#just not with the ignition lock connected at the same time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cumironi · 7 months ago

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CAN'T YOU HANDLE IT, BABY?

satoru gojo, suguru geto. . . you are sitting there in the living room, drowning under the tongue-tied make-out sessions before your other boyfriends walk in, happily watching the two of you while touching himself.

beware : masturbating! satoru, hand-job! suguru, unprotected sex!, thigh-humping, light blowjob, doggy style, dirty talk, praise, name-calling.

w/c : 6.3k

[☆] MASTERLIST

as you find yourself nestled on the couch, you feel the warmth of suguru's lap beneath you. the soft murmur of the television creates a gentle ambiance in the room. Your hands delicately coil around suguru's neck, forming a tender connection. with a smile gracing your face, you lean in closer to the dark-haired man, closing the distance until your lips meet in a gentle, almost imperceptible touch.

you feel suguru's warm breath on your skin as you deepen the kiss, your bodies pressed close together. with suguru, the connection intensifies as you feel his warm breath caressing your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. the kiss deepens, igniting a passionate flame between you.

your bodies meld together, pressed tightly against one another as if wanting to merge into a single entity. the world around you fades away, leaving only the electrifying sensation of each other's presence. time seems to stand still as you savor this intimate moment, lost in the intoxicating embrace of your desires.

“mmmh...” he hummed as you leaned closer to him, pulling you closer to his chest. he loved it when you leaned against him— when you pressed against him... when you were close like this. one of his hands moved from your waist to your thigh, his fingers tracing over your legs with light and teasing touches. “you're enjoying yourself, aren't you?” he said in a smug tone, his hand trailing further up. he pulls away slightly to give you a beautiful smile, still face not too out of reach.

you find yourself growing flustered as his hand moves further up your thigh, his touch sending tingles through your body. his smug tone only adds to the heat spreading across your face, but at the same time, it fuels a hunger within you. you respond with a coy smile, your voice barely above a whisper, “enjoying myself? i can hardly focus on anything else when you're touching me like this.”

you bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan that threatens to escape. his hands on your bare leg are sending you over the edge, and heat pools in your lower region. you look down at him, your gaze half-lidded and sultry. suguru's smirk widens as he notices your growing blush and the way you bite your lip to hold back a moan. the sight of you looking down at him with a sultry gaze only encourages him to move his hand even further up your thigh, his touch gentle yet possessive.

“is that so?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with a seductive mix of amusement and desire. “then maybe i should keep touching you like this, just to make sure you really can't focus on anything else but me, no?” a soft, breathy chuckle leaves from his mouth, eye your lips for a second along with brushing the tip of his nose with yours.

“please. . . don't stop,” your hands ran through the long of his raven lock, soft and comforting. suguru's words send a wave of anticipation through you as he teases and tantalizes, his touch growing more deliberate as he continues to explore your body. “i love seeing you like this,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “so responsive to my touch. It makes me want to see just how far i can push you... how much more i can make you lose yourself in the moment.”

suguru notices your flustered expression and smirks at the effect he’s having on you. the sight of you becoming more and more unraveled under his touch only adds fuel to the fire within him. his hand glides further up your leg, his fingers tracing patterns just above your inner thigh. he leans in closer, his hot breath against your ear as he whispers, “don’t hold back, i want to hear every single sound you make.”

your breath hitches as you feel his fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, his hot breath against your ear sending shivers down your spine. “mmh. . . s-suguru...” you moan faintly, your voice catching in your throat. his words have you on edge, your body aching for more of his touch. you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him, silently begging for more. “please...” you whisper, your voice quivering with need. “don't make me wait—touch me... i want you to touch me more.”

suguru's gaze locks with yours, his eyes darkened with desire. the heat between you is palpable, and it's clear that both of you are growing increasingly desperate for each other. his hand continues to wander, tracing gentle circles on your skin, never wandering close enough to where you truly want his touch. he leans in, his voice low and filled with a hint of playfulness, “are you getting impatient, sweetheart?”

you whine softly in response, your eyes pleading with him. the way he teases you, touching you everywhere but where you desperately crave his touch, is driving you crazy. “y-yes...” you admit, your voice is trembling. “i am getting impatient. i can't take much more of this teasing. i want- no, need you to touch me, suguru. please . .” begging, word by word hurriedly left your mouth the moment you mumbled on suguru's lips. your body is taut with tension, your fingers gripping the fabric of the couch as you try to keep yourself still. the anticipation is killing you.

as Suguru chuckles softly, his heart quickens with anticipation as he witnesses your undeniable longing for him and his touch. your eyes, filled with a cloud of lust and desire, are hooded, intensifying the allure between you. a warm breath escapes your lips, gently brushing against his face, further fueling the fire within.

suguru's hands embark on a map of your body, moving from your thigh to grasp a handful of your soft rear, exerting gentle pressure. your breath catches in your throat as you feel his hand grasping— touch firm yet controlled. with a tilt of his head, he leans in and playfully nibbles on your lower lip, igniting a surge of pleasure and sending a ripple of pleasure through you.

meanwhile, your free hand roams across his well-defined stomach, his abs, tracing the contours of his chiseled muscles beneath the velvety skin— feeling the warmth and firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. the tactile sensation leaves you captivated by his sculpted physique, further deepening the desire that courses through your veins.

you press yourself closer to him, your bodies now tightly pressed against one another. the desire coursing through your veins is almost overwhelming, leaving you craving more of his touch. “suguru...” you whisper, your voice laced with need. “please. . . keep- keep touching me like that.” a low, rumbling chuckle escapes suguru's lips, the sound sending a fresh surge of heat through your body. “you're so impatient, my sweet.”

as suguru's hands glide across your body, they venture towards your back, gently urging the fabric of your shirt to shift upwards without removing it completely, showing your bare back. with tantalizing anticipation, he reveals the beauty of your chest, his eyes feasting upon the sight. meanwhile, his lips embark on a sensual expedition, tracing a path along your neck, bestowing upon you a delicate symphony of the hot path of butterfly kisses and teasing nibbles. aach touch, light as a feather, ignites a spark of desire, leaving you yearning for more of his intoxicating presence.

“but you know i can't resist you when you ask me so nicely,” he murmurs, his voice gruff. “how could i deny you anything when you ask me so sweetly?” he mumbled against your burning skin. you shiver as suguru's hands slide along your back, shifting the fabric of your shirt and revealing your chest to him. the feel of his lips on your neck, leaving a trail of hot, teasing kisses and gentle nibbles, has your body arching into his touch, desperate for more.

your breath hitches as he murmurs in his low, rough voice, his words sending a wave of desire through you. “i just . . .“ you manage to gasp, your voice trembling, “i just want...more. i need- i need to feel you. everywhere.” suguru's lips move under until he meets with the soft flesh of your breasts. his lips each by each, sloppy and sensational intertwined with your hardened and sensitive bud, taking it openly by his mouth and meeting the warmth of his tongue.

you immediately throw your head backward out of reflex, a soft moan escaping from your pretty lips— bite them to hold back any other lewd sounds as pleasure washes over you in waves, hands gripping the head of the couch to ground yourself. hour eyes close at feeling the pleasure of his tongue, and you bite down on your bottom lip. a sigh softly escapes your lips as you feel his tongue begin to tease you. “suguru..” you softly whisper.

his tongue lightly begins circling you in a slow, teasing manner. he can feel and hear your soft and sweet sighs, it’s all music to his ears. he feels your fingers run through his hair slightly pulling on it, this only encourages him to continue. his hands grasp lightly at your thighs. his nose rubs up against you as he teases every inch of you, his hands still holding you in place. “mm-mmh . .” You feel the vibration of his hum as he does so.

your free hand moves slowly from his body, leaving a trail of electricity jolt until your palm lands on his bulge, throbbing and hardened under the black tight boxer. suguru's breath hitches as you fondle his growing erection through the fabric of his boxers. his hips jerk forward slightly, seeking more contact and pressure. je gazes at you with wide, desperate eyes, his own hands trembling as they hover near your breasts, aching to touch. “please...”

a loud moan escapes suguru's lips as he suckles on your nipple, his hands reaching up to squeeze and play with your other breast. his body trembles with need as your hand touches the bulge, making his hips thrust forward instinctively. “fuck...” your warm hand maps his erection purposely, painfully slowly, touching every vein with the end of your finger as suguru throws his head back to the couch, giving the length a light squeeze before trailing down to his balls, heavy, twitching under your touch.

suguru's breathing becomes heavier as you move down his body, his hands clenching and unclenching with anticipation. when you reach his balls, he lets out a low groan, his legs spreading wider apart to give you better access. “yess . . . just like that...” feeling your warm breath against his sensitive skin sends a shiver through suguru's body, causing him to arch off the couch slightly. “ahh, fuck...” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of your fingers teasingly circling his throbbing member.

with every passing moment, his excitement grows, his heart pounding wildly within his chest. “darling,” his voice breaks into a needy whimper, “i want more . . .” Inching closer towards you, he reaches out, tracing the outline of your jawline with his fingertips. “you're driving me crazy here...”

once his dick is free from the suffocating of his tight boxer— hard and shudders as a pre cum comes out from the tip, down to his length. you sit on one of his tight as your lips continue kissing his neck, giving him a hickey and bruised. your finger wrapped around his base, moving slowly up and down.

suguru gasps sharply when your mouth latches onto his neck, the slight sting of pain only heightens his arousal. “darling. . .” he breathes out, tilting his head to grant you easier access to mark his skin with your passionate kisses. as your fingers begin stroking along the length of his rigid cock, suguru's hips buck involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction. “ahh—yes... just like that,” he pants, his hands coming to rest on your waist, fingers digging gently into your flesh.

lost in the haze of pleasure, suguru's usually stoic demeanor melts away, replaced by a raw, desperate desire for you. “more, please... i need to feel you,” he begs softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intense, pleading gaze. you sniggle on his jaw, giving the skin a few pecks before saying, “be patient, my love, let me touch you first.” a slight biting of his adam's apple brings out a low groan from suguru.

“patience is not my strong suit right now,” suguru admits huskily, feeling a flush spread across his cheeks at your words. despite his impatience though, he complies with your request, allowing himself to be thoroughly explored and pleasured by your talented hands. the feeling of your teeth grazing against his sensitive skin sends another jolt of pleasure coursing through him. “mmm... don't stop,” he urges between ragged breaths, feeling increasingly vulnerable yet incredibly turned on beneath your ministrations.

you hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, signaling satoru's return from work. your attention is immediately diverted and you turn your head to catch a glimpse of him as he enters the living room. as he steps into view, satoru's eyes fall upon the sight of suguru with you on his lap, your shirt slightly askew, exposing your chest to him. satoru's expression is a mix of surprise and intrigue.

“well, well, what have we here?” satoru teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

he takes off his blindfold and the first thing his cerulean blue eyes caught was the sight of suguru geto, head throwing back to the head of the couch as a moan and groan left his glossy lips with you kissing his neck, hands going up and down on his dick. satoru takes in the sight before him, noticing the pleasure and ecstasy etched on suguru's face as you shower his neck with kisses and caresses. his expression is one of interest, mixed with a hint of playfulness.

he saunters closer to the couch, his strides slow and deliberate, his eyes flickering between the two of you. satoru leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “hey, don't mind me,” he grins, “just enjoying the show.” you smile sweetly and greet him with love to your other boyfriends before licking down to suguru's neck while your hands move faster on his throbbing dick.

watching satoru enter the room doesn't seem to faze suguru much. instead, it appears to fuel his arousal further. his back arches even more off the couch, pressing deeper into your warm body as he gazes up at the ceiling with lust-filled eyes. “ahh, fuck...” he whimpers softly when your tongue darts out once again to trace over his sensitive skin, leaving behind a trail of wetness that contrasts starkly with the heat radiating from his body.

as satoru makes himself comfortable nearby, watching you both, suguru can't help but let loose another soft moan— this time directed more at satoru than yourself— drawing your mutual lover’s attention even more firmly onto him.

“feel good, baby? can you handle it?” you whisper in his ear. “do you love it when satoru watches you getting fuck by my hands, hm?” your honey voice usually sounds calm and happy now dripping with sensuality, filthy, suguru thinks even.

a slight squeeze from your warm grip sent suguru almost into a coma, drowning in the sea of pleasure. Your hips slowly move on his bare thigh, “can you feel me, honey?” you kiss his jaw, still smiling as your eyes never leave satoru's blue irises, “can you feel my wet pussy?” your hips move, purposely smearing your wetness all over his thigh.

suguru shudders violently under the onslaught of sensations bombarding him— the expert touch of your skilled hands working his sensitive length, the searing heat of your breath against his skin, and those tantalizing words whispered into his ear. and then there’s satoru’s presence nearby, watching them with evident fascination.

“g-god,” he groans loudly, throwing his head back further as you tighten your grip on his cock. each pulse and throb of pleasure makes him squirm delightfully on your lap. “i-i can feel everything,” he confesses hoarsely, looking towards Satoru over your shoulder.

a wide grin spreads across suguru's flushed features at the thought of what they might be doing behind closed doors— a fantasy that sends another wave of arousal surging through him. “yes... oh god, yes,” suguru's hips jerk reflexively as he feels the cool air hit his slickened thigh where your wet folds had been rubbing against him mere moments ago. . . the visual of his arousal smeared against satoru's pale skin and the knowing glint in the older man's eye is enough to push suguru closer to the edge.

“ah! yes, darling... more!” suguru demands desperation lacing his voice as he writhes beneath your touch. His hands grasp at your thighs, trying to pull you impossibly closer to his straining erection. “please— shit! i'm so close already...” suguru's eyelids flutter shut as he focuses all his attention on the building pressure inside him, each stroke of your fingers coiling tighter and tighter like a spring ready to snap.

you moan as you keep on humping suguru's thigh. satoru's long limb brings him over to behind the couch as he gets undressed, piece by piece— from his jacket uniform to his similar boxer like suguru's while a smirk is still visible on his lips as he looks down at you. your smile, your sweet, sweet smile greet him warmly as you look up.

“s-satoru . .” you moan his name.

“so pretty,” he mumbles as he kisses your lips.

“keep moaning my name baby, keep, keep moving,” he mumbles on your lips. his slightly cold finger pinches your chin. the sudden interruption of satoru's soft lips crashing against your own is like a match to dry tinder, sending suguru hurtling towards the climax with lightning speed. a choked cry rips itself from his throat, muscles tensing and releasing in rhythmic waves as you milk him dry.

“fuck, mmm. . .” his body trembles uncontrollably beneath your touches as orgasm overtakes every inch of his being— leaving him panting heavily and utterly spent underneath you on the couch. but even amidst the aftermath, suguru can't help but crane his neck upwards to steal surreptitious glimpses at their shared lover who'd just interrupted this intimate moment between them; fascination shimmering brightly within those hazel orbs despite how sated he appears now.

while your lips are deep between satoru's cold one, your hand moves faster. knowingly the twitching of suguru's dick around your palm and the shaking of his thigh under you. he is close to the edge.

suguru's entire world narrows down to the sensation of your deft fingers pumping his oversensitive shaft and the warmth of satoru's lips pressed insistently against yours. it's too much, too intense, and yet he craves more. with a sharp gasp, suguru's vision blurs at the edges as the telltale tingles begin racing up his spine once again. he tries to stave off the impending release, desperate to prolong this exquisite torment, but it's no use. his climax barrels towards him like a freight train, unstoppable and merciless.

“s-satoru, darling, ahh!” suguru cries out, arching his back sharply as the dam finally bursts inside him. his cock pulses erratically in your grip, spurting hot ropes of seed all over your hand and possibly even the couch cushions below. . . you retreat from the kiss to gaze at your other boyfriends. his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath

collecting all the cum left with your two fingers, your other free pulling satoru by his neck. as if he understands what you were going to do, satoru stuck his tongue a little for you to gladly feed him with suguru cum before back to intertwine with his lips, his tongue pressing yours and giving you the sweet taste of suguru cum as a reward.

the sight of you feeding satoru straight from the source would've been hotter if suguru hadn't just come like a geyser all over your damn couch cushion— the sight enough to send suguru spiraling into an aftershock, his body convulsing weakly beneath you. but even though he's a quivering mess beneath you, he can't tear his gaze away from the spectacle, from the intimate display unfolding right before his eyes.

sweat trickles down suguru's forehead, trailing lines through the dusting of fluff scattered across his hairline— remnants of the previous night's sexcapades between him and satoru. yet amidst the chaos of sticky flesh and lustful.

his heart throbs painfully within his chest as a surge of love swells up inside him— an emotion so strong and consuming it threatens to choke him right then and there. he watches entranced as Satoru eagerly laps up every last drop you offer him— a silent affirmation of their shared desire for one another that leaves suguru feeling strangely fulfilled and complete.

“mmm... so good,” he murmurs dreamily, letting himself sink deeper into the plush cushions of the couch while he continues to watch the lovers exchange heated kisses filled with unspoken promises. even though suguru was thoroughly depleted after his powerful orgasm, a fresh wave of desire washed over him at the sight of his lovers indulging in such a lewd display. to see you feeding satoru straight from your palm like some kind of perverse appetizer . . . only served to fan the embers of longing flickering deep within him.

the image etched into his mind would likely haunt him later when things calmed down, but right now...right here, it just felt right. and suguru couldn't deny that he loved being part of this messed-up, passionate triangle. he wanted to continue exploring every corner it offered.

as the sensual dance of tongues slows and you pull away, the afterglow of intense satisfaction still shines bright in suguru's hazel eyes. however, his chest heaves slightly more rapidly than usual as he takes in a lungful of air. feeling satoru near you again makes him stir slightly, rolling his torso toward where satoru stands comfortably behind the couch.

“you sure know how to share our love,” he teases softly, reaching out tentatively with a shaky hand to trace idle patterns over your thigh closest to him on the couch. “why don't we move to our bedroom?” suguru suggest.

“no, let's just stay here,” you mumble.

suguru kisses your shoulder as he moves behind you and takes off your shirt to leave you with nothing underneath. you can feel his still-hard dick press against your ass. suguru nuzzles into the crook of your neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of your skin mixed with the musk of their combined arousal lingering in the air. his lips trail up your jawline, leaving a warm path of desire etched into your flesh. as he pulls back, suguru gazes deeply into your eyes, his expression open and loving.

“my sweetheart, are you certain you wouldn't prefer the comfort of our bed?” he asks tenderly, though the hardness of his still-erect cock grinding slowly against your buttocks belies his true intentions. suguru knows all too well how you enjoy playing rough and dirty when caught up in the throes of passion— and right now, his desires are burning brighter than ever.

“positive,” you answer.

suguru pushes your back until both of your palms rest against the headboard, eye-to-eye with satoru's dick as you look up at him while the white-haired man is already looking down at you, eyes glassing with hunger, eyeing you like nothing but prey for his to savor. suguru push your hip upward, flashing him with your wet pussy. “beautiful,” he smiles, lightly spank your ass. “arch your back for me, baby?” he asks before pushing his dick into your dripping wall.

at suguru's command, you obediently arch your back, presenting yourself fully to him. your heart pounds wildly in your chest as anticipation courses through your veins, making every nerve ending tingle with excitement. feeling the head of his hard length tease against your entrance sends a shudder rippling across your form. then, with a low groan of pleasure, suguru thrusts forward, burying himself deep inside you.

the sensation is indescribable— the heat, the pressure, the sheer fullness that has you gasping aloud. yet despite the intensity of it all, there's something comforting about having both men surrounding you— supporting and loving you unconditionally . . .

your hips buck involuntarily against him as he begins to set a slow rhythm— each thrust pushing him further into your slick depths while also rubbing delicious friction against sensitive spots hidden within your core. suguru's eyelids flutter shut as he loses himself in the velvety embrace of your clenching walls. every subtle undulation of your inner muscles feels like a personal caress, urging him to lose control and fuck you with wild abandon.

“gorgeous,” he whispers hoarsely, punctuating his words with a particularly deep, forceful plunge. “love watching my dick disappear into your tight cunt,” gis hands come to rest on your waist, gripping possessively as he increases the pace of his thrusts. the room fills with the symphony of slapping skin and ragged breaths, an erotic soundtrack to the lewd act playing out before satoru's hungry gaze.

suguru leans down, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss as he continues to rut into you with primal desperation, his tongue mimicking the brutal motion of his hips. watching you being taken from behind, satoru’s dick pulses painfully with need. he reaches down, stroking himself faster as he lets out soft moans of approval. seeing suguru buried balls-deep inside your wet warmth is enough to make even this normally reserved man succumb to base instincts.

a bead of precum forms at the tip of his dick, sliding down its length in thick rivulets. with each pump of his hand, more clear fluid oozes forth— coating his fingers and soaking into the fabric covering his lap. but it isn’t just the visual stimulation that has him panting like a horny teenager; it’s also knowing that suguru gets to see exactly how much he loves watching them together.

“god... i could watch you get fucked like this all day,” satoru groans out between heavy pants, trailing kisses down your spine while his fist moves frantically. suguru’s voice grows more husky with each word as he praises your beauty and flexibility, his cock twitching inside you in response. he relishes the way your pert rear bounces with every powerful thrust, your soft cheeks rippling enticingly as he fucks you senseless.

