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endless-ineffabilities · 3 months ago

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chemical override (7)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: again, I'm thanking all of yous for fueling the chemical override fire! Your comments/messages are so sweet and hilarious and wild - just as this story demands <3 Happy reading!

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The arrangement you and Ewan share is in place, but jealousy rears its ugly head when another costar takes an interest in you. It isn't Aemond's allegiance that renders Ewan green-eyed, so to speak...

London

Whenever Ewan needs you, you answer the call.

Because, in truth, you need him too. This might not be the most savoury of arrangements; it might not be what you pictured in your head when you thought of getting back together.

But this way, you can have him, and he can have you.

It's a win-win situation. Even if you're not his, and he's not yours, as he so nicely put it.

So you're there when his need arises. Which, as it happens, arises often - intense, wanton, and greedy. He takes you for himself, your body left littered with markings that can only be from his teeth, his fingers, his aching manhood.

Beads of sweat would cloud your vision as the side of your face is pressed to the mattress, your legs bent to give him better access, so that he sinks deeper. He would whisper, - you're mine... you're mine... fuckin' mine, darling - when he leans down to pant roughly in your ear, momentarily forgetting about the one condition of this whole thing.

You're not his. But as he finishes inside of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss, you also have it in you to conveniently forget.

Your respective apartments in London set the stage for your trysts. Ewan comes over so often that he's had to use the back entrance, after getting papped once on a foggy Sunday morning, leaving your apartment building in the same clothes that he wore when he entered at midnight.

LATE NIGHT RENDEZVOUS! - on page 6! Game of Thrones spinoff stars can't get enough of each other!

When Ewan said that the whole thing was going to be a secret, he must have failed to account for the near-impossibility of that notion for a celebrity.

What can be kept secret for those in your line of work?

A romance between two young, highly coveted actors will see the light of day eventually, aided by the blinding flashes of papparazzi cameras.

Predictably, your friends catch on and demand to know how you little lovebirds found your way back together, because of course, they always knew you would.

Sadly, you have to burst Phia's bubble when she calls one evening. "We're not back together."

A pause. She mulls it over. "But the papers..."

"I know."

"He's been seeing you... " She claims, her tone growing unsure.

"He has."

"Then what... oh." You can practically picture the realisation coming across her face. Would it be accompanied by distaste or disappointment? Neither is good anyhow.

"We're seeing each other. But, not really, if you get what I mean."

"No!" she exclaims. You can hear shuffling in the background, like she just slammed the book she was reading shut. "Whose brilliant idea was this?"

"That's doesn't mat - "

"It's Ewan's, isn't it?" she answers, confirming her own suspicion. "That little devious bastard."

"It's not his fault," you find yourself shaking your head, then you startle as the buzzer to your apartment gets your attention. The routine is in place - it's the receptionist letting you know that Ewan is in the lobby. Speak of the devil...

Hmm. You walk to the intercom to let him upstairs, thinking of him coming to claim his prize. But he's not the devil - he's my twisted angel, whose heart I broke.

Phia isn't finished. "What do you mean, it's not his fault? If this was his idea, then let me just talk to the lad and screw his bloody head on straight."

You stand by the door, waiting for his arrival, because whenever Ewan needs you, you're there.

You need him too.

"Phi, I... I want this," you reply. "I have to go."

"Babe, we're not done here. You're not getting off easy."

"I know, I know," you smile at her genuine concern. "Maybe you're right, maybe this all wrong." But...

You know you don't have to say it outright. It's there to see, clear as day.

You love him.

She sighs loudly, resigning herself to the truth of her friend's predicament. "You'll figure this out, the both of you."

"Hope so, Phi." The doorbell rings. You rush through your goodbyes, dropping the call with a promise to keep her updated on what she deems a ridiculous situation.

You greet him at the door, and he stands there, with his black hoodie obscuring his face like he's Daemon about to do some nefarious act of sorts. And he just might. He chews on his lip, and smirks as he takes you in.

"Darling," he greets as he lets himself in. He shrugs off his hoodie and drops it in its usual corner, before beckoning for you with his arms reaching.

He runs his fingers through your hair, as he kisses your neck and inhales your scent, purring, " - fuckin' missed you, beautiful - " as his skilled fingers find the hem of your old shirt.

