’t know. I wasn’t planning on it.”

You raised an eyebrow, your smile turning into something that looked like a challenge. “Oh, come on, are you really going to tell me you’re not joining? It’s nothing scary, I promise.” Your voice was persuasive, carrying something that made him want to say “yes” to anything you asked.

He hesitated for a moment, but something in the way you looked at him—like you were challenging him, but with a sweetness that made him want to impress you—made him nod. “Alright. What do I have to do?”

“First,” you started, pointing to the small group of freshmen gathered a little ahead, “leave your backpack over there with the others. You won’t need it right now.”

Dave followed your gaze and saw the other freshmen dropping their bags near a makeshift bench, some already with their arms and faces painted in bright colors. They were laughing, exchanging jokes, their energy light and full of the excitement of new beginnings. Dave sighed, adjusting the strap on his shoulder before finally moving to do the same. He placed his backpack down carefully, as if the act itself carried more significance than it seemed—a small gesture of belonging.

When he came back to you, he seemed more relaxed, but you couldn’t ignore his posture. It was hard not to notice—the way his shoulders stayed square, his arms defined even without him trying to show them off. He was fit, very fit, and you found the words a little harder to get out as you tried not to make it too obvious. Still, the idea of touching him, even under the innocent pretense of the prank, made your heart beat a little faster.

“You’re going to need to take off your jacket,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady even as your heart pounded in your chest.

Dave hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, unzipping it slowly, the sound of the metal seeming louder than necessary in the silence between you. He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders with a natural ease that felt almost rehearsed, folding it carefully before setting it on a nearby bench. The white shirt underneath seemed simple at first glance, but now, with him more exposed, you noticed how perfectly it fit him—highlighting his chest and arms in a way that made it impossible to look away.

“Do I need to roll up the sleeves too?” he asked, already pulling one sleeve up to his elbow before you could respond.

You only managed to nod, pretending to be deeply focused on grabbing the paint. But it was impossible not to notice his movements—the firm way his fingers gripped the fabric, the casual way he folded each side, leaving his forearms exposed. And oh, those forearms. The muscles flexed slightly with each fold. Heat rose to your face, and you quickly lowered your eyes, forcing yourself to focus, clearing your throat.

“Green,” you blurted out suddenly, as if the words slipped out without thinking. He stopped, looking at you with a curious expression.

“What?”

“Green suits you,” you explained, gesturing toward the row of paints. Your voice came out firmer than you expected, but the truth was that having him so close was starting to mess with your ability to form complete sentences.

Dave raised an eyebrow, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. “Does it? Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to sound casual. “It just does. I’d guess you belong in Slytherin.”

He frowned, feigning indignation. “Slytherin? Are you serious?”

You laughed, enjoying the playful tone in his voice. “Yes.”

“I’m definitely a Gryffindor, for your information,” he replied, crossing his arms, though the amused curve of his lips remained. “Lions are better than snakes.”

“Oh, I see.” You laughed again, grabbing the pot of green paint and carefully opening it. “But today, you’re going to be a Slytherin, sweetheart.”

He smiled, but you could see the faint flush creeping up his ears, something that made him look even more endearing. Would he mind if his cheeks were bitten? You blinked, forcing that thought away.

“Now stay still,” you said, dipping your fingers into the cool paint. “I’ll start with your arms.”

Dave obeyed, keeping still, but you could feel his full attention on you. Your fingers touched his skin, sliding carefully as you began drawing soft lines and delicate strokes along his forearm. The warm texture of his skin contrasted with the fresh paint, and you lost yourself for a moment in the simple act of tracing each curve.

He was quiet, but you could feel his breathing change—slightly heavier, as if he was aware of every touch. When you glanced up to check if he was okay, you realized he was looking too. Not at his arm, but at you.

His gaze was intense, his blue eyes fixed on your face for a few seconds before dropping, almost accidentally, to the neckline of your shirt. The movement was so quick that he blinked, shifting his focus back to his arm, but the blush rising to his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“I... uh, you’re pretty detail-oriented, huh?” he tried, his voice slightly lower than before.

You smiled, feeling the heat rise to your face too. “I like to do things properly. Now your forehead.”

He blinked, surprised. “My forehead?”

“It’s a prank, Dave,” you replied, laughing. “The arms are just the beginning. Come here.”

He tilted his head hesitantly, letting you get closer. Your fingers were covered in paint, and as you began to glide the tip along the contours of his forehead, you realized just how close you were—so close you could catch the subtle scent of his cologne, something warm and woodsy.

The silence between you grew heavy, charged with something that felt electric. Each breath seemed synchronized, every move you made met with his gaze. When you finished the drawing, your fingers lingered, still lightly brushing against his skin. It was Dave who broke the silence, laughing softly.

“Now that you're officially painted, I think you're ready to be a proper freshman,” you joked, trying to ease the tension hanging between you.

You stepped back, tilting your head to evaluate your work. He already had some green marks scattered across his arms and forehead, but somehow, he still looked surprisingly... neat. That wouldn’t last long, of course.

“Time for a picture,” you said, raising your phone. “We need to capture this ‘tidy’ phase,” you explained, stifling a laugh. “Because soon, my friend, you’ll be unrecognizable.”

He chuckled, a bit shyly, and nodded. “Alright.”

You winked, adjusting the angle of your phone. He stood there with a small, reserved smile, proudly displaying the name of his course and the university's initials, but with an ease so natural that you didn’t need to ask for anything else. “Look here,” you directed, snapping the photo. “This one’s good. Now, give me a serious face or something.”

He attempted a more serious pose, crossing his arms and furrowing his brow, but the effect was ruined when he started laughing—soft and full of life.

“You’re terrible at this, you know that?” you teased, laughing along. “Alright, last one. Just smile this time.”

He complied, and this time his smile was brighter, more carefree—something so genuine you already knew it would be your favorite. “Done. Immortalized.”

“Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” he said, still smiling.

Before you could respond, one of the upperclassmen clapped loudly to grab everyone’s attention. “Alright, freshmen! Everyone, listen up!”

Dave turned toward the voice, and you used the moment to pocket your phone, staying close as the upperclassman explained what would happen next.

“Now that you’ve all been properly christened, it’s time for the fun part of initiation. Everyone is going to form a line, holding hands, and we’re going to walk from here to the main engineering building over there,” he pointed to a building about a 15-minute walk away, “leaving a trail of paint behind us. Along the way, we’re going to throw paint at you. A lot of paint. And just so you know: if any of you freshmen try to fight back, you’ll get an extra soaking. Got it?”

The freshmen murmured their agreement, some chuckling nervously. Beside you, Dave seemed amused, his easy smile firmly in place. That was when you realized your role was about to begin: as an upperclassman, your job wasn’t just to watch—it was to dive into the colorful chaos and make sure no one got out unscathed.

You turned to him, a playful glint in your eye. “You know, Dave, I think you should take your glasses off.”

He blinked, surprised. “Take my glasses off? Why?”

“Trust me,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “The paint will get everywhere, and you don’t want to ruin the lenses.”

He hesitated, clearly unconvinced. Then, with a sigh, he slowly removed his glasses and handed them to you. “Fine. But if I trip over someone, it’s your fault.”

You laughed, holding the glasses carefully. “I’ll guide you, don’t worry. Can you still see anything?” Your voice came out softer than you intended, almost with genuine concern.

Dave tilted his head, that small smile appearing again. “I think I can... enough to know you’re still there.”

Your laugh was a bit nervous, but you covered it by glancing away. “Well, that’s enough.”

He laughed too, that light sound contagious. And before you could respond, the upperclassmen started moving, organizing the freshmen into a line. “Take good care of those,” he said, pointing to his glasses. “I’m trusting you.”

“You can trust me,” you replied, waving the glasses before stepping away.

Dave joined the line of freshmen, falling into place among them. You watched as he took the hands of two other students, looking both relaxed and a little eager. The upperclassmen began circling the group, armed with bottles and squirt guns filled with colorful paint.

“Alright, everyone!” one of the upperclassmen yelled, a mischievous grin on his face. “No mercy!”

You grabbed your improvised weapon—a bottle filled with vibrant blue paint—and walked alongside the freshmen, your eyes inevitably searching for him in the crowd. It wasn’t hard to find him; it was as if your eyes were drawn to him naturally. His smile was still there, as if he was genuinely enjoying the impending chaos.

Music started playing—something upbeat and lively from a portable speaker someone had brought. It was the perfect soundtrack for the moment, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the energetic rhythm set the tone.

As the group began to move, the upperclassmen launched their attack. Paint flew in every direction, splattering onto laughing freshmen who tried—and failed—to dodge the colorful assault. You aimed for Dave, squeezing your bottle and hitting him square on the shoulder. He stopped, pretending to look offended as he laughed.

“You did that on purpose!” he accused, pointing at you, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Of course I did!” you shot back, unable to stop laughing. “What, you thought I’d spare you?”

He shook his head, still grinning, and kept walking. But you weren’t done yet. At every opportunity, you squirted more paint at him, streaking blue and green across his arms and back. Other upperclassmen joined in, but you got the sense that he was far more aware of your attacks than anyone else’s.

The soundtrack kept playing as the group moved forward slowly, everyone fully immersed in the fun. Dave, now almost unrecognizable with the amount of paint covering his hair and clothes, still seemed to be having more fun than anyone else. But amidst the chaos of colors and laughter, something glimmered in his eyes—a kind of challenge. Before you could prepare yourself, he took two quick steps toward you, his paint-covered hand reaching straight for your arm.

"Dave!" you exclaimed, trying to step back, but it was already too late.

His fingers left a streak of green paint across the light fabric of your shirt, staining it mercilessly. You froze, staring at the mark with a skeptical expression, then at him, who was unsuccessfully trying to hide his mischievous grin.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," you said, disbelief dripping from your voice. "I loved this shirt."

"Oops," he replied, with the most insincere tone of regret you’d ever heard, raising his hands in a gesture that didn’t convince anyone. "But hey, I think green suits you, too."

You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms as you glared at him. "Are you serious, Dave?"

Before he could answer, a nearby upperclassman noticed what had happened and raised their voice, laughing. "Hey, everyone! Looks like we’ve got a bold one here!"

That was enough to grab the attention of all the other upperclassmen around. In seconds, it seemed like everyone had stopped what they were doing to look at Dave, who now seemed a little less confident—but surprisingly, no less amused.

"Retaliation, huh?" someone shouted, already starting to fill a bucket with a deadly mix of paints. "This won’t go unpunished!"

You took a step back, watching the scene unfold. Dave opened his mouth to protest but didn’t have time. The first splash of paint came from the left, hitting him square on the shoulder. Then, it was as if the heavens had opened, but instead of rain, there were buckets, bottles, and tubes of paint being thrown at him from every direction. Red, blue, yellow, pink, green, purple—a whirlwind of colors determined to turn him into a walking masterpiece.

You stood there with your arms crossed, watching as the upperclassmen laughed and shouted, the background music amplifying the chaos. Dave, however, seemed… completely unfazed. He raised his hands in surrender, but the grin was still there—a wide, bright smile as if he was having way too much fun.

When an entire bucket of blue paint was dumped straight over his head, he shook his hair, sending splatters everywhere—including onto you. "Seriously, Dave?!" you complained, but the laughter in your voice betrayed the fact that you weren’t really upset.

He wiped the excess paint dripping down his forehead and looked at you through the chaos. His smile was different now, a little softer but just as captivating as before. "Worth it," he said simply, as if the storm of paint had been a small price to pay.

You sighed, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that slipped through. "You’re impossible."

He shrugged, finally extending his hands to the sides, as if accepting defeat with dignity. "Maybe. But at least I’m not the only one covered in paint now."

The group, a walking rainbow, finally reached the other building, still laughing and making comments about their utterly destroyed—but hilarious—appearances. Clothes that had once been normal were now completely unrecognizable, and many people’s hair dripped paint like oversized brushes. You couldn’t help but laugh as you noticed how Dave seemed to lead the pack of the most wrecked ones, completely covered from head to toe.

"I look like an exploded paint can," someone commented, eliciting even more laughter from the group.

The upperclassmen began organizing everyone for a group photo. "Come on, everyone! I want to see everyone squeezed in here!" one of them shouted, waving a red paint tube like a microphone.

Dave laughed beside you, leaning in to whisper, "I think there’s still time to escape."

"You’re the last person who can say that," you shot back, glancing sideways at him. He was drenched in paint, but his eyes sparkled brighter than ever, and something about the way he smiled made your stomach flip in that uncomfortable—but addicting—way.

The freshmen started lining up, bumping into each other and trying to find space in the tight group. You ended up being pushed to the front, practically pressed against Dave as he positioned himself behind you. "Looks like this is going to be pretty snug," he remarked.

"That’s the spirit of teamwork," you replied, trying to maintain your composure, though you were very aware of how close he was.

"Teamwork, huh?" he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice without even looking.

Just as the photographer positioned themselves, you felt movement right behind you, and before you could process it, Dave’s arm slid around your waist. It was a gentle touch, almost casual, but the way he did it—firm yet hesitant, as if waiting for your reaction—made your heart race.

You looked at him, surprised. “Dave…” you began, but your voice got lost amidst the chaos around you. He looked back at you, the smile still on his face, but now there was something different—an intensity in his eyes, a glimmer that seemed to say more than any words could.

“Just to make room for everyone,” he murmured, his voice rough and low. You weren’t sure if it was because of the noise or the way he seemed to look directly at you, ignoring the rest of the world entirely.

You tried to think of anything relevant to say, but your mind was a complete blur, the words tangling together as he stayed so close. The touch of his arm around your waist was a constant reminder, a warm pressure that sent shivers through your skin, even under the layer of paint covering you both.

Someone shouted, “Smile!” and you forced a grin for the camera, even though your thoughts were far from where they should be. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dave lean slightly forward, and his closeness was overwhelming. He smelled faintly of paint mixed with something uniquely him, and it was ridiculous that you were noticing that at such a moment.

When the photo was finally taken, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Dave, still with his arm around your waist, looked at you with a satisfied smile. “I think this will be a photo to remember,” he said, his voice low, and the way he looked at you almost made your knees buckle.

“I hope you’re right,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the weakness in your voice gave everything away.

As the photo group began to break apart, the laughter faded. A few freshmen tried unsuccessfully to scrub the paint out of their hair and clothes, while others seemed resigned to heading home in their messy state. You watched the scene unfold, the sound of footsteps and chatter echoing through the space. The energetic buzz of the event still lingered, but exhaustion was beginning to creep in.

Dave stood near you, a mix of tiredness and contentment on his face. He ran a hand through his hair, now stiff from the paint, and let out a soft laugh. “I think it’s going to take me two weeks in the shower to get all of this off.”

You laughed, reaching for your bag and unzipping it. “I think you’ll need more than that. But luckily, I came prepared.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, as you pulled out a small packet of wet wipes. “It’s not going to fix this entire disaster,” you said, holding it up for him, “but it’ll help with the basics. Here.”

He looked at you, his smile widening. “Are you always this prepared, or is this just for me?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re full of jokes today, huh?”

He chuckled but didn’t take the wipes from your hand. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if challenging you. “So, are you going to help me, or are you just going to stand there holding that?”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at the way he was looking at you—direct, playful, but with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Fine, but stay still and cooperate.”