“fucking hell, you're taking me so well,” he grunts, sweat beading on his brow from exertion. “love seeing my fat cock stretch you wide open, sweetheart.” withdrawing almost completely, suguru slams his dick back in, the force of his renewed assault making you cry out in ecstasy. “oh . . my. god,” you cried, back arches sharply, pressing your lips against satoru's straining erection once more. this time, as suguru starts pounding into you at a frenzied pace, you can taste the salty tang of satoru's precum mingling with your own essence on your tongue.

suguru grunts in appreciation as he feels your slick walls clench around him, milking his shaft with each powerful thrust. his own movements become more erratic, driven by the intoxicating sight of you taking him so willingly, your face flushed with pleasure and your eyes glazed over in bliss. “oh, fuck yes... look at you, so perfect for us,” he growls, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining his rhythm. “taking my cock like a good little slut, aren't you?”

“y-yes, please.”

as if to emphasize his point, suguru reaches around to rub your clit in time with his strokes, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your trembling form. the added stimulation proves to be the final straw, and you can feel your climax building at breakneck speed.

“come on, baby, show me those tits!” satoru whining. encouraged by satoru's eager plea, you throw your head back and let out a loud moan, giving in to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. your breasts jut out proudly, nipples hardened into peaks begging for attention.

“that's it... show off for us,” suguru commands, smacking one plump mound before leaning down to capture a nipple between his teeth. a sharp intake of breath escapes him as he suckles on the sensitive bud vigorously, drawing it deeper into his mouth while continuing to pound relentlessly into your dripping slit below.

your orgasm hits like a freight train, causing your entire frame to convulse violently as waves upon waves of pleasure crash over you. suguru rides out your climax alongside you, his own release imminent as he finally gives in to the overwhelming urge to fill you up.

“you're going to cum for us, aren't ya?”

“p-please, i wanna cum,” you begged.

“you're such a good girl. . .” suguru murmurs appreciatively, leaning down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. a sharp tug sends sparks shooting straight to your core, amplifying the growing coil of tension there. his fingers work tirelessly on your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud while driving you closer and closer toward obliviation. each stroke draws another moan from deep within your throat— loud enough for both men to hear clearly.

as suguru's relentless pounding drives you closer and closer to the edge, you can barely think straight. all rational thought leaves your mind as waves of pleasure ripple through your body. and then, without warning, everything snaps into focus.

“suguru... i'm—” you whimper, unable to finish your sentence. your body trembles under their combined weight, each thrust driving deeper than the last until it feels like you're being split apart from within. suddenly, without warning, your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave. your pussy clenches tightly around suguru's throbbing member as pleasure explodes throughout your entire being, rendering you momentarily speechless.

“s-shit!” you cry out loudly, throwing your head back and letting loose a series of high-pitched screams that echo throughout the room. as your pussy spasms wildly around his thrusting cock, suguru's climax crests, triggering a torrent of hot semen to flood your insides. “there . . . my, good baby,” he groans deeply, the sound muffled against your breast as he buries his face in your cleavage, his hips stuttering erratically as he empties himself into you.

through it all, satoru watches intently, his dick throbbing with need as he frantically jerks himself off, coating his fist in copious amounts of precum. the sight of suguru losing control and filling you up is too much for him to bear, and with a strangled cry, he finally allows himself to cum, painting his stomach with thick ropes of jizz as he rides out his intense orgasm.

suguru's grip tightens on your hip as he rides out his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up with his warm seed. each spurt sends another wave of pleasure coursing through his body, causing him to shudder uncontrollably. his breathing comes in ragged gasps as he slowly regains control over his senses, doesn't get a chance to pull his dick out before your pussy clenches around and slightly leans down towards satoru, taking his dick into your mouth as you clean his cum.

satoru's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your mouth envelop his still-hardening cock, but he doesn't protest. instead, a low moan escapes his throat as he leans back against the pillows, enjoying the sensation of your warm, wet tongue lapping up the remnants of his release. satoru looks on, a mix of awe and desire etched on his features as he watches you service his boyfriend so eagerly. his own spent cock twitches in response, already beginning to stir anew at the erotic display unfolding before him.

satoru lets out a low moan as he feels your lips enveloping his still-hard length, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back. “that's right, take care of me,” he whispers huskily, his voice laced with satisfaction and arousal. he watches with half-lidded eyes as you bob your head up and down along his shaft, cleaning away every trace of his cum. the sensation of having you suckle on him after such an intense session sends another surge of desire coursing through him.

“mmm, just like that, baby,” suguru encourages, gently guiding your head as you bob up and down along his length. “show satoru what a good little cocksucker you are.” satoru lets out a low moan as he feels your lips enveloping his still-hard length, his fingers tracing lazy patterns across your back.

feeling your lips envelop his still-hard length ups and downs, satoru lets out a low moan of satisfaction. je leans back against the back of the couch, his fingers gently combing through your hair as you take care of cleaning him up. “god, that feels incredible,” he murmurs appreciatively, his other hand lightly stroking your cheek. “you really know how to take care of a man, don't you?” his glossy lips flashing you a lazy smile.

suguru fell on the couch beside you, watching you going up and down toward satoru with your knees buried in the soft material. the sight of you kneeling between them, taking care of both their needs simultaneously is enough to make suguru's heart swell with pride and affection. he reaches out a hand, brushing it gently over your backside as he watches you work diligently on satoru's cock.

“just look at you,“ he purrs approvingly, his gaze locked onto the erotic scene unfolding before him. “so beautiful and devoted.” his thumb brushes teasingly over the sensitive skin just above where datoru enters your mouth, adding another layer of sensation to an already overwhelming experience. despite being thoroughly spent, there's no denying that seeing you like this has reignited something deep within him.

you pull satoru's dick out of your lip with a ’bop', cleaning all of his cum from his dick. a satisfied hum vibrates out of satoru's lips. his thumb gently caresses your lower lips before licking the remaining cum, smiling as you flop beside suguru with satoru following along beside you. your eyes are closed as you try to catch your breath. with a contented sigh, satoru leans back against the couch, his chest heaving slightly as he catches his breath. his eyes remain fixed on you, a warm, appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“thank you, baby,” he says softly, reaching out to gently stroke your cheek once more. “you always know just what to do to make me feel so good.” suguru moves to sit up properly, his gaze never leaving yours. there's a spark of desire in his eyes, a promise of more to come.

“so, what do you say we order some pizza and watch a movie together? we can cuddle up on the couch and just relax for a bit,” he suggests, his voice low and inviting. “unless you have something else in mind, of course...” satoru kisses your shoulder “let her rest first baby, she is doing a great job today,” suguru chirped, sweeping away the sweat on your forehead. he leans down to give the white-haired man a wholehearted peck.

satoru nods in agreement, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on suguru's lips. “you're right, let's give her a break for now,” he agrees, his voice soft and soothing. “we can always have another round later if she's up for it.” he turns his attention back to you, offering you a warm, comforting smile. “why don't you go take a nice long bath and relax for a while? we'll bring you some food and snacks, and then we can curl up together on the couch for a movie marathon.”

you were panting softly, your vision still a little hazy from the intense pleasure. your body felt both tired and relaxed. you took his suggestion gladly, knowing you needed to take it slow. “that sounds lovely,” you responded, sitting up, still feeling a bit lightheaded. “can you help me get up?” satoru smiles softly, immediately moving to your side to help you up, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist to support you.

suguru helps satoru assist you up from the floor, supporting you gently as you wobble on shaky legs. “there's my good girl,” suguru coos, guiding you toward the bathroom. “go take care of yourself, we've got everything under control here.”

“look at you, always so sensitive even when we are gentle with you,” he teases, giving your shoulder a light kiss. you let out a soft huff as you roll your eyes, but secretly enjoy the teasing. “and you two are always so demanding,” you respond with a hint of sass, trying to maintain your usual banter. satoru chuckles, his shoulders shaking slightly as a laugh. “hey, can you blame us? you always look and sound too damn good when we touch you,” he responds, giving your waist a small squeeze.

your blush deepens at his words, a mixture of embarrassment and flattery. you try to brush it off, replying with a slightly sarcastic tone. “oh, shut up and get me to the bathroom already.” suguru is walking behind both of you, shaking his head fondly. they both knew just how to push your buttons in the best ways possible.

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baelabong · 7 months ago

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𝖡𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗋𝖾

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Pairing: glp Karina x fem!reader

Note: sequel to twisted devotion

Warning: emotional?! No protection (wrap it up yall) crying rina, asshole y/n, mentions of ningning

Word count: 1.3k

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“A-anything! I’ll do anything!”, Jimin pleaded with doe eyes staring down into your own

You almost scoff in amusement but instead your smile faltered, loving the way she was so pathetic for you.

Leaning up and just grazing your lips over her ears, your hot breath fanning on her skin making the hairs at the back of her neck rise, you say with a small whisper

“Then fuck me”, with a small smile you pull back with an innocent expression

Nodding her head eagerly like a little kid, she presses herself closer against you as you reach down her boxers grabbing her limp dick. Ss if on cue, her dick hardened under your touch, your eyes widening in amusement.

“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this monster from me for so long, rina”, she shuts her eyes, suppressing back a moan from your own words

Grabbing her face with your free hand, you harshly grab her chin forcing her to open her eyes and look at you. The sight of Jimin with lidded eyes made you so wet you almost lost your patience and wanted her to fuck you.

But no. Letting out an amused chuckle you whisper a small “pathetic” while giving her that same innocent look in your eyes.

“Fuck me Jimin. Fuck me so hard I can’t walk”

An idea entering your mind you smash your lips against hers, tiptoeing to reach her tall figure, almost making the two of you fall back against the bed.

You pull away breathlessly and say

“Fuck me … like how Ningning fucks me”

In that moment, Karina's eyes darkened, a fierce possessiveness taking over her usually gentle demeanor. The mention of Ningning ignited something primal within her, and her grip on your hips tightened. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered in a low, commanding tone.

"You're mine tonight. Only mine."

With a swift motion, she lifted you up effortlessly, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down gently but with a sense of urgency. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as if she was trying to memorize the feel of your skin. The intensity of her touch sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel the anticipation building within you.

Karina's lips found yours again, this time more fervently, her kiss filled with a mix of desire and determination. Her hands moved with purpose, sliding down your body and pulling away any barriers between you. She took a moment to admire you, her eyes drinking in the sight of you laid bare before her.

"You’re so beautiful," she murmured, her voice husky with need.

She positioned herself above you, her gaze locking with yours. The connection between you felt electric, a current of longing and passion flowing between you. Karina's hand moved to guide herself, her eyes never leaving yours as she entered you slowly, inch by inch, savoring the sensation.

Your back arched, a moan escaping your lips as she filled you completely. The feeling of her inside you, combined with the intensity of her gaze, made you feel more connected than ever. Karina began to move, her thrusts deep and deliberate, each one eliciting a gasp from you.

"Tell me how it feels," she demanded, her voice a mix of authority and tenderness.

"So good," you managed to say between breaths, your hands gripping the sheets as she increased her pace.

Karina's movements became more urgent, driven by both the desire to please you and the need to assert her dominance. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body responding eagerly to her every touch.

"You're mine," she repeated, her voice thick with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

The intensity of her words and the relentless pleasure she was giving you pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Karina followed soon after, her own release a powerful testament to the connection you shared.

As you both lay there, breathless and spent, Karina pulled you close, her arms wrapped protectively around you. The fierceness in her eyes had softened, replaced by a tender affection.

"You're mine," she whispered once more, her lips brushing against your forehead. "And I love you."

You smiled, feeling a profound sense of contentment. "I love you too, Jimin."

Karina’s embrace tightened around you, her breathing slowly evening out. But the spark of desire in her eyes hadn’t diminished. She shifted slightly, her lips finding yours in a tender, lingering kiss.

“I need you again,” she whispered against your lips, her voice trembling with emotion. “I need to show you how much I love you.”

You nodded, your own desire reigniting at her words. Karina moved over you once more, her touch gentle yet insistent. She guided herself back inside you, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. This time, there was a softness in her actions, a vulnerability that made your heart ache with affection.

As Karina thrust into you, tears began to well up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her so emotional, so open, only made you love her more.

“You’re everything to me,” she choked out, her voice breaking. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, and kissed her tears away, your lips brushing gently against her damp skin. “I’m not going anywhere, Jimin. I’m right here with you.”

Karina’s pace quickened, the urgency in her movements matched by the raw emotion in her eyes. Each thrust was a declaration of her love, a promise of her devotion. You could feel her trembling, her tears mixing with the sweat on her skin.

“Stay with me,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with emotion. “Please, just stay with me.”

“I will,” you assured her, your hands sliding down her back, holding her close. “I’ll always be with you.”

Karina’s tears continued to fall, her sobs mingling with the sounds of your lovemaking. The intensity of her emotions fueled her movements, driving her to bring you both to the edge once more. As you felt yourself nearing climax, you held her tighter, wanting to give her everything you had.

With a final, shuddering thrust, Karina pushed you both over the edge. Your orgasms hit simultaneously, a powerful wave of pleasure and emotion crashing over you. She collapsed onto you, her body wracked with sobs, and you held her close, whispering soothing words in her ear.

“It’s okay, Jimin,” you murmured, kissing her tear-streaked face. “I’m here. I love you.”

Karina’s sobs slowly subsided, her breathing evening out as she clung to you. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “More than anything.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for the woman in your arms. “We’re in this together, Jimin. Always.”

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that no matter what challenges you faced, your love for each other would always see you through. And in that moment, with Karina’s tears still fresh on your lips, you felt an unbreakable bond between you.

#fem reader #aespa karina #karina x reader #karina #aespa kpop #aespa #aespa x reader #aespa icons #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin #jimin #kpop #reader insert #kpop girls

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dreamersworldduh · 13 days ago

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CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE

• DEAN WINCHESTER x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — In the dangerous, chaotic world of hunting, you and Dean Winchester found solace in a friends-with-benefits arrangement—a simple, no-strings connection to escape the relentless weight of your shared lives. Dean, a man who kept his emotions locked behind walls built from years of pain and loss, treated attachments as liabilities and avoided vulnerability at all costs. Yet, you became the exception.

Your sharp wit, unwavering confidence, and ability to see through his bravado slipped past his defenses, offering him a sense of stability he didn't know he needed. While he tried to convince himself that your relationship was purely physical, the truth was far more profound. You mattered to him in ways he couldn't deny, grounding him in a life defined by chaos. Against his own rules, Dean found himself holding onto the one connection he couldn't let go.

WARNING! FLUFF. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing. Violence.

WORDS! 9.8k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Okay, I have a confession—I have never seen Supernatural! Which is weird because I loveeee any show or movie dealing with the supernatural! However, I seen read plenty of Jensen Ackles fics, enough to fall in love with the gruff hunter, Mr Dean Winchester. Boy, oh, boy. He’s a tough one, so here’s something to melt your heart!😉✨

The story of how you and Dean Winchester became entwined is far from conventional—though it began in the simplest, most unremarkable way. In the unforgiving world of hunters, where every day was a gamble with life and death, and the weight of your duty pressed heavily on your shoulders, finding moments of relief wasn't just a luxury; it was survival. For you and Dean, that relief took the form of a shared understanding—an arrangement born out of mutual need: friends with benefits. No emotional messiness, no strings attached. Just two weary souls seeking solace in each other's company, finding fleeting comfort amid the chaos.

And if there was anyone who could embody that kind of arrangement, it was Dean Winchester. Ruggedly handsome in a way that seemed almost cinematic, Dean exuded a raw masculinity that was both infuriating and magnetic. His confidence was disarming, his smirk a challenge, and his green eyes held the kind of mischief that dared you to keep up. He was a man of contradictions: a relentless hunter who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders but masked his pain with crude humor and unapologetic charm. He had a talent for turning even the most innocent remark into a sexual innuendo, a penchant for classic rock, and an encyclopedic knowledge of pop culture references that would have been impressive if it weren't so distracting. And, of course, there was his unashamed fondness for pornography—a fact he made no effort to hide, even when it made you roll your eyes.

Dean wasn't someone who let people get too close. He had built walls around himself, reinforced by years of trauma, heartache, and the gnawing fear that attachments only brought more pain. Women came and went from his life, their names forgotten as quickly as they were learned, serving as fleeting distractions from the shadows that seemed to follow him everywhere. He had rules—strict, self-imposed boundaries that kept him from caring too much, feeling too deeply. But then there was you. And somehow, without even trying, you became the exception to every one of those rules.

Maybe it was the way you carried yourself in the heat of battle—calm, collected, and fiercely determined. Or perhaps it was your sharp wit, the way you could meet his sarcasm with a quip of your own, effortlessly keeping him on his toes. You challenged him, called him out on his nonsense, and refused to let him get away with his usual bravado. There was a spark between you, an undeniable chemistry that ignited every time you were in the same room. It wasn't just physical, though that was certainly part of it. There was something deeper, something intangible that drew him to you like a moth to a flame.

Dean couldn't ignore the way you made him feel—how your presence seemed to ground him, even when everything else in his life was spiraling out of control. You weren't just a convenient distraction or a fleeting fling. You were a rare constant in a life defined by chaos and loss. And though he might never admit it, not even to himself, Dean found himself captivated by you. Not just your striking features or your commanding presence—though those certainly didn't hurt—but by something deeper. Something he couldn't quite name, but that made him break every rule he had so carefully built to protect himself. Something that made him keep coming back, again and again, to you.

You had an undeniable effect on Dean—an effect so consuming, so all-encompassing, that it shattered any expectations he'd ever had about what someone could mean to him. You weren't just someone he wanted, someone he found attractive or compelling. You were a craving, a fire that burned through his veins and refused to be extinguished, no matter how much he tried to rationalize it. You were in his thoughts constantly, lingering like the hum of a well-tuned engine, always there, even when he didn't want to admit it. You weren't just a desire; you were an addiction—intoxicating, irresistible, and impossible to replace. And the truth? Dean didn't want to escape it. He welcomed the way you consumed him, as terrifying as it might have been.

There was something about you that defied explanation, a magnetic pull that went beyond physical attraction or fleeting infatuation. Maybe it was the way you could match him stride for stride, meeting his sarcasm and teasing head-on with that sharp, wicked smirk that drove him insane. You weren't intimidated by his bravado, his wit, or his rough edges—instead, you seemed to thrive on the challenge of keeping up with him, throwing his words back at him with twice the fire. Dean wasn't used to that. He wasn't used to someone who didn't just tolerate his roughness but met it with their own, blending seamlessly into the rhythm of his life like you'd always been there.

But it wasn't just the banter or the chemistry that set you apart. It was the way your presence made everything feel... lighter. For a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, who lived every day knowing death was just a step behind, you were his reprieve. The chaos and noise of hunting—the relentless guilt, the endless responsibility—felt a little less suffocating when you were around. With you, the world didn't seem quite so heavy. You didn't just make life bearable; you made it worth the fight, worth the endless sacrifices and heartaches. And that was something Dean hadn't felt in longer than he cared to admit.

The thought of losing you? It was more than unbearable—it was terrifying. Dean was no stranger to loss; it was a constant, unyielding shadow in his life, stealing everything he held dear. But the idea of losing you wasn't like anything he'd faced before. It wasn't just grief or sadness he imagined—it was devastation. The thought of you walking out of his life, of your laugh, your presence, your fire disappearing, left a hollow ache in his chest that he couldn't ignore. Losing you wouldn't just hurt—it would break him in a way he wasn't sure he could come back from.

So no, you weren't going anywhere. Not if Dean had anything to say about it. He wasn't the kind of man who easily held onto people—his life was messy, dangerous, and far too uncertain. But for you, he would make an exception. He had to. Because somehow, in the chaos of his life, you had become his anchor, the one thing he could hold onto when everything else seemed to spin out of control. You were his constant, the steady presence that reminded him why he kept fighting, why he hadn't given up. And though he might not be the best at showing it, Dean Winchester would do whatever it took to keep you by his side. Because the thought of losing you? That wasn't just unbearable—it was unthinkable. You weren't just someone to him. You were everything.

When it came to you, Dean Winchester didn't just care—he claimed. His protectiveness wasn't a casual thing, nor was it something he apologized for. It was fierce, unapologetic, and at times downright terrifying. He didn't just watch over you; he guarded you with the intensity of a man who had lost too much already and refused to lose again. The idea of anyone even speaking ill of you was enough to make his jaw clench and his green eyes harden with that razor-sharp, dangerous glint that made most people back off without him having to say a word. Disrespect you? Hurt you? They'd better pray Dean didn't hear about it—because when it came to you, there was no forgiveness, only retribution.

It didn't matter that you didn't need protecting. Dean knew you were strong—hell, he'd seen it up close. You weren't just capable; you were a force of nature. He'd watched you take down monsters with a precision and ferocity that left even the most hardened hunters slack-jawed. You handled yourself with confidence and skill, and there was a fire in you that burned so brightly it was impossible to ignore. You didn't need anyone to save you—you'd made that clear from day one. But that didn't stop Dean. It wasn't about whether you needed him; it was about the fact that he needed to be there for you.