"My darling girl," he says, and you so badly want to hate him, because he's not being fair. Why does he get to act like this matters to him, when he made it clear that this is only so both your needs are met? Why does he look at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat in hope, with those same blue eyes that blazed when he once said he loved you?

How can you make sure that you don't fall back in love with him, when that love was never truly gone?

"Ewan," you moan as he pushes you against a wall, his rough hands kneading your flesh. You help him pull his shirt over his head, and your fingers drag upward along his skin until it finds the silver chain around his neck. You use it to pull him even closer, not a breadth of space between you.

He kisses you, and it's like an anchor finding home.

Yours or his, it matters little.

It nearly bubbles out of the two of you - those forbidden three words - each time his hips slam right into yours. It's almost there, fighting, waiting to be heard. His 'I really do fucking love you', and your 'I'm sorry about everything, about lying, all I ever wanted was you.'

Nearly. If only things were that simple.

He never stays for long afterward. Small talk is shared - about his new film, the ongoing production for yours, the upcoming engagements you both have for season 3 of House of the Dragon. The bloody weather, even.

The holidays have come and gone, and soon the two of you will again have to fly out to work - you, back to Atlanta; him, to LA for the pre-production of his film with Jenna Ortega.

He took on the film after all, and you should be relieved, but it's hard to feel any sense of ease when you know he will have to be with her in a way that he can't be with you. To the rest of the world, soon enough, they will have to play at being together. Your only claim to him rests in between the sheets, in the countless hollow trysts to be shared.

He doesn't reach for you after the deed is done, after his clothes are back in place and his hair is relieved of that post-sex tousle. As if touching you would cast him aflame.

But you feel his eyes linger on you, all the time, especially when you try to avert your gaze.

What is he thinking, you wonder. Who does he see?

On his way out, he has to deal with an obstacle in order to retrieve his hoodie. An adorable one, at that. Your black Bobtail cat, Sansa, nestles comfortably atop it. Her paws grip the cotton material of the hoodie as Ewan tries to pull it away.

"She likes you," you smile at the sight of Ewan gingerly trying to lift Sansa so she doesn't lash out at him. Even though the likelihood to that is low, with Sansa taking so well to Ewan's constant presence, so much so that you sometimes find her meowing at the door waiting for him to come back. The traitor.

"Good girl," he whispers to her, his hoodie almost released from the weight of her fluffy shape. "That's it."

Then he turns to you, smiling as he shrugs his hoodie back on. "I don't think she wants me to leave."

Like mother, like daughter, comes your thought. But when he straightens, and appraises you with a sideways glance, an amused hum escaping his lips, you realise that you said it out loud.

He smirks openly to himself, his ego blossoming. You roll your eyes at him, mumbling, "Oh, give me a break."

He simply shrugs, walking over to the door.

"I'll call you," he calls over his shoulder as a matter of courtesy, but he sounds uncertain, and the question lingers. Please don't say no, his tone practically begs.

How can you ever?

Arms crossed in an attempt to act nonchalant, leaning against the wall, you smile and say, "Try not to miss me too much, Mitchell."

His eyes linger as they always do. "Impossible task," he responds, casually, unaware that he just upended your whole world with his words.

He solidifies the grip he has on you, before he leaves.

And so the fucked up cycle continues.

Los Angeles

A ginger tabby cat slinks around Ewan's ankles as he sits in the director's office, reminding him of your Sansa and the way she would slink in between your bodies the moment she finds an opening, which is usually after the heated roll in the hay.

He smiles to himself on instinct, remembering how you once shared that you wanted to adopt another cat, preferably a Ragdoll, and name him Benjicat.

"Benjicat?" Ewan had asked.

"Yeah," you smiled, as you stroked a purring Sansa between her ears. "Benjicat Blackwood."

Ewan merely blinked, the connection dawning on him, the brilliance of your idea not lost on his supposedly indifferent mind. He could not hold back his warm and appreciative smile as he gazed at you, and for a moment, he pretended that things were back as they were.

He briefly had the idea that, perhaps, you should adopt the future Benjicat together.

Until the bitter thought crossed his mind - he wasn't the one who quashed that possibility first.

In the office in LA, Jenna sits daintily across from him, still aloof and somewhat of a stranger. She had given him a shy smile when she sat down at the table, exchanged pleasantries and surface-level compliments, the works.