He took a small step closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. Dave lowered his head slightly, making it easier for you to reach his face. Your hands were steady as you pulled out a wipe, but the same couldn’t be said for your heartbeat, which pounded wildly as you leaned in.

The first touch was light, almost hesitant, but soon you were carefully wiping away the streaks of paint from his forehead. His skin was warm under the wipe, and you could feel every tiny movement as he stayed still, his eyes fixed on you.

“Does this hurt?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

“No,” he replied, his tone rough, sending a shiver down your spine. “If anything, it’s the opposite.”

You tried to ignore the weight of his words, but it was impossible. Each second seemed to stretch the space between you. Your fingers, holding the wipe, brushed lightly against the side of his face, and he took a deep breath, as if steadying himself.

His eyes never left yours, and there was something about the vibrant blue that made you feel lost, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. “You’re all cleaned up now,” you murmured, but you didn’t step away.

“Am I?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips, as if he knew more than he was letting on. “Because I think there’s a spot here…” He pointed to his cheek, though it felt more like an excuse to keep you close.

You laughed softly but obliged, wiping the spot he indicated. “There. Happy?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and when you finally found the courage to look at him again, the smile had disappeared, replaced by something deeper. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was filled with everything that wasn’t being said.

His hand rose for a moment, almost as if it were going to touch yours, but then stopped halfway, falling back to his side. “I am. Quite a bit.”

You felt the weight of his words, the raw honesty hanging in the air like a thick, tangible cloud. That I am seemed to hold more than he was willing to say out loud. His breath was heavy, not from the physical effort of the day, but from the tension that seemed to pulse between you like a rope about to snap.

Without thinking much, as if your fingers had a life of their own, you brought a hand to his face again. His hair was messy and still wet with paint, some strands stuck to his forehead, others falling to the side, blocking your view of his eyes. “Stay still,” you murmured, almost apologetically, as you brushed the wet strands back carefully.

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if the simple touch of your fingers was enough to disarm him. When he opened his eyes again, there was something different in them, something more intense, more vulnerable.

You took a deep breath, and before you could hesitate, you began to clean the paint still staining his jawline, your fingers gliding along the strong line of his jaw. The texture of his skin under the wet wipe, warm and slightly rough, made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t control.

“Do you have any idea how much you got dirty today?” you tried to say, but your voice came out weaker than you intended.

“Maybe,” he replied, and the hoarseness in his voice made you feel the impact in your chest, like a muffled thunder. “But you seemed to be having fun.”

You chuckled softly, trying to relieve the growing tension, but it was a useless effort. Your fingers slid from his jaw to near his lips, and you hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently passing the wipe over the corner of his lips.

His eyes followed every movement of yours, and when you looked back, his gaze seemed to beg for something he didn’t have the courage to ask for. His mouth was slightly open, and his breath brushed against your fingers so tangibly that you almost felt the heat on your own skin.

“All done,” you said, but your voice sounded different now, as if it carried everything you didn’t want to admit.

“You’re not done yet,” he murmured, and the smile that played on his lips was as soft as it was dangerous.

“I am,” you replied, but your hand didn’t move. It was still there, dangerously close to his mouth, as if it were impossible to pull away.

“Are you sure?” he teased, his tone barely audible, and you knew he wasn’t talking about the paint anymore.

The silence that followed was deafening. The proximity between you was almost painful now, each inch filled with electricity that had your whole body on high alert. His eyes dropped for a moment to your mouth, and when they returned to yours, there was something there that made your heart beat so fast you thought he could hear it.

Your hand, still near his mouth, wavered for a second, and it was all he needed to take a step forward, closing the distance between you even more. His breath mixed with yours, and you knew, you knew you were on the edge of completely losing yourselves.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed, his voice a little firmer now, but still low enough for only you to hear. “And I’m tired of pretending I can.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with raw honesty that seemed to steal all the air around you. Your throat went dry, and you could feel the conflict building inside you, fighting against what already seemed inevitable.

He was younger. A freshman. And you knew you should have some sense here, some logic screaming for you to pull back, to remember the differences, the line that separated you two. But your hands were still on him, your fingers still brushing the paint-stained skin of his warm face, and you just couldn’t let go.

“Dave…” Your voice came out in a trembling whisper, carrying all that you were trying to hold back — the hesitation, the disbelief, and above all, the desire you had been trying to bury since the moment he looked at you that way, completely enchanted, for the first time.

He leaned in imperceptibly closer, his eyebrows furrowed, the intensity in his blue gaze fixed on you. “Tell me what’s holding you back,” he asked, almost pleading, but his tone was still soft, patient, as if he was trying to find his way to you.

You opened your mouth, but the words seemed to dissolve before you could even form a sentence. He waited, his proximity a temptation, and you felt as if you were being pulled toward him, against all the logic you thought you had.

“You’re…” you started, but hesitated, then took a deep breath. “You’re younger. A freshman. That…”

He laughed, low and hoarse, and shook his head slightly. "You think that matters to me?" He tilted his head, his eyes darkening with the intensity of his gaze. "I don’t care if you're older. Do you think when I look at you, that’s what I see? Because I don’t. I only see you. You, with that habit of looking at me like you’re trying to push me away, but you can’t."

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He looked so vulnerable and so certain at the same time, and that made something inside you tremble.

"I don’t know if I can do this..." you murmured, the hesitation weighing heavily in each word.

"I know you can," he shot back, his voice firmer now, but still low, almost reverent. "Because if you didn’t want to, you would have already walked away. And you’re still here."

His words hit you like a punch, because he was right. You were still here. Your hands were still on him, and the closeness between you was so small that any movement could close it.

His fingers slowly moved until they lightly brushed your wrist. It was such a subtle touch, but it electrified everything around you, as if the world had stopped to observe that moment.

"Tell me you don’t want this," he said, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking any louder would be dangerous. "Tell me you don’t feel this too, and I’ll stop now."

But you couldn’t say it. You couldn’t pull your hands away, couldn’t ignore the way he looked at you, as if you were something he didn’t know he needed until the moment he saw you.

"You don’t know what you’re asking, Dave," you murmured, but your voice came out weak, with no conviction.

"I know exactly what I’m asking," he retorted, his eyes fixed on yours, as if each word was a promise. "I’m asking for you. And I know you’re trying to find a reason for this not to happen, but there isn’t one."

And in that moment, you knew he was right. That it didn’t matter the logic, or the differences, or the doubts you were trying to hold on to. He was here, and you wanted him. God, how you wanted him.

Your gaze fell to his lips, then rose back to his eyes. He was so close that you could feel his breath, and there was something so vulnerable in his expression, so open, so surrendered, that you simply couldn’t hold back.

Without thinking any further, you closed the distance between you, your hands moving to his face as your lips met his. He responded immediately, his arms wrapping around you as if he’d been waiting for this since the moment he saw you. And maybe he had. Maybe you had too.

His lips were warm against yours, firm yet hesitant, as if he feared that it could all disappear in the blink of an eye. You felt his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer, his body pressed to yours in a way that made the whole world disappear.

His touch was both reverent and desperate, as if he didn’t know if it was real, but was determined to imprint every detail in his memory. His hands slid over the curve of your back, stopping at the base of your waist, before moving up again, his fingers brushing the exposed skin that the light fabric of your blouse didn’t protect. It was electrifying, each touch, each movement, and you felt your heart beating so hard it seemed to echo in every cell of your body.

He pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his eyes meeting yours as if searching for some kind of certainty. "Is this... real?" he murmured, his voice hoarse, cut off. He seemed lost, his blue eyes shining amidst the remnants of lilac and green paint on his face, as if you were the only thing he could see.

You laughed softly, breathless, but didn’t pull away an inch. "Yes," you answered, your voice soft but full of something you couldn’t hide anymore. "It’s real, Dave."

He let out a shaky laugh, a mixture of relief and disbelief, and then his lips were on yours again, this time more certain, hungrier. His hands moved up to your shoulders, then slowly slid down your arms, his fingers tracing the path as if he wanted to memorize every detail, every curve, every inch of skin.

"You have no idea..." he murmured against your lips, his breath hot on your face. He stopped, just enough to find your eyes again. "How much I’ve dreamed of this. Of you."

You felt the weight of his words, the intensity of his gaze, and something inside you broke and rebuilt itself all at once. "Dave..." you started, but he shook his head, interrupting.

“No,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I need you to know. From the first day. From the moment you spoke to me, from the moment you smiled at me… I knew. I knew it was you.”

Your breath faltered, and you felt his hands rise again, this time stopping at the sides of your face, his thumbs tracing the line of your jaw until they brushed the corner of your lips. He seemed so sure, so lost in you, and at the same time so fragile, as if this moment could be taken from him at any second.

“Dave…” you repeated, his name coming out as a whisper, almost a secret. You held his wrists, your fingers gently tightening against his skin. “You have no idea…”

“Tell me,” he insisted, his voice still hoarse, but laden with something so raw, so real, that it made the air around you feel heavier.

You swallowed hard but didn’t look away. “That I thought about it too. That I wanted this too. You. From the beginning.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he let out a short laugh, almost disbelieving, as he pressed his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if he needed that instant to collect himself, then whispered, “You’re messing with me, right?”

“You think I’d do that now?” you replied, the teasing in your voice mixed with the weight of the truth.

He opened his eyes, and there was something almost glowing in them, something that made you lose yourself completely. “God, you’re gonna kill me,” he murmured before pulling you in again, the kiss more intense, more urgent this time.

His hands slid down your back, tracing the curve of your hips before stopping at their base, as if he needed to hold you there, as if he feared you might slip away. You pressed even closer to him, feeling his heat, the smell of paint mixed with his scent, and nothing had ever felt so right.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he gave a small smile, his lips still red from the kiss. “So… is this it?” he asked, his voice soft but playful. “Can I stop torturing myself now?”

You laughed, your fingers still tangled in his shirt, and shook your head. “I don’t know. Maybe I like seeing you like this,” you replied, the teasing clear, but your eyes still filled with everything you were feeling.

He tilted his head to the side, a crooked, utterly charming smile playing on his lips as he looked at you. “If that means I can kiss you again, then torture me as much as you want.”

You laughed, short, still breathless, and pushed lightly against his chest, but not enough to create any real distance. His hands stayed firmly on your waist, and it was impossible to ignore the streaks of paint he’d left there—a deep blue staining the pale pink of your blouse. His fingers had drawn an impromptu map on your skin and the fabric, and you knew that, even without a mirror, it was visible.

“Look at what you’ve done,” you commented, trying to sound indignant as you looked down at your blouse, but it was impossible not to smile. “My blouse is ruined.”

Dave laughed softly, his thumbs sliding along the curve of your waist before tracing their way back, as if he wanted to emphasize the mess. “You should’ve walked away while you could.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, sure, because you would’ve let me go, right?”

He smiled wider now, his face still covered in paint, but somehow it only made him more irresistible. “Not for a second,” he confessed, with a tone that was both light and serious, like everything he did.

You shook your head, but couldn’t help the laugh, even as you tugged at the fabric of your blouse to examine the stains more closely. “And what do I do with this now? This is beyond saving, you know?”

Dave let out a dramatic sigh, pulling away just enough to look at you properly, but his hands remained firmly on your waist, as if he couldn’t help it. “Okay, I’ll admit it was a fashion crime,” he began, his eyes dropping to the stained fabric before rising back to your face. He looked so carefree and yet so intensely focused on you at the same time, it was almost unsettling. “But, look, you could… I don’t know, keep it as a keepsake.”

You raised an eyebrow again, his mischievous look signaling he had more to say. “A keepsake?”

“Yeah,” he continued, his smile growing. He raised one of his hands, covered in paint, and his thumb lightly brushed against the strap of your blouse, where a small paint stain was already printed. The touch was casual, but you felt a shiver run through you as if he had done it on purpose. “Every time you look at it, you’ll remember today. Me.”

You tried to roll your eyes, but it was impossible to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. “Oh, sure, because I’d want a ruined blouse to remember you by,” you teased, but your voice came out quieter than expected.

He tilted his face a little closer, his fingers still idly playing with the strap of your blouse, as if he were testing his own limits. “You will,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but with that sweet tone that made your heart race. “Because I know you won’t forget me, with or without the blouse.”

You let out a short laugh, trying to hide the effect his words had on you, but it was useless. “You’re really confident for a guy who’s covered in paint,” you commented, pointing to his face.

Dave laughed again, tilting his head to the side as he ran one hand across his own face, spreading even more paint without realizing. “Oh, seriously?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “And who was it that left me like this, huh?”

“You weren’t exactly trying to avoid it,” you replied, crossing your arms, but it was impossible to keep up the defensive posture with him so close, so absurdly adorable.

He took a step back, pretending to examine himself, before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, it’s pretty bad,” he admitted, pointing to the stains on his face, neck, and arms. But then he looked at you, a mischievous smile returning to his lips. “But, you know what? Totally worth it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the smile on your face betrayed any attempt to seem serious. “Really worth it?”

“Totally,” he said, giving that half-smile that seemed dangerous and irresistible at the same time. He took a step forward again, closing the distance, tilting his face until it was only inches from yours. “Wanna know why?”

You barely had time to respond before he continued, his voice low and heavy with something that made your breath falter. “Because now, I know what it’s like to kiss you.”

And with that, he smiled, so completely satisfied, so completely in love, that it was impossible to say anything. And you knew he was right: you’d never forget this. Or him.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

New Beginnings | Yandere Animal Town

You'll want to read Only Human Series | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

The smell of a hearty meal brings a warmth greater than the heavy comforter you're curled up in–-a ray of light from the open curtains beaming on your face. Your body started to rise before you fully registered that someone had to be the cause of such a heavenly scent and you were pretty sure you’d taken back all the keys from your former roommate. Slipping into your slippers and wrapping a robe around yourself you made your way down the creaky steps of your late grandmother's home. Running your fingers over the aged wooden walls, tracing the frames of the art and pictures that were still hung. It brought back memories of her entering your life, your original apprehension, and the slow realization that you loved her just as much as your grandfather. Smiling at the frame you had hung just before the staircase. 

"Morning Poppop, Mam! I made it another year without burning the place down...please wish me well."

The words spilled out earnestly devoid of the filters preparing in your head. Seeing as you had revoked Eudora's key a week earlier after the incident with your bedroom your whole being was readying to scold whoever had found themselves in your home.

"Happy New Years, Hun! Decided to start the year with a good meal. Pull up a chair and take yer time; I will warn you though you'll be having company in a few. I tried to stop them but you know how these nosy neighbors of ours tend to be."

The motherly canine hounded on about each of their pleas; all of it all too familiar. letting her voice fade into the background you tried to remind yourself that this was reality. The space connecting the kitchen room was spotless. Wooden floors glisten and windows let in clear rays of light without a speck of dirt to darken it. Your couch known for its crotchety, dusty presence was abnormally bright for its beige color, and when you pressed a finger into the cushion it plumped up as you pulled away. As if its stuffing wasn't devoured by mites. The carpet and curtains shared the same treatment, smelling of lemon cleaning products. At the center of your transformed living room were the other two canines wagging their tails happily.

"So do you like it (Y/n)?"

The small voice of Titan woke you up. Memories of when you first met the pup all teary-eyed and worried for his mother. It was a stark reminder as to why the years to come would likely never be quiet again.