Dean had your back in every possible way. He wasn't just a partner in battle; he was an unmovable presence in your life, standing by you like an unshakable wall. He was the first to step forward when things got rough, the first to take a hit so you wouldn't have to, the first to make it clear to anyone who dared cross a line that you weren't someone to mess with. Whether it was stepping in with a cutting remark to shut someone down, fixing that steely glare on a threat, or physically putting himself between you and danger, Dean made sure the message was clear: you were untouchable. On his watch, no one—human or otherwise—would get close enough to hurt you.

But his devotion ran deeper than just physical protection. Dean wasn't just your shield in the field; he was your unwavering support in every part of your life. He stood by you in the quiet moments, too, watching your six not just on the battlefield but in every room, every situation. You'd catch him scanning a crowd, making sure no one was getting too close, too loud, too bold. He didn't need to say a word; his presence was enough. The way he hovered just a bit closer when tensions rose or the way his gaze darted to you when you entered a room spoke volumes. It wasn't just about keeping you safe—it was about making sure you knew you weren't alone. That no matter what came your way, he was right there, ten toes down, ready to stand between you and anything that threatened you.

Dean Winchester might have been a lot of things—brash, stubborn, and infuriatingly sarcastic—but when it came to you, he was steady, loyal, and relentless. His care for you wasn't loud or flashy; it was in the little things. In the way he made sure you had a hot meal after a long hunt. In the way he double-checked that the weapons you carried were in perfect condition. In the way his hand would find your arm or your shoulder when words weren't enough to say, I've got you.

Because when Dean cared, he cared with everything he had. He didn't do half-measures or halfway devotion. You were his person—his anchor, his partner, his everything—and he wasn't about to let anyone forget it. He'd fight for you, bleed for you, and, if it ever came down to it, he'd die for you without hesitation. Because you weren't just important to him—you were everything. And Dean Winchester never let go of what mattered most.

Tonight, Dean Winchester was a man on a mission. It wasn't about hunting monsters or saving the world—though those things had their place. Tonight was about you, about making sure you understood, without question, just how much you meant to him. Grand gestures and sweeping declarations weren't Dean's style. He wasn't the guy who showered someone with roses or planned elaborate candlelit dinners. No, Dean expressed himself through dry humor, protective instincts, and those rare moments when he let his guard slip, showing the vulnerability he kept locked away. But tonight was different. Tonight, he was determined to show you, in his own way, that you weren't just someone in his life—you were the someone.

Even Sam and Castiel couldn't hide their surprise at the effort Dean was putting into planning something special. Sam had raised an eyebrow when Dean muttered something about setting aside some time and needing things to go "just right." Castiel, ever the curious observer, had tilted his head, his unblinking gaze silently analyzing this rare glimpse of Dean's softer side. After all, this was the same man who thought a six-pack of beer and a slice of pie was romantic gold. Yet here he was, mapping out a plan to make sure you felt appreciated, loved, and understood.

Unfortunately, as was often the case in your world, life had other plans. Before Dean could even begin to set his night in motion, the three of you—Dean, Sam, and yourself—caught wind of a small pack of vampires preying on a nearby town. The hunt couldn't wait. Innocent lives were at stake, and in true Winchester fashion, the mission had to come first. Castiel had been ready to join you, but angelic duties had called him away, leaving the three of you to gear up and face the threat alone. The trunk of the Impala was quickly filled with machetes, bottles of dead man's blood, and the familiar weight of yet another dangerous night.

Despite the sudden change of plans, Dean wasn't about to let the hunt derail everything. Even as the three of you strategized, his attention lingered on you in ways that spoke volumes. He handed you a weapon with a brush of his fingers that lingered just a little too long to be casual. His jokes, aimed at breaking the tension, were always delivered with a glance in your direction, his eyes sparkling with something deeper than humor.

The three of you—Dean, Sam, and yourself—pushed cautiously into the abandoned mansion, the heavy wooden doors groaning under their own weight as they creaked open. The air that greeted you was suffocatingly stale, carrying the acrid stench of rot and mildew that made your stomach turn. The grandeur of the once-stately home was long gone, replaced by decay and neglect. The intricate carvings on the wooden banister were chipped and splintered, the elegant chandeliers dangled precariously, and the faded remnants of wallpaper peeled from the walls like forgotten memories.

Dean moved on your right, his machete glinting faintly in the dim shafts of moonlight filtering through shattered windows. His body was a study in controlled tension, each step deliberate, his green eyes scanning the shadowed corridors for the slightest hint of movement. To your left, Sam's towering form moved with equal precision, his flashlight sweeping over the debris-strewn floors and gaping doorways. You could feel the charged silence between the three of you, the unspoken knowledge that danger was lurking in the dark.

The herd of vampires you'd been tracking was somewhere in this sprawling labyrinth, and the unease in your gut only deepened as you ventured further inside. Years of hunting had sharpened your instincts, and right now, every nerve in your body screamed that you were being watched. The oppressive quiet pressed in on you, broken only by the creak of the warped floorboards beneath your boots and the distant drip of water echoing through the cavernous space.

"We should split up," you suggested in a low voice, your words cutting through the heavy silence.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks, turning to you with an incredulous glare. His jaw tightened, and his voice was a low growl as he snapped, "That's the dumbest idea I've heard all week. And that's saying something."

You met his sharp gaze with calm defiance. "The house is too big, Dean. If we stick together, we'll be here all night, and they'll have time to scatter. Splitting up means we cover more ground faster."

Sam tilted his head, his brow furrowing as he considered your point. "He's not wrong," he offered cautiously. "If we stick to a plan—stay in contact and regroup at the first sign of trouble—we might have a better chance of catching them off guard."

Dean let out a heavy sigh, gripping his machete like he wanted to argue but couldn't find the words to refute you both. "Fine," he muttered, though his expression left no doubt he hated the idea. "But if either of you gets in over your head, you call. I mean it. No hero crap."

With a reluctant nod from Dean, the three of you split up. Sam headed toward the grand staircase, his flashlight sweeping over the crumbling steps as he ascended to the second floor. Dean veered off toward the eastern wing, muttering something under his breath about bad ideas. That left you with the western halls—a maze of decaying doorways and shadowy passageways that seemed to stretch endlessly into the dark.

The deeper you ventured, the heavier the atmosphere became. The walls seemed to close in, the corridors twisting and intersecting in a way that made you question whether the mansion's design had been intentional or the result of time warping its structure. Your machete felt solid in your grip, a reassuring weight against the growing tension.

When you stepped into a large library, the air felt different—heavier, charged with a faint energy that raised the hairs on the back of your neck. Rows of dusty shelves loomed around you, their contents long forgotten and crumbling. A massive window at the far end of the room was cracked and fogged with grime, letting in just enough light to cast eerie shadows.

Then you saw it—a flicker of movement in the corner of your eye. You froze, your heart hammering as you tightened your grip on your weapon. Slowly, you turned, scanning the room with practiced precision. That's when you spotted him.

A figure emerged from the shadows, leaning casually against one of the bookshelves as if he had all the time in the world. He was tall and lean, his pale skin giving him an almost ghostly appearance in the dim light. His dark hair was slicked back, framing sharp, angular features that were only accentuated by the smirk curling at the corner of his lips. But it was his eyes that held your attention—cold, calculating, and predatory, glinting with an unsettling mix of amusement and hunger.

"Well, well," he drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with mockery. "A hunter, all alone. What a delightful surprise."

The vampire prowled around you, his movements unnervingly fluid and calculated, each step deliberate as though he were savoring the moment. His sharp, piercing gaze raked over you, studying you with an intensity that felt invasive, as if he could see right through you. The smirk tugging at the corner of his lips hinted at amusement—or perhaps satisfaction—but there was no mistaking the predatory gleam in his eyes.

Your grip on the machete tightened, its weight steady in your hand, a much-needed anchor in this tense standoff. You held your stance firm, but your mind was a whirlwind of calculations. He wasn't lunging, wasn't snarling, and yet his every movement radiated menace. He was toying with you, a predator testing its prey. But why? That lingering question gnawed at the edges of your mind.

"Tell me," he drawled, his voice like velvet, smooth and disarmingly calm. "What brings you here, hunter? Were you foolish enough to wander in alone? Or are you just that brave?" His tone was mocking, but there was something underneath—curiosity, perhaps? Intrigue?

You didn't answer, your eyes tracking him as he circled. Silence was your shield; words could give too much away. He noticed your refusal to speak and chuckled, a low, rich sound that made your skin crawl.

"Ah, the silent treatment," he said, feigning disappointment. "That's fine. Silence can be... telling." He stopped briefly, tilting his head as though examining a puzzle piece he couldn't quite figure out. "But you're different, aren't you? Not like the others. There's something... unique about you."

His eyes gleamed with a strange intensity as he resumed his slow circling. You could feel the air shift around him, heavy and charged, as though the room itself was reacting to his presence. Most vampires you'd encountered had been feral, desperate creatures, attacking with reckless abandon or fleeing when cornered. But this one? This one was composed, confident—dangerously so.

You couldn't ignore the questions clawing at the edges of your mind. If he was here alone, where was the rest of his nest? Vampires didn't operate solo, especially not leaders. And you were certain this one was the leader. His calm, his control, the way he carried himself—it all screamed authority. But if that was the case, why wasn't he surrounded by his kin? And more importantly, where was his mate? Vampires who lived long enough to lead a nest often had a mate—a partner as strong and cunning as themselves. The absence of one was glaring.

Your eyes darted subtly around the room, searching for any sign of movement in the dense shadows. The room was vast, its corners dark and endless, offering countless places for another vampire to hide. If his mate was here, they could strike at any moment. Or was he truly alone? The possibilities buzzed in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last.

"Looking for something?" he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. He had caught the flicker of your gaze, and his smirk deepened. "Or someone, perhaps?" He leaned in slightly, his movements so smooth they were almost imperceptible. "If they're here, you'll meet them soon enough."

You refused to flinch under his scrutiny, your resolve unwavering as you met his gaze. But there was something disarming about the way he looked at you, as if he were searching for something deeper, peeling back layers you weren't even aware of. And then there was that other look—the faintest flicker of admiration, or something more unsettling. Attraction, perhaps? Whatever it was, it left you uneasy.

"What do you want?" you asked finally, your voice sharp and steady, cutting through the thick tension like a blade.

He stopped circling, standing just a few feet away now, his smirk softening into something more calculating. "What do I want?" he echoed, his tone almost playful. "For now? I want to know more about you. You've intrigued me, hunter. There's a strength in you, something I haven't seen in a very long time. Something rare."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. You didn't rise to the bait, keeping your expression neutral, your weapon steady. He was trying to disarm you, to draw you into a game you didn't intend to play. But his calm demeanor only made him more dangerous. He wasn't like the others you'd hunted—this one was intelligent, deliberate, and playing a game with stakes you couldn't yet see.

"You're stalling," you said, narrowing your eyes. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it by now."

His chuckle was soft, but it carried a dark edge. "Kill you? Oh no, hunter. You're far too interesting for that. Besides," he added, his eyes gleaming with a predatory glint, "I have a feeling this is just the beginning. I'd hate to waste such... potential."

The male vampire took a deliberate step closer, his smirk curling into something darker, more predatory. His eyes gleamed with an intensity that felt almost magnetic, holding your gaze as though he could bend your will with a look alone. Yet, there was an undeniable allure beneath the menace, a strange charisma that made your skin crawl even as it piqued your unease.

"You know," he began, his voice low and smooth, laced with a chilling kind of seduction, "you would make a magnificent vampire. Strong. Clever. Fearless. Qualities like yours don't come along every day." His pale fingers hovered near yours, not quite touching but close enough to make you hyperaware of his presence. "Imagine it. No more running, no more mortal limitations. You and I—forever. Doesn't that sound... enticing?"

The words sank like ice into your mind, freezing your blood as you processed his absurd proposition. Your grip on your machete tightened, the familiar weight anchoring you against the storm of implications behind his offer. Yet before you could summon a response—sarcastic, angry, or otherwise—the tension in the room shattered with a thunderous crash.

The door behind the vampire burst open, slamming into the wall with a crack that echoed through the decaying mansion. A blonde woman stormed in, her every movement radiating fury and disbelief. Her striking features were sharp as a blade, her golden eyes glowing with a mix of rage and disdain. She carried herself with the authority of someone who was used to being obeyed—or feared.

"Elliot," she snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a whip, "what the hell are you doing?"

The male vampire—Elliot, apparently—stiffened briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in irritation before he turned to her with a calmness that only deepened the tension. "Ah, Celeste," he said smoothly, his tone laced with mock surprise. "You're earlier than expected."

"Clearly," she shot back, her voice dripping with venom. Her fiery gaze darted between you and Elliot, her scowl deepening. "What is this?" She gestured at you, her tone sharp enough to flay skin. "Are you seriously flirting with a hunter? Have you lost your damn mind?"

Elliot exhaled a long-suffering sigh, running a hand through his dark hair as though Celeste's arrival was the greatest inconvenience of his night. "Flirting?" he repeated, his voice tinged with exasperation. "You misread the situation. I'm making an offer."

Her laugh was sharp and bitter, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "An offer? You're trying to turn him, aren't you? Don't even try to deny it."

Elliot's smirk returned, this time more amused than predatory. "And what if I am?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk. "He's exceptional, Celeste. Even you can see that."

The color drained from her face, her fury briefly giving way to stunned disbelief. "You're insane," she hissed. "We've been together for decades, and now you're ready to toss me aside for some random hunter? Is that it?"

Elliot turned to her fully, his expression hardening, the amusement fading into something colder. "Decades of convenience, Celeste," he said bluntly, his tone like a blade cutting through the air. "Don't mistake what we've had for something it's not."

Her face twisted in a mixture of pain and fury, her fangs flashing as she stepped closer to him. "You bastard," she spat, her voice trembling with emotion. "You used me. All this time, you used me."

"You were useful," Elliot said flatly, his voice devoid of sympathy. "But don't delude yourself into thinking you were anything more."

Celeste's golden eyes burned with rage as she turned her attention to you, her expression venomous. "This is your fault," she snarled, pointing a finger at you. "You've bewitched him somehow, haven't you? But it doesn't matter—you're dead. Tonight."

She took a step forward, her fury boiling over, but Elliot moved faster. He stepped between you and Celeste with a speed that made your heart skip, his posture rigid and his voice low and dangerous. "Enough," he said, the word cutting through her rage like a command. "You will not touch him."

Her laugh was a harsh bark of disbelief. "You're protecting him? A hunter? Against me?"

Elliot's gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "He's not just any hunter. He's mine."

The possessiveness in his words made your stomach churn, your unease mounting as the energy in the room shifted. It was colder now, heavier, as though his claim had weight beyond the spoken word. You could feel the power in him, raw and oppressive, pressing against you like an unseen force.

Celeste stared at him, her chest heaving with suppressed fury. "You've lost your mind," she whispered, her voice trembling with rage and disbelief. "You'll regret this. Both of you."

Suddenly, the room exploded in a flash of violence as Celeste's head was severed cleanly from her shoulders. There was no warning—just a swift blur of silver and the sickening sound of blade slicing through flesh and bone. Her head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling to a stop, while her body crumpled in a lifeless heap. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood as the shock of what had just happened settled in.

You barely had time to process the scene before your gaze locked on the source of the attack: Dean Winchester, standing tall and unapologetic, his machete glistening with blood. His green eyes burned with a sharp, unyielding intensity, his smirk laced with the kind of swagger that only Dean could pull off.

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt your little soap opera," Dean said, his voice heavy with sarcasm as he stepped forward. He gestured casually with his bloodied weapon, as if he hadn't just executed a vampire mid-argument. "But let's make one thing clear: he's spoken for."

Elliot's body stiffened, his expression shifting from shock to pure, unbridled fury. He snapped his head toward Dean, the calm facade he'd worn earlier disintegrating in an instant. His dark eyes burned with hatred, and his lips peeled back to reveal his fangs, sharp and glistening. "You dare interfere?" he snarled, his voice low and menacing, practically vibrating with rage. "You'll regret that."

Dean, utterly unfazed, rolled his shoulders and adjusted his grip on the machete. His smirk widened, his voice dripping with cocky defiance. "Big talk for a guy who just lost his girlfriend," he quipped. "What's wrong? Did I ruin your plan to turn him into your eternal cuddle buddy?"

Elliot's face twisted in rage, his entire frame vibrating with barely contained energy. His movements were sharp and predatory as he took a menacing step toward Dean. The temperature in the room seemed to drop, the air around him growing heavier as he prepared to strike. He wasn't just angry—he was an apex predator on the verge of attack, his supernatural strength and speed radiating off him in waves.

Dean didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his machete gleaming in the dim light as he squared his shoulders. "Bring it on, Dracula," he growled, his tone daring.

That was all the invitation Elliot needed. He lunged, moving so quickly he was almost a blur. His hand shot out to strike, claws extended, but Dean sidestepped at the last second, swinging his machete in a wide arc. The blade connected with a shallow slice across Elliot's arm, drawing blood. Elliot hissed, barely fazed, and spun back around with terrifying speed, his claws slashing through the air where Dean's throat had been just moments earlier.

The fight was brutal and relentless, their movements a chaotic dance of strength and strategy. Elliot's supernatural speed and power were staggering; he moved with inhuman precision, every strike aimed to kill. Dean, however, was no stranger to impossible odds. He moved with the practiced skill of a man who had faced death more times than he could count. His blows were calculated, his every movement a mix of grit and raw determination.

The sound of their battle filled the room—the clash of steel, heavy footfalls, the occasional grunt of pain. Elliot's strength was overwhelming, and at one point, he caught Dean by the arm and threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. Dean crashed into a bookshelf, the wood shattering under the impact, but he was on his feet again in seconds. He wiped blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning through the pain. "That all you got?" he taunted, his voice low and daring.

Elliot snarled, his eyes glowing faintly as he lunged again, this time aiming for Dean's chest. Dean ducked just in time, bringing his machete up in a swift upward strike. The blade bit into Elliot's chest, leaving a deep, searing wound. The vampire howled in pain, staggering back, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He retaliated with a backhanded strike, his claws catching Dean across the shoulder and sending him stumbling.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding as the fight raged on. Dean was holding his own, but barely. Elliot's supernatural strength was wearing him down, each counterattack forcing Dean closer to the edge. You wanted to jump in, to even the odds, but before you could move, Dean's sharp gaze found yours.

"Stay back," he barked, his voice firm and unyielding, despite the strain in his expression. Blood trickled down his arm, staining his shirt, but his resolve was unshaken. "I've got this."

Elliot's head snapped toward you, his cruel smirk returning. "How noble," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Trying to protect him? You can't even protect yourself."

Dean's jaw tightened, and without hesitation, he lunged forward with a roar, swinging his machete with every ounce of strength he had left. The fight wasn't over—not yet. And if you knew anything about Dean Winchester, it was that he wouldn't stop until the vampire was dead, even if it killed him in the process.

Dean was struggling, his movements growing slower, more desperate with every swing of his machete. Elliot was relentless, dodging each strike with inhuman speed, his attacks growing bolder and more calculated. The vampire wasn't just fighting—he was toying with Dean, circling him like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. Blood trickled down Dean's forehead from a cut just above his brow, the crimson streak stark against his pale skin. His chest heaved with labored breaths, his shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion, but he refused to stop. Refused to give up.

Elliot's smirk deepened, his predatory eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "You've got grit, I'll give you that," he drawled, his voice laced with mockery as he stepped closer. "But let's be honest—you're out of your league, hunter. Look at you. You're barely standing."

Dean's lips curled into a snarl, his knuckles whitening as he gripped his machete tighter. "Yeah? Well, I've taken down worse than you," he shot back, though the quaver in his voice betrayed just how close he was to his limit.

Elliot chuckled darkly, his fangs catching the dim light as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. "Oh, I doubt that," he sneered. "But don't worry. I'll make this quick." He paused, his smirk turning even crueler. "Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll let you watch while I turn your little friend. Make you see what he becomes."

Those words lit a fire in Dean's eyes, his rage momentarily overriding his exhaustion. With a roar, he lunged forward, swinging his machete in a wide, desperate arc. But Elliot was faster. He caught Dean's wrist mid-swing, twisting it sharply until the blade clattered to the ground. Dean barely had a chance to react before Elliot's other hand shot out, slamming him against the wall with bone-crushing force.

Dean's head snapped back against the crumbling plaster, his breath knocked from his lungs as Elliot pinned him in place with one hand around his throat. The vampire leaned in closer, his smirk widening as he bared his fangs. Dean thrashed against the grip, but it was like struggling against iron chains—Elliot was too strong, and he was enjoying every second of it.

From your position, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the scene playing out in agonizing slow motion. Dean's struggles were growing weaker, his face reddening as Elliot's grip tightened. The vampire was speaking, taunting him, but the words barely registered. All you knew was that if you didn't act now, you'd lose him.

Adrenaline surged through you, and you moved without hesitation. Dean's earlier order to stay back echoed faintly in your mind, but you pushed it aside. There was no way you were letting him die—not now, not ever. With your machete in hand, you crept forward, your steps quick but silent, your grip tightening around the hilt until your knuckles ached.

Elliot was so focused on his prey that he didn't notice you until it was too late. Just as he leaned in, his fangs poised to strike, you swung your machete with every ounce of strength you could summon. The silver blade whistled through the air, a deadly arc that struck true.