Ewan feels nervous, almost ill at ease, and he normally would be able to single out the reasons why. It could be the notion of meeting an acclaimed director and his future costars. Trying not to stumble on his words, messing up their first impression of him. Maybe he had chainsmoked one cigarette too many before the meeting, worsening the anxiety-inducing effect of his staple black coffee with six sugars.

But this is different. He knows the thing he is dreading is when the matter of the PR business will be brought up.

So he doesn't know what emotion comes over him when the director, Autumn de Wilde, lightly remarks in an attempt to break the tension, "So, Ewan, how's your girlfriend?"

"M-my girlfriend?"

"Yeah," she says jovially, "your costar right? It's all over the socials."

"Oh, I love her," Jenna chimes in. "Is she back in England or is she filming somewhere?"

She's not my girlfriend, is what he should say, but he can't push the words out of his mouth. He's not even sure he wants to. After all, that is why he had the idea for the friends with benefits arrangement in the first place - because he can't cope with the fact that you're not his girfriend anymore.

"Mmm, yeah, she's - uhhh - she's filming in Atlanta," Ewan answers, dodging the main question, but not really.

"Well, say hello to her for me," Autumn says. "She's a keeper, huh? What with her being okay with the PR bullshit you will have to do."

Jenna purses her lips apologetically at him, then remarks, "I don't like that Bruce guy. I know some people who worked with him, and they share the sentiment."

Ewan feels lighter, knowing that they're on the same page. He asks tentatively, "That PR thing... is it set in stone or - ?"

Autumn sighs, "Apparently so, kid. But I heard along the grapevine that great ol' Brucey is dealing with some suit and he might have to pull out of the film."

"Some suit?" Ewan asks.

"A lawsuit," Jenna says.

"Oh." What the fuck. "If he pulls out then what that does mean for us?"

"Halle-fuckin-lujah, that's what," Autumn laughs. "More creative control, more logistics control... more happiness for everyone, really."

"Does that mean the PR relationship will be scrapped?" Ewan blurts out, before sheepishly adding to Jenna, "I mean, no offense - "

"None taken," she shakes her head at him. "I never had a liking for that stuff anyway."

"Well, we'd have to consult with the rest of the execs but they're a lot more likely to be conducive to requests," Autumn says.

Ewan feels a rush of relief, one he immediately wishes he can share with you. If you only you stuck it out with him. If only you didn't leave him hanging at the first sign of trouble.

If only you weren't unsure of how you felt about him.

He calls you afterward, because he wants to, the last remaining shred of his resentment towards you be damned.

"Production nearly finished, darling?" He asks, the pretense of holding back from using the term of endearment long since abandoned.

"Mhmm, I've got one more week here in Atlanta, Mitchell."

You've gone back to calling him Mitchell - not baby, love, or anything remotely romantic.

It bothers him, but he's determined not to let it show.

"I've got about a week and a half here still."

"Then we've got season three prep in London, right?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "I'll see you back there I suppose."

"Okay," you reply, sounding uncertain of what to say next. "Are you... is everything okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he automatically says. "I just thought... maybe I can come see you."

He listens to your steady breathing at the other end, and it calms him. He waits in silence, until you respond with, "Aren't you busy out there, Ewan?"

He is, and he is aware that it makes him seem desperate. It has only been a few weeks since your last rendezvous back in London, and he is supposed to remain nonchalant. Unaffected. This is not supposed to be some kind of lifeline for him. The thought of you should not be what runs through his mind at every waking moment.

He contradicts all of that, when he admits, "I am, but I want to see you anyway. I can fly out for a day and we could - "

"Ewan - "

"I need you."

You sigh deeply, and he pictures the silhouette of your shoulders rising and falling, the pinch in between your brows, the concerned frown your lips take the shape of.

He misses you. Do you miss him too?

"I know," you say. "But I'll see you soon in London, okay?"

That was not the answer he wanted. There are times when you sound dispassionate and he feels like you couldn't give less of a shit about him, and it kills him.

Even though it shouldn't, and this is what he should have expected, after proposing the arrangement.

But there are also times when you give him a spark of hope to cling to.

"Besides," you muse, "we'll soon have to prepare to give the fans what they want. All the love for Aemond and Alyna surely will not be ignored by the writers. I know I'm rooting for them."