" How did you guys get in? You didn't break my other door did you?" 

The child giggled before rocketing himself into your thigh. Despite this being a regular occurrence you still doubled over to nurse the bruised spot; leaving your neck perfectly exposed to tiny, grabby arms. The little hybrid hung onto you waiting for the rest of your body to accept his impromptu hug. 

"Didn't have to this time with that new mini-door I finished installing for ya!" 

Tank cheered from the floor behind the couch, popping up to reveal his typical attire of worn and tattered overalls hanging off his bulging pecks. Its single good strap hanging on for dear life over his tanned chest which was puffed up with pride as he watched you examine only his his and his brother's work.

" Thanks you guys...oh uh Happy New Year."

The family returned the saying before ushering you to your seat to eat. All of them seemed more than certain you wouldn't be alone much longer. With one sip of orange juice and three bites into your toast, you no longer were. Mama Tiffany had the decency not to groan exasperated at the knocking on the door. While you knew dog hybrids had more intense senses than humans and likely told them who exactly was at the door, you had the impression it didn't matter who it was. Just that they were interrupting a quiet New Year's Day with you.

"Darling I've brought the champagne. Since we missed each other New Years Eve i say we drink it now and finish the bottle before lunch!"

It was Eudora the cow-woman you helped get back on her feet (hooves?) rocking her usual cow-print designer brand jumpsuit with champagne wrapped in her hand and two caps of wine bottles sticking out of her matching bag.

"AHEM."

In an instant Tank and Tiffany were behind you. Arms crossed and sporting a sneer, one hidden well and one not, Eudora was forced to realize she wasn't your only visitor. 

"Fine. I'll share but I'm not going to like it."

Tiffany hummed," Sorry dear but while a child is about we all can't be...under the influence."

Shrugging you had to agree. Titan for as independent and rambunctious of a child he was still one and it was in bad taste to be indulging with him so close by.

"Sorry, Dor maybe another time."

The cow-woman whined latching onto you to fake-cry into your chest. Being sure to nuzzle indulgently.

"Every time I come over you’re surrounded by that brat! How ever will we get to be alone?!"

Her dramatic plea made Tank roll his eyes, slipping around her to grab the neck of a wine bottle from her purse. Immediately jumping away she chased after the scampering dog hybrid as best as she could in her speckled pumps. Tank and Titan were snickering as they weaved around passing the bottle between the two as she struggled, slipping onto the newly shined wooden floor.

"Give that back you have no idea, how important that is!"

Above her head, Tank dangled the bottle mockingly as he chuckled.

"Oh, I don't?"

"Noo! You don't! A farmer dog would never understand the kind of luxuries I earned to get--"

"You mean you earned by selling this milk" Titan had mysteriously slid the bag off her arm rummaging through it to pull out a jar of milk with a label on top which he so dutifully began to read,"(Y/n)'s spe-speshul milk?"

Eudora blushed, gasping in horror abandoning the laughing Tank to snatch the jar from Titan's hand. Cradling it to her chest she glared at the dog boy hoping he'd shiver and tuck that tail of his. Alas he didn't. He was smiling devilishly at the cow-woman, who was too distracted by him to stop Mama Tiffany from snatching the jar from her manicured hands.

"Hm good readin' Titan," her boy proudly wags his tail. Eudora dives for the jar but misses on account of the mother canine easily dodging her and heading straight for the kitchen her victorious smile seen by only Eudora , "Anyway if you made this for (Y/n) I might as well use it to make some more french toast. What d'ya say Hon?"

"Wait—"

"Sounds good to me!"

"H-hold on!"

"Great I'll get started on 'em right away," she popped the lid open giving it a good sniff before recoiling something fierce. Tank shivered and fought the urge to gag as he picked up the scent. Titan retched and ran into your side doing his best to shove his wet little nose as deep as he could into your skin. Eudora was appalled watching Tiffany dump her creation down the sink, turning to her with a sorrowful hostile look she sighed.

"Ah that's too bad seems like this batch is spoilt. Betta check the rest of the batch if you plan to take that to market."

Eudora looked furious as though Tiffany had curdled it herself. On a warpath, she stomps over with her painted finger stabbing it into Tiffany’s chest. From where you were standing you couldn’t tell exactly but you were certain her face was contorted with an unbecoming snarl. On instinct Tank and Titan stood alert ears pinned back and the faint grumble of a growl in their throats. 

It would be best to diffuse this. Separate them both before Tiffany lost that already twitching smile and Eudora did something with her pointed finger.  Thankfully someone else has knocked on the door. 

“Ack-! Tiffany could you maybe get the door for me I’m still in my PJs?”

“Sure thing, Hun be quick now.”

She shoved Eudora out the way, shouting that ‘she was comin’’ to whoever was at the door. You had your guesses but you figured whoever it was you better be properly dressed. In your absence the guests congregated with whispers spat through their teeth. Tank was the first to speak.

“You’re disgusting, cow.”

She stuck a specific finger in his direction, that had him hurriedly cover his younger brother’s eyes. Much to Titan’s unhappiness he could hear the air whipping with some other unspoken gestures of hatred. A shame he only saw the one. 

Tiffany opened the door with a smile on her face, her nails barely chipping at the latest coat of paint on the door. At the very least this nuisance wasn’t as…troublesome. 

“Stein. A real surprise. Didn’t know you were invited to celebrate the New Year.”

The librarian snake-hybrid shuffled his feet as his hands wobbled, making an irritating clacking of the platter he brought. Tiffany shut her eyes. Couldn’t wish to scratch his hands off if she couldn’t see him.  Stein’s tail was at attention curling and twisting behind him with the nerves he was still battling. He had originally felt encouraged not only by his newly found meditation breathing but because his…group of devvotees had assured him.

“Great Stein they’ll be so happy you’re there!” They said and they promised,” Excalibur will certainly compliment you for your new scales.”

Which was what he had predicted would happen especially since he’d practiced the scenario so many times in his head. But how could this be if the one he wanted needed+ wasn’t answering the door?! Still he wasn’t too discouraged…he could tell there was someone moving upstairs; the thermal signature reminiscent of his one and only human.

“W-w-well we’d been s-speaking about plans and they said I could–”

“I’m not accusing, (Y/n)’s a real sweetheart to those decent enough.”

“I–yes they are!”

Stein happily followed Tiffany inside, unsurprised at seeing her children and the peeved cow woman. It was already confirmed by many of his devotees that they were incredibly adamant about guarding you. Of course their theories ranged from their own obsessions to their secret plots to control the world with (Y/n) as their tool. It really was absurd but Stein would never complain for he had so many slashed tires to thank them for. Those ‘little gifts’ were incredibly nice when he had extra time to speak with them.

“Hey Stein! Happy you’re here! And look at that, do you think the new shed goes nicely?”

He nodded returning the hug. The seconds spent in (Y/n)’s arms felt all so incredibly right for Stein. The small amounts of contact through clothes regrettably brought a heat he wasn’t expecting, a heat felt a sliver of when he was with them.

“Uh, are you hibernating?”

The small voice calling out to him and the silence calling for an answer. He hurriedly straightened himself out but he still couldn’t get his arms or his tail to fully un-intertwine from the human. Still he made the effort of tilting his head hovering just above his human (Y/n)’s shoulder.

“Excuse me?”

Titan sighed like children did. In the whiney strangely annoyed way they did. He’d like to have a clutch with you.

“Y’know! Are’ya fallin’ asleep on ‘em or what?”

Stein laughed joylessly. He wasn’t the best at speaking but the pinched brow of the little dog hybrid said this wasn’t an innocent question but a tempered reaction from an annoyed predator. Stein would have no way of knowing but minutes before Titan had done the best work that he could to scent his favorite human. He knew his puppy dog face and his irresistible charisma could get him so far with all these adults coming over he had to make his mark….and yet when his human returned it was gone. 

“No little one I’m just–,” Stein let himself release the human only up to their hands keeping his fingers in between their own. The only reason he could get his tail to naturally release was because he wanted to see his human’s smiling face. Stein internally swooned but settled for a warm smile,” Happy to see my friend and kindred spirit.”

Your heart warmed at the thought—’ kindred spirit.’ Half a year ago it would have been bizarre to know anyone was willing to give this human in a hybrid-only town a chance. A feeling of gratitude washes over, making your cheeks warm and your heart full. 

Here. These were your people, your friends, and despite their odd violent, creepy, invasive behavior they cared about you and are likely the reason you wouldn’t be alone from now on. 

“Happy New Year you guys! Let’s make this one count!”

Titan howled in agreement, while Tank and Tiffany cheered! Eudora let her pout cease…for long enough to crack open the champagne. With a successful poignant pop, the wooden peg shot faster than you could catch. However, there was something fast, a black shadow that whipped across Stein’s face. But looking at the hybrid’s tail it was swaying casually below him; the only thing different was the slight curl at its end almost like it was holding something—-

“(Yyyy/nnnn)!!!! The cow is making me drink this horrible adult juice.”

“NO! I’M NOT! Tiffany come get your pup before I skewer him!”

“Ah (Y/n) I–I noticed you were looking at my t-tail and I just th-thought I’d offer if you’d like to touc–”

“Shut it, worm. (Y/n) I wanted to remind you about some of the new piping I fixed for you. Just a minor fix but I can personally show you now.”

“Oh, Hon he did such a good job~ You two should check it out! But not before you give Mama’s pies a taste!”

This Year would not be quiet, not with these guys around and with many more to come. 

____________________________________________________

Sneak Peak:

Knock Knock

“More people? So soon?”

The question wasn’t for anyone in particular but you were already walking away from the squabbling hybrids at your dining table. Looking discreetly over your shoulder to see Titan successfully nip at Stein’s tail and nearly avoid its constricting, you worked hard to hold your laughter. Depending on your latest guest they might not take lightly to your troublesome attendees. Swinging the door open you realized your assessment was spot on…at least for one of your new arrivals.

“Morning (Y/n).”

“Mr. Mayor! G-glad to see you!”

You really wish you’d looked at yourself in the mirror again.

“I didn’t realize so many others were invited to this function.”

“Sorry if I was misleading, you don’t have to join if you don’t–”

“No please (Y/n). I deal with the citizens of this town every day. This will be no different.”

“Then uh welcome,” you move to the side allowing the pristine presence to grace your newly renovated living room. Watching the slight twitch of his nose you wrestled with the same feelings of anxiety when you do see it. The tell was either one of annoyance or great excitement, you could only hope it was the latter,” we were all just about to play a board game if you’d like to join.”

The mayor gave a smile over his shoulder before he claimed a seat at the table. With no time to follow up, you focused on inviting the rest of your guests.

“Look at you rolling out the red carpet for that sucker!”

“Before the both of us, the working class really is overlooked.”

You shook your head at the duo before entering the hugs their arms were already opened for. Of course, this wasn’t as simple as giving a one-armed hug to both of them at the same time. They demanded a full hug to each of them by wrenching you in their direction when you thought the hug was over. How pleasant.

“Duke, Sher welcome we haven’t started yet so we can deal you in.”

Sher smiled, his little tail likely wiggling with pride as he let himself in.

“Good you really shouldn’t have even started the New Year without me but as long as you let me win I’ll forgive you.”

You opened your mouth to correct him now, if only to avoid a tantrum later but Duke stopped you with a hand to your shoulder. With a blush he had you come closer so he could whisper–it must have something to do with eggs.

“I did bring the years first eggs with me but I didn’t want to draw attention by bringing it to the door.”

“That’s fine Duke! I’ll make an excuse so I can grab them.”

“M-maybe you should include me so that I can help it’s a lot.”

“Wow, if it’s that much you’re giving to me you must’ve had a real good New Years Party.”

Duke’s blush deepened and his dark eyes trailed away from your face; it made you wonder what exactly was so embarrassing about his ‘party’ by himself. You tried to ask only for him to shake his head again, more of his face taking on the redness originally on his cheeks. Worried he might pass out you let him stumble into your home and nervously wave at the rest of the group. With a satisfied clap of your hands and a look down the road, you were pretty sure that was it for guests willing to spend their precious New Year with the only human in town. That is until the skirting sound of rubber burning on the roads carved through the rural area with an engine obnoxiously humming the loudest it could have arrived. Unlike your friends, it had stopped on the road instead of parking on the filled driveway. Outstepped the source of too much of your grief with being harassed for simply existing—Margarine. 

Stepping out of her iconic reddish-orange car was the fox hybrid responsible for your continuously outcasted status. So naturally you were far from pleased. Nonetheless, she stepped out smiling cruelly with her camera in hand. 

“Don’t cry ape-breath, I’m just getting the first shot of the human for the new year. The papers are going to love this.”

You were going to retort, thinking about setting a hose on her or something, until you felt the presence of one of your guests at your back. One of your freakishly tall guests with his intimidatingly large pointed smile. 

“Hi there, Margory. Do we have a problem here?”

It felt good to see her scramble, waving nervously as she returned to her car. Struggling for a little while to start it, when she finally got it she sped off. Thankfully saving her other nasty remarks for later, when your house wasn’t filled with six different people who would actively tear her in half.

“Thanks Sykes!”

“No problem, I only hope you remember this kind act of mine if I ever need some extra cards in this game of ours.”

Shaking your head you closed the door and let him pull you back to a bustling table filled with all the new friends you’d made. A group who truly didn’t mind that you were the only human.

Taglist: @midnight-nightmares@xrenka@candlesworlds-blog@00hellohello00@lem-hhn@kawaii-cakes@ceramic-raven@lilyalone@asleepysouluniverse @mel-vaz @sxftiebee @staarflowerr @horror-lover-69 @stanfordswifey @butratherbutrather @24-7aroundtheclockanxious @li-ravings @librarymouses @cooldonbutt @whoreforeverythingspice

First post of the year and it's hopefully holding everyone over for this series. Thanks everyone for the response to this one. I don't know what this year holds but I've got big ideas. Thanks to everyone here and Happy New Year! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[ghostarii]

HALLUCINOGEN (LOSING YOUR MIND), KAFKA

ʚɞ blurred lines of reality and illusions, meistered by an illusory manifestation of deep desires and wanton bliss bring about an enlightenment far beyond anything holy.

WARNINGS ݈݇- fem!reader, praise, slapping, nipple play, spit, hair pulling, cunnilingus, overstimulation, implied inexperienced!reader, biblical(?) references but no explicit relation, fingering, corruption kink, kafka teasing, minors & non nb/wlw do not interact.

NOTE ݈݇- soo . . . i won’t get into where i’ve been but just know i’m going through a lot And desperately need a distraction. i’ve turned my brain off n wrote this w my pssy so if it gets crazy blame her! jus in need of som mindless horny fun 😞😞

WORD COUNT ݈݇- 3.3k

COLORFUL STROBES FLICKER WITH reckless abandon, jumping in excited juxtaposition to the smooth, dance beat that plays through the speakers. Lucidity fills the room—you’re hyper-aware yet unconscious: watching everything from an existential position and you're drunk off the omnipotence. It coats your body in this mesmerizing feel beyond comprehension. Something so shimmery and soft that you find comfort in it, yet houndingly aggressive that you're thrashed around in its throes. It only amplifies as time passes and you can't feel any fucking better.