The cut was clean, precise. Elliot's head severed from his shoulders in an instant, his expression frozen in a mixture of shock and disbelief. His body crumpled to the ground in a heap, lifeless, as his head rolled a few feet away before coming to a stop. The room fell silent, save for the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Dean stumbled forward as the vampire's grip released, coughing and clutching at his throat. He leaned heavily against the wall, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Slowly, he looked up at you, his face a mix of relief and frustration. "You really don't take orders well, do you?" he rasped, his voice hoarse.

"You're welcome," you replied, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins as you tried to steady your breathing. Your grip on the machete remained firm, your pulse thundering in your ears.

Dean straightened, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. His gaze dropped to Elliot's lifeless body, then back to you. A faint, crooked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Hell of a swing," he muttered, nodding toward your machete. "Remind me not to piss you off."

You managed a small grin in return, though the weight of what had just happened hadn't fully lifted. "You looked like you needed a hand," you said simply, your voice steadier than you felt.

Dean's grin softened, and he reached out to clap a hand on your shoulder. The gesture was brief but heavy with meaning. "Thanks," he said, his voice quieter now. "Seriously. I owe you one."

Before either of you could say more, the silence of the room was broken by a faint noise—a distant creak of footsteps echoing through the mansion. The two of you exchanged a glance, the momentary reprieve evaporating as the reality of the situation returned. The fight wasn't over. There were still more vampires lurking in the shadows, and you both knew it.

Dean bent to retrieve his machete, his movements steady despite the fatigue etched into his frame. "Let's finish this," he said, his voice firm, his green eyes sharp once more.

You nodded, your machete still at the ready.

The heavy iron doors of the Men of Letters bunker creaked and groaned as you, Sam, and Dean pushed them open, stepping into the dimly lit warmth of your sanctuary. The hunt was finally over. Days of tracking the vampire herd, endless skirmishes, and close calls had culminated in one brutal showdown, leaving the herd annihilated—and all of you battered and exhausted. The adrenaline that had kept you on your feet had long since burned out, leaving only the ache of bruises and the bone-deep fatigue that followed every hunt.

Dean was the last to step inside, his machete hanging loosely at his side, the blade streaked with dried blood. His shirt was torn in several places, revealing fresh cuts and purple bruises across his arms, chest, and shoulders. He moved with a slight limp, favoring his left leg, and his face was streaked with grime and blood—some his, some not. Yet despite his disheveled state, he still managed to mutter, "Those damn bloodsuckers were on steroids or something," his tone laced with sarcasm as usual.

Sam, equally worse for wear with a gash above his eyebrow and dirt smudged across his face, clapped Dean on the back. "You're lucky they didn't do worse," he quipped, his voice heavy with exhaustion. Without waiting for a response, Sam trudged off toward his room, the promise of a shower and sleep clearly his priority. "I'll patch this up later," he added, gesturing vaguely to his injuries before disappearing down the hall.

Dean made to follow, his steps slow and uneven, but you stepped in front of him, crossing your arms and blocking his path. "Hold it right there," you said, your tone firm yet gentle. "You're the one who looks like you just went twelve rounds with a grizzly bear. Sit down."

Dean rolled his eyes, letting out a huff of annoyance. "I'm fine," he muttered, though the stiffness in his posture and the wince that flickered across his face told a different story. "It's just a couple scratches."

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his bravado. "Uh-huh. And I'm the queen of England. Sit. Down."

He sighed dramatically, but the fight was already gone from him. Dropping into one of the war room chairs with a heavy thud, he leaned back, letting his machete clatter onto the table. "Fine, Nurse Ratched," he grumbled, though his voice lacked its usual bite.

Without another word, you grabbed the first-aid kit from its usual spot on the shelf and pulled up a chair beside him. Dean watched as you opened the kit and laid out what you needed, his lips twitching in a faint smirk. "You're really getting a kick out of this, aren't you?"

"Not even a little," you shot back, already dampening a cloth with antiseptic. "Now sit still and shut up."

Dean complied, though not without muttering something about you being bossier than Sam. You ignored him, focusing on cleaning the blood and grime from his face and arms. The silence between you was comfortable, broken only by the occasional hiss or wince from Dean when you pressed too hard on a particularly nasty gash. Your hands moved methodically, and despite his usual resistance to being fussed over, Dean stayed still, letting you work.

As you carefully wrapped a bandage around a deep cut on his arm, you caught him watching you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw that his usual smirk was gone, replaced by something softer, almost contemplative. His green eyes lingered on your face, the intensity of his gaze making you pause.

"What?" you asked, glancing up at him.

Dean shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "Just... you're good at this."

You raised an eyebrow, your tone playful but pointed. "I've had a lot of practice patching you up, Winchester."

He chuckled, but it was a quiet, almost bittersweet sound. "Yeah, I guess you have." His gaze dropped briefly, as if searching for the right words, before he looked back up at you. "You don't have to, you know. Take care of me like this. I'm supposed to be the one looking out for you."

You frowned, tightening the bandage with a little more force than necessary. "You don't get to decide that," you said firmly. "You're not just some guy I hunt with, Dean. You matter to me, okay? So stop being stubborn and let me take care of you."

Dean's breath hitched slightly at your words, his expression shifting. For a moment, he just looked at you, his usual walls nowhere to be found. His green eyes softened, and the vulnerability there made your chest tighten. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I'm in love with you."

The confession hung in the air like a thunderclap, the weight of it sinking into the quiet space between you. You froze, staring at him, your heart racing as you processed his words. Dean Winchester, a man who guarded his emotions with ironclad defenses, had just let them spill out in the most unexpected way.

"Dean..." you started, but he cut you off with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

"Don't worry," he said quickly, his voice rough. "You don't have to say anything. I just... I needed to get it out there. You deserve to know."

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself before placing a hand on his uninjured arm. "Dean," you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "You're an idiot if you think I don't feel the same way."

His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. "You do?"

You smiled, squeezing his arm gently. "Of course I do, you stubborn ass. But we'll talk about it later—after you let me finish patching you up."

Dean let out a breathy laugh, his smile genuine this time. "Fair enough," he said, leaning back in the chair. "But you're still bossy."

"And you're still reckless," you shot back, shaking your head with a grin. "Take your shirt off."

Dean's eyebrows shot up, and despite the fatigue lining his face, a slow, cocky grin spread across his lips. "Well, if you wanted me naked, you could've just said so," he teased, his voice carrying that familiar drawl of Winchester charm. "Didn't peg you as the 'wounded soldier' type, but hey, I'm not complaining."

You rolled your eyes, doing your best to ignore the way his grin tugged at something in your chest. "I'm serious. I need to clean that cut on your chest, and I can't do that with your shirt in the way."

"Mm, bossy. I like it," he quipped, but as he reached for the hem of his shirt, his smirk faltered for a moment when the movement made him wince. He pulled the fabric over his head, tossing it to the floor with a groan.

You tried not to stare, but the sight of his battered torso was hard to ignore. Bruises in various stages of discoloration painted his skin, and dried blood streaked across the angry red gash that ran diagonally across his chest. Even beaten and bruised, Dean Winchester was... well, he was still Dean Winchester.

Focus. You grabbed a cloth, soaked it in antiseptic, and stepped closer, crouching slightly to better reach his chest. "This might sting," you warned, pressing the cloth gently against the wound.

Dean hissed, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. "No kidding," he muttered through gritted teeth. "You're lucky you're cute; otherwise, I'd be kicking you out of my personal space right now."

You raised an eyebrow, barely suppressing a smirk of your own. "Pretty sure I've earned my place in your personal space, Winchester."

He chuckled, though it was rough and breathy. "Fair point." His green eyes lingered on you as you worked, his smirk softening into something more genuine. "Y'know, you're pretty good at this."

"I've had a lot of practice," you replied, dabbing carefully around the edges of the gash. "Mostly because you keep getting yourself into situations like this."

Dean leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze never leaving your face. "Well, if this is how you're gonna take care of me, maybe I'll get banged up more often. Free TLC from my favorite person? Could be worse."

You let out a small huff of exasperation, but his words still sent a flicker of warmth through you. "You're impossible," you muttered, shaking your head.

As you continued to clean his wounds, the air between you shifted. The banter quieted, replaced by something heavier, more intimate. The room seemed to shrink, the space between you and Dean charged with an unspoken tension. You could feel his gaze on you, more intent now, as if he were memorizing every detail of your face. Your hand brushed against his side as you worked, and his breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

When you finally stood to discard the bloodied cloth, Dean's hands suddenly found your waist. His grip was firm but careful, his calloused fingers pressing gently into your sides. The unexpected touch made you freeze for a moment, your heartbeat stuttering as his thumbs brushed lightly against your hips. You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, you felt the warmth of his lips against your neck.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative, as if he were testing the waters. His breath was warm against your skin, and the way his lips lingered sent a shiver down your spine. You stood still, your hands hovering uncertainly near his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

Then he tilted his head up, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but tentative. It was slow and deliberate, carrying a weight that left you breathless. This wasn't the impulsive kind of kiss born from adrenaline or heat of the moment. This was something else entirely—something deliberate, something meaningful.

Your mind raced, trying to piece together what this meant. Dean Winchester wasn't exactly known for vulnerability, and this was different. There was no bravado, no smirk. Just him, raw and unguarded.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his hands still on your waist as if he couldn't bring himself to let go. His green eyes searched yours, his expression uncharacteristically open. It was as though he was trying to say something but didn't know how.

"Dean," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. "Don't," he murmured, his voice soft, almost pleading. "Don't say anything. Just... let me have this."

You swallowed hard, your emotions warring in your chest as you placed a hand gently on his shoulder. "Okay," you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you. "But, Dean... I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at your words. When he opened them again, the vulnerability in his gaze was still there, but so was something else—something warmer. His hands loosened slightly on your waist, though he didn't let go.

"Good," he said quietly, his voice carrying a faint trace of that signature Winchester charm. "Because I'm not ready to let you go."

Dean's hands, so steady and certain in battle, now moved with a different kind of confidence. They trailed downward from your waist, his touch warm even through the fabric of your shirt. The shift in his grip sent a shiver through you, anticipation crackling in the air like static.

When his hands settled firmly on your ass, his hold was unapologetically possessive. He gave it a squeeze, a low hum of satisfaction rumbling from his throat, the sound reverberating through your chest. Against your lips, you felt the telltale curve of his smirk, laced with mischief and hunger. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his green eyes alight with that dangerous combination of charm and heat that was uniquely Dean Winchester.

"Didn't think I'd get you in my lap tonight," he muttered, his voice a low, gravelly drawl that sent warmth pooling low in your stomach. "But I'm not complaining."

Before you could form a coherent response—whether to quip back, scold him for his timing, or give in entirely—Dean shifted. His grip tightened, firm and insistent, and with one smooth, fluid motion, he pulled you forward. Your knees slid onto the chair on either side of his hips, your body straddling his thighs as he drew you into his lap. The sudden movement left you breathless, your chest brushing against his as you steadied yourself.

His hands returned to your hips, anchoring you firmly in place as if daring you to move. His gaze roamed over your face, taking in every detail with a mix of amusement and barely concealed desire. "That's better," he murmured, his lips twitching into a self-satisfied grin. "Now I've got you right where I want you."

Your breath hitched, and before you could retort, he surged forward, claiming your lips once more. This kiss was nothing like the first—it was hungry, demanding, a raw intensity that made your pulse race. His lips moved against yours with fervor, his hands pressing against your hips to pull you even closer, until there wasn't a sliver of space left between your bodies.

As the kiss deepened, his tongue teased yours, every movement deliberate, sending heat coursing through you. His fingers curled against your sides, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of the power he held. Beneath you, you could feel the tension in his muscles, the coiled strength barely restrained as you balanced precariously on his lap.

When his lips finally broke away from yours, it was only to trail down your jaw, leaving a hot, tingling path in their wake. He pressed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, each one deliberate, calculated. His breath was warm against your pulse, and when his teeth grazed the tender spot just below your ear, your body reacted instinctively—a soft, involuntary sound escaping your lips.

Dean chuckled, the sound low and rich, vibrating against your skin. "Careful," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement and a darker, more primal edge. "Make noises like that, and I might not let you off this lap for a while."

There was teasing in his tone, but beneath it, there was something deeper—something raw and unspoken. You could feel it in the way his hands moved over your body, exploring with a mix of reverence and desire. He wasn't just touching you; he was committing every curve, every line, to memory, as though this moment mattered more than either of you had expected.

When his lips returned to yours, the kiss was just as searing, just as consuming, but now it carried a weight that left you breathless. There was no rush, no urgency to move beyond this—just Dean, claiming every inch of you with his touch, his kiss, his presence. His hands remained steady on your hips, keeping you tethered to him, as though letting go wasn't an option.

And you realized you didn't want him to let go. Dean Winchester had a way of commanding a room, of making you feel like nothing else existed but the two of you. In this moment, you were more than willing to let him consume you completely.

Your fingers tangled in Dean's hair, the strands soft and warm against your touch as he kissed you with an intensity that made your world narrow down to just him. His hands gripped your ass firmly, his hold unapologetic and possessive, grounding you in a way that made your pulse race. The heat of his palms burned through your clothes, a stark contrast to the cool air of the bunker. Every touch carried a deliberate weight—hunger, yes, but also something deeper, something unspoken that lingered in the space between you.

Dean finally broke the kiss, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back just enough to speak. His voice was low and gravelly, tinged with a vulnerability you didn't often hear from him. "You know," he began, his green eyes meeting yours with an almost shy flicker, "I had this whole damn night planned for you."

The unexpected confession caught you off guard, and you blinked at him, your hands still resting in his hair. "What?" you whispered, your voice soft, barely audible over the thundering of your heartbeat.

Dean let out a quiet chuckle, equal parts humor and self-deprecation, as his hands slid from your ass to rest gently on your hips. He tilted his head back slightly, his gaze searching yours, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction. "Yeah," he said, his tone quieter now, a rare tenderness weaving through his words. "Candles, music, real food—not diner junk. I even picked out a bottle of whiskey that didn't taste like it came out of an engine block."

Your lips parted in surprise, the image of Dean Winchester—gruff, no-nonsense, and allergic to emotional displays—meticulously planning a romantic evening stirring something deep in your chest. "You?" you managed, a note of disbelief creeping into your voice.

His smirk returned, but it was softer now, lacking his usual cocky edge. "Yeah, me. Don't look so shocked." He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to speak again. "I don't do that kind of thing for just anyone. But for you... I wanted to."

Your hands slid from his hair to cup his face, your thumbs brushing gently over the stubble on his jaw. "Dean..." you began, your voice soft, but the weight of your emotions made it impossible to finish the sentence.

Dean cut you off, his smirk fading into a rueful grin. "Of course, the universe had other plans," he muttered, his tone turning wry. "Because why the hell not throw a pack of vampires into the mix, right? Nothing says romance like dead man's blood and machetes."

A soft laugh escaped you, the sound breaking through the heavy tension that had settled between you. "So, what? You're telling me I missed out on some grand romantic gesture?"

Dean's lips twitched into a quiet laugh of his own as his thumbs traced slow circles on your hips. "Not just some grand gesture," he corrected, his voice growing serious again. His green eyes locked onto yours, the sincerity in them hitting you harder than you expected. "I wanted you to know... how much you matter to me. How much this—" he gestured faintly between the two of you with a slight shrug "—means."

His words hit you like a freight train, the raw honesty in them leaving you momentarily speechless. Dean Winchester didn't do vulnerability—not often, and not easily. But here he was, baring himself to you in a way that was rare, even for him.

After a beat, you found your voice. "You didn't need candles or whiskey to show me that," you said, your voice soft but steady. "Just you, Dean... that's more than enough."

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before his lips curved into a small, genuine smile. "Yeah, well," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead that was so tender it made your chest ache, "I'm still gonna make it up to you. Just wait."

His hands slid back to your ass, his grip firm and familiar, pulling you closer until your bodies pressed together again. His lips found yours once more, and this kiss was just as consuming as the first—but now it was softer, filled with something more profound than just hunger. It was a promise, a reassurance that this—whatever it was—wasn't just a fleeting moment.

As the kiss deepened, his touch moved with the same deliberate care, his hands anchoring you to him as though he wanted to keep you there forever. You couldn't help but smile against his lips, your heart full as the weight of his words lingered.

Maybe the night hadn't gone as planned. Maybe there were no candles, no music, no expensive whiskey. But none of that mattered. Because Dean was here, raw and unguarded, and in this messy, unplanned moment, he had given you something far more valuable than any grand gesture.

He had given you him. And that was more than enough.

#x male reader #gay #dean winchester #dean winchester x male reader #jensen ackles x male reader #jensen ackles #supernatural #fluff

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glittervame · 1 year ago

Text

That did Nott go to plan

"Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?"

This post is going to be part of the Hogmarch Fandom challenge by @thatdammchickennugget check it out if you want to know more! I may have gotten a bit carried away...I didn't proofread so sorry for the spelling errors or if it doesn't make any sense, love ya <3

Theodore Nott x FEM! Reader 18+ Basically just smut, Unprotected P in V (Wrap it before you tap it) Subby-Theo, Simi public sex, degradation, overstimulation I think, Handys Theo, fluff at the end

There were five times where Tutoring Theodor Nott did not go to plan.

Session number 1.

Theo's dorm room was a mess of beer bottles, discarded clothing, and the faint scent of marijuana. Y/n didn't belong here, but somehow she found herself on Theo's bed, his head buried between her legs, his tongue lapping at her wetness with a fervor that was both surprising and exhilarating. Her fingers tangled in his unkempt hair as she arched her back, letting out a moan that was quickly swallowed by the chaos of the room. It was a reckless, animalistic act, one that she never would have thought herself capable of doing. But then again, she'd never been this close to Theo before.

His hands gripped her hips, urging her closer, as his tongue danced against her clit, driving her wild. She felt a shudder run through her body, and with a cry that was more primal than anything else, she came, her inner walls clenching tightly around Theo's tongue.

He looked up at her, his green eyes blazing with a mix of lust and satisfaction. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough from exertion. "You taste so good." His hands slid up her body, cupping her breasts through her shirt, and he rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. She arched into the touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Y/n was still trying to catch her breath when Theo sat up, pulling her with him. He leaned in and kissed her, his lips soft and demanding at the same time. She could taste herself on him, and the thought only served to ignite a new wave of desire within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her hips against his hardness, wanting him inside her.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against her ear. "You're so fucking wet," he whispered, his hands fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. She helped him, shaking with anticipation as he pushed the fabric off her shoulders and revealed her bra. His fingers brushed against her bare skin, tracing a line down her sternum and toward her nipple.

When he finally freed her breast from its confines, he took it into his mouth, sucking hard on the sensitive bud. Y/n cried out, arching her back as pleasure coursed through her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, urging him on, needing more. More of this unexpected, intoxicating connection with Theo. She knew it was wrong, that they should be doing this, but she couldn't help herself. The feeling of being wanted, of being desired, was too overwhelming to resist.

As if sensing her need, he slipped a hand down between them, parting her folds with his fingers and searching for her entrance. She was already so wet, so ready for him. And when he finally found her, he thrust his fingers inside her, filling her up in a way that both hurt and felt so, so good. She cried out, her body tensing as a wave of pleasure washed over her.

Theo groaned, his hips bucking against her. "God, you feel so good," he muttered, his voice strained with desire. He withdrew his fingers, only to position his erection at her entrance, pushing slowly but steadily inside her. She bit her lip, feeling the stretch of him filling her up. He was so much bigger than she'd expected, and it hurt a little, but it was a good hurt. A hurt that made her feel wanted, desired.

As he continued to thrust into her, she wrapped her legs tighter around his waist, meeting his movements with her own. Theo's eyes were locked on hers, his expression a mixture of lust and hunger that took her breath away. His skin was flushed, his muscles tense as he powered into her, driving them both closer and closer to the edge.

She arched her back, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt herself beginning to lose control. Theo's thrusts grew faster, deeper, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through her. She could feel the tension building inside her, feel the familiar tightening in her stomach as her orgasm drew near.

With a groan that was more animal than human, Theo let go, his body tensing as he came inside her. His thrusts grew erratic, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control. Y/n felt the familiar wave of pleasure wash over her, starting deep in her core and radiating outward in a series of shudders and tremors that left her spent and satiated.

Her legs still wrapped around him, she held onto him as they both rode out the aftershocks of their orgasms. When the last tremor finally subsided, Theo collapsed onto her, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. His breath came more easily now, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He shifted slightly, rolling onto his side to look down at her, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Well," he said, his voice still hoarse from exertion, "that was unexpected." He ran a hand through his messy hair, and gave a wicked grin.

A few weeks have passed and Theo had found himself less interested in all the other girls at hogwarsts and more into you. He couldn't stop thinking about the way you looked when he touched you, the way you tasted on his tongue. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help himself. He had to have you again.

One day, as he was walking to class, he caught a glimpse of you across the great hall. Your hair was pulled back into a messy bun, your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose, and a soft blush tinting your cheeks. Something about the way you moved, the way you held yourself, made his heart race. He'd sorta made a hobbie of watching you, not being able to man up and talk to you himself. You were the only thing he could think about, and it was driving him crazy.