Ewan laughs, "I am too."

Aemond and Alyna. You and him. There are fans, and there are fans, and Ewan is proudly a member of the latter.

"Okay, so, I have to head back inside," you say. "I - uhhh - "

"Yeah, darling, I'll see you soon." I miss you.

"Hmm," you respond, stealing his signature line right from his lips.

He stays on the line, unwilling to let you go.

"Mitchell?" you ask.

"Yes, love?"

"I guess you missed me too much after all."

He smiles wistfully, "I guess I did."

London

Production for your film wraps in early February, just in time for the initial preparations for the upcoming season of House of the Dragon.

You arrive back in London a week before the table read, just in time to join the rest of the cast for a mini reunion at Matt's apartment.

A few drinks in, with numerous tales regaled amongst the large group about what everyone has been up to for the past half year, and you realise just how much you missed being with the cast.

They truly are the best bunch of people you could have ever dreamed of working with.

You eventually found yourselves branching off into little groups, with some preparing food in the kitchen, others smoking out in the balcony, and the rest scattered in the expanse of the apartment.

Matt's place is well-decorated for a bachelor pad, with personal knick-knacks at every corner. You note this to him, as you sit on the plush carpet in his living room. Your little half-circle consists of yourself, Matt, Phia, Liv, Bethany, and Tom, all in varying degrees of inebriation, but either of the lads arguably take the cake.

"You see that?" Matt leans close, pointing to the green shelf nestled in the corner. "On the second level right there, is a prop I stole from season one."

"No way," you squint in that direction, unaware that he gives you a good once-over, the admiration in his eyes plain to see.

The others are quick to point it out in typical fashion.

"Now, now, Smithy," Tom quips. "Try not to burn holes in the girl with yer eyes there."

"She's my babe," Phia jokes, winking at you.

"Oh really?" Matt simply leans back on his palms, unaffected. "Not Ewan's?"

"Oop - " Liv's eyes widen like saucers. "Don't even go there, Smithy."

"Why ever not?" Matt shrugs.

"Guys," you shake your head, waving a hand in dismissal. "it's fine. It's... whatever."

"He's not here," Matt says. "We can talk about it."

"Gossip girl over here," Bethany smirks.

Matt was right in pointing out that Ewan is yet to arrive back from the States. Of course, Ewan had given you a call letting you know that he would be spending the night before the table read at your apartment.

But right now, in this moment, you didn't really feel like going through the sordid details of your affair.

"We can talk about it," you say, "but I'd rather not."

Matt laughs, "Okay. But are you or are you not together?"

"Matt," Tom groans, pinching the bridge of his nose in amusement at his mate's boldness.

"Hey, it's a simple question!"

"It is, isn't it?" you shrug, allowing him that, because he is speaking true. It is supposed to be simple. "We're not actually together... but some of you already know - " you shoot Tom and Phia pointed glances " - that we had a thing once, and we may have a thing still, only lesser and more casual." You look around the group, hoping they got the gist, and that no follow-up statements are necessary.

"Hey, I get it," Bethany replies. "It sounds complicated, but it's your business, sweetheart."

You hum gratefully. The others jump on another topic, but Matt slinks closer to you, with the on-brand glint in his eyes. He says, lowly, "That's good, then."

Your mouth parts in pleasant surprise, as you finally take notice of the way he looks at you. "Say that again, Smithy?"

"You heard me," he answers. Smooth. Matt has been known to be the resident casanova of the cast, with his undeniable charm on and off set. He can get along with absolutely anyone, and this includes the array of women who get pulled in by his charisma.

It's lost on you why he would now set his sights on you, but you can't deny that you enjoy the attention.

Fabien suddenly comes into view with that digital camera of his pointed towards your group. He snaps one of Tom whose raised bottle of beer half covers his smirking face. Then he turns to you and Matt, saying, "Give papa a smile, kids!"

Matt quickly slings an arm around you, making you lean against him. He coolly points to the camera, posing like he usually does. You smile widely, your brain in a pleasant daze from the alcohol, the banter, and the alluring scent of Matt's perfume.

"Send me a copy of that, Fabs," Matt comments after. Fabien will probably post the photo on his usual Instagram slideshow, but Matt happily stays off the socials.

"Gonna get it framed?" you joke, nudging him lightly with your shoulder.