Everything feels intense. On a molecular level, you can feel everything, and it’s a sensation that’s beyond your expectations. It's like…subhuman—or, no, rather, extraterrestrial: akin to otherworldly intensities that cannot be created nor replicated on Earth. You are somewhere else, reaching the heights beyond existence that bathe you in sweaty warmth and glittery kisses.

Not Heaven nor Nirvana, but something nameless. Something seedier and gutsy, gnarled in debauched patterns of unholiness and temptations, wrong in every right way, and bad in every good way. Where or whatever it is is uncharted but it is shared— and you’d stay here with her until it fades into nothingness.

You will stay here with her until it fades into nothingness. She is the nucleus of this illusory ecstasy-scape, and in her hands, you are guided along a path of pure, unadulterated, fantasy.

She is made up of raw vulgarity: it in its purest form as something seduces you into her proximity, begging you to bite the apple and see the light.

Just do it, it’d be so easy.

Don’t you want to taste it? The juice…the sweetness…feel the bite in your jaw?…

Put your mouth to it, let it lead you…

The voice in your head is distant yet wholly present. Almost as though it were whispering in your ear while directing your movements, pushing you deeper into the darkness. Where the light doesn't reach and the ambiguity of the following heightens is where it dwells: perfect, round, and red—shiny and plump and enticing—

Doesn't it look delicious?

It does.

Grab it, then.

It's in your hands now. Caressing it, you admire its magnificence. Soft skin, unplagued by irregularities and blemishes, rosy and inviting.

Bite it.

You lean in.

Head cocked at an opportune angle, lips parted readily, you lean forward…

A bite like a kiss…

A kiss like a bite?

Tender nibbles upon contact quickly morph into sloppy openings. Everything slops and clashes together, fighting aggressively in search of a fix. Fill that hungry, haunting void that grumbles in your stomach, aching terribly for sustenance.

You moan for it— whimpering a pathetic Please against her mouth and resting your forehead against hers. “Gimme…”

She laughs, cupping your pouty face in her palms. “Sweet girl,” she says, pecking your lips. “What do you need from me?”

Everything.

Her kisses feel like pillows all over your face. Gentle presses in a scattered manner, showering you with tender affection that blooms in your chest.

The heft that controlled your body has now morphed into feather-lightness—as though you weigh nothing and are floating across the Heavens. The colorful lights and bass-boosted music have ceased and you now reside in a dark room, illuminated by a single, dim night table lamp and ambient light leaking through crimson curtains. A bed sits beneath you, soft like clouds and cushioning you as you’re laid down on it, limbs stretched beneath her straddling.

She continues to kiss down your body, leaving your face and heading South to your neck, where her mouth latches and suckles on the skin. Your body has an immediate reaction: your eyes are fluttering closed and your hips are gyrating upwards, where your core catches her thigh and the throb that pumps through it harshens. You gasp out, grabbing the back of her head and tangling your fingers through her plum locks, pulling out the ponytail holder and letting limp curls coil down your forearm.

“You taste so good..so sweet,” she mumbles, pulling at the flimsy fabric of your top until the fabric screeches, a tear forming in the center. She continues to pull until the red garment is split in half, discarded to the side, and leaving you in your white bra. It's decorated in lace swirls and vines across the cups, peeking over in a rosette border that teases your assets. Enveloped in intricacies, you’re displayed beneath her as a decadent confection—ready to be devoured into nothingness. “I can’t get enough of you.” She says.

The silver clasp glints in her eye as it sits between your cleavage, asking for a break as your breasts hold it hostage. “May I?”

“Please,” you breathe out. At your heed, she pulls the hook apart with ease, and your boobs jump out of their confines.

She helps you shrug the material off your shoulders, soon tossing it off the side of your cloud-bed and leaving you bare from the waist up. You don't try to cower under attention. Instead, you revel in it, bathing in the rose tint she views you in and presenting yourself.

Humor is found in your actions, and she can't help but crack a smile at you. Her hand drives up from your navel and passes through the valley of your breasts to grapple around your neck. Fingers immediately press on the pressure points in your neck, making your [already] heavy eyes droop harder and your lips purse and part. You're lifted slightly off the bed, inches away from her face as she hovers over you.

“I don't know where to start,” she says, softly. “There’s so many things I want to do to you.”

“Do it all.” You lean up, chasing the distant feel of her lips. She hesitates to indulge you, going back and forth between leaning in and creating distance, leaving her in a silent push and pull where she defiantly fights the magnetism. “I'm all yours—”

“Mm mm.” She hums, shaking her head. She can't do this, she can't do you.

You nod your head, almost eagerly, chasing her lips. “Use me.”

No. She shakes her head no, leaning further back.

“Take me.” You say, following her actions.

No. I can’t.

“Ruin me.”

Her hand weakens around your neck, and you're quick to grab it, returning it to its place around your neck. Your eyes are polished and wide, wordlessly begging her for attention.

Meek squeaks slip out of your mouth as her grip returns, the pressure she applies being much tighter and more restrictive than previously. Still, your lips still find the courage to pull into a small smile, parting and making way for the whisper your voice has turned into. “Kafka,” you moan out, her name heavy on your tongue, “fuck me.”

She sits before you, sweet purplish hair framing around her pale frame, juxtaposing the deep, salacious fuschia that glares at you. An almost taunting glow emits from her as she ponders her next course of action— should she turn her mind off and act aimlessly, or should she retreat with sensibility? She's already come thus far, she’s already molded you in her palm, she's already invented a paradise for you…it is yours to defile as you please.

If you must beg her so wantonly, as though you’ll die without feeling her version of pleasure, she must forfeit the fight and succeed in the throes of ecstasy. She has been tempted.

Your wish is obliged with care. She pins you beneath her, diving back into where she left off with a searing fervor. Her lips leave stains of her red lipstick smeared across your chest, trailing streakily across the surface until she kisses around your right tit.

A line is drawn by her tongue from beneath your underboob area to your areola, pebbling the skin in her wake. Your nipples perk and harden, the left immediately becoming a target of bullying from her pinching fingers. Sharp, black almond nails cover the bud as she tweaks it harshly, immediately subduing your wince by licking over your right nipple.

Her eyes stay on your face as she enacts so, carefully dancing her tongue over and around it until she sucks it into her mouth, mimicking the suction with the pinch of her fingers. You moan out, throwing your head back and greeting the swirling sight of stars and glimmering streaks. They paint upon a blacked-out view, covering the inside of your eyelids with the visual manifestation of how you feel. Elated. Content. Pleasured. Something you've never felt before and it is…wow.

“Kaf…” you meekly whimper, unable to even say the rest of her name. Your hand presses her face closer to your chest, almost aiming to slowly ease your entire body into her mouth. It feels so fucking good— like nothing you've ever felt before and you don't want her to stop.

Your body is warm to the touch and it feels like your veins are pumping pure stardust. Her tongue swirls and loops around your nipple, slopping spit and vocal vibrations all over the sensitive bud, eliciting the sweetest broken moans from you. They're unabashed and full of weight, carrying the load of untouched desire.

How long have you been waiting for this?

Too long.

Was it worth the wait?

So, so worth it.

What do you want next?

“Touch me.” You don't even mean to say it out loud, but it slips out amongst the flurry of gasps you puff. Hips bucking desperately in search of something only to meet a sufficient source once every few thrusts. It’s not enough, you need the tingle between your legs tended to. “G-Goddammit, Kaf, please…”

She needs not another instruction, simply obliging your request with her hand making work of your pants, undoing the pesky clasps. Separating from you, she uses the opportunity to rid of her shirt, sliding her pants down her legs and kicking it all to the floor. Her hands grab at the belt loops, tugging the tight fabric slowly down your legs while maintaining eye contact.

Don’t take your eyes off me.

She doesn't even need to say it. You know it— as though it were an innate action hardwired into your very being.

You watch her intently as your pants are finally pulled off your legs, leaving the limbs angled up on her chest. Discarding your pants to the side, she runs her hands up and down your legs, kissing down the left from your ankle to your shin, to your knee, to your thigh, over to the other leg, and going back up.

“So patient..good girl. Letting me take my time with you…” she says, breathily. Kissing back down your leg, slowly positioning herself eye-level with your cunt. She licks a line from your hamstring to your panty-clad cunt, eyes still never leaving you. She kisses firmly on the wet spot that stretches over the seat of your white panties, leaving the remnants of her lipstick on the fabric in a kiss mark. You’re hot, throbbing, and soaking— primed for her demolition. “Want me here?”

You nod furiously, pushing yourself into her face. “Need you there.” You correct, hooking your fingers under the band of your underwear and awkwardly shimmying the garment off.

“Needy little thing, aren't you?” She muses, tucking her hair behind her ears. You slowly unveil yourself to her, letting the stuffy air draft over your wetness, pushing shivers down your spine. “Just waiting and waiting..oh, ‘m sorry…”

The prettiest pussy she’s ever seen awaits her attention. Eagerly beating at her, your cunt drools and shines, drowning itself in an overwhelming amount of arousal that even beads off the curve of your ass. All of this for her, only for her, because of her…Kafka might just be the luckiest woman in the universe.

She wedges herself tighter between your legs, feeling the heat that burns in you and smelling the sweetness just waiting to be swallowed. Her eyes go back up to you, catching the tears of frustration building, and her smile breaks wider.

“‘M sorry for making you wait so long.”

Spread ‘em.

You spread your legs wider to make space for her head, immediately throwing your head back when her exhale fans over your cunt.

Her tongue darts immediately toward your slobbering hole, licking up the tracks of arousal that spill down the fat of your ass. She slams her dominant hand down on your cheek, giving it a soft rub as she giggles at your wince-whimper combination. Her tongue draws looping circles around your entrance, slipping down and licking up the stray beads. She then drives it back up to your hole, pushing the muscle into your tight entrance with little force. Your eyes shoot open and you're adjusting to the new sensation, watching her intently as she creates a hard pace: in, out, in, out until she flickers the tip of her tongue over your fluttering hole and licks a flat strip halfway up through your folds before repeating.

The taste of you is already intoxicating. Unparalleled to anyone before you— you are pure and dripping raw ecstasy, lighting her body up in the wake of lightning. She can't get enough and moans into your cunt, rolling and spinning her tongue around your walls.

She hooks your right leg over her shoulder, slinking her arm beneath the limb and slithering her fingers to your neglected clit. Just hovering over the bud makes you shiver and buck into her mouth, so she takes the initiative to drive you fucking insane. Kafka must have some sort of magic touch, or she can read you like a first-grade book, because she presses down on the bud, rubbing it in a smooth back and forth. Your mind immediately short circuits and you're back on that illusory plane, feeling everything with such great intensity that you feel your orgasm building already.

Clenching around her tongue and bucking into her mouth lets Kafka know that you're about to cum. She pulls off, building up a ball of spit on her tongue and dropping it off between your folds.

Her ministrations on your clit cease as she uses her two fingers to part your labia, licking boldly between your lips and collecting a heap of sticky slick on her tongue. She hums contently, swallowing down the fluid with dramatized vocalizations and intense eye contact.

“You taste so good, baby.” She moans, sliding her left hand into her panties. She begins touching herself, grinding on her hand while licking the taste of you off her lips. “Want you to cum in my mouth, okay? Make..a big mess for me,”

She moans out so vulgarly, letting her hand on your pussy falter and tickle over your puffy clit.

It's only now that you see Kafka: untamed. This is her in her rawest form— lust-gone and hungry. Wasting no time in leaning forward and attacking your clit, sucking the bud with such eagerness that she hollows her cheeks, squeaking our obnoxious sucking sounds that bounce off the walls. The suction is so harsh that you can't help but screech, grabbing her hair and pulling the handful of locks taut against her skull.

You can tell she likes that. So you do it again, simultaneously humping into her mouth.

Be rough.

She tries to pull back but you keep her there, forcing her nose to sit atop the mound of your pussy and asphyxiating her slowly.

Be mean.

“That's it— l-like that..! F-fuck, Kaf,” you sputter, the new flickering of her tongue over your clit eliciting sharp rods of lightning to pierce all over your body. You have no control over the moans that leave your mouth because your body is so beyond itself—receiving a kind of satisfaction never experienced before and it's reveling in that, boiling itself in pure heat and pushing out creamy bubbles. “Fuck—make me cum.”

She forces her head up against the behest of your hand, gasping in a big heap of air. Her face is flushed and wet, wearing the effect your pussy leaves on her, and yet, it still earns a piercing slap that sends her head in the opposite direction.

Oh, good. That was good.

Before you can stumble out an apology, she sneers at you. “Yeah? Is that how you're feeling?”

You didn't mean to do it—you don't know what came over you— “N-no—”

“Do it again.”

Kafka’s word is absolute and you have no room to disobey. You cock your arm back and swing, slapping her with a lot less force than before.

She grabs your hand and forces it to the back of her head, and you instinctively grab onto the hair. “Remember what you do to me…” she says, sticking her fingers into her mouth and suckling on the digits. Just as she pops them out of her mouth and directs them to your pussy, she looks back up at you. “You’re in control. Make me.”

Famous last fucking words.

The next few actions are melted together in a blur of galaxies and tears, ceasing to have a tangible visual but proceeding to wreck your body into oblivion. Kafka has sucked your clit until it's swollen, pleading to be left alone but consistently the target of merciless abuse. It doesn't help that it acts as though it were a self-destruct button—every ministration rendering your body stiff and turbulent: quivering beneath rigid curlings and tightenings.

You’re coasting through the skies with her head working between your legs, sucking the taste right off your pussy until it cries some more. It is an endless cycle of overwhelming pleasure that only builds upon itself, forming into an unstable, grandeur tower of lusty goodness that threatens to come crashing down.

She licks and sucks fervently, determined to yank your orgasm from your depths and taste the purest essence of you. And you are a victim to it— pulling half of her hair into a makeshift ponytail and fucking yourself on her face, desperately chasing the epicenter of your orgasm to make it let go.

“F-fucking me s-so good, Kaf—!” You squeal, feeling your stomach bubble and tighten. “C-close!!!”

Let go.

It's too much. It's so fucking good—good Lord—

Just cum.

Rightthererightthere– “Hnngggh—just like t-that! Shit!”

She sucks so hungrily on your pussy, eating you like a rabid dog on a fresh piece of meat. Her tongue is doing this you can't even describe and the images you see as a result are skewed.

Pretty visuals of clouds raining intergalactic hearts over a foggy sky and lightning streaks of ecstasy fill your fucked up head, imitating the euphoric feeling imposed on your body. You're so close—your body twitches and your eyes cry, pleasured sobs leaving your mouth as everything good attacks you all at once.

Be a good girl. Cum.

Kafka’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she feels your floodgates break— the orgasmic wave pushing out of your pussy and all over her face. The cry that's ripped from your throat is visceral and guttural, tearing your throat to shreds and rendering you a weeping mess.

If getting eaten felt good, orgasming feels even better. It feels cosmic—irreplaceable and delectable from beginning to end. And Kafka fucks you through it, flicking her tongue through your folds and slurping up your juices with a wide smile.

Give in; let it take you.

Stuck in the heat of euphoria, you only float higher to heights uncharted, soaring freely. Light reaches out to you in fragmented rays, calling to you in the galactic darkness to follow its way.

This is goodness. Everything holy and unholy; everything sacred and desecrated; everything clean and everything dirty; a culmination of unchained, terrific bliss right in your core.