He'd tried to talk to you a few times, but every time he got close, his nerves would get the better of him and he'd freeze up. He wanted to be able to tell you how he felt, how much he cared about you, but he just couldn't find the words. It felt like the world was pressing down on him, making it impossible to breathe, let alone string a coherent sentence together.

So instead, he resigned himself to watching you from afar, enjoying the small moments when you'd glance in his direction or smile at something one of your friends said. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep him going. And when you walked past him in the hallway, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, he knew he had to do something. He had to make a move.

He'd been thinking about it for days, trying to come up with the perfect plan, and finally, he decided on something bold. He'd invited you to the Yule Ball, hoping that maybe this would be the opportunity he needed to finally tell you how he felt. As the evening wore on and the music played, he found himself growing more and more nervous. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest, and his palms were sweaty as he waited for the perfect moment to approach you.

When he finally worked up the courage, he made his way over to where you were standing near the edge of the dance floor, sipping punch from a plastic cup. Your dress was stunning, a deep red that brought out the warmth in your skin, and your hair was pulled up in a elegant updo that showed off your neck. He couldn't help but think how beautiful you looked, and for a moment, all his nerves melted away.

Taking a deep breath, he walked up beside you and offered you a smile. "Hey, Theo," you said, looking up at him with those big, green eyes. He could feel his heart skip a beat. "I thought you might like to dance," he managed to say, his voice coming out a little rougher than he'd intended. You smiled back at him, and before he could second-guess himself, you took his hand and let him lead you out onto the dance floor.

As they moved together to the music, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He was finally doing it, finally telling you how he felt. And even though he knew it was wrong, that it could cause a lot of trouble for both of them, he couldn't help but feel like it was worth it. Because being with you, even for just this one dance, felt more right than anything else in the world.

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his face, and he could tell that you felt it too. The connection between them was palpable, electric. He couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be with you, truly be with you, outside of this moment. He wished he could freeze time, just so they could stay like this forever.

The music came to an end, and they stood there on the dance floor, still holding each other close. He couldn't bring himself to let go, didn't want to lose the feeling of your body pressed against his. You looked up at him, your lips parted, as if you were about to say something, but in the end, you didn't need to. He could see it in your eyes, hear it in your silence, that you felt it too.

Finally, reluctantly, he released you, stepping back and taking a deep breath. You both smiled shyly at each other before turning away, pretending to look for your friends or sip your punch. But neither of you moved, and neither of you looked away for long. The air between you was still charged, still thick with the unspoken words and the feelings that neither of you quite knew how to express.

As the night wore on, they found themselves stealing glances at each other whenever they could, trying to gauge the other's reaction, to see if what they thought they saw was real. And with each passing moment, the desire to be together, to explore this strange and wonderful connection, grew stronger. It was like a current, pulling them together despite all the forces that tried to keep them apart.

Finally, as the last notes of the final dance echoed through the great hall, you turned to him, your eyes meeting his once more. There was a question in your gaze, a hope that he couldn't ignore. And without another word, he took your hand, knowing that whatever happened next, he couldn't bring himself to care. Because being with you, even for just this one night, had already changed everything.

And then the clock fucking strikes midnight.

Session number 2.

Y/n has once again found her self in an empty classroom with a pussy drunk Theo between her legs eating her out like there's no tomorrow. She can't help but moan and grip his head in pleasure as he expertly works his tongue on her clit, driving her wild. His hands are all over her thighs and ass, urging her to open wider, to give him more access to her sweetness. The sound of his slurred pleas and her moans echo through the room, filling the air with desire and need.

As he continues to feast on her, she feels a surge of wetness between her legs, a sure sign that she's close. She tightens her grip on his head, urging him on, needing him to make her cum. And then, with a sharp cry, she feels the wave of pleasure wash over her, her body tensing and shuddering in ecstasy.

For a moment, they are both still, lost in the afterglow of her orgasm. Theo looks up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust, and she can see the desire burning in his eyes. He slowly pulls away from her, taking his wet mouth off of her as he stands up. Y/n watches him, panting heavily, as he unzips his pants, revealing his hard, throbbing erection.

With a steady hand, he guides himself to her entrance, positioning his cock at her entrance. She watches as he pushes forward, feeling the head of his dick slowly sink into her. It's been so long since she's felt this full, this connected, this wanted. She wraps her legs around his waist, arching her back as he thrusts deeper inside of her.

Theo's movements are slow and deliberate at first, savoring the feel of her body surrounding him. But as he grows bolder, as the heat between them intensifies, he begins to move faster, harder. His thrusts are deep and powerful, driving into her with a force that she can feel all the way up to her core.

She gasps as he hits her sweet spot, he grins and slowly teases around it. His hand slides down her lower back, over her ass, and back up to her hip. His thrusts become erratic, his breathing growing harsher as he feels the end drawing near. Y/n meets his movements, her nails digging into his shoulders as she arches her back, her body begging for release.

Theo looks down at her, his eyes burning with desire. He's never felt this way before, this need to be inside her, to feel her around him. He's lost count of the times he's come since they've been together, it's becoming a real problem.

She looks up at him, her chest heaving, her lips parted in a breathless moan. He watches as her eyes close, her head falls back against the wall, and she arches her back further. He can feel her tightening around him, the telltale sign that she's close too. With a groan, he thrusts deeper, harder, determined to send them both over the edge together.

His movements become frantic, his body tense with need as he feels his own release barreling down on him. He's never been this close before, this connected to someone. He can feel every inch of her body moving in perfect synchrony with his own, her breath hot against his skin.

With a final, powerful thrust, he cries out her name as he comes, his seed spilling deep inside her. Y/n's body tenses and convulses around him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she's engulfed by a wave of pleasure so intense it leaves her breathless.

For a moment, they are both still, their bodies pressed tightly together, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing. He pulls out slowly, his softening cock slipping from her wet folds, and collapses beside her on the floor, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

This time it's one of the rare sessions where Y/n actually gets to tutor Theo in Herbology and not end up bent over his desk with his cum leaking out of her. Or so she thought.

They spend the afternoon in the greenhouse, surrounded by the lush, verdant life that Theo so desperately craves. He listens intently as she explains the care and cultivation of the various plants, asking questions and making notes in his notebook. Throught the lesson thogh he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her, weather it was playing with the hem of her sleeve to fiddiling with a peace of her hair.

The air is thick with the scent of soil and flowers, and the sunlight streaming through the glass panes casts a warm, golden glow over their work. The lesson was drawing to a close, they take a break to stretch their legs and enjoy the fresh air. They wander along the path that leads to the small pond at the edge of the garden, their hands brushing against each other as they walk. Theo leans in closer, inhaling deeply of her scent, and presses his lips to hers in a kiss.

Session number 3.

Her heart racing, Y/n melts into his embrace, returning his kiss with equal fervor. Their hands roam over each other's bodies, seeking out the familiar curves and planes. He pushes her up against the rough bark of a tree, trapping her there as he continues to kiss her, his tongue dancing with hers.

She feels the hard length of his cock pressing against her through their clothes, and she moans into his mouth, wanting him inside her now. He pulls back for a moment, his breath ragged as he looks down at her, and then reaches down to undo his pants. Y/n helps him, eagerly pulling his cock free and wrapping her hand around the base.

Theo groans, closing his eyes as she strokes him, the sensation so much better than anything he could have imagined. He presses their bodies together, grinding his hips against her hand, wanting to feel the heat and wetness of her around him.

She feels his growing arousal, the tip of his cock leaking pre-cum onto her palm. She kneels down, pulling his pants and boxers down to his thighs, revealing his erection in all its glory. Theo looks down at her, his eyes dark with desire as she takes him in her mouth, her warm, wet lips enveloping him.

She sucks gently at first, exploring the texture and taste of him, feeling the pulse of his veins beneath her tongue. He lets out a shuddering breath, his hands tangling in her hair, urging her on. She deepens the suction, taking more of him into her mouth, feeling his length stretch her jaw. His hips begin to move, thrusting against her face as he loses control, his moans muffled by the sounds of their surroundings.

Her own need building, she stands up, straddling him and guiding his cock to her wet folds. He helps her, pushing upwards, burying himself inside her. They both groan at the feeling of being connected once more. Theo's hands roam over her body, cupping her breasts, tweaking her nipples as they begin to move together in rhythm.

Their movements become increasingly frantic, their bodies slamming together as they seek release. Theo's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he feels the familiar tension building inside him. He can feel himself getting closer, closer to the edge, and with one final thrust, he comes, his seed spilling deep inside her.

Y/n feels the wave of pleasure wash over her, her body shuddering as she cries out his name. Their bodies become limp, their breathing slow and ragged, as they cling to each other, lost in the afterglow of their passion.

Session number 4.

This time though this is the one, there is no way they can get side tracked on this one. Their in a library just studying potions.

Theo and Y/n sit across from each other at a large wooden table, surrounded by rows upon rows of leather-bound books. The scent of old paper and ink fills the air, and the flickering light from the candles casts a warm, inviting glow over their faces. They are intent on their studies, pouring over the pages of the books, taking notes and discussing the intricacies of potions. Theo can't help but steal glances at Y/n as she works, admiring the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way her lips move as she reads.

Their shared interest in potions makes it easy for them to engage in conversation, and soon they are lost in a lively debate about the merits of various ingredients and brewing techniques. Theo leans in closer, listening intently to her every word, and finds himself agreeing with her more often than not.

But the bastard just can't keep his hands to himself and you found out soon enough when his hand is up your skirt and down your panties.

Theo's hand is warm and rough as it glides up your thigh, his thumb teasing the edge of your panties. You gasp, surprised by the audacity of his move. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You feel so good, Y/n."

You're caught between embarrassment and desire. You know you shouldn't be doing this, in a library no less, but you can't help but want more. You feel a stirring between your legs, a longing for him that you haven't felt in a long time. Maybe it's the forbidden nature of it all, the danger of getting caught. Or maybe it's just Theo.

He pushes your chair back, making you straddle his lap. His other hand cups your breast through your shirt, his thumb rubbing circles around your nipple, the other one playing with your cilt. You arch your back, moaning softly as pleasure spreads through you. His other hand slides down, pushing your panties aside, and finding you wet and ready.

Theo groans, pressing his hips forward, feeling you stretch and accommodate him. His other hand moves up, cupping your face, his thumb tracing your lower lip. "God, Y/n," he whispers, "you're so fucking beautiful." His hips begin to move, in and out, in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. He leans in, capturing your lips with his, his tongue pushing past your teeth and tangling with yours.

As they kiss, you can feel him deep inside you, his movements growing more urgent. Your nails dig into his shoulders, and you gasp against his mouth, your release building. Theo picks up the pace, thrusting harder, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he feels his own climax approaching. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of lust and a hint of something else. "I'm going to come for you," he rasps, and then he does, his hips bucking wildly as he empties himself inside you.

Session number 5.

Y/n had promised herself that this session would go according to plan, that they would study the full hour. That's what she was thinking untill she found herself doing the exact opposite.

Y/n, looking incredibly sexy in a lacy black bra and matching panties, straddles Theo, who is lying on his back. His cock, already hard as a rock, is trapped in his boxer briefs, straining against the fabric. Y/n's wetness is already dripping down Theo's abdomen, and he can feel how aroused she is. He groans, arching his back in anticipation.

Y/n grins wickedly, leaning down to capture Theo's lips in a kiss. Her hands slide up his chest, over his shoulders, and down his arms before gripping his wrists, pinning them above his head. Theo gasps into her mouth as she continues to kiss him, their tongues tangling together. His cock throbs in his underwear, begging for release.

Finally, she pulls away, breathing heavily, and looks down at Theo. "You're so fucking hot," she whispers, tracing a finger along his jaw. Her touch sends shivers down his spine. She reaches between them, unfastens his boxer briefs, and pulls them down his legs, releasing his hard cock into the open air. Theo's eyes roll back in his head as he feels her warm, wet lips wrap around the head of his cock. He groans, thrusting his hips upward.

"Fuck, Theo," she moans, taking more of him into her mouth. Her hand grips his base, stroking him expertly as she sucks. Theo's hips buck wildly, his moans muffled by the mattress. He's so close, he can feel it. He's never felt this desperate for release before.

Y/n pulls away, panting, and looks down at him. "You're doing so well, baby," she whispers, her voice low and sultry. She leans forward, taking his cock in her hand and stroking him slowly, carefully, until he's almost at the brink. "Just a little longer," she teases, before sucking him deep into her mouth again. Her tongue swirls around the head, driving him wild.

Theo's vision blurs, his mind goes blank. He's lost all sense of time and place. He can feel himself getting closer, but just when he thinks he can't take anymore, she pulls away again. "You're so beautiful when you're like this," she breathes, trailing a finger down his chest. "So needy and so desperate." She lowers herself onto him, guiding his cock into her wetness. Theo gasps, arching his back as she begins to ride him, slowly at first, but picking up speed as they both lose control.

Theo's hands find their way to her hips, gripping tightly as he thrusts upwards, meeting her movements. Her breasts bounce against his chest, her nipples hard and aching. He can feel the tension building inside him, the need for release growing more and more intense with each passing second.

"Oh fuck, Theo," she moans, throwing her head back. Her nails dig into his shoulders as she comes, her inner walls clenching around him in an unbearably tight grip. He can feel her orgasm pulsing through her, fueling his own need for release. Before he can cum tho, she pulls way making him whine at the loss of contact.

"You're so turned on that you're reduced to whimpering and begging and pleading for me to fuck you senseless. Tell me how much you want it, baby." She teases, slowly grinding her hips against his cock. Theo's breath comes out in ragged gasps as he arches into her touch.

"I want it," he moans, gripping her hips tightly. "I need it." He groans as she begins to ride him harder, faster. His cock throbs inside her, desperate for release.

She leans forward, capturing his lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. Her hips begin to move again, faster and harder, driving him wild. He can feel his control slipping away as he thrusts up into her, desperate to feel the release coursing through him.

With a hoarse cry, Theo finally gives in to the overwhelming pleasure, his body tensing as he comes, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her up with his seed. Y/n moans, arching her back as she feels him empty himself into her.

"You look so pretty when you're like this, too dumb to even think" she muses, her hands running down his chest.

She leans back, watching him, her eyes dark with satisfaction. As he catches his breath, she slowly eases herself off of him, taking him out of her wetness with a soft pop. His cock twitches, wanting more, but she ignores it, instead straddling him again, this time with her legs on either side of his hips. She leans forward, taking one of his hands in hers and guiding it between their bodies. "Touch yourself," she whispers, her breath tickling his ear. "I want to see how much you want this."

Theo's fingers are hesitant at first, but as she watches him, a heat begins to build inside him. He can feel his cock twitch and throb as he starts to stroke himself, watching as Y/n watches him. She moans softly, her hips moving in time with his touch, her breasts swaying before him.

"That's it," she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. "You're so sexy when you touch yourself like that. I bet you'd do anything for me, wouldn't you?" Her fingers trail down his chest, teasing the tip of his nipple, sending shivers through him.

Theo nods, his eyes locked on hers, his hand moving faster now. Y/n leans in closer, their bodies pressed together, her breath hot against his skin. She can feel his desire, his need for her, and it only fuels her own desire to have him. She lets out a soft moan as she watches him stroke himself until he cums again, the sight sending a wave of pleasure through her.

She reaches down, guiding his hand away from his aching cock, and replaces it with her own. Her fingers are gentle as she strokes him, her thumb brushing over the head of his cock. Theo's hips buck up into her touch, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "You're mine," she whispers, her voice low and possessive. "And I'm yours. There's no one else for either of us."

Their bodies move together in perfect harmony, their skin slick with sweat. Y/n's fingers move faster, her touch more urgent now. She can feel the tension building inside Theo, can feel the way he's trembling with need. She leans in, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss, her tongue dancing with his.

As they kiss, she tightens her grip on him, her thumb circling the head of his cock. "I love how much you want me," she murmurs against his lips. "I love how I can make you feel like this."

With a groan, Theo comes, his body tensing as he releases himself deep inside her. She feels his hot seed spilling onto her hand, and she can't help but moan at the feel of it. She continues to stroke him even as he empties himself, her touch gentle and soothing.

As they catch their breath, Y/n leans back, gazing down at him. His eyes are closed, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. She trails her fingers down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before wrapping her hand around his neck. "You are so beautiful when you're like this," she whispers, her thumb brushing over his lips. "I could look at you for hours."

Theo cracks an eye open, looking up at her. "Is it that, or is it because you're in love with me?" he grins, the playful challenge evident in his eyes. Y/n leans down, her lips brushing against his. "Maybe it's a little bit of both," she whispers, her breath warm against his skin. "But I think…" She trails off, hesitating for a moment before continuing. "I think you love me because I make you feel things you've never felt before. I make you want things you never thought you wanted. I make you feel alive."

Her words send a shiver down his spine. He watches as she leans back, her eyes never leaving his. There's something so intense about her gaze, so possessive. It makes him feel like she's seen right through him, to the depths of his soul. He reaches up, cupping her face in his hands, wanting to feel her skin against his, wanting to lose himself in her eyes.

"Maybe," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper. "maybe it's a bit of both…" He trails off, Before pulling her in for a kiss.

Session number five might have been her favorite...

#fypシ #writing prompt #y/n #send help #help #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #got carried away #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theo #hogmarch challenge #thatdamedchickennugget #Hogmarch challenge #Hogmarch

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l4ndonorizz · 5 months ago

Text

white mustang / max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader

song: lana del rey - white mustang

summary: as the sun sets on a quiet beach, you and max confront the unspoken tension between you. What starts as a fleeting connection grows into something deeper as max opens up, revealing his desire to slow down and stay with you—no longer the untamable force you once believed him to be

wc: 1.8k

The sound of the ocean echoed softly in the distance as you stood barefoot on the warm sand, the horizon stretching out endlessly before you. The salty breeze tangled your hair as you stared out at the waves, lost in thought. The sun was beginning to dip low, casting a golden hue across the water, and everything about this moment felt surreal.

You had known this wouldn’t last. You had known from the start that whatever was happening between you and Max was temporary—a fleeting moment of intensity that could burn out just as quickly as it had ignited. But still, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting more.

From behind, you felt Max’s presence before you heard him. He didn’t make a sound, but there was always something electric in the air whenever he was near—a subtle tension, a pull that you could never quite escape. Like the wild ocean in front of you, he was untamable, unpredictable—a force of nature you couldn’t resist.

“You’re always here first,” he said softly, his voice almost lost in the sound of the waves.

You shrugged, turning back toward the ocean. “Maybe I like the quiet.”

Max stood beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He had that same restless energy, like the waves crashing against the shore—beautiful, but dangerous if you got too close. It was what had drawn you to him in the first place. The thrill of being near someone who was all speed and instinct, never looking back.

“You’re like a white mustang,” you said suddenly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Max glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

You smiled softly, your eyes meeting his. “It means you don’t stick around. Always moving, never staying in one place for too long.”

His smirk faded, and for a moment, he seemed to consider your words more deeply than you’d expected. The way he looked out at the horizon, with the sun casting golden light on his face, made him look softer, more introspective. The usual confidence that radiated from him was still there, but tonight, it was quieter.

“Maybe that’s who I was,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But maybe… maybe I’m trying to be something else.”

It caught you off guard, this hint of vulnerability. Max Verstappen, the man who thrived on speed and the thrill of the unknown, wasn’t supposed to have these quiet moments of doubt, but here he was. For the first time, he wasn’t looking ahead at the next challenge or race; he was just here, with you.

You weren’t sure how to respond, so you didn’t say anything. The soft sounds of the ocean filled the silence between you, and for a while, that was enough.

The sun continued its descent, casting a warm glow over both of you. Everything felt softer, like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just you and Max standing on this deserted beach. He stepped closer, so close that the warmth of his body radiated into yours. It was a familiar feeling, being close to him, but tonight it felt different—charged with something deeper, something unsaid.

"Let's go somewhere," Max suddenly said, his voice breaking the quiet between you. There was excitement there, but it was quieter than usual, like he wasn’t asking for a thrill but rather for something real.

You turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat at the suggestion. "Go where?"

"Anywhere," he replied, his eyes locking with yours. "I don't care. As long as you're with me."

His gaze was steady, more serious than you were used to. Max had always been the type to chase after what he wanted without hesitation, but this felt different. There was something deeper behind his words, something more vulnerable than you'd ever seen from him.

"Max..." you began, unsure of what to say, but he took your hand gently in his, his thumb brushing over your skin in soft, calming strokes.

"I mean it," he said softly, stepping closer so that there was barely any space between you. "I don't want this to just be a moment. I don't want you to think I'm just going to run off like I always do."

His words hit you like a wave, unexpected and intense. You had always told yourself that whatever was happening between you and Max was temporary—just a beautiful, fleeting moment that would eventually fade like a dream. But here he was, asking for something more, something that went beyond the rush and adrenaline.

"But that's who you are," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "You're always moving. You're... wild, free. And I don't know if I can keep up."

Max’s grip on your hand tightened, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "You don't have to keep up," he murmured, his voice full of warmth. "You just have to stay."

Your heart raced at his words, your mind spinning. Could someone like Max really stay? Could he really slow down? You had always been afraid of the day when he would leave, when the pull of the next race, the next thrill, would be too much for him to resist. But tonight, standing here with him, it felt like maybe things could be different.