"Oh, you bet," he winks at you, making you swallow nervously. Speaking to him now, in this way, you realise just how easily the Matt Smith is able to get with the ladies. Charm practically oozes off of him.

And Daemon was your original favourite, after all.

Fabien and Matt walk you and Phia back to your apartments in the wee hours of the morning. Though your neighbourhood was only 5 minutes away, the lads gallantly insisted that they wouldn't let you go without an escort.

Your group weaves its way through the empty streets of London, chatting and laughing away, the effects of the alcohol yet to wear off. At some point, Matt wraps an arm around you, and you let him keep it that way.

You have grown fond of him, having spent a lot of time with him during filming. And, well, you needed to keep your balance anyway.

Not to mention, he offers a pleasant distraction from having to yearn all the damn time for what you once had with Ewan.

Fabien and Phia walk ahead to her nearby apartment, so you're left with Matt in front of your building.

"We'll be spending a lot more time together this season, fortunately," he says.

"That's kind of a given," you laugh. "Alyna's never going to drop her oath to the Queen."

"And the King."

"Consort," you finish for him.

He laughs freely, shaking his head, before his expression turns a bit serious. He dips his face closer to yours, whispering, "And in real life? Is Alyna sticking with Aemond?"

That stumps you. Matt's blue eyes are indeed arresting, but one mention of Aemond is enough to bring you back into the Ewan Mitchell spiral.

But... you're not his.

You shrug in response, smiling softly, "I guess some things just aren't meant to be."

You become convinced that the universe must be testing you because your phone buzzes in that moment, revealing an incoming call from Ewan One-Eye.

Matt spots it easily, challenging you with, "So what then, beautiful? Are you going to answer the call?"

It buzzes once more, and another time, before you press decline.

Matt doesn't give you the time to regret your decision. He swoops down and plants a soft kiss at the corner of your lips. Nothing too much, but just enough to toe the line of simply being friendly.

"I - I better head inside - " you stammer, your face heating up.

"You better."

"I'll see you soon, Smithy."

He nods, "See you soon, my Alyna."

Ewan can hardly focus on the script in front of him. He struggles to get his lines out efficiently during the table read, and he hopes that no one else notices.

It would be a miracle if you actually take notice of him, with Matt stealing your attention as he sits to your right.

The cast and crew are positioned around the room, and you just happened to be directly across Ewan, right in his line of sight. He would revel in it, but not now, with Matt leaning in once in a while and whispering something in your ear that makes you softly giggle.

How unprofessional. Whatever he is telling you, it sure must be fucking fascinating.

He isn't entirely oblivious of your growing closeness with Matt. He saw the photos of the two of you walking the streets of London, snug against each other, but he chose not to think much of it. After all, how many times has Matt been pictured with an arm wrapped around a costar? That is just how he is. Open and friendly.

Ewan had not been inclined to think it meant something more in your case.

"Ewan," he hears Tom sharply whisper to his left. "It's your line."

The room is silent in anticipation, eager to get on with the script. You lock eyes with him and offer an encouraging smile, and he is just about to reciprocate, but then he notices Matt's arm resting on the back of your seat.

Like he has laid a claim on you.

Ewan ends up grumbling out his lines, lacking the vulnerability that Aemond is meant to be displaying in that scene.

His keeps his expression stoic, trying to do his best to accomplish the task at hand. A tiny consolation is that the script to season three seems to be marginally better than that for the previous season.

There is not a single scene of Aemond and Alyna thus far, but the script is littered with those of Daemon and Alyna. Which makes complete sense, since they're fighting for the same cause, and Daemon has been somewhat of a mentor to the young Alyna.

Ewan liked their dynamic, being a fan of both the characters, and their real-life counterparts. But the scene that is playing out before him may be enough to sway his bias to the contrary.

Daemon and Alyna. You and Matt.

Ewan scoffs to himself, forgetting where he is for a moment. Tom side-eyes his weird behaviour, thinking, the lad must have left his marbles back in America.

Ewan doesn't notice. His thoughts race a mile a minute - Do the writers not see the potential goldmine they've got with the Aemond and Alyna dynamic? Do they not know how crazy it would drive the fanbase?

Is Matt unaware that it was his name - Ewan's, and no one else's - that you were screaming last night?

Your sputtered little pants of his name rise from his memory, your breathing ragged by the time he finished making love to you the third round in the same night.