It was always there, you just needed it out of you.

Now that you have it, nothing will be the same. So long as it still exists.

[tojisth3rdwife]

⚠️nsfw/mdni⚠️

Just a Thursday Night…

cw: suggestive (for now) you’re in a poly/closed triad with Toji and Shiu. They hate each others guts most of the time but they love the fuck out of you so..common interest i suppose lol

a/n: some fic below smau

Conversations like this were typical between the three of you. Shiu and Toji acting as if they weren’t essentially best friends by default, seeing as how it was difficult for either of them to cultivate any kind of relationship in their line of work. Which was what made the relationship between the three of you work so well. How it all came about? That's probably a complex story for another day. Tonight was going to be simple. Your boyfriends were working late and usually didn't get home until even later. So you were never hard-pressed for time to prepare the evening for them.

It's close to midnight and the house you three shared was warm and cozy, the air colored with the scents of dinner cooking. Foil-wrapped potatoes baked in the oven while two skillets sizzled on the stove. One containing buttery garlic green beans and the other a thick ass porterhouse steak. On the counter, one steak rests at medium well doneness to Shiu’s liking, soon to be joined by Toji’s medium rare.

You were busy searing each side of his steak when the door chimes alerted you that the front door had been opened.

Someone was finally home.

Shiu walks in the house first ,dressed in his suit and tie, blazer tossed over his shoulder. He always smells good as hell. Like expensive leather and mixture of his woodsy cologne and a freshly lit cigarette. Like a grown ass man that works hard just to provide his baby girl with whatever she wants.

He finds you in the kitchen at the stove preparing dinner and steps up behind you to make his presence known. His touch is gentle but firm, skimming over your hips and waist, pressing his front against the curve of your back. His lips find your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple before greeting you with a deep raspy “Hey sweetheart.”. His voice is like the butter sizzling in the pan in front of you and you melt against him, turning your head to give him a proper kiss that he hums into contently with pliant lips.

“Hi baby” you’ll sneak in between kisses that become less and less chaste. You're mindlessly pressing your ass into his crotch, making him grunt sexily and tighten his hold on your waist.

“Dinners almost done” you add, sneaking a lick of his tongue with a smile.

“Mmm..Smells good…” he’ll mutter against your lips, to which you’ll tell him to go get cleaned up so he could enjoy it. He’ll then hum in acknowledgment before pecking your lips a few more times, squeezing your hips and giving your booty a healthy slap before leaving you to it. Toji usually comes in right after him, shedding his coat and sporting dark jeans and a fitted tee. Looking every bit like that bad ass boy next door that your parents forbid you from dating. He greets you in his normal Toji fashion.

You yelp at the sting of the smack he plants on your other ass cheek, but it's soothed under Toji’s hand as he rubs and kneads your plumpness.

“Sup, Mama..” he growls into the curve of your neck, his buff ass arm coming around you and slotting under your chest for a possessive back hug. Toji’s scent is an addictive amalgam of sandalwood, some sort of citrus, and his sweat from the day. Since he rode home in Shiu’s car, accents of smoke were woven into the fibers of gia clothing to mix with his natural fragrance, having its usual effect on you.

He nibbles and teases the skin of your neck until you're giggling and reaching up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

“Toji!!” You attempt to squirm away from his lips. A feeble attempt of course. He’s got you locked in place under his bear arm. After seemingly having his fill of nuzzling, Toji lifts his head and the hand resting against your ribs to turn your face towards him for a kiss that already has your head spinning. His tongue tastes of mint and Monster energy drink, which he more than likely chugged on the ride home.

It takes some effort to pull back from him, and he just keeps kissing you. The corner of your mouth. Your cheek. Your jawline. Before he can find his home in the crook of your neck again you have to elbow him in the abs gently to get his attention.

“Youre gonna make me burn the food, Toji. Quit it..” you giggle.

“Just take it off the heat then..I missed you today.” He whines,his lips moving sinuously against your skin. You gasp when his teeth graze your flesh. You were feeling dizzy with desire, your lashes fluttering at the way Toji bit into your neck and sucked hard, earning a barely muffled moan that snaps you back into reality.

“Uh uhn Toj…I gotta finish your steak. Unless you want me to overcook it..” You nudge him gently with your shoulder and he obeys with a grumpy sigh, pulling away reluctantly.

“So? Then I’ll just have to eat you instead..” he grins, his cool-toned gaze blazing into you lustfully. Before you fall into his trap again, Shiu returns to the kitchen. He’s still in his dress shirt, the top few buttons undone as he's yanking at his necktie. He opens the freezer before glancing over at the two of you tangled in a hot embrace at the stove, he sighs and rolls his eyes.

“The least you can do is wash the murder off of your body before you rub yourself all over her…” he scoffs, rummaging in the ice tray for two cubes to drop in the short-cut glass. Toji’s upper lip curls into a snarl as he glares over your head at Shiu, who is now mindlessly opening his liquor cabinet.

“The least you can do is mind your damn business..cock blockn’ ass..” Toji seethes. Shiu's tired gaze returns to Toji while he pours himself a drink.

"So it's cock blocking because Id rather you didn't get some dead man's DNA all over my girl?" he perks his brow, lifting the glass to his lips for a sip. Toji kisses his teeth. " You think I'd be all over MY girl like this without at least changing clothes? I'm not an idiot.."

At that opening, Shiu's brows lift as if he's about to disagree. He merely grunts in response instead, mumbling something snide under his breath as he posts up against the counter with his drink in hand. You didn’t catch it but Toji must have since he was bristling with you still in his possessive embrace.

“Yeah? Wanna repeat that to my face?” he drops the arm that caged you to his chest. His other arm loosens a bit as he steps around you as if he's about to approach Shiu, who of course regards Toji blankly before taking one more sip of his whiskey. When you noticed him turning to set the glass aside, your eyes widened.

"Yall don't start.." you whine, already scrambling to grasp Toji's shirt. It stretches from his torso a little when he tries to move further away from you to close the distance between him and Shiu with a sinister smirk on his face. Shiu smirks back, leaning back up from the counter to face him. There's a silent exchange of colorful language between the two men that you weren't going to let escalate. It was late and you just wanted a peaceful night in with your men. No drama. No bickering.

"OH MY GOD! ALL THIS TESTOSTERONE IN MY KITCHEN!” you blurt out, earning both of their attention. Pointing the spatula you now had in your hand, you aimed it towards Shiu with a glare. He opens his mouth but you shush him.

“Aht! Make that the last drink you get before you eat your dinner, ok? And you..” you pause to crane your neck back enough to look at Toji.

“While I do love the smell of you, if you killed someone tonight I'd prefer it if you cleaned up. Cool?”

Toji glances down at himself with the same type of furrowed brow that Shiu was now sporting when he looked into his glass. "Now I don't wanna hear anymore bitching from either one of you tonight, dammit. Its late and I’m cramping. Dinner will be ready in about 10 minutes, ok? So both of you get out of my kitchen so I can finish cooking please.”

You give them both a look, ensuring that they understand their assignments, spatula waving between them. There is a mixture of surprise and amusement in their expressions, finding your bossiness endearing considering you were the smallest person in the room. The men exchange a seething look of understanding, Shiu being the first to scoff and break eye contact before looking to you.

"Sure thing baby," he remarks warmly, picking up his glass and tossing back what was left in it before putting it back on the counter. He then approaches you, giving Toji a snarky downward scan in passing before leaning in to peck your lips. Toji rolls his eyes and huffs loudly during the affectionate exchange, knowing Shiu was just trying to push his buttons in the little ways he could without you knowing.

When he pulls away, you lick the remnants of whiskey he left on your lips with a smirk.

" Mmmhmm. Out." you wrinkle your nose at him, pushing him away playfully as he steps between you and Toji to exit the kitchen.

Leaving you with your broodiest boyfriend.

Toji was biting the inside of his cheek and watching Shiu leave with narrowed eyes, looking like he was plotting something devious when you poked him in the pec. His glare drops to you, softening a little on the way your siren eyes were drawing him in. With a lift of your brow, Toji relents.

"What?" he frowns and you smile at him sweetly, reaching up to run your thumb over the scarred corner of his mouth before speaking.

"You too, big boy. Go wash ya ass. And don't kill Shiu on your way back there please." you nod your head in the kitchen doorway's direction. At that, Toji grunts humorously as he kisses your thumb, then your forehead.

"Only 'cuz you said please.." he grumbles before trudging out of the kitchen somewhat begrudgingly.

You maintained that stone-cold expression while you admired that muscular ass back on his way out, waiting until you were alone to allow that facade to break immediately in favor of you being utterly hot and bothered.

It wasn't always like this but you swore one day things would come to blows between those two if you weren't always there to intervene. There was no reason for them to still be this competitive when it came to you. There was a clear understanding between you three that you were theirs equally and vice verse. But you had to admit that it was annoyingly sexy to see them still fussing over you though. Or maybe it was just because you were ovulating.

Either way, you were sure to be in for another long night with these two…

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 15 - Lisa Manoban x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: Sorry but here it's late and I'm very tired, so probably this is poorly written and gonna feel more rushed than usual. I promise edite it when I have time.

Also. ISTG This was scheduled and it is pure coincidence that today was Lisa's turn.

In fact it was a pretty good club, the best and most expensive you ever had been. Although money isn't a problem to you, this place still feels kinda expensive for what you're used to spending on a regular night, but so far the money has been totally worth it. 

In front of you there is a small circular stage with a pole dance pole in the middle, and color lights pointing directly to the center. The rest of the not so small private room was in complete darkness. You were sitting on a really comfortable chair looking directly at the pole, so the bright light prevented you from seeing the hooded figure that entered the room till they were near the stage.

When the hooded person stepped on the stage you were able to see a black boot high heel boot that covered up to her mid-calf, coming out of the big coat that was hiding they identity. Soon their steep lead them tho be standing between the pole and you, even with the lights you weren’t able to see their face. 

Suddenly music start to play coming from an undetermined point, filling the room with a sweet melody. That was the signal to start the show, so the figure finally took off the hood revealing the facial features of a woman on her late twenties. She was by any standard beautiful, and the make up just enhanced her natural beauty. When she discarded the big coat that was covering the rest of her you saw that her body was beautiful too.

The outfit was simple but it totally served its purpose. It was a two-piece suit that simulated an office outfit. The sleeveless top clung to the woman's curves, hugging her completely, highlighting them and also highlighting her breasts. Pressing them together to create the effect that her bust was more prominent than it really was. The top also showed off her marked abdomen. The shorts on the other hand barely covered from the waist to the beginning of her thighs, and from the front it gave the impression that half of her ass was visible. Fishnet stockings and the aforementioned boots completed the outfit.

After a few seconds of looking directly at you, the woman turned her back, revealing that the shorts did indeed only cover half of her plump buttocks. Raising her arms, she grabbed the pole, and immediately began to spin on the stage until she jumped into the air, using the pole as a pivot point.

The dancer was good at what she did, even you who didn't know much about the subject could see that. She moved gracefully, twisting her muscles to the beat of the music, while she spun non-stop, holding on to the pole. Now the melody had changed to something sexier to accompany the moment.

Her movements were impeccable. Controlled and precise, showing that she was a true professional. But maybe being this good was the only way to work in a club as exclusive as this one. Only the best of the best for the best clients, that was clear. And if you needed any further confirmation, the dancer was currently spinning on the stage with her legs completely open, constantly changing the hand that supported her weight.

After a few minutes of hypnotic dancing, the music changed again and the dancer landed, spinning down from the stage. Only a few meters separated her from you now, and it took her a couple of steps to cover them and stand directly in front of you. Without saying a word, she put her hand on your shoulder and began to sway to the rhythm of the new music. Soon she began to spin around you, getting closer and closer to your body.

Now you could better appreciate her beauty, which was truly stunning, but you could also see from a closer distance how delicious her curves were. It was when she passed in front of you that you were able to see how the tiny shorts hugged the flesh of her buttocks, and how they bounced lustfully with each step. Each sound of heels touching the ground was accompanied by a tremor in her ass and thighs. That drove you crazy while her perfume intoxicated your senses.

Taking you by surprise, the dancer took a few steps away from you and began to unbutton her top, which was soon discarded revealing her perky tits. Her breasts, now free from the embrace of the garment, bounced once before remaining firmly still, only rising and falling to the rhythm of her breathing. Two pasties covered her nipples, preventing you from seeing her tits in all their glory.

Then the dance began again. Now she touched her body as she danced in front of you, immersed in the light of the spotlights that had moved to accompany her. She turned and bent down, stretching her ass back, making her buttocks stick out more from her shorts. You wanted to reach out and touch the most perfect ass you had ever seen in your entire life, but you knew that was off limits. It had been made clear to you that you could only watch, the right to touch was above the amount that even someone like you could pay. Still the dancer could put her hands on you if she wanted to.

As if she was reading your thoughts, the girl spread her legs and leaned in ninety degrees, putting her ass as close to you as it had been all night. Grabbing the shorts by the waist she pulled them off in one swift movement, removing them in one go and ripping them in the process. The image that was revealed in front of you made your cock throb, protesting inside your pants for being touched.

A few inches from your face was her round, plump ass, covered only by stockings and a tiny thong that was lost between her buttocks. The garment was large enough to barely cover her anus and vagina from your view, but even so you were able to see the outer edge of her rear entrance. In front of you was a whole meal served and you were not allowed to take a bite.

But the torture didn't end there as now the girl sat on your lap, placing her ass crack directly on your clothed penis. It was obvious that she could feel your tip digging into her flesh despite the clothes, but like a true professional she didn't protest. Instead she began to move her ass rubbing against you, while grabbing her hair and lifting it up revealing her delicate neck to you.

Of course you wanted to kiss her neck, her shoulders, and the delicate but toned muscles of her back. Everything about this woman was perfectly delicious and drove you crazy, even how her tanned skin seemed to shine with pearls under the light of the colored spotlights.

You needed more from her but all you could get was the action of her ass on your crotch. Your cock protested and you struggled not to make any noise even though your state of arousal was evident. You could practically feel your tip pressing against her barely covered anus. Your balls ached and all you could think about was the woman you had dancing on your lap.

The controlled movements of her ass, the way her back pressed against your chest letting you see her tits firmly bounce, her perfume, the little kisses she gave you on the cheek. It all drove you crazy and quickly took its toll on you. Unable to hold back any longer you came in your boxers, staining them with your hot cum as you moaned and panted.

The dancer continued to move her ass in a circular motion over you, until she felt the wetness of your semen against her skin. You had come so much that even your pants were stained. She then stood up and gave herself a hard spanking so that you could see her ass shake for the last time. She then turned around and made the gesture of kissing her fingers, which she then delicately placed on your lips as if she were sharing a kiss with you.

With that, and having fulfilled her task, she simply took her coat and left, leaving you alone in the now dark room. With your pants stained by your own semen, panting without having been touched,  and thinking about how much money would be a reasonable sum to leave her as a tip.

[brennenscolby]

Rough. || könig

Summary: you made a grave mistake telling your husband to get rough with you.

A/N: you guys keep asking, I keep giving. I’m so feral for this man it’s so bad :(

Wc: 1k +

Content: MAJOR SPIT KINK, overstimulation, creampie, praise, Dom! Konig, teasing, dirty talk, breats play, breast fetish, rough sex, spanking, anal play.