“I’m scared,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “What if I’m the one who can’t stay?”

Max frowned, his eyes searching yours. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “I’m not built for the kind of life you live, Max. I can’t keep up with your pace, with the way you’re always on the move. And I don’t want to be the reason you slow down.”

Max’s hand gently cupped your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re not holding me back,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “If anything, you’re the only thing that makes me want to stop running.”

His words sent a jolt of warmth through you, but you couldn’t shake the doubt that lingered in the back of your mind. Max was everything you had ever wanted—wild, passionate, free—but he was also unpredictable, untamable. And you weren’t sure if you could handle being the one to ask him to slow down.

“What if you get bored?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if one day you wake up and realize this isn’t enough for you?”

Max shook his head, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. “I could never get bored of you,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the weight of his words making it hard to breathe. You had spent so long convincing yourself that this was temporary, that Max would eventually move on, but now, standing here in the soft glow of the setting sun, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—this time could be different.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Max continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to know that I’m serious. I want to be with you. For real.”

Your heart raced at his confession, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the doubts you had been holding onto for so long. You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was just another fleeting moment for him. But all you saw was honesty—raw, unfiltered honesty that made you feel more vulnerable than you ever had before.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking.

Max’s smile was soft, understanding. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be here. We’ll figure it out.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe this wasn’t just a moment—that maybe, just maybe, Max was serious about staying.

The evening drifted on as the two of you sat together, watching the sun finally disappear below the horizon. The sky turned a deep shade of purple, stars beginning to peek through the darkness. Max’s hand remained in yours, a silent promise that neither of you was ready to break.

“You know,” Max said after a while, his voice quiet, “I’ve never felt like this before.”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. Max wasn’t one to talk about his feelings, and yet, here he was, opening up in a way you had never expected.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

Max hesitated, his eyes focused on the ocean in front of you. “I’ve always been chasing something—something I could never quite catch. I thought it was about racing, about winning. But now… I think it’s you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the weight of his confession hanging in the air between you. Max’s usual confidence was gone, replaced by something softer, something more real. And it terrified you.

“You’re the reason I want to slow down,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re the only person who makes me feel like I don’t have to keep running.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the sincerity in his words cutting through every fear you had ever had about being with him. You had spent so long convincing yourself that this would never work, that Max was too wild, too free for someone like you. But now, sitting here with him, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong.

“I’m scared too,” you admitted softly, your voice shaking. “But I want this, Max. I want you.”

Max’s smile was soft, his eyes filled with relief as he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that this was real—that maybe, just maybe, Max wasn’t going to run this time.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not this time.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and relief as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, but for once, it wasn’t the wildness of the ocean that held your attention—it was the calm that came with being in Max’s arms.

For the first time, the white mustang had found a place to rest.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 one shot #formula 1 #max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader

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withwritersblock · 8 months ago

Text

You Were Mine

~You Were Mine by Forest Blakk~

Author's Note: N/A Summary: Luke and Y/N break up but they haven't let go of the relationship yet Warnings: none? Word Count: 1,722

It was late, he wasn’t sure exactly what time it was. He returned late from a roadtrip on the west coast, where they had a mix bag of games. He sat at the empty red light waiting for it to change. He ran his hand across his nose as he stared towards the tiny rain droplets starting to fall onto his wind shield.

The light switched to green as he sped forward towards the apartment building parking garage. He sped inside parking in the guest parking area. The parking spot that felt like his own with how often he was here.

Pulling his key from the ignition he quickly climbed out of the car. He took in a shaky breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He walked into the lobby of the apartment building meeting the gaze of the nighttime receptionist.

“Y/N said you two broke up,” Edith said, she was a eighty year old woman who loved being up at night. The perfect job for her. Y/N often had nights where she couldn’t sleep and would keep Edith company.

Luke dryly chuckled, “We did, good night Edith,” he mumbled as he turned the corner to take the stairs. He was scared of the elevator after being stuck inside of it twice. He climbed up the steps in a rapid pace as he reached the fourth floor swiftly. He walked down the hall towards her apartment, he raised his fist up and knocked three times.

He thought about the doorbell, but he knew she would be awake. The habits of their relationship was still something they were trying to break. She would always stay up and wait for Luke to text her that he made it back safely from his flight. He would either text or show up at her door. Which he always preferred the latter.

He heard the twisting of the lock and her pulling the door open. She tilted her head against the door as she smiled softly towards him.

“Luke, what are you doing here?” she asked as she squinted her eyes slightly.

“Haven’t slept good since we broke up and you know I don’t sleep on roadies. Can I come in?” he expressed softly.

She pulled the door wider as she stepped to the side, letting him inside. He walked past her, taking in the familiar smell of vanilla and rose candles. She would have a candle in every room in her apartment. It would be the same brand and scent.

She shut the door behind him, locking it in the process. “I was just about to put on movie in my room, come on,” she offered as she started walking towards her room. He followed after her quickly as he ran a sleepy hand over his eyes. She shoved open her bedroom door and quickly dropped down onto the mattress, climbing under the comforter. Luke stood at the doorway, admiring her.

“Luke,” she uttered as she shyly glanced towards his direction. He hummed as he continued admiring the soft smile on her glossed lips. “You can’t look at me like that,” she mumbled as she shyly dropped her gaze towards the TV remote in her lap. She turned it on as he took a few steps towards her, delicately shutting the door behind him.

“Why not?” he asked barely above a whisper. She met his tired gaze as he continued towards the bed. She tried to avoid the smirk forming to her lips but it quickly remained. He delicately rolled over her body, laying beside her. He rested his hand beneath his head as he shifted his gaze towards the ceiling.

“You know why,” she mumbled as she turned on the first movie she saw on Max. She placed the remote on the nightstand. She fully laid down. “You have to stop,” she mumbled as she rolled over, facing him. He took a deep breath as he shifted his gaze towards her. “Stop,” she whispered out as she met his gaze.

“I’m not doing anything,” he mumbled as he rolled onto his side, their eyes remained connected. Her entire body felt warm as she continued looking deeply into her eyes. “I can’t look at you?” he questioned as his lips curled up into a smirk.

“We’re broken up,” she mumbled as she felt herself inch towards him.

“You let me in,” he whispered as his gaze lowered towards her lips.

“You gave me no choice,”

“I gave you no choice?” he asked while giggling.

“You stood there looking all sad and lonely-?” she explained teasingly.

“Sad and lonely?!” he said in shock, he shook his head laughing.

“You told me you haven’t been sleeping well since we broke up, was I supposed to let you leave?” she said as she subconsciously rested her hand onto his bicep, squeezing it slightly.

“Maybe,” he mumbled as he met her gaze, suddenly his tone getting serious. He reached over and brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face. She looked towards him threw her eyelashes as she took in a shaky breath.

“You’re going to have to learn to sleep on your own soon,” she whispered as she inched towards him. Their lips only a couple inches apart.

“Stupid London,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, avoiding her lips; instead he forced her onto her back as he rested his head onto her chest. She giggled softly as her hand instantly ran her fingers through his curls.

“You’ve always wanted to visit London,” she countered as she ran her other hand across his shoulder blades, feeling them tense under her touch.

“No, you’ve always wanted to visit. I just always wanted to be where you are; all the time,” he mumbled, pressing his lips against her collarbone. She pressed her lips together as she stared towards the ceiling, her eyes began to tear up.

“I must be an idiot to be leaving you, huh?” she asked softly.

He instantly lifted his head, his eyebrows harsh in a furrow as he stared down towards her.

“You’re not leaving me, you’re pursuing your dream,” he expressed, a soft smile formed to his lips, “You’ll be happy there,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her; he stopped himself short before he kissed her. He wanted to kiss her, needed to. But he didn’t, he simply scanned her teary features. “I can’t stop you from leaving because that wouldn’t be fair,”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she muttered. He pouted his lips as he rested his head onto her chest. He didn’t reply, simply taking in the moment. Her hand ran through his hair once more, soothingly. “But I know that I am,” she paused as her voice broke, “But I know we’ll get through it, right? We’ll be happy without each other, eventually right?”

He took a deep breath, “Yeah,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up her side as he caressed her skin.

“Luke?” she mumbled. He hummed, “Look at me,” she let out. He soon lifted his head to look down towards her, admiring her features once more. He leaned towards her delicately kissing her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “I’ll always love you,” he mumbled as opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. She smiled softly towards him.