That... that was his.

You are -

"Mate," Tom clasps him on the shoulder, "drink some water, yeah? You look bloody flushed."

Ewan hums gratefully, nodding once, shaking the image of you from his mind.

After all, he wears his Adidas joggers today, and the thin material would not be able to conceal it if he ended up having a raging hard-on, in front of everyone during the damn table read.

When another scene of Daemon and Alyna comes on, with you and Matt eagerly reciting your lines to each other, the boyish lust that Ewan entertained essentially dies.

He purses his lips, a ghost of a smile, ever the good and supportive costar.

He raises his head to distract himself by looking around the table, eventually locking eyes with Phia, who had already been looking at him strangely.

You okay? she mouths.

His head snaps toward the sound of your laughter before he could respond.

"Shoot, sorry," you smile, apparently having read the wrong line. Everyone at the table waves it off, a cacophony of 'it's alright' and 'you got this' heard around the room.

When you finish the rather long, drawn-out speech Alyna makes, there is an intermission before the next scene.

People begin turning to each other to make comments, some stand to stretch their legs. Then Ewan hears it - "How'd I do, Smithy?" followed by "Not too shabby, my Alyna."

His Alyna?

Ewan flips the bloody table over in his mind.

Ewan calls you the following night, under the pretense of the arrangement.

In truth, he'd take anything. He could sit on your couch and watch paint dry, if it meant being around you.

"Not tonight, Ewan," you say, and his heart sinks.

"Why not?" he asks, uncaring about how downright needy he sounds.

"Uhhhm, I have a friend over," you reveal.

"Phia? I'm sure she'll understand."

"Oh, come on, Ewan. It's not Phia, and even if it was, I wouldn't just send her away."

"Who then?" he insists, but some part of him already knows the answer.

"Fabien," you say, "and Matt. But Fabien already left to go see Bella, so it's just - "

"You and Matt, huh," he spits bitterly. For an actor, he sure is unable to mask his emotions.

"What are you insinuating? We're friends. You're his friend too, Ewan."

"Hmm," his grip on his phone tightens, "you seem a lot closer than friends to me."

"You're being ridiculous," you scoff. "I would ask you to still come over if you want to hang out with us but not if you're being this unpleasant."

"Forget it," he practically snaps, immediately regretting his tone, "let me know when you're less occupied."

"Ewan - "

"It's okay, darling," he cuts you off, wanting to be done with the conversation already. "I'll come see you before the cast shoot." He refers to the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot the entire cast is slated to do in the coming week, the first offering of season three promo.

"Okay," you exhale, then say, "Sansa misses you."

That earns a weak smile out of him. If only her owner could say that she misses him too. "Does she?"

"Mhmm," you respond, and he hears the smile in your voice, "so... so you better come over soon or she might start clawing at the door."

Matt makes his presence known, his voice becoming audible as he walks into the room where you are, asking, "You alright, love?"

"Ewan, I gotta go," you say in a rush.

"Okay," he sighs in defeat. He drops his phone on the couch, then paces around his apartment, needing to get the picture of you and Matt canoodling out of his mind.

He audibly groans. Why must he torture himself so? If you say that you and Matt are just friends, then that must be the case.

My Alyna, Matt had called you.

In a sudden flash of madness or genius, Ewan picks up his phone and redownloads a certain wretched app.

It takes less than a minute, and soon he finds himself back in the mostly uncharted waters of Instagram. Careful not to accidentally like any post as he had before, he makes his way to the section that lets him create a new post.

Scrolling through his photo gallery, it doesn't take long before he finds one to his liking.

No editing is needed. He knows that the image and its subjects need no addition.

In his eyes, you are perfect as you are.

That night marks Ewan's second ever official post on his Instagram, yet again sending the entire fandom in a wild tailspin.

It's a picture of you sitting on top of your bed, hair slightly dishevelled, and with an old pyjama shirt on. Sansa is cradled on your bare thighs, and a smile graces your face as you pet her dotingly. The angle is from the side, where Ewan lay on his designated part of your bed, surreptitiously taking the picture.

The morning light cast a soft glow on your face, and the entire scene had made Ewan wish he never had to leave.

Under the post, reads the caption -

My Alyna.

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Some notes in the margins...