Pairings: König x Female! Reader

Minors DO NOT interact

————

The expanse of your exposed back shimmered with perspiration as your plump breasts pressed firmly against the pink rabbit plushie beneath your form, staining the surface of the fabric with abundant drops of sweat.

Heavy pants fell from your kiss-bitten lips, growing more frequent as your husband’s hips harshly slapped against your jiggling ass cheeks, prompting a rumble of flesh to echo across your shared bedroom. A soaked spot resided below the moans and groans bouncing across the room, containing reminants of pre-cum and arousal of which spilled from your used pussy moments prior. It’s been hours since he started fucking you like this and he hasn’t let you cum yet. Not after what you said to trigger the event in place.

“I want you to be rougher with me. We have gentle sex all the time. I don’t want that anymore.”

“Is this what you Fuckin’ wanted, schatz?” He barked, lips attacking the juncture between your jaw and neck as he continued pumping his heavy, thick cock deep within your spongy, velvety walls. “Ich werde deinen perfekten kleinen Körper beanspruchen”, he rasped with gritted teeth. You mumbled incoherently, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you desperately yearned to release on your husband. Stray hairs stuck to your sweaty visage, making you look all the more gorgeous in the eyes of the man that solely got to witness the pleasured looks and lewd glances which appeared on your face from his own ministrations.

“Speak up.” A broad hand snatched your face in a vice-like grip, fingers wedging to squish your cheeks.

“Y-you’re so b-big!” You babbled, eyes sparkling as they met his own. He smirked darkly at your angelic face and rolled his hips oh so tenderly, forcing you to sputter as drops of arousal spilled onto the dampened sheets beneath your forms.

“Hmm!” your pink tongue lolled out of your gaping mouth, of which contained traces of smeared crimson lipstick trailing up to your cheek. Your mind drifted in and out of an otherworldly state, thoughts swirling to mush at the presence of the veiny, fat cock bullying its way into your poor little pussy.

“You’re always so tight, sweetheart.”

You let out a cute little whimper of which König took as a sign of your pleasure. He nipped at your ear hotly, teeth grazing just the tip to stem another desperate mewl from your salivating mouth.

“Good girl.” he cooed, mocking the desperation in your voice.

Your dampened eyes snapped open, feeling as rough palms suddenly prodded your plush, ass cheeks apart, exposing them to your husband’s piercing gaze. You whined and squirmed, desperately clawing the sheets in front of you before feeling your back suddenly stiffen as a glob of spit dripped down your asshole and to the space where your wet pussy tightly stretched around his pulsing cock.

“K-konig!” You wailed, tears messily dripping down your flushed cheeks in zigzagged trails. Embarrassment colored your bashful face as you hid into the mattress below. The translucent substance smeared between the cleavage, and you squealed the second a harsh slap smacked against your reddened ass.

A rumble of deep laughter vibrated in your ear and down your shivering back, going as far as to course through your body and down to your twitching, throbbing clit. He hummed seductively, pressing the hardened abs of his stomach against the flesh of your lower back.

“I know you like it when I do that, liebling.” Your husband sighed huskily, pulling the head of his heavy cock back out of your cum covered cunt, leaving the stretched hole of your inviting cunt abandoned and puckering for attention, before roughly plunging your tensing walls apart, a loud squishing sound following from your mixed, dripping juices.

“F-fuck”, you gasped, grasping your colorful pillow to your pounding chest tightly, only to feel the sensitive buds of your tits rake against the material in spouts of stimulation.

“Cute little asshole twitching all f’me.” his accent rasped and you whined adorably in reply, the heat from your dewy cheeks shimmering down on your moistened collarbones. He hoisted his body forward, the bulky build of his torso fully encapsulating your small, nimble form as he cruelly curled a muscled arm around your delicate neck, the other tracing its appendages down to rub soothing circles on your clit.

Your heart skipped a beat at his embrace, adrenaline coursing through your veins. He continued using your body like an instrument, forcefully propelling his soaked pelvis so that his cock skimmed your insides in the most delicious of ways.

Your husband moaned upon catching your watery orbs, snickering the second three of his appendages suddenly slipped into your mouth. You sputtered and choked in surprise, chest heaving as your eyes fluttering closed before you obediently suckled the thick fingers in your heated cavern.

“Mmm!”, you moaned sweetly, tears rolling down your heated cheeks and collecting beneath your saliva covered chin.

“You’re so fuckin’ cute, Schatz.” he grunted, rolling his hips back to sharply thrust back in, smacking against the plushy place against the upper wall of your cunt powerfully enough to make the springy bed you leaned on, squeak.

“Can’t believe this cute pussy is all mein.”

Whiney little mewls escaped your lips and rumbled against his fingers as he continued plunging into your pussy, the walls clenching around the intrusion of his slippery dick as he chuckled below his breath from your mindless hiccuping and sputtering moans.

“You feel s’ good, liebling.” he groaned, the flesh surrounding his pelvis and the v lines of his sturdy hips were smothered in your glistening arousal, which he moaned fondly of the second he felt more of it splatter onto the muscles of his upper thighs and his spamming balls.

“You gonna make this pretty pussy cum on my cock, ja Süße?” You nodded dumbly, the pads of your fingers scrambling to grab at the flexed muscled arm wrapped around your neck. “Y-yea- ahh¡”

“Yes what?”, he challenged, azure eyes calculatingly staring at the pleasured features of your cute face.

“Y-yes, my h-husband.” He smirked, his hand pinching and fondling a single bouncing breast.

“Mein. deine Fotze gehört ganz mir.”

You hastily pulled your quivering mouth away from his drenched fingers, a web of spit sticking to your chin as you choked and sputtered, the knot in your lower belly coiling at the sudden embrace of his cock pressing against the sweet, plump place in your pussy. Your back arched as your shaky thighs trembled, eyes pinching closed from the sudden orgasm which overcame your senses.

“I-I’m cumming!”, you mewled prettily, breathless from the slick coated balls that slapped firmly against your sweet, drizzled cunt.

“G-Gottverdammt. Shit.” König grunted lowly, the feeling of your throbbing walls squeezing his brimming, inflamed cock oh so deliciously, he began to pant the moment spurts of his hot, white cum splattered across the insides of your soft, gushy pussy. Angelic moans spewed from his mouth as he emptied himself in you, lovingly kissing your shoulder blade as his forehead lazily pressed on your matted spine. Weak movements from his hips pushed him to keep rutting against your puffy clit as he slowly pulled out, streaks of his seed splashing on the hood of your cunt.

König stood rigid against your sweaty back as you gulped for air, hands loosely planting on the white, crisp mattress cover below you before your senses finally regulated. Your tired body limply dropped on the bed and you looked at your husband expectantly, only to find yourself getting hoisted upwards by his strong hands.

Your face was approximately inches from his, and you began to feel self-conscious now that your rabbit plushie no longer shielded your full breasts from his intent gaze. You opened your half-lidded, fluttering eyes slowly, batting them innocently before feeling as the wind suddenly escaped your pounding chest. Hefty appendages dug into the hickies marked into the surrounding flesh of your neck, and you began to cry, fright shining in your doe-like eyes as your heart accelerated in anticipation.

“What did I say about making me cum, Schatz?”

—-

deine Fotze gehört ganz mir. - your cunt is all mine.

Ich werde deinen perfekten kleinen Körper beanspruchen - I’m gonna claim your perfect little body

Süße - sweet

Liebling - darling

Maus/mausi - mouse

Ja - yes

Schatz - treasure

Mein- mine

Gottverdammt - god dammit

[hyunebunx]

💛 w/ felix please!!

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💛- 'a kiss shared during sunset, often romantic and serene'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff!! the fluffiest kind

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: i loved writing this sm :( it's a little self indulgent but i still hope you'll like it! thank youu for requesting!! <333

Sunsets were your absolute favorite.

It might sound cliché or overrated, but witnessing such mesmerizing beauty whenever you were lucky enough to, genuinely made life worth living to an extent other things didn’t. Beauty was in the eye of the beholder but nobody could deny the one of a kind colors and the bright light that was slowly dimming with every minute that passed weren’t painting one of the most gorgeous pictures of them all. Mother Nature herself was the most talented artist after all, her creations admired all over the world by all sorts of people, even the ones who didn’t have a keen eye for the arts in the first place.

Yet somehow, the sunset was even more dazzling now while you were admiring it with Felix, your one and only who everyone was convinced was related to the sun himself.

Lowering your hands, you let the cheap film camera dangle from your wrist casually, the sand warm under you. “I’ve always loved taking pictures of the sky.”

Felix tears his gaze from the ocean, the warm breeze softly ruffling his long blond hair as he smiles. “I know. You never miss a photo opportunity, wiping out your phone and stopping everything we do to get that perfect shot.”

You return his smile, sheepishly, bumping your shoulder into his. “So, you’ve noticed.”

“Of course I have.” He admits like he couldn’t phantom someone not noticing, leaning closer and staring at you in such a way that had you believing he forgot all about the beautiful view in front for a moment. “Because while you’re busy staring at the sky, my eyes only see you.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your face alarmingly as you finally turn to look at him. Wrong move, because the sight of him takes your breath away, especially since you’re close enough to notice every single detail that made Felix who he was. His freckles were not hiding behind any makeup, spilling all over his cheeks like actual constellations – the ones on his eyelids were always your favorite, having taken too many pictures of them to even count now – plump lips naturally pink and still stretched into a faint smile that only pulled you closer by your heartstrings, tugging at them and never really letting go.

The sun was setting, and there were numerous other couples around enjoying the view and the last days of warmth on the beach, but now you could only see him.

“Now you’re just lying to fluster me.” A giggle escapes you, awkward and shy as the beautiful shades of orange begin caressing his side profile, mesmerizing you.

Felix shakes his head instantly. “Why would I?” His hand finds yours on the sand, intertwining your fingers. “People find beauty in different things. So, while you’re enthralled by the sky and all of its colors, I’m bewitched by you and only you.”

Bewitched, like you were some sort of otherworldly being in his eyes, a piece of art deserved to be hung in a museum in its own separate section, surrounded by security 24/7.

You’ve never doubted Felix’s love for you but at the same time, you had no idea he regarded you so highly, in the same way you did him.

Without a second thought, you lean over and plant a lingering kiss on his cheek, feeling his smile widen before you get the chance to pull away, happiness radiating off of him.

“Sure, the sky is beautiful.” You nod, a little tongue-tied and emotional by his previous statement. “But there’s something I love capturing in pictures even more.”

His brows furrow, turning his whole mind upside down in search of the answer he’s looking for, sure you’ve told him about this before. There was no way he wouldn’t remember.

You reach to smooth out the skin and stop him from stressing. Felix beams in response, catching your fingers and bringing them to his mouth to kiss one by one.

The waves were crashing against the shore, bringing a rare serenity you and Felix could never get enough of as the sun seemed to pause its descent to also witness your love, giving you a few more moments of light.

“The moon?” He tries, thoughtful while bringing your hand to his chest.

You shake your head and almost close the distance between you to whisper. “You.”

Then, you kiss him, tenderly and softly like you’re afraid once you pull back and open your eyes he will disappear like he was nothing more than a fragment of your own imagination. Or a ray of sunshine personified whose time ran out and he needed to hurry home and be among his people, to allow the moon to take front stage.

Felix holds your hands like he feels the same, not believing someone like you was actually real and bothered to give him the time of day.

There is no rush or desperation, just two people who love each other like it wasn’t the first time, like they somehow met before in a past life and were separated by the cruel passing of time. Like soulmates destined to find each other over and over again, guided by the red string of fate that never tore no matter how far apart your paths were, or what obstacles dared to stand in your way.

When you pull away, he chases after you, pecking your lips repeatedly until he’s satisfied. But he doesn’t seem to get enough, deepening the kiss at the last second while pulling you even closer as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to feel you near.

The sun is almost gone when you come back for air, forehead resting against your lover’s as you both break into the biggest smiles, delighted to be together and make even more memories.

And for once in your life, you don’t mind missing a sunset for you found an even more beautiful view. 

[luigibigeater]

running on e / pt. 1

--- luigi breaks into the wrong apartment ---

notes: part 1 of (i think?) 2, finally contributing luigi smut to the site and i'm so excited :). this is very back n forth and all over the place so far so i rly appreciate any feedback, thoughts, requests, etc <3

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t think anyone lived here—” is the first and last thing the intruder can utter before the girl takes him out in one clean strike with a kitchen pan. 

When Luigi comes to, his hands are tied securely to the old-fashioned furnace behind him with a pink rope that seems intended for shibari. The initial onset of panic is eclipsed by confusion: the warm weight on his legs is the slumbering body of a plump black cat who seems to have made a home for itself on his lap. A girl sits upon a cushion directly across the room from him with her legs crossed and her eyes closed as if lost in profound meditation. She’s surrounded by dozens of tiny tealight flames, the sole lightsource. 

The room is white and sparse, furnished by no more than a frameless mattress and an overlarge mirror, but it’s warm nonetheless in the buttery candlelight. The rich oriental rug which covers much of the floor is all the color offered by the space. 

Luigi has no fucking idea what to do so he simply sits still, hoping he’ll find some way out of this before the girl’s eyes open. His coat, shoes, and mask are all still on but he can see his backpack discarded in the darkness of the next room and it looks rifled through. The cat stirs at the slightest of his tugs against the binding and it glares at him with its big golden eyes. As if psychically connected to her pet, the girl’s gaze fixes on him not a moment later. They share in a minute or so of silent staring and her expression maintains such unbroken placidity that Luigi can’t repress the nervous chuckle that crackles out of him.

“So,” he begins, swallowing thickly. “What the fuck?”

“You can relax, I’m not calling any cops on you.” The cat resumes its previous position, at ease. 

“So what am I tied up for?”

“Because my home is not a place for men to roam free.”

“Right, okay, that’s fair. And, um—if you were to call the cops—it would be for…breaking in…or?” Luigi tries to tread lightly, tries to keep his face flat and neutral, but he knows how expressive he can be. 

“I know who you are, if that’s what you’re asking. But I won’t call the cops on you for that either.” 

“Thank you,” he exhales shakily, heavily relieved despite the persistent lack of clarity. “Thank you, thank you.”

“Seemed like you really needed a place to stay so I’ve given you one. But I have my rules.” The girl’s eyes narrow at Luigi; he nods with the eager petulance of a child who craves approval while his gaze wanders mischievously down to where her nipples protrude through a snug white tank. She scoffs lightly and closes her eyes once more.

“I’m super grateful for it. Um, your hospitality.” Luigi shifts around, trying to get comfortable despite the rope. The girl ignores him and he chews his lip as he racks his mind for something to say, wondering if this is one of those sticky scenarios he can charm his way out of. Something tells him it’s not. Though physically attractive, there’s an undeniable strangeness about his captor, an almost supernatural quality, as unsettling as it is endearing, and he wonders if he should be more afraid. Some of the candles around her are close enough to singe the bare skin of her legs but she seems unperturbed. 

“Your cat is really sweet,” Luigi tries, pouting beneath his mask in a way girls have called cute before. “Wish I could pet her…”

The girl laughs breathily, eyes still closed in denial of him, as if perceiving his thoughts. And indeed Luigi was trying to convince himself that if she would just look at him, just take down his mask so he could show off his smile, he would get whatever he wanted. 