“I love you so much,” she whispered as he slowly rested his head back down onto her chest, pressing his lips against her collarbone once more.

~~~

It had been a week since Y/N left for London. It had been a week since they last spoke and since the last time they kissed. For the last week all he would do outside of hockey was lay in his bed. He would lay on his side of the bed, as if he was waiting for Y/N to take the other side for herself.

Jack was starting to grow more and more concerned as Luke wouldn’t have any TV shows or movies playing. Or any music. He would simply lay on his bed, his gaze towards the ceiling. All day.

Jack stood outside of Luke’s door as he was on the phone with their mom. “I’m telling you, Mom, he’s like broken. He only moves if I force food down his throat or we have practice or a game. That’s it,” Jack explained in a hushed tone.

Luke laid on his bed, hearing every word Jack whispered, not so quietly. “No Mom, she didn’t cheat on him. She just left, moved away-I don’t understand it either-yes, mom, he’s alive-” he stopped talking quickly as Luke pulled the door open quickly, staring down towards his older brother. “Okay, I may not be alive after this, bye Mom. Love you, Luke may kill me-” he ended the phone call quickly as he shoved his phone down into his pocket.

“I’m fine,” Luke rasped out as he walked past Jack towards the fridge.

“Those are the first words you have spoken since she left which is saying something because you used to never shut up,” Jack pressed on as he followed after him. “You’re not fine, you are far from fine. Have you slept?” Jack asked.

“Sort of,” he mumbled as he stared towards the leftovers that he hasn’t eaten over the past few days.

“What does that even mean?” Jack asked as he rested his hands onto the top of his countertop.

“I haven’t slept great but I’ve been sleeping,” Luke forced out, tilting his head back.

“Let’s go on a run,” Jack offered, “You need to get out of this apartment and not do anything hockey related,”

“It’s raining,” Luke said simply.

“Then let’s go to the gym,”

“I just need to lie down,” Luke mumbled as he met Jack’s desperate gaze.

“Dude, you’re not okay,” Jack pleaded.

“I know,” Luke let out, a dry chuckle leaving his throat, “Just let me figure my shit out. I’ll be fine,” Luke said as he walked past Jack.

“Luke, do you want to watch a movie with me at least?” Jack begged. Luke stopped in his tracks, sighing before he wandered towards the couch. Sitting in his usually spot, leaning his head into his hand. “We have optional skate tomorrow, how about a Harry Potter marathon?” Jack asked, excitedly. Luke simply shrugged.

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emotionaldamages · 1 year ago

Text

coffee shop- lando norris

summary- lando decides to take time away from f1 talks and goes to a coffee shop where he meets someone

pairings- lando norris x nurse student!reader

authors note- not sure how to feel about this one but hopefully you enjoy

Lando Norris, had always lived life on the edge, pushing boundaries as he sped around racetracks as an F1 driver for McLaren.

Y/N, a nursing student with a heart full of compassion and eyes shining with determination, always had a knack for finding beauty in the simplest of moments.

Their paths had never crossed, until one cool, crisp autumn day, fate intervened and brought them together.

It was in the bustling city of London where their story continued. Y/N, her mind preoccupied with the pressures of exams and the weight of her dreams, sought solace in a small café tucked away on a quaint side street.

As she walked inside, the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped her senses, instantly soothing her racing thoughts. With a sigh, she found a cozy corner table, hoping the calming atmosphere would provide some respite from the chaos of her daily life.

Meanwhile, not far away, Lando had escaped the whirlwind world of racing for a few precious moments of peace. Dressed in casual attire, he craved some semblance of normalcy away from the never-ending attention that came with being a celebrated athlete.

With curiosity guiding him, Lando stumbled into the same café, his eyes scanning the room for a sign of familiarity amidst the sea of faces. And there, in the corner, his gaze locked onto Y/N, captivated by the gentle grace that radiated from her.

An inexplicable force drew them closer, as if the universe had conspired to bring them together. Lando, his heart pounding, walked over to her table, his confidence masking the nervous flutter in his chest.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice laced with a charming undertone.

Y/N, startled yet intrigued, gestured for him to take a seat. And so, as they sat across from each other, a connection sparked between them, like an invisible thread weaving its way into their souls.

Conversations flowed effortlessly, as if they had known each other for a lifetime. Lando shared stories of his adrenaline-fueled races, igniting Y/N's passion for adventure, while she painted vivid pictures of her experiences caring for others, igniting a flame of empathy within Lando's heart.

They laughed, they pondered, and they shared secret dreams that they had never dared to voice aloud before. The hours slipped away, unnoticed, as the world around them faded into the background, leaving only the enchanting dance of their words.

Little did they know, their chance encounter in that cozy café would be the beginning of a love story that would defy all expectations, transcending the boundaries of their individual worlds.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Lando and Y/N realized that fate had brought them together for a reason. And as they left the café, hand in hand, hope soared within their hearts, for they knew their journey had only just begun.

#formula one imagine #f1 one shot #landonorris #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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thedelicatearcher · 8 months ago

Note

could you write about finnick being more submissive in bed? nothing intense or extreme just an example of giving over control every once in a while. loved ur stuff <3

nsfw!! mdni

finnick odair doesnt't mind being submissive in bed with you <3

finnick has your arms pinned above your head as his cock thrusts hard and in a steady rhythm into you. relishing in the delicious feeling of having you underneath him, he buries his face into your neck and peppers it with kisses before nibbling it gently. low growls come out of his pink lips as he feels the tightness in his stomach starting to build.

“finn,” you whimpered softly, “i want to ride you.” your soft voice startles him and he slowly stops his hip movements, pulling his head away from your neck to look at you. looking at you hesitantly, he asks “is everything okay, honey? am i going too fast?” the worry in his eyes disappears when you let out a soft giggle. “no, honey. just want to be the one in control for once,” you confess and his cheeks turn pink, feeling flustered at the thought of you completely dominating him.

“anything for you,” he says with a shaky voice, a soft whine escaping both of your lips as he pulls out. he lays down on his back and puts his hands behind his head, eagerly watching you straddle his lap and slowly sink down on his cock. a strangled moan gets stuck in his throat at the feeling of you clenching around him. his hands inevitably fall to grab your hips, marking your skin with his tight grasp.

“honey,” he whines softly, “you feel so good”. he looks at you with such adoration, his eyes shining as his gaze travels along your body and returns back to your face, taking his time to appreciate each of your features. you feel like a goddess. you place your hands on his chest for balance, and start slowly bouncing on him.

“fuck,” you gasp loudly at the feeling of his cock hitting such a deep spot, tossing your head back from the sensation. finnick’s hands on your hips try to guide your movements, but you stop him. “let me make you feel good, finn,” you tell him a little breathlessly and guide his hands to your breasts. his large hands gently squeeze them and roll your nipples between his fingers, enjoying the view before his attention returns back to where you are connected.

finnick is totally lost in the pleasure. his signature smirk is replaced by a fucked-out expression, his flustered face flushed pink, almost red. his mouth agape as growls and heavy breaths come out of his lips freely. his half-lidded eyes begging to close and surrender to the pleasure, but he is so devoted to looking at you. he isn’t going to let out a teasing comment like he always does, he is too close to his climax to form a rational thought. a string of your name and curse words are the only words coming out of his mouth.

he groans hard when you start speeding up your movements, your legs burning from all the effort, but the desire to watch him fall apart beneath you makes you power through it. “honey,” he whines, “please, i’m so close.” his words of supplication ignite a fire throughout your body, craving so desperately the same release finnick is on the verge of. “fuck yes, baby,” you moan as your hand leaves finnick’s chest and finds your clit, rubbing it as you feel the climax over the horizon.

“let go, pretty boy, let go for me,” you say between breathless moans, your bouncing becoming erratic as you grow tired, using your last effort to bring him to his orgasm. finnick grabs your free hand and interlocks it with his, his gaze locked with yours as he comes whimpering your name. soft words of praise escape your lips, talking him through his orgasm.

while finnick starts coming down from his climax, you selfishly start to grind yourself against him. your swollen, sensitive nub rubbing against his pelvis makes you see stars. you crash down hard, a powerful orgasm hitting you as your vision turns white and your walls clench around him. a fucked-out finnick gently guides your hips, helping you ride your orgasm.

your eyes flutter open, breathing heavily as you open your eyes and observe the beautiful man beneath you. a shy smile spreads across his face, “hi,” he says before breaking into giggles.it’s a moment so sweet and intimate, it is impossible not to melt.

“let me clean you up, beautiful,” you say before lifting your body off him and heading to the bathroom. first, you clean yourself up and use the bathroom, then grab a clean cloth to help him. you give him an innocent peck on his lips, cradling his face with your hands and say “you did amazing, finn, so good as always.” finnick blushes even more, though it seems impossible for his face to get any redder. a soft sigh of contentment escapes his lips as you carefully clean his member and then pepper his body with sweet kisses.

#hope you like this because i loved writing it :)#this is NOT proofread i'll do it tomorrow #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair #thg #the hunger games #this is my third smut i have ever written i hope it's not so bad

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minimujina · 4 months ago

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in pursuit of truth and companionship

xiangli yao is a smart, smart man. he has done a lot of growing and maturing in the course of his life, but not so much at once as he did when he met one particular person. see, something he has parsed out for himself is that he need not sever his pursuit of truth from the companionship of others—though it took much more than just personal intuition to learn that lesson.

it started with the old friend of yao’s youth, who, though he is long gone, has left perhaps the deepest impact on the man’s heart. the rover, then, ignited a particular warmth in him which soothed the leftover ache—it was comforting, all-encompassing affection that opened his heart to the kind of companionship he longed for. it was pleasant. yao looked at himself and saw not just an academic, but a human amongst other humans; he felt his heart beating in sync with the rover’s, with mortefi’s, with baizhi’s, with zhezhi’s. he realized he did not want to live in neglect of the softness that he inevitably possessed; he believed there must be a way to both pursue the truth of the world—finding groundbreaking solutions and engineering new technologies to sustain civilization—and also leave room for other people in his heart. there had to be a way. without connection to humanity, scientists would risk losing sight of the real goal.

you offered yao an apple; he declined with a reserved smile. you shrugged and bit into the sweet fruit yourself, humming in delight, swaying your feet, resting your head on xiangli yao’s shoulder. it was quiet, it was good. despite it all—the lament, the imminent destruction of human civilization—somewhere, birds were singing and bugs were thriving; the grass was green under your picnic blanket, and you sat beneath a healthy tree next to someone with whom near anything could be enjoyed. meanwhile, xiangli yao tuned in to the crunch of the apple as you bit into it, and he visualized the waves in the air, visualized your humming and the shuffling rustling bustling of your clothes and the grass and the leaves. the world, in his eyes, seemed so much more alive in your presence.

you were no resonator, but yao liked to imagine you must emit some kind of special frequency. you were too good, too pure. he could see it in his imagination when he looked at you—like an angelic halo of light, enveloping your form with the delicate hand of some otherworldly, divine power. you may not resonate the same way he does, no, but yao was certain that your very existence harmonized with the ebb and flow of solaris iii’s vibrations.

with locked pinkies, yao and his muse sat in silence, savoring the peace and contentment derived from the presence of another soul so alike in nature. it was quiet love, unassuming, forgiving, patient; you were all small smiles and gentle touches, and he was all the same.

yao liked to tie your shoes for you, since you had a lazy streak; as it turns out, carelessly throwing shoestrings into a loose knot is not enough to make it through the day, but you could not be bothered. so it was becoming a challenge for him to tie them in such a way that your rowdiness could not undo the work. and, say, perhaps you had schemed the lazy shoe-tying, so that he would develop such an intimate and domestic habit—but ah, well, some secrets are best kept as they are.

you liked to bring him lunch—for xiangli yao, the man that he was, had a horrible habit of forgetting to eat. with a blindness to time, poor interoceptive awareness, and the pinpoint focus of a laser, he hardly noticed when he grew hungry in the midst of his work; it was like his body was completely incognizant of its own needs. so you took it upon yourself to check in at lunchtime, very forcefully “suggesting” that he eat. as a result, his coworkers had grown very fond of you in all the time you spent around them.

and truly, there were none so taken with xiangli yao as you—his other half, as he liked to call you. he possessed a certain charm, and anyone who met the man could attest to his humble smile and quiet strength, those qualities that drew people in much more than he realized. but none were so fortunate as you to wake up every day and melt over the man all over again. internally, you could not fathom his existence, could not process his love for you, could not cope with the fact that you belonged to each other. all you could do was trace the lines of his handsome face with your hands, studying each groove and blemish, burning the image of his smile into your retinas so you may never part from the warmth you felt upon seeing it. to be away from him felt almost painful at times, if only because his presence alone was soothing and regulating, and perhaps you’d gotten too used to the privilege. he enjoyed teasing you about that, too.

if anything, xiangli yao has found that deep human connection can only serve to further motivate him in his search for truth, certainly not to hold him back, as he previously feared.

with his abilities, he had felt a sense of duty from a young age to put himself to work, to be a leader among the brilliant minds at the forefront of science. he could not be distracted, he could not let anything hinder his progress. he felt he would somewhat fail humanity otherwise—much too big a burden for just one man to bear.

all this time, that fear has clashed with something deep inside of him that could not shake the desire for companionship. he practically tore himself into shreds, afraid it would disservice the progress of humanity for him to do anything other than put his brain to work. but at the same time, his heart was so soft, and he longed so inexplicably much for someone to just see him.

and then, just like that, yao’s innermost wish had been granted. the war waging in his mind, body, and soul finally came to a standstill—he made friends, and he felt wanted for something other than his abilities. he had not felt such a feeling since his youth.

further, he found that having dear companions boosted his mood and health, which in turn benefitted his research. he could no longer remember why he had always believed so adamantly that relationships were distractions, and something to be feared. perhaps it was an idea he gleaned from his father, whether intentional from the man or not.

as it turns out, some of the most profound truths can be found within the human soul. xiangli yao has discovered this to be true just knowing you; he has found it to be true in the crevices of your palm, in the wrinkles of your skin, in the color of your eyes. he has come to know so much more about the world since knowing you. and he finds himself all the more eager to search for answers, knowing he has someone so dear to love and protect in this world.

#xiangli yao x reader #ish drabble i kinda have proofread because i wrote it in pieces but not rly cause its not meant to be much #fighting against myself to jsut post it instead of sitting on it for months👋#kinda also serves as a character analysis as i try to understand him #i hope it is not too far off #mujimade #xiangli yao #yao x reader #xiangli yao wuwa #wuwa #wuthering waves #wuwa x reader

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aikaterini-drag · 1 year ago

Text

All-consuming Love

Summary: Bucky Barnes loves you more than anything in the world, but your love for him is just as intense. The question of who loves the other more becomes a delightful, unending exchange of devotion between two hearts intertwined.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: implied smut, boyfriend Bucky, fluff, softness, intimacy.

In the soft, dim light of your bedroom, you and Bucky were wrapped in an intimate embrace, nestled cozily in your bed. The world outside had faded, leaving only the two of you in your private sanctuary. You had made love, twice, that night. The first time, he had rained kisses all over your skin before taking your under him, reaching deep into your heart. The second time, you rolled on top, your eager hands exploring every inch of his hard body while you drove him mad with your perfect wiggling motions.

In the end you were both spent and blissfully content.

As your cuddled, your bodies molded perfectly together, Bucky’s each contour fitting to your curves like pieces of a puzzle. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against your cheek and the synchronized rhythm of your breaths, a harmonious melody that played beneath the covers.

His strong arms enveloped you, providing a sense of protection and warmth that melted your worries away. With your head resting gently on his chest, you placed your ear over his heart, listening to the reassuring, steady beat that mirrored his unwavering affection.

Your fingers intertwined, your hands clasped. He always offered you his good arm. But you shifted slightly and caressed the metal one as well, tenderly tracing its ridges and cool smoothness. You loved everything that made him. And this was you showing your love, in an unspoken conversation in which every caress, every stroke, whispered devotion and desire.

With his eyes tender with adoration, he looked deeply into your eyes and said, "You know, I love you more than anything in this world."

You smiled, your eyes gleaming with joy. "That's sweet Sergeant, but I love you more."

He raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "You think so, sweetheart? Well, I love you more than all the stars in the sky."

You leaned in closer, your voice filled with conviction. "And I love you more than the entire universe."

He laughed and pressed wet kisses all over your face which caused you to giggle softly. “I love you like crazy, like absolute crazy!”

You grinned, your fingers tracing a delicate path along his cheek. "I love you more than anyone has ever loved another."

He let out a soft breath, his eyes locked onto you. "You are spoiling my confession, young lady.”

“Why so? Can’t a woman indulge the man she loves?” You placed gentle pecks along his jawline, your lips igniting tingles with every touch.

“Sure you can,” he said, his voice deep. “But I have to do the same. You’re my precious sweetness. I love you more than anyone ever thought they could love another human being. You’re my everything.”

“There you go again! Very well, I will accept your words, Mr. Barnes,” you said, your lips brushing against the curve of his cheekbone. “Thank you, my love. You are the sweetest, most caring man in the world.”

Your love was boundless and no matter who loved whom more, your hearts were forever intertwined in a deep and enduring connection.

He responded with a trail of kisses, starting with your eyelids, then moving down to your nose, and finally capturing your lips. The passionate exchange deepened, your connection intensifying as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensations, becoming lost in each other's embrace for the third time that night.

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #alpha bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #beefy bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes smut #by aikaterini #the winter soldier #sebastian stan #sebby stan #sebby baby

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circle-with-me · 1 month ago

Text

i swear i'd give you anything

pairing: jolly karlsson x reader

cw: a whole lotta angst. sexual content. if you’re not 18 or older get outta here.

word count: >1k

disclaimer: the pov situation in this is an absolute nightmare. this was not beta’d and barely proofread. i’m rusty and fresh off of hiatus so we’re gonna pretend that’s why. <3 you.

Jolly is not one to beg. Even when he is desperate. He would rather suffer in silence—would rather carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders than place any burden on you. Despite his attempts at keeping up a normal appearance, you are not fooled by it. You have known something is wrong. It’s clear in how the tension that has grown in his body over the recent weeks sets firmly in his jaw. When you speak there is a distance in his eyes that is only present when he is in his head. What little sleep he gets is spent tossing and turning until eventually he gives in and locks himself in his studio.

It’s hard watching the love of your life suffer silently. It’s even harder when he won’t let you in. You tell yourself it’s only temporary and support him for a far. Meals are left at his door. You do everything you can do to be there without hovering.

Jolly is not one to beg.

But tonight—it has all become too unbearable.

He can’t quite pinpoint what it is that he needs, but when his hand connects to the body lying next to him, Jolly feels more at peace than he has in a long time. He blinks away the tears in his eyes—your form becoming more visible in the dark. The soft skin of your arm warms his palm as he runs his hand up and over your shoulder. As you stir, he moves closer. His arm encircles your waist as featherlight kisses are pressed to your skin. Sighing, you arch back into his chest and thread your fingers through his hair. Your scent floods his senses, and he finds himself lost in regret over how neglectful he has been.

You turn towards him encasing his face with your hands. Tracing the edges of his cheeks with your thumbs you begin to see just how tired he truly is. You press your forehead against his. Intimacy between the two of you had certainly suffered in the recent weeks. All the stress and depression that had built up left him feeling inadequate. He could not bear the thought of disappointing you. Jolly pulls you closer and kisses you. A deep, indulgent kiss that ignites you both.

“I need you,” Jolly whispers. “Please.”

You guide his hand under your shirt letting him do the rest. He slides his palm up your stomach and around your breast teasing at the nipple with his thumb and index finger. Your shirt is removed and quickly discarded so he can get his mouth on you. You tug the hair at his scalp as he sucks and bites on your nipple. His muffled moans only make you tug harder. He grabs onto your waist, pulling your leg over his hip. He slots his thigh between your legs, and you mindlessly grind against him. Jolly's hold on you tightens--keeping you firmly against him as you rock back and forth. His focus is now solely on watching you as you use him to reach your high. You feel his thigh muscles flex repeatedly underneath you and it pushes you over the edge. When you orgasm, Jolly swears he sees the same stars that you do. Your thighs clench around his. Your nails dig into his shoulders in the most deliciously painful way. He crashes your lips together—so desperately needing to taste his name as it leaves your lips.

The attention you are receiving is so overwhelming. Jolly’s hands constantly move over your body, touching and grasping anywhere that he can. Your head feels so fuzzy and your body is pulsating. You are so lost in the way his lips feel against your skin that you barely register how hard he is against you. You snake a hand between the two of you and run your fingers over the outline of his cock. You press your palm against him, and he gasps as you rub and cup him from the outside of his sweats. He is so reactive to your touch but flinches as soon as you reach for his waistband.

You pull away immediately and the pained expression you are met with shatters your heart. A quiet apology leaves his lips as he buries his head in the pillow beneath him.

"Did I do something wrong?" You ask, confused.

"No! Of course, not." He sighs, looking back out at you.

“If you’re not ready, it’s okay. We can take a break or try again another time.”

“It's not that.” He groans, sitting up on his elbow. “It's just…everything that has happened. You have supported me through all of it.” Jolly glides his hand over your body; his eyes follow along with every dip and curve. “You feel like a dream and I…I don’t feel like I deserve this.”

“You don’t deserve what?”

Jolly swallows. His eyes cast downwards.

“I don’t deserve to come.”

You shift next to him—closing the space you had made moments before. Your fingers trace the edges of his sweats briefly before pushing your hand inside. When you wrap your fingers around him, he is heavy and leaking in your hand. The second you swipe your thumb over his tip he is moaning into your mouth. You set a slow but steady pace, twisting your wrist the way you know he loves.

“Tell me again,” you speak breathlessly against his lips, “that you don’t deserve this.”

He shutters beneath you, more pre-cum leaks from his tip and you spread it over his cock. Jolly whines your name as he falls back against the pillow. You attach your lips to his neck, your hand picking up the pace to pull more whines from him. He digs his fingernails into your scalp. His hips jerk up to meet your grip.

“Tell me every. little. thing,” you ask between kisses up his jaw, “every single thing that is heavy on your mind.” You sit up to straddle his thighs.

“I'll make sure you forget all of it.”

With one hand stroking his shaft, you focus your other hand on the head. The noise he makes when you spit on his cock nearly makes you forget what you are doing. His nails scratch down your sides—the plump flesh of your ass becomes his anchor as he falls apart in your grasp.

“Say that you deserve to come.”

Jolly chokes, his eyes flying open to meet yours. You repeat yourself and he whimpers. When your hand stops moving he wraps his own around yours, using both of your hands to stroke his cock in an urgent attempt to prolong how intoxicated he felt by your touch.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

He wants to. It’s on the tip of his tongue. He opens his mouth but finds his throat to be completely dry. You’re stunning above him. The two of you move in sync like you were made for each other—always the perfect fit. His orgasm builds inside of him quicker than he thought and he finds himself struggling to hold it back.

He stutters on the words, his voice trembling. He can’t focus. His mind is on too many things at once.

You bend over him. Just far enough to wrap your free hand ever so gently around his jaw. His eyes snap to you without hesitation. You smile sweetly at him, pushing the hair out of his face.

“Come on honey.. say it.”

Jolly swallows. You feel him twitch in your hand.

“I deserve to come.” He says softly.

“What was that?” You grip his jaw a little harder this time. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck, I—” The hand that was once wrapped around yours is now fisting the bed sheets. As he stares up at you, you catch a glimpse of the tears in his eyes. Just when you’re about to stop everything, he sits up and pulls your mouth to his.

When Jolly pulls away he looks down to watch the way your hand moves around his cock. You feel him begin to shake and you know he is not going to last much longer.

“I deserve to come… please…I’m so close.”

You slam your lips against his, nodding to give him the okay. It only takes a few more strokes before he’s spilling over your hand and hoarsely crying out your name. You work him through his orgasm until he’s removing your hand, the overstimulation becoming too much.

Jolly watches you clean the both of you up—something you insisted on. Seeing him this relaxed for the first time in so long made you feel like things were finally getting back to normal.

“I don’t deserve you, käraste.” He whispers as you crawl back in to bed.

“My sweet Joakim.” You whisper back as you settle into his arms. “You deserve everything.”

tags: @concretenoah @foliosriot @deathblacksmoke @darksigns-exe @malice-ov-mercy @baddestomens @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @shilohrosechicken @fadingangelwisp @kait16xo @lacktoesandtoddlerants @collective-heartbreak @collapsedglasshouses @meekahy @cookiesupplier

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #joakim jolly karlsson x reader #jolly karlsson x reader #bad omens smut

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syuga-s · 9 months ago

Text

love you yes

w.c. 7.3k pairing. changkyun x fem!reader genre. this time is just SMUT i'm sorry a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! idk i've had this one sitting around for a while,, does anyone else get this same aura from this man?? he's SO!!! yk, ANYWAYYYY i did this fic for my sake but i still hope you all enjoy it, straight smut, nothing kinky just calling him daddy and him calling you slut once (lovingly), hope i didn't miss anything LOVE Y'ALL

You had always been enchanted by the alluring and provocative nature of shunga art, entranced by the vivid depictions of passion and desire. As you stood in the bustling gallery, surrounded by a sea of people, your gaze fixated on the explicit imagery. Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a presence beside you and turned to see a man, his eyes fixated on the same image that had enraptured you.

"Isn't it fascinating?" he said with a warm smile. "The way they captured every intimate detail, every moment of pleasure."

You couldn't help but nod in agreement, a rush of exhilaration coursing through your veins at the man's audacity in approaching you. The bustling gallery around suddenly faded into the background as his presence enveloped you. His voice was like warm honey, drawing you in with each smooth word, and his confident demeanor only added to his irresistible charm. You found yourself unable to resist him, completely captivated by his boldness and charisma.

"They say that shunga was meant to be both arousing and educational," he continued. "A way for couples to explore their desires and learn from each other."

As he spoke, you felt a tingling energy surge through your body. It was clear that both of you held an intense admiration for this age-old longing, and a sense of connection formed between you in that moment.

"I'm Changkyun," he said, extending his hand towards you.

You took it gently in your own. "Y/N," you replied with a shy smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N," Changkyun said, his warm smile making you feel at ease. You both stood there, surrounded by art full of passion and intimacy. It was as though this exhibit had brought you together for a reason.

Your hands touched and you felt a spark of electricity between you, igniting a fire within you that you hadn't felt in years. Changkyun's gaze lingered on your face as if trying to decipher your thoughts.

As the gallery buzzed with visitors admiring the provocative artwork, Changkyun leaned in closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you like to explore the gallery together? I find that art is best appreciated when shared with someone who understands its true beauty."

You felt a thrill run through you at the prospect of walking with Changkyun by your side. Without hesitation, you nodded in agreement, eager to learn more about art in his company.

You were drawn to him in the sea of art enthusiasts because he seemed genuinely engaged with the work, and not just there to be seen. He studied each piece carefully, his brow furrowed slightly as he took it all in.

Later, when he approached your corner of the gallery, your heart pounded in your chest. This man is out of your league, you reminded yourself silently. But still, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement when your eyes locked again.

“There's something about this particular painting that intrigues me," Changkyun said, gesturing towards a piece depicting two lovers entwined in a passionate embrace.

You moved closer to him, your breath catching as you followed his gaze. This piece was indeed captivating, and it was your favorite, you used vivid colors and intricate details that seemed to come alive under the soft gallery lights.

As you both stood in front of the painting, Changkyun's presence beside you sent a wave of warmth through your body. You found yourself studying your painting with new eyes. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, both of you acutely aware of the magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

"I can't help but wonder what their story is," Changkyun mused, his voice low and husky.

"Maybe they’re forbidden lovers," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the hushed gallery.

“You’re incredibly talented,” Changkyun said after studying your work closely for several minutes.

“Thank you,” you replied with a smile. “It’s always nice when someone recognizes that.”

“Of course,” he said earnestly. “May I ask where your inspiration comes from?”

You felt a rush of vulnerability at his question, unsure whether you were ready to reveal the depths of your creativity to a near stranger. But something in Changkyun's gaze urged you to open up, to share a part of yourself that you rarely showed others.

With a soft sigh, you began to speak, your words tinged with passion and emotion. "It comes from the raw emotions that we all carry within us," you explained, your eyes searching his face for understanding. "I paint to capture the unspoken desires, the hidden truths that lie beneath the surface of our everyday lives."

Changkyun listened intently, his gaze unwavering as he absorbed your words. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a glimmer of recognition that made your heart skip a beat. “That’s fascinating. You seem to capture those beautifully.”

A warmth spread through you at his compliment. “It’s a way for me to explore and express my own feelings too.”