“So, are you meditating? Cause I love to meditate. But, I mean, my mind can race like crazy when I do it so I have to make up mantras to interrupt my thoughts. Just over and over, anything I can focus on. Usually affirmations, you know, like ‘I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy.’ Sometimes even just one word can do the trick too, of course, like ‘fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“—up! Shut the fuck up!” 

“I’m just trying to center you, trust me, it’ll help. Just listen to my voice: fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Luigi,” the girl groans as she begins moving her candles aside, one by one. His blood cools at the sound of his government name; it’s confirmation that she does indeed know who she is.

“God, Luigi,” the girl crawls across the room toward him with one little flame in hand. His breath intensifies as she grabs his chin roughly, easing his mask down with her fingers, letting them tease open his lips. Brows clenched together, bambi eyes trembling in the weak light, he’s sex personified, and the girl sighs lustily, delighted to find the real man even better than the pictures. Their mutual arousal is tangible at this distance: him at the scent of jasmine in her hair, her at the trickle of partially dried blood at his hairline where the pan made contact. 

“Wh- what are you—” Luigi gasps when the hot wax hits his cheek. “Owwwww, what the fuck?”

“I know what you’re doing, trying to catch me with my guard down, you fuck, fuck, fuck. Not gonna happen.” She crawls away so that he can see her ass peaking out of pajama shorts. He takes the sight in greedily.

“Jesus Christ, I feel like you just jizzed on me. This is so fucking weird,” he keens, trying to rub the wax off onto his shoulder, watching curiously as she goes into her nearly vacant closet. 

“Behave before it gets weirder,” she says as she comes back with fabric balled in her hand. “Oh, and don’t touch the baby.” The girl squats down again to wrench her cat from his lap.

“I didn’t touch anything! The baby touched me,” Luigi taunts, making no effort to conceal what’s now so hard to miss in his pants. 

“She gets it. There’s something very touchable about you,” the girl murmurs, face nuzzled into the fur on her cat’s neck so that all Luigi can see are her eyes. He can’t help the way his cock pulses. She doesn’t miss it.

“Yeah, you look pretty touchable too, like, kinda fucking hot…” Eyes glossy, flushed, they take each other in for a few silent beats that are marked only by the sounds of the city beyond them. 

“Alright, well, I actually need you to shut the fuck up now. I have reading to do, so,” she places her cat aside gently and moves her wadded panties toward his face.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Luigi starts to ramble again, panicking. “Can I please just piss first? Please, please just let me use your toilet real quick and then I promise I’ll follow all your rules. Assuming you have a toilet, I dunno, you don’t have much in here. But you know all about me, right, so you probably know about my back and my fucked up bladder? Please? Please, you don’t want me to ruin your carpet, do you?”

The girl grows visibly annoyed and, again, takes hold of his face harshly so that she can force her makeshift gag into his mouth, finishing it off with a scarf. Her stomach flips at the desperation in his eyes, the pathetic sounds he manages around the fabric, the way his hips jerk. She backs away so she can take it all in.

He doesn’t seem any more or less upset when she retrieves his journal, the one she’d found in his backpack, from under her mattress. She stretches out across her carpet on her stomach to read, not too far from him, her ass arching up and her top plunging to multiply his torture. 

They stay that way for a while, the girl humming occasionally when she likes an idea in his writing, Luigi shifting his legs occasionally in discomfort. “I like your mind,” she tells him. At a certain point, he starts to whimper loudly enough that she loses focus (but never loudly enough for any neighbors to hear). 

“What, Luigi?” The girl huffs, dropping the notebook. His rhythmic noises take on a new quality as if he’s saying please, please, please. Every part of his body absolutely begs for relief: thick brows taut, eyes watery, the curls at his forehead beginning to dampen with sweat, jaw clenching hard around the gag. His hips rock languidly with a fluency that makes the girl ache, her thighs squeezing together.

“The more you do that, the more I want to wreck you. You can just let it out, you know, I obviously don’t give a fuck. Actually, no, I think I’d really, really like to watch you piss right here and embarrass yourself. You deserve it for ruining my night and scaring the fuck out of me. Bet you regret breaking in here now, huh? A grown fucking man with an annoying ass mouth just absolutely degrading himself for me, I think I like that a lot. I wish you’d just fucking do it already, Luigi, just fucking let go for me. And then we’ll see what other disgusting shit I can make you do.”

Luigi cuts her trail of words off with a grunt so depraved that it borders on bestial, jaw so tight that veins are showing, face flushed like he’s excited about this too. The girl laughs with pleasure to see the physical proof that he’s finally given up and given in. She reaches over to free him from the gag.

At first he looks disgusted with her, almost angry, lips furled and swollen, chest heaving. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” She teases, leaning closer to him than she’d ever been. 

“No. You’re fucking insane,” he growls. But as Luigi stares into the girl’s eyes, at the sinister humor in her expression, as he regains his composure, breath evening out, he laughs, slumping with newfound relief. “Fuck.”

“Finally out of things to say?”

Luigi lurches forward, suddenly freed, and grabs the girl's throat with one hand while using the other to pin her arms behind her back. She doesn’t protest, to his surprise, keeping quiet and pliant as he ties her wrists behind her.

“Does that hurt?” He asks, giving the rope one final tug for reassurance. She shakes her head no. Luigi carries her over to her bed like she’s a doll and sits her down on it. He removes his coat, places his journal back in his bag, takes out his gun, fiddles with it, rolls up his sleeves, blows out the candles, turns on the ceiling lamp, paces the room back and forth, gaze shifting between the girl and the floor, the girl and the floor.

“Are you mustering up the courage to kill me?”

“What? No! I’m—” Luigi cuts himself off and squats before her so that their faces are only a few inches apart. “Look, I don’t know what to do. I’m fucking fucked, as you well know, and sooner or later I’ll get caught. I broke in here because I thought this apartment was vacant. It didn’t cross my mind that it might belong to a psychotic minimalist. I need to take a fucking shower because you fucking made me piss myself and I don’t trust you to sit here unsupervised. I also think I want to fuck the shit out of you but I can’t tell if that’d be wrong or not given the dynamic we find ourselves in but, at the same time, I’m not the one who started it…”

The girl stares poutily at him, refusing to answer for a few seconds. 

“Finally out of things to say?” He jeers, mocking her voice by putting on a higher pitch. The girl spits in his eye forcefully and Luigi doesn’t hesitate to slap her so hard that her ears ring. But the way she turns to look back at him, her bottom lip clasped hard between her teeth, gives him all the clarity he needs.

“Get the fuck up,” he barks, tugging her to her feet by the hair. He stands behind her, several inches taller, his front flush against her back, and she watches in the mirror as he bites down on the side of her neck. He glances at their reflection, teeth still busy devastating the sensitive skin, as he shoves her top up to her collarbone with one hand and shoves the other down the front of her shorts, moaning at the sight of it all.

It’s not a shock to him that she’s already wet against his fingers as they go to circle her clit a few times but it racks his body with another pathetically pleasured noise nonetheless. She can feel his chest vibrate with the sound. 

“You know you moan like a bitch,” she simpers, testing him, and it earns her another harsh slap, this time to the ass. Luigi then draws his gun out from where he’d tucked it in the waistband of his pants and slowly raises the barrel to her temple. 

“You like talking like you’re still in charge, huh?” He speaks softly, right up against her ear, and she can’t tell if she’s shaking with fear or arousal. “That’s okay, it’s okay. Daddy’ll show you who’s in charge. Let daddy show you, hm?”

Luigi nudges the cool gun harder into her head as if to remind her that it’s there before momentarily retiring to retrieve a chair from the room over. He forces her to sit facing the mirror, tearing her panties and shorts off in a motion so rough that it leaves scratches, before pressing his face hard between her legs like he wants to disappear there.

Now it’s the girl’s turn to croon her desire. As the night’s events had already proven, Luigi loves heavy eye contact. And that doesn’t change as he licks at her ferally, spits on her already soaked cunt, and nibbles at her clit till she’s writhing. 

“Daddy, daddy,” she chants as he tongue fucks her, shocking herself with her own pliancy. She claws at her own hands bound behind her, wishing she could fist them in the tight coils of his hair. The restraint only doubles her pleasure. “Jesus, fuck, I—”

“Huh? What is it?” He pauses his determined movements to speak, lapping slowly at her while he waits for a reply. She whines in frustration and he smirks while catching his breath. He flutters his lashes up at her, humming, “did you need to tell me something?”

“Just that- if- if you want to make me cum, you should use your fingers,” she manages. He raises his eyebrows (ugh, God, you know what I mean) in a way that makes her stomach ache with want and he has to lean back a bit to dodge her desperate thrusts. 

“Ohhh, that’s what you want. See that’s a good use of your mouth, telling daddy what you want. Not that I’m always gonna give it to you so readily,” he grins as he takes firm hold of one hip to control her stuttering pelvis. 

He pushes inside gently with his middle and ring finger to start, just a knuckle in, and then tastes the slickness greedily on his tongue, adding even more wetness to the mix with his saliva. One cheek resting on her inner thigh, he watches his hand move in and out torturously for a few thrusts before latching his lips hungrily back onto her clit. 

It goes on like that for a bit, Luigi attentive to her body’s responses so that he can nail the rhythm she so badly craves. She stares in awe of him, her moans unrestrained, and she feels her attraction toward him taking on a dangerous edge as it transcends the physical plane. It’s him, fuck, I fucking want him, she whimpers internally. His writing, his wisdom, his brilliance, his sharpness, his cockiness, his humor, his bravery. He’s probably going away for good and this is the only time I’ll know him and here he is eating me out like I’m his final meal on death row…

Luigi’s excitement seems to intensify when he notices her crying and she can’t help but cum without warning the moment he starts humming against her like he’s the one getting head. It’s everything about him that causes her to seize up, thighs squeezing around him, before releasing; it's the sight of him rubbing himself through his pants like a virgin, too excited to practice restraint, and it’s how lost he seems in the act of pleasuring her, despite his insistence that he’s the one in control. 

He doesn’t ask what the motive is behind her tears but he wipes them on the sleeve of his shirt with concerned care, pointlessly so as they have yet to cease flowing. Each time they lock eyes, she suspects he can understand her, and this time is no different. Still on his knees, Luigi presses his head into her stomach so he can reach around and untie her wrists for her. She holds his head there against her torso, sobbing into his curls, grateful she can finally card her hands through them. He draws soothing circles into her thighs, letting himself be held. 

When she finally calms a bit, he pulls back to ask in all seriousness if he’d hurt her. She insists that he hadn’t. She doesn’t tell him how badly it hurts to know that he’ll likely never know freedom again, that this country will make a symbol of his young life, that she’ll probably never see him again. 

“Luigi, I’m sorry,” the girl deftly reaches down his back to snatch his gun and then wrenches his head back by the hair so she can press the barrel just past his lips.

“This is such a stu’id ‘ucking ga’e,” he groans, words partially impeded by the cold steel intrusion. She laughs and he finds himself grinning at the wild contrast between the display of humor and her tragically lovely tear-stained face.

“What game?” This time it’s his turn to get slapped, teeth knocking painfully against the gun.

“You’re ‘ucking crazy…” he musters, moaning uninhibitedly at the contradictory pleasure of being degraded.

[hearts-4-vicky]

a lil birdie told me you wanted some le ssera asks😈m

HEAR ME OUT. mean!dom!chae absolutely bitching you. you would come home from a night out with your friends, but chae was so pissed because kkura was flirting with you so she would just pounce on you once she shut the door! ripping off your clothes so she can get a taste of your sweet fat cunt, she has you cumming all on her tongue and then she starts rubbing her soaked cunt against yours. choking you while she grinds her cunt against yours, saying, “would kkura unnie like you like this? you whore, i bet you want her riding your pretty face or sucking on your tits while i fuck you dumb.” overstimming you until you both are cumming on eachothers cunts! she doesn’t even give you a break because she’s now riding your pretty face, purposely squeezing her thighs around your head and until she’s squirting all over your face and in your mouth :3

IN FOR IT ✦

Kim Chaewon x fem reader (plus a special guest)

warnings: mean! dom! chae, bratty! sub!reader (later), brat tamer chae, reader likes older women, degradation, mommy kink, overstimulation, marking, manhandling squirting, tribbing, oral, edging, pussy slapping, regular slapping, face sitting, ppl thirst over reader, secret relationship, they dont know how to hi communicate, a bit toxic… yeah, um idk i think rhats it?

wc: 2.2k (not proofread)

anon we could make out if you want i mean… im not against it or anything… but i had to reqrite this bullshit like three tiems im so fucking done ☹️ (a/n at the bottom as always 💪) oh and thank u @ningvory for deciding the pics for chaewonnn🫶🏼🫶🏼

“ugh- fuck! chae.. t-too tight-!”

“okay, shut the fuck up weirdo.. god making this sound so sexual..” chaewon was currently helping you lace up the back of your dress, getting ready for your first meeting with her members.

“there, oh holy shit.” finally getting the bow right, she stands back to admire her work.

“hm? whats up? do i look bad or something..” you do a spin in front of the mirror, stopping after seeing your tits. “DAMN I LOOK GOODDDDD”

“huh- yeah, yeah whatever..” chaewon pushes her hair back before covering her mouth, barely muffling a groan.

“oh? whats wrong baby… don’t you think i look pretty? or maybe.. you’re too busy staring at these..?” you grope your tits, a sultry look in your eye. her eyes never leaving the sight of your breasts nearly spilling out of the red lacy fabric, “tell me mommy, which part of me interests you the most?” you pull her closer by her tie, letting her pin you against the mirror. “fuck… your- your eyes..” shes practically whimpering at this point, cant even hold eye contact with you. the light in her eyes shift, starting to droop at your intoxicating scent “mm.. and what color are my eyes baby?” your hand brings her face closer, letting her come up with a coherent answer “red.” she says with confidence, before pulling you impossibly closer by your exposed hips and letting your lips meet. its a messy kiss, shes sucking on your bottom lip, tasting your lipgloss then going back to exploring your mouth. teeth clash as chaewons so desperate for you, all of you. she wants.. no, she needs every part of you, and she needs it now. pulling away from your plump lips, she starts leaving open mouthed kisses trailing down your jaw, remnants of lipgloss stain your skin. breaking out of the trance, you try pushing her away, “ h-hold on.. ! your m-members are waiti-“ “don care pretty girl, need you now..” you gulp as chaewon starts untying the bow she spent oh so long to perfect..

“CHAEWON ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!? ugh… we’re half an hour late- huh.. slow down!”

you’re rushing to fix your makeup, and to hide the marks she recklessly left. “well maybe if you didn-“ chaewon feels something poking her neck, “dont.. dont you fucking dare finish that sentence Kim Chaewon.” she nods quickly to not anger you more. fixing your messy hair as chaewon kept honking the cars horn “fucking bitch… WE’RE ON THE DAMN FREE WAY!” her anger issues always made you giggle, but the way her jaw clenched had you folding. you hear her phone ring, she signals you to answer it. unlocking her phone, you see a text from jen “hrry up unnieee manchae alr went to her parents place >:( “ you look over to her, awaiting her response “ugh.. just ignore her.”

as soon as the car gets in a parking space, chaewons rushing out her door, opening yours and carrying you bridal style to the rest of the girls. “finally! unnie, we’ve bee- woah.” yunjin starts to scold the leader before her eyes land on you. kazuha and sakura observe your features quietly. chaewon places you on your feet, panting from the running. “s-sorry.. fuck- we got.. lost?” the girls weren’t even listening to what she was babbling about. “H-hello.. im gay! wait fuck- im kazuha.. its nice to meet you, uh?” her face flushed as she shakily sticks out her hand to you “ im yn.. wow you’re so pretty.. and those muscles, are you single? ” you jokingly say, grabbing her hand with both of yours, the poor girl stops functioning as shes pushed to the side by yunjin. “ hi tits! um- yn! yeah- oh shit im sorry… wait no- im yunjin and thats sakura over there ” you giggle at her slip up before leaning closer and pulling her down to your level, “ first meeting and you’re obsessed with my boobs already.. ”

“ im so hard right now ”

“ what was that ? “

“ what? “

you move onto the last girl, sakura. holy shit shes gorgeous.

“hi ynnie, you look nice in red” she says with a sweet smile, making you swoon. “thank you unnie.. that suit would make anyone fold!”

the way you interacted with her members made chaewons breath hitch.. you’re hers… why are you whoring yourself out to her best friends? she noticed how sakuras eyes twinkled the moment they met with the sight of your figure.. it replayed in her mind every minute.. her ears perk up at zuhas question ,, so what are you to unnie, yn?”

“oh! sorry, im chae’s-“ she swiftly cuts you off “she’s a friend! a close friend of mine yeah..” the fuck? you want to protest, but stop as sakura responds, “that so? then you don’t mind if shes my date for the night, right?” she places a hand on your waist, pulling you close enough you could smell her perfume, and fuck, its intoxicating. you’re all caught off guard by her boldness “oooou im wet..” you mutter, praying to god she doesn’t hear you. “is that okay with you sweetheart?” she whispers to you, a sincere look in her eye, god she’s breathtaking… you slowly nod much to chaewon’s dismay, even if it was her fault this is happening, maybe if she wasnt ashamed of the relationship you guys have sakura wouldn’t be guiding you away to the restaurants doors. with clenched fists, she follows you and the rest of the girls, not before muttering curses to herself. chaewon hates the way you let sakura hold your hips, how close you’re sitting next to her, practically grinding against the older girls thighs in her eyes (you were a reasonable distance away from her)

she wanted to sit next to you but yunjin basically sprinted to the empty seat, pulling out your chair like the gentlewoman she is. chaewon hated how the girls smile shines at the simple words you spoke to her.

the room was filled with loud laughter and compliments being thrown toward your direction every 10 seconds. chaewons grip on her fork nearly made it break into millions of pieces, she was so focused on not dragging you out to the car that she didnt even look up at you, making you feel like shit “ ynnie !! are you alright ? you’re shaking really bad.. do you need anything?” not even getting a word out of your mouth before feeling a warmth embrace you, realizing it was kura’s jacket wrapped around you. “here.. though-“ and suddenly you’re up out of your seat and being led to the exit. “chaewon-“ “shut it.”

your bedroom door slams into the wall, nearly breaking it but chaewon could care less.. “so that’s it? you whore yourself out to my fucking friends? stupid fuckin bitch..” the rest is a mess of curses and degrading names towards you, she throws you on the bed, pinning you to it. she rips that stupid dress off “this wouldn’t have happened if you just introduced me as your damn girlfriend!” you feel her fingers trail up to your panties, “but no! you ju-“ she shoves the garment in your mouth, successfully cutting you off. “you were basically grinding on kkura unnie’s thighs.. you wish you were dating her instead huh?” chaewons hungrily kissing your neck, before trailing down to your pretty tits “maybe if you look like a dirty slut she won’t bat an eye at you” her hot tongue swirls around your perky nipples, hands gripping tightly at your thighs, leaving deep marks. you let out muffled gasps as you squirm underneath the older girl, feeling yourself get wetter by the second. youre clenching around nothing and searching for some sort of relief!! slowly grinding on chaewons exposed thigh, before she slaps your cunt.

she says no words, still nibbling at your sensitive skin, just glaring at you before returning her attention back to the task at hand. you throw your head back, whining into the panties as you plead for chaewon to touch you . she takes notice of how you hump the air so desperately, making her laugh in your face. “pfft- stupid slut.. only thinking about what she wants, huh?” the names she calls you make you scream, this is not something you thought you were into! “i wanna hear the slut bitch and moan, you got that? you’re nothing but my little sex doll i can throw around. ill use you til im satisfied..” she pulls the panties out of your mouth, throwing it in a random corner of the dark room. chaewon’s between your legs now, blowing air onto your needy cunt. “are you this wet because of me, or kkura unnie?” you shake your head in denial, “cmon… use your big girl words..” “n-no! chae- ah!” a quick slap at your folds catch you off guard,

“wrong name bitch.”

you whimper as she starts rubbing your clit “f-fuck! ‘m sorry m-mommy! haa—“ she slowly licks up from your entrance to the clit, making your eyes roll to the back to of your head! she slips her tongue inside, teasing you as she halts all movement. “mmha… mommy… more.. p-please!” she moves her tongue side to side for a bit before completely pulling away. “did you really think id let you get close to cumming you slut? mommy thought you were smarter than that… damn, kkura unnie wouldn’t like a disobedient girl like you..” shes smirking in your face, straddling you and putting one of your legs on her shoulder. slowly, she grinds her puffy pussy onto yours, earning whines and squeals from you. “ghaa! mm- fuck.. m-mommy!!” you drench both of your bottom halves in your squirt, letting out choked moans of her name followed by curses. “cumming so mmgh.. soon? needy bitch, shit!- we’re not even starting yet!” she rubs her cunt against yours faster now, pressing down harder to get her closer. feeling your clits hit each other makes you cry out, bringing you to your second release of the night. chae ups her pace, using your overwhelmed cunt to her hearts content. “mommy! s’too much!! s-stop!-“ your right cheek flashes a new red color, “you’ll take it like a good girl, does mommy have to train your stupid ass again?” she grumbles, focused on squirting all over your sweaty body, maybe then kkura won’t want you. “argh!- fuck!” finally satisfied with her work, she coats you in her scent! shes riding out her orgasm on your overspent, puffy little cunt. you’re busy babbling about something she could care less about, then she gets an idea.

“hey whore, open wide! if you make me cum ill call someone over~”

she gives you milliseconds to react before shoving her glistening pussy on your face. muffled moans vibrate through her core, making her clench her plush thighs around your head. your minds fuzzy, but a pretty girl is using you for her own pleasure ! score in your book! shes cutting off your circulation with how her thighs practically embrace your head in a soft prison but you’re glad you’re a prisoner. “fuck.. making mommy do all the work now? alright then.” she hastily grinds her fat cunt on your open mouth, feeling your nose hit her clit with each motion. chaewons screaming at this point, ‘fuck the neighbors!’ is what she lives by. “ugh!! shit- mmghaa! take it all! drink mommy’s cum!” she squeals before cumming hard on your face, you barely manage to take all of her slick. chaewon slows down her grinding until she halts all movement, finally letting you have some air.

“ugh- fuck.. did you really call over your homegirls?” you groan, feeling like you just got ran over fifty times.

“yeah, just one though. and shes your favoriteee” she says playful before making you look at the now open door

“hi baby.. hope chaewonnie wasn’t too harsh on you..”

“oh suck my fat-“ kkura throws her jacket at her face, shutting the girl up,

“shhh shhut the fuck up.. anyway, got more for me sweet girl? cmon baby, let mommy hear your pretty voice..”

hi my lovessss i missed you guys :(((( how r you ? wahhh this is my longest post yet😭 im sorry if my last posts felt.. bland? ive been struggling with ideas for these reqs lately, i feel like ive written the same thing just with different idols.. but i really enjoyed writing this one <3 !! ill be more active this week since i really do owe it to you guys

Stay safe and I love you lots !!

- Vicky 💋

[iuvmi]

STRAWBERRIES

Pairings: Percy Jackson x fem! Demeter reader Percy Jackson x fem! Demeter reader

Warnings: small injuries and shy percy (??)

Summary: where the daughter of Demeter teaches Percy how to properly harvest strawberries

Word count: 864

A/n: requests are finally openn !!

WARM AND BRIGHT HUES fill the camp as the sun's golden rays emerge from behind the horizon at the crack of dawn. You rubbed your eyes as the sun’s light caressed your face with a gentle touch, illuminating your features. Checking the clock beside you, realizing that nothing was there, just a dull table lamp with decorated leaves. You groaned at the thought of missing your home. You continued to stare at the lamp as if it was mocking you. Pushing the blanket away from you, you saw that your half siblings were still asleep. You spent minutes getting ready as you changed into your orange shirt and jeans. With each step you take, the sunlight plays across your skin, casting delicate shadows that seem to dance in harmony with your movements. The windy morning breezed to your cheeks. 

There were some Apollo kids playing around in the camp, some of them practicing archery. You made your way to the camp's vast garden carrying a basket; rows of colorful flowers and lush plants welcomed you with a chorus of hues and scents.

As you got closer to the patch, you were excited to see plump red berries poking out from behind the leaves, but there seemed to be another person there as well. The moment you saw Percy Jackson standing at the garden's edge, your heart skipped a beat. With a pleasant smile on his lips, his sea-green eyes glistened with curiosity as he examined the strawberries.

"Hey," you called out, your voice carrying across the garden. "Don't just stare at those berries, at least help me?”

Percy's eyes widened, was he really staring at those fruits for too long? He grabbed one of the baskets and approached you. You started explaining to Percy how to properly gather the delicate berries as they walked around the strawberry rows. You demonstrated how to carefully grab the base of each strawberry and twist it off the stem, being cautious not to harm the plant.

“Alright, Percy, so when you're harvesting strawberries and other fruits, it's important to be gentle,” Percy listened attentively, his brow furrowing in concentration as he mimicked your movements. 

Percy smiled right at you. “Got it. Gentle. Like handling a Celestial Bronze Sword.” 

You respond with a giggle as you order Percy to pick strawberries. He obeyed your orders with great enthusiasm. Their laughter blended with the gentle chirping of birds above as they carefully selected the ripest fruit.

Percy thought he was holding ripe fruit as his fingers brushed against a particularly juicy strawberry. He slashed the berry from its stem quickly, only to discover, startled, that it was a mock strawberry with jagged thorns all around it. 

A faint trickle of blood welled up from a cut on Percy's finger where he had brushed against the thorns, and he took a sharp inhale.  

When you noticed the injuries, your eyes widened with concern, and you felt your heart skip a beat seeing how hurt Percy looked. “Shit, you okay?” 

He focused on the finger that was bleeding. “Yeah, it's just a little scratch,” 

“Let me see it,” You reached out for his finger. He backed away and shook his head. 

“It's really not that bad,” Percy hesitates, hiding his fingers that accidentally touched the fake strawberry thorns. 

Sighing, you approached him slowly. “It's better for me to heal it than you going to the Infirmary,”

With a wince, Percy extended his palm, the bright red of the strawberries standing out starkly against the blood staining his flesh. Examining the wound, you took his hand softly in yours, your touch calming and gentle.

"It's not too deep," you comforted him in a gentle manner. "But we should clean it up and put a bandage on it just to be safe."

You guided Percy to a bench nearby and, using delicate hands, dug through your pockets to find a bandage. Their eyes locked for a moment as she carefully cleansed and dressed Percy's finger, their warmth connecting them beyond the act of wound care.

Awkward silence fills the atmosphere as Percy's eyes are looking down. “I didn't know strawberries had thorns,” 

“It's fine, Percy. You're not burdening me,” you replied with a soft voice. 

Percy's cheeks flushed with a warm hue, a rosy tint spreading across his face like the first blush of dawn. His eyes darted away, unable to meet your gaze as embarrassment tinged his expression. “How — how'd you know that?”

“I just know. And you shouldn't be sorry, one of my half siblings mistook the Potentilla Indica for a true strawberry.” You let go of his hands and gaze upon the strawberry patch. Then, you heard one of your friends whistling at you. 

It was Silena Beauregard, child of Aphrodite. “[name], will you stop spending time with your boyfriend and help me out?” 

Now it was your turn to be embarrassed, you shook your head and got up. Picking up the baskets you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ran towards your friend. You looked behind you as you saw him still sitting at the bench unable to move while smiling to himself.

©IUVMI :: please do not steal / translate / paraphrase my work. reblogging and liking my post helps &lt;3

[mariahcarreyyy]

congratulations on 2k!! deserved 💌

how about charles being an ABSOLUTE cat dad like reader has a cat and once he gets introduced to it they become inseparable

# i'm very much a cat person this was so cute to write. i imagined this early on in the relationship but dream as u will!

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

When jealousy took form and blossomed in a person's wretched heart, it did so in two branches: rational and irrational. The glint coloring your eyes in an ugly green after witnessing Charles enter your flat for the first time, automatically gasping and fawning over the white ball of fur idly strolling past the hallway, was certainly the latter of the two.

A gentle, startled sort of coo slipped past your newly minted boyfriend's lips. "A cat! Oh," his dimples form in slopes on his plump cheeks, his eyes creasing in a giddy smile as he drops his belongings and rushes to craddle the kitten in his arms. "I didn't know you—aww, bebé, qu'il est mignon!"

The otherwise quiet hallway was filled with the fondness of Charles' voice and soft, satisfied purrs reverberating in the kitten's throat (who looks comically small in his bulging biceps, by the way). Past the lingering envy and sudden urge to morph into a cat and have Charles hold you carefully, you can't help but grin at the sight.

Charles neck must hurt from looking down sideways and murmuring sweet nothings to the cat as if it were a baby. Or it didn't, very possibly, seeing as you've walked into one too many workout sessions of him training his neck. You allowed him to topple closer to the edge of a cuteness overload before the fatigue piling in your waterline proved too heavy to bear.

Kick off uncomfortable heels; Charles giggled when the ball of fur nuzzled its tiny, pink nose into his neck.

Shrug the jacket onto the floor; Charles dips down to rub the button of his nose against the kittens.

Hang it on the coat rack; Charles melts into an incoherent puddle on the floor when your pet reciprocates his movements.

Pad against marble floors, rubbing your eyes sleepily and shutting the door of your bedroom halfway once you get there; Charles lets out a distant, "Y/n? Mon amour? Where'd you go?" from the hallway.

A smile, your heart appreciating your boyfriend shifting his attention from the cat, threatens to crack at your lips until—

"Oh, mon dieu! He's rolling on the ground. Y/n! Y/n, viens! Viens, come see!"

You throw your hands up exasperatedly despite your solitude, hastily take off your makeup, and nestle into the coldness of your generously sized bed; Charles will come later, but not alone. The warmth radiating off the tiny ball of fur is easily noticeable, squished between two frames and contrasting heavily with your boyfriend's presence.

"I love you," the monagesque murmurs; and then, after a few beats of silence, before you were to open your mouth and echoe his words, he says, "You too, Y/n."

As his cackles bounce off the walls of your bedroom, only growing louder and intensifying when he receives a harsh slap on his shoulder, you find yourself joining in the laughter, unable to resist.