“I can definitely sense that,” Changkyun said, his gaze lingering on one of your paintings. “Your work evokes a strong emotional response.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of validation from his words. “Thank you. It means a lot coming from you, I get the feeling that not everyone appreciates art as much as you do.”

For hours, you lost yourselves in conversation about art, history, and desire. It was as if you were two kindred spirits brought together by your shared passions. Changkyun's knowledge and enthusiasm were intoxicating, leaving you hungry for more.

As the evening drew to a close and the gallery began to empty out, Changkyun offered one last piece of wisdom.

"You know," he said, his voice low and seductive, "shunga was also used as a form of foreplay. Couples would study the images together, letting them ignite their desires before they became lost in each other's arms."

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your body responding to the suggestive tone of his voice. Changkyun's eyes darkened with desire as he watched your reaction.

"Perhaps we could continue this discussion somewhere more... private," he suggested, his words laced with an unmistakable invitation.

Your heart raced at the thought of being alone with him, finally giving in to the electric chemistry that had been building throughout the night. With a simple nod, you let him take your hand and lead you out of the gallery.

Outside, the cool night air did little to quell the fire that burned between you. Changkyun's private car was waiting at the curb, a sleek black sedan with tinted windows.

He held the door open for you, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As you settled into the plush leather seats, the anticipation thick in the air, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at what was to come.

The driver pulled away from the curb, leaving the hustle and bustle of the city behind. In the privacy of his car, the tension between you was palpable, each passing moment filled with unspoken desire.

Changkyun's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you as he leaned in closer. The world outside the car seemed to fade away as his lips met yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. The warmth of his embrace, the sweetness of his touch, all enveloped you in a haze of desire.

As the car sped towards its destination, Changkyun's hands explored every inch of you, igniting a fire within your core. You moaned into his mouth as he cupped your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress, teasing your sensitive nipples to hardened peaks.

You lost yourself in Changkyun's embrace, feeling a connection unlike any you had experienced before. His hands explored your body with a reverence that made your heart race, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

The driver glanced at you in the rearview mirror, but you were too consumed by passion to care. With one swift motion, Changkyun reached forward and pulled up the partition, enclosing you in a bubble of desire. Now shielded from intrusive eyes, you could fully indulge in your hunger without inhibition.

With the barrier in place, Changkyun's touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing tantalizing patterns along your skin. You arched into his embrace, craving more of his electrifying touch.

When the car finally came to a stop outside his luxurious penthouse, Changkyun wasted no time in leading you inside, his lips never leaving yours as he eagerly explored your mouth. As you stumbled through the door, your clothes fell to the floor in a trail of discarded fabrics. Naked and exposed, you stood there for a moment, taking in each other's bodies.

The air was heavy with anticipation as he guided you to his bedroom, where the soft glow of fixtures casted shadows across the room.

Changkyun's eyes devoured your curves, his desire for you evident in the way his eyes lingered on every inch of your nude form. He took your hand and led you to the bed, his touch electrifying as he guided you to the soft mattress.

He pulled you down with him, his body pressing against yours. You could feel the hardness of his erection against your abdomen, a testament to his arousal.

Changkyun's lips trailed down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. He kissed his way to your breasts, his tongue flicking over your nipples, making them stand at attention.

You moaned softly, your body trembling with anticipation. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting gently, making you arch your back and moan in pleasure.

Changkyun was everything you had imagined and more. His muscular frame glistened, and his hard cock stood proud, asking for your undivided attention. You couldn't help but feel a surge of delight knowing that you were the one who was making him hard.

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you knelt down and enveloped him with your mouth, relishing in the pulsing sensation of his entire being. A low moan of delight escaped him as you teased his velvety skin with your tongue, drawing circles around his most sensitive spot before engulfing him fully in your throat.

As you continued to pleasure Changkyun, you could feel his hand tangling in your hair, pulling you closer to him. You moaned around his cock, loving the way he tasted.

His hips bucked beneath you, thrusting himself deeper into your mouth. You could feel him hitting the back of your throat, which only made you want him more.

His hand left your hair and began to caress your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm. It sent a quiver of desire through you.

"That's it, baby," he whispered breathlessly. "Take all of me. Show me what you can do."

With a renewed sense of purpose, you began to suck harder, his shaft throbbing in your mouth. Your eyes watered from the intensity, but he refused to let go. Changkyun groaned loudly, his hips jerking uncontrollably. You could feel his balls tightening and knew he was about to cum.

As a stream of warm liquid filled your mouth, you greedily swallowed it down, the taste of him was intoxicating—earthy and musky with a hint of sweetness—, and for a few moments, you stayed on your knees, still savoring him.

As you looked up at Changkyun's flushed face and heaving chest, you knew that this was just the beginning of the night.

Changkyun pulled you to your feet, his eyes filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. He kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as your bodies pressed together, the heat between you still unbearable.

Changkyun kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses and lingering bites that sent shivers down your spine. He settled between your thighs, spreading them wide to give him full access to your dripping core.

His hot breath fanned across your sensitive folds, making you ache with need. You moaned softly as he dipped his tongue into your wetness, tracing circles around your clit before suckling it gently into his mouth.

You gripped the sheets beneath you as he expertly tormented you with his skilled tongue. Waves of pleasure crashed over you with each flick and swirl, building an inferno of need deep within you.

You arched your back off the bed as he added two fingers to the mix, thrusting them in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. Your walls clenched around him as you neared the edge of ecstasy, desperate for release.

Sensing your urgency, Changkyun quickened his pace, pumping his fingers into you while lashing at your swollen clit with his tongue. The coil inside you tightened until it was almost unbearable before finally snapping free.

Your body shuddered and convulsed as you came, your cry of pleasure echoing through the room. Changkyun continued to lavish attention on your sensitive spots, milking every last drop of pleasure from your body.

Finally, he pulled away, his breaths heavy and his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leaned in to kiss you, his lips tender and passionate yet demanding in their depth.

"I want to be inside you," he whispered hoarsely, his body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

"I want that too," you breathed, your desire for him still burning bright.

With a flourish, he reached for a condom and rolled it onto his throbbing erection. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours as he entered you slowly, filling you completely.

You moaned at the sensation, your body adjusting to his size and penetration. He began to set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against yours with powerful thrusts.

The sound of your bodies colliding filled the room along with your ragged breaths and sinful moans. It was as if you were two souls perfectly attuned to each other's desires, lost in a symphony of pleasure and passion.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper as he fucked you relentlessly.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer with each thrust, his cock hitting your G-spot with precision. You cried out, the pleasure-pain washing over you like a tidal wave.

Changkyun's eyes locked onto yours, the hunger in them growing more intense with each passing moment. He increased his pace, his hips slamming against your body with a ferocity that was both painful and exhilarating.

You could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a breaking point. Your walls clenched around him, stilling his movements for a moment as he groaned, his erection twitching inside you.

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his voice low and husky. "Let me feel you come around me."

With those words, you shattered beneath him like fragile glass, every nerve ending on fire as you rode out wave after wave of mind-numbing bliss. Changkyun's movements grew erratic as he chased his own release, thrusting into you with abandon until he finally found his own sweet release.

With a guttural cry, he emptied himself, and you held him close as his body shuddered with the force of his orgasm, your hearts pounding in sync as you slowly came back down to earth.

You lay tangled together, limbs intertwined, basking in the afterglow of merging of two souls into one.

As your breathing returned to normal, Changkyun rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Changkyun's fingers traced lazy circles on your skin. With a contented sigh, you turned to him, a question lingering on your lips.

"Changkyun, what do you do for a living?" you asked, curiosity piqued by the enigmatic man beside you.

He let out a soft chuckle, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Ah, the fancy world of art brokering," he responded with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "I'm just a middleman, making deals to appease wealthy collectors."

"Well, well, look at you, Mr. Art Expert," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at him.

Changkyun's grin widened, mischief glinting in his eyes. "Oh, you have no idea," he said playfully but with a knowing tone. "But someone's got to do it, right?"

Lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, Changkyun turned to you, a question lingering on his lips. "You know, I've been thinking about what I saw earlier, about your art and the passion you clearly have.”

Changkyun's gaze softened, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "I’m thinking," he began, his voice gentle, "Y/N, your talent, your passion—it's undeniable. And I believe that with the right guidance, you could achieve great things."

You looked at him, surprise flickering in your eyes. "What do you mean?" you asked, curiosity tinged with excitement.

"I mean, I see potential in you that I don't often see in people," Changkyun explained, his gaze never leaving yours. "And I want to help you harness that potential, reach for the stars. Would you like that?"

His words filled you with a mix of wonder and gratitude, and you nodded, your breath catching in your throat. "Yes, I-I would," you stammered, feeling honored and touched by his offer.

Changkyun smiled, a warmth spreading across his face. "Good. Then let's start by visiting my gallery tomorrow," he said, and you felt a surge of pride and excitement.

"Your gallery?" you asked, not quite believing it.

"Yes, my gallery. It's where I showcase the best art I can find, and I think you should be a part of it," he said, his hand still tracing patterns on your skin.

Your heart swelled at his offer. To have someone like Changkyun believe in you and your work—it was a dream come true. "I don't know what to say," you murmured, overcome with emotion.

Changkyun reached out and took your hand in his, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to say anything honey," he said softly. "I want to do this for you."

And true to his word, Changkyun became not only your mentor but also your partner and patron. Together, you attended gallery openings, networking events, and exhibitions. With him by your side, you felt unstoppable.

As an artist in her mid-20s who grew up in a regular town, it's still hard for you to believe this is your life now. Changkyun has shown you so much of the world already—trips to Berlin, Rome and Paris for art shows—and there are even bigger things planned on the horizon.

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing on the bedside table. The screen illuminates, displaying a text from Changkyun.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I'm sorry to disturb your sleep, but I have an early meeting and just wanted to remind you that I won't be home for breakfast. There's money on the kitchen counter if you need anything. Have a great day! xx"

You smile and yawn simultaneously at his sweet message. Changkyun has been such a wonderful boyfriend - well, more like sugar daddy - since you started dating a few months ago. Not only is he incredibly generous, but he's also so supportive of your art career, and he continues to give you opportunities and connections that you could have only dreamed of before.

You stretch your limbs under the soft sheets before getting out of bed. Padding barefoot across your - his - apartment, which is filled with artwork both have collected together over the past months, you find his handwritten note: "Have a beautiful day, love," accompanied by a stack of bills.

But perhaps what surprises you the most about this new life is how amazing it feels when Changkyun fucks you. It feels real, not transactional like you thought it would at first (not that there's anything wrong with that). The way he makes love to every inch of your body sometimes makes you feel like you’re going to melt away into nothingness.

The memory comes rushing back as you stare at his note, a warm flush of desire spreading through you. The way he looks at you with those dark eyes, full of a warmth and hunger that's so intoxicating. His large hands skimming over your skin, leaving sparks under his touch. The way his lips move against your own, each kiss deepening the connection between you.

You shake your head to clear the images from your mind. You had work to do. Lately, you’ve been feeling inspired to create a new series of paintings based on the experiences you’ve been livng with Changkyun.

As you set up your easel and lay out your paints, you let yourself drift back into those memories for inspiration. It's like flicking through a rolodex of the most vivid fantasies—Changkyun fucking you in your Paris hotel room; Changkyun fucking you against the floor-to-ceiling window of his gallery; Changkyun eating you out on the rooftop terrace of his New York penthouse.

The familiar heat between your legs grows more intense as you picture each scene in vivid detail. You can practically feel his hands on your body, his mouth on yours. Your nipples pucker beneath your thin cotton top as you remember how it feels when he takes them into his mouth one by one, sucking and biting until you’re gasping for air.

You slide a hand down over the curve of your hip to slip under the waistband of your panties. Your pussy already soaked with need, hot and swollen as you circle two fingers over your clit. You moan softly to yourself.

Lost in fantasy, you don't hear the door open or feel the presence behind you until it's too late. "Naughty girl," a low voice murmurs right next to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You should know better than to play with yourself without permission."

You turn your head to find Changkyun standing there, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his lips. You feel a flush of embarrassment wash over you, but it's quickly replaced by a surge of desire as you meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," you say breathlessly. "I couldn't help it. I was just thinking about you and—" Before you can finish the sentence, he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you to your feet. His eyes are dark with hunger as he captures your lips in a ruthless kiss.

"Turn around," he growls against your mouth.

Your knees go weak at the command in his voice, but you manage to do as he says. You face the easel again, bracing yourself against it with both hands. A moment later, you hear the sound of fabric rustling, followed by Changkyun's hand coming down to fondle your ass cheek, before you could blink a hard slap came.

"Mmm… such a pretty little slut," he purrs. "Did you enjoy teasing yourself while you thought of me?"

"Yes," you moan, arching into another spank.

He chuckles low in his throat before trailing hot kisses down the curve of your spine. Your t-shirt pushed up around your shoulders now, leaving your back bare for him to feast upon. Each kiss is like a jolt of electricity straight to your core, making you ache for more.

He reached for your panties and immediately tugged them down until they were pooling around your ankles. He pressed a hand between your shoulder blades to keep you steady as cool air rushed over your exposed flesh.

"Mmm… look at this pretty pussy," he murmurs appreciatively. "So wet and prepared for me." You whimper as his fingers brush over your soaked folds, teasing you with light, feathery touches. "Please, Changkyun," you moan. "I need you."

He chuckles again and slides two fingers deep inside you in one smooth motion. Your walls clench around him, still as tight and eager as the first time he ever touched you like this. "Is this what you need, sweetheart? Or do you prefer my cock—huh?—filling up this greedy little hole?"

His thumb find your clit and rubs slow circles over the sensitive nub as he sets a punishing pace with his fingers. Each thrust is like a shockwave rippling through you from head to toe, building the pressure in your core higher and higher until you’re on the edge of pure bliss.

"Do you want to come for me, baby?" he growls. "Tell me how badly you need it."

"So fucking bad," You moan desperately. "Please, daddy, let me cum for you." He grins against your skin before pulling his hand away completely. Making you whine at the loss of contact but you get silenced by a sharp gasp as something much bigger takes its place.

"Oh fuck," you pant as he slowly sinks into you inch by agonizing inch. He feels so good stretching you open like this—the perfect combination of hard and soft that always leaves you craving more. When his hips are flush against yours, he rests a hand on the small of your back to hold you steady.

"Better?" You can hear that smug smile in his voice even without looking at him.

"So much better," you breathe out.

Without any warning or hesitation, Changkyun pulls back and slams forward again with enough force to knock the (easel) breath right out of your lungs. He sets a relentless pace right from the start—every thrust deeper and harder than the last—as if trying to fuck all thoughts from your mind except for him.

You cling to the easel for dear life, moaning and gasping like a wanton slut as he uses you. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the air, along with the scent of sex and sweat. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly with each thrust, your orgasm just out of reach. "Please," begging him to let you finish. "I'm so close daddy."

Changkyun grunts in response, but it's not clear if he heard you or if he even cares. Then his hand wraps around your hip, angling it just so to change the angle of his cock—right against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your walls clamp down on him instinctively as the ecstasy crashes over you. Vaguely aware of loud moans filling the room—neither one of you is able nor willing to hold back anymore—as Changkyun fucks you through your orgasm until he's coming too, pulsing hot and heavy inside you.

You stay like that for a few moments until your breathing slows down and your heart rates return to normal. Changkyun finally slips out of you with a low groan before turning you around to face him with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Then you're hit with a sudden wave of dizziness. Your legs feel like jelly, and you grab onto his shoulders for support, feeling light-headed from the intensity of your session.

Changkyun raises an eyebrow, concern flickering in his gaze as he steadies you. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine worry.

You manage a sheepish grin, feeling slightly embarrassed by your body's dramatic reaction. "I think my body is protesting the lack of food," you confess.

And if you weren’t flustered enough, your stomach growled loudly, protesting the lack of sustenance, and you can't help but feel a pang of shyness.

Changkyun quirks an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes as he notices your predicament. "Hungry, are we?" he teases, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I think I might've forgotten to eat breakfast," you mumble sheepishly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks.

Changkyun's expression softens, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "Let's get some food into you before you faint on me," he says gently, guiding you to the kitchen where he prepares you a quick breakfast of pancakes and fresh fruit.

You sat at the kitchen table, nibbling on your pancakes while Changkyun went about his preparations. The embarrassment you felt earlier had dissipated, leaving only warmth in its place. He was like a comforting blanket, wrapping around you when your world threatened to crumble.

Your gaze wandered towards him, taking in every detail of his face as he moved. The way his lips curved upwards in a half-smile was always enough to make your heart flutter. There was an intensity to him that was both alluring and terrifying, but you knew that he was also capable of tenderness.

He placed a plate of fresh fruit in front of you, a slice of watermelon artistically arranged, surrounded by raspberries and strawberries. It was a tiny gesture, but it meant the world to you. You had always appreciated the thought he put into even the smallest details.

On a lazy Saturday afternoon, you were sprawled out on the luxurious couch in the penthouse, gazing out at the lush greenery of Central Park. Lost in your own world of drawing and designing, you were pulled back to reality by Changkyun's captivating presence as he sweetly demanded your attention.

"Let's take a break," he suggested. "I have something that you might enjoy more than working." Intrigued, you observed as he walked over to his wooden cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of amber liquid.

"This is my favorite scotch," Changkyun explained as he poured you each a glass. "It's aged for twenty-five years in sherry casks from Spain." He handed you a glass before raising his own in a toast.

"Are we celebrating something?" You tilt your head slightly, questioning him with a playful glint in your eyes.

"Not really love," he chuckled, leaning in close to kiss your cheek. "I just wanted to share something special with you. You deserve it."

Taking a sip of the amber liquid, you were taken aback by the rich, smoky flavor that sang across your tongue. You couldn't help but let out a small moan of appreciation.

"You like it?" Changkyun asked, a hint of pride in his voice.

"I do," you admitted, taking another sip to savor the taste. "It's incredibly smooth."

He smiled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

As you sat on the plush leather couch, sipping your drinks, the atmosphere in your shared space felt different.

“Come here,” Changkyun beckoned, his voice low and alluring, as he gracefully rose from the couch and made his way towards the grand piano that occupied a prominent corner of the room. A piano that had to be worth more than your entire art collection. The polished wood gleamed under the gentle illumination, its intricate carvings and gleaming keys a testament to its opulence.

Entranced by his magnetic presence, you followed him eagerly, your heart fluttering with anticipation. As you approached, the scent of aged wood and delicate piano polish enveloped you, adding to the allure of the moment.

Reaching the piano's side, Changkyun paused, his fingers hovering tantalizingly over the smooth surface of the instrument. With a reverent touch, he traced the elegant curves of the piano's frame, a subtle smile playing upon his lips.

Without hesitation, you reached out, grasping onto his shirt and pulling him closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull he had on you.

He chuckled softly at your eagerness, his touch sending shivers down your spine as his hand slid up under your hair, gripping it firmly. The intensity in his gaze never wavered as he spoke, his words dripping with sincerity and adoration.

“You’re amazing baby,” he murmured against your skin, trailing kisses along your jawline. “I'm in awe of everything you are. I want you to know how it feels to be with someone who loves you.”

His words lingered in the air, filling you with a heady mix of desire and anticipation. And then, without missing a beat, he turned back to the piano, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys as he began to play.

His fingers moved across the ivory keys with effortless precision. The melody filled the room, weaving its way through the air like a delicate tapestry of sound, evoking a profuse emotions with each note.

As you listened, you were captivated by the fluidity of Changkyun's movements, the passion that infused every chord he struck. The music seemed to speak to something deep within you, stirring feelings that you had long kept hidden.

Lost in the melody, you glanced at Changkyun, marveling at the intensity of his focus as he poured his heart and soul into the performance. His eyes sparkled with a quiet determination, his expression one of pure concentration as he allowed the music to guide him.

You found yourself utterly captivated by the raw emotion woven into every note. The music seemed to transcend time and space, enveloping you in its haunting beauty and leaving you breathless in its wake.

When he finally concluded the piece, the final notes lingering in the air like a whisper, you couldn't help but be filled with awe at the experience he had just shared with you. The intensity of the moment lingered, echoing in the silence that followed.

"I didn't know you actually played the piano," you whispered softly, your voice filled with genuine admiration and surprise. It was a revelation that left you feeling even more connected to Changkyun, as if there were still depths to him waiting to be discovered.

He met your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes shining with quiet satisfaction. "Surprise," he said playfully, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"It's just another of my hidden talents," he replied with a smirk, his lips twitching upward. "But tell me, do you like how it sounds? I know I've never played for you before."

You licked your lips nervously, trying to find the right words to convey your sincerity. "I loved it. The music is so...soothing and passionate all at once. It's unlike anything I've ever heard before."

Changkyun's ego swelled at your compliment, and he couldn't help but feel proud of himself. He leaned in closer, the scent of his cologne enveloping you in a warm embrace. "You have no idea how much that means to me," he whispered, his voice low and velvety.

He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over your cheek before pulling you into a warm embrace. Your body melted into his and he added, "There's always more to discover about each other, isn't there?"

You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of warmth wash over you at his light-hearted response. "Absolutely," you agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Why were you staring so hard at me?" he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Felt like you were gonna burn a hole through me."

His unexpected comment caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but laugh at his playful act. "Do you have to be so aware of everything all the time?," you replied with a grin, feeling a rush of affection for his lighthearted spirit. "I was just mesmerized by you."

Changkyun chuckled, his laughter echoing through the room as he leaned in closer to you. "Well, I can't blame you for being dazzled by my talents," he quipped, his tone brimming with playful arrogance.

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation, playfully swatting at his arm. "Please," you retorted with a smirk. "Don't let that ego of yours get too big now."

Changkyun's playful banter continued, his words laced with a teasing tone that misrepresented the underlying intensity of his desire.

"Weren't you aware that flattery gets you far in life?" he remarked, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of mischief. Despite his mocking tone, you couldn't help but sense the growing heat of his desire simmering just beneath the surface.

"I was just trying to figure out where I knew the melody from."

"Ah, that would be The Swan by Saint-Saens," he smiled, his eyes sparkling with pride. "I took piano lessons as a child, but I've always loved this piece. I never thought I would have the chance to play it for someone special."

At your surprised look, he added, "And you are most definitely special, my dear. More than you could ever know."

You felt yourself blush even harder, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. "You don't have to say that," you murmured, looking down at the floor.

"But I do," Changkyun insisted, his voice firm and full of conviction. He reached out and cupped your chin, tilted your head up so that you were looking into his eyes. "I love you, and I want you to know how much."

His words hung in the air for a moment, thick with the weight of their meaning. You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sincerity of his gaze.

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly on your chin, holding your gaze. A smile slowly spread across his face, a mix of happiness and relief washing over him.

You felt your heart swell, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You wanted to say more, to tell him everything you felt, but the words were stuck in your throat. All you could do was smile back at him, a genuine smile that spoke volumes about how you felt in that moment.

Your lips locked in a passionate kiss with his and you couldn't help but melt into his arms. You gave in to the irresistible temptation of his touch as his hands explored your body, leaving a trail of heat behind them. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers slipped under your shirt.

His touch was like molten lava, searing your skin as he caressed your bare flesh, and you moaned softly as his lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him as his hands continued their sensual exploration of your body, and you could feel your desire building to an almost unbearable level.

"Changkyun," you breathed, your voice thick with need as you clung to him desperately. "I want you." He pulled away slightly, his gaze locking with yours as he grinned wickedly. "I know," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Haven't I always given you everything you want?"

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he slowly began to remove your clothes. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched him undress you, anticipation and desire mingling within you as he exposed your bare skin to the cool air of the room.

Once you were completely naked before him, he took a moment to admire your body, his gaze traveling over every curve and dip as if he were committing them to memory. Then, without warning, he suddenly scooped you up into his arms, causing you to squeal in surprise.

"Where are we going?" you demanded, even as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support. He just gave you a smirk, and carried you over to the piano bench and setting you down gently. "Right here," he said, his voice low and seductive as he positioned himself between your legs. "I want to make love to you right here."

Your eyes widened in shock, but you couldn't deny the thrill that ran through you at his words. "Hmm are you sure?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, his eyes darkening with lust as he gazed down at you. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life," he murmured, his fingers tracing lightly over your skin. "I want to hear you moan my name as I fuck you, right here in the middle of our living room."

Your heart raced at his words, and you could feel the heat of your arousal pooling between your thighs. As Changkyun's hands roamed over your body, you surrendered to his touch, letting out a soft moan as his fingers brushed against your sensitive nipples.

He took that as encouragement to continue exploring every inch of your skin with his mouth, savoring each bit of flesh.

“So pretty,” he growled before lowering his head to take one nipple between his lips, teasing it gently with his tongue.

You arched into him instinctively and felt a surge of wetness between your legs. His hands roamed freely over the rest of your body—tracing the curve of your hip

“What’s mine is mine alone.” while slowly slipping one finger inside you. “And you are absolutely mine.”

“Yes,” you gasped as another finger joined the first one, stretching you open even more. “All yours.” You lay there naked and vulnerable, every nerve ending on high alert, as he studied you intently.

“Perfect,” he said simply before pulling your legs from the piano bench towards him. He lifted them over his shoulders and buried his face between them, his tongue finding your clit expertly.

You moaned and arched into him as he licked and sucked, his fingers thrusting in and out of you in time with the movements of his mouth. He already knew exactly what you wanted without having to ask.

He stood up suddenly and shed the rest of his clothes quickly before returning to you. You now found yourself lying on the floor with Changkyun hovering above you, his cock hard and ready. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. Then he positioned himself at your entrance and pushed inside you in one smooth motion.

You gasped at the sensation of being so completely full of him. He always felt incredible—thick and long and oh so perfect for you. He stilled for a moment to let you adjust before pulling out slightly and then pushing back in again.

You moved together slowly at first, both of you savoring the feeling of your bodies joined like this. But soon your movements became more urgent as the edge approached.

You gripped onto one of the piano legs for support as Changkyun pounded into you relentlessly. Every thrust sent shockwaves through your body until finally, you were both teetering on the brink.

“Come for me, baby,” Changkyun growled as he hit that perfect spot deep inside you one final time. “now please.”

You shattered around him in a cascade of pleasure that left you breathless. His own orgasm followed yours closely; you could feel him pulsing inside you as you both rode out the waves of bliss.

Afterwards, you lay together on the floor, panting and sweaty but utterly satisfied. Changkyun pulled you close to him and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion. "So, so much baby."

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with happiness. "I love you too," you replied, snuggling closer to him.

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