In part 8 - the EW photoshoot, more season three prep, and big news regarding Ewan's upcoming film!

I'm taking all your amazing ideas into account, and you'll continue to see smatterings of them in this story.

As always, I can't wait to talk with yous in the comments! Which couple is your endgame? <3

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell imagine #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #chemical override #aemond targaryen x reader

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lxclerc · 1 year ago

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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐢 ─ 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary... in which karma finally bites you in the ass faceclaim... christina nadin pairing... charles leclerc x reader warning... none so far. petty charles and petty reader

note... i need everyone to pretend like all the text messages are in french. also no charles yet but lots of charles in the next part.

series masterlist main masterlist

part one → current part (part two) → part three

charles leclerc has never been on your podcast. it isn’t for the lack of trying per se but rather out of your own sheer stubbornness and need to protect your pride. chasing red, the motorsport podcast you’d built from the ground up, consists of you and your best friend emma. months ago, emma had emailed charles inviting him as a guest with emma alone as the host. it’s already unusual in itself considering you’re in every episode, but charles had replied to the email with a sort of snarkiness you aren’t used to but definitely not surprised to hear.

dear emma,

if y/n wants me as a guest then she can contact me herself. thank you. sincerely, charles

it had been short and to the point and you’d rolled your eyes when you read it. if charles wanted to be petty then you’re certainly not about to appear on his doorstep begging him to come on your show. charles seems to forget that he’s gotten his pettiness from you.

still, after that particularly irritating email, emma had been badgering you to explain what had happened. charles leclerc is the nice guy after all. who else would let ferrari fuck them over as much and still scream forza ferrari at the top of his lungs? according to emma, it’s simply impossible for charles to respond in such a way without some hidden history between the two of you.

and she wouldn’t be wrong but you’d been able to keep that under wraps pretty well. you’ve kept your past right where it belongs – in the past and in your opinion, there’s simply no need to dig up old bones. of course, up until now as you watched with furrowed brows as your name trended on twitter. it seems no matter how deep you bury old bones, it comes back and haunts you – or in your case, bites you in the ass.

“you dated him!” you winced at emma’s sharp tone. you already feel a headache coming in – you hadn’t expected to be shoved down memory lane at a random tuesday if you’re being completely honest and you’re definitely not in the right state of mind to be dealing with it.

“keep your voice down,” you say, putting your phone down and allowing yourself a sip of your coffee as you try to ignore emma’s incredulous looks.

“you dated him?” she says again, in a sarcastic whisper this time that made you roll your eyes. you hated her sometimes. you love her of course, but you really hate her sometimes.

and you hate whichever idiot got ahold of those photos. everyone seems to have so much to say but they can’t seem to comprehend that the charles and y/n in those photos aren’t the same charles and y/n now. you’re both grown now, no longer little kids fueled only with dreams and ambitions. now you’re fueled entirely by coffee and the will to not stalk his social media.

you’re over charles leclerc. you’re so over him that you spend all your time applauding yourself just how over him you are. of course, you’ve seen charles around after the break up. you both live in monaco after all. it’s impossible not to accidentally pass by each other walking to the grocery store or be at the same restaurant or the same party. you’ve seen him around the paddock multiple times but neither of you say anything. sometimes your eyes meet and the familiarity in each other is difficult to ignore but mostly, you just walk past each other as though you’re strangers, as if you hadn’t spent your childhood memorizing the patterns in his eyes.

you groaned at where your mind went. this is the last thing you want to be thinking – or talking – about at eight in the morning. you blame twitter and emma entirely for your predicament. it doesn’t help that you share an apartment with her too.

“no comment,” you say finally at her expectant face.

her little evil grin terrifies you as he picks up a stack of papers from the coffee table, placing it in front of you. “i’d suggest clearing the air between the two of you before thursday because you’re spending vegas with ferrari.”

you almost spit your coffee as you grabbed the paper and double checked. unfortunately, there it is in plain sight, your sponsor team right next to ferrari. the document contains your schedule for vegas as an F1 presenter. you’ve been lucky enough not to be assigned to ferrari since you’ve been assigned the job three months ago. but alas, all your bad karma seems to have finally caught up with you today as you read through your itinerary, the first words being an ice breaker game with carlos sainz and charles leclerc proceeding with a hot lap with one of the drivers on friday.

oh jesus christ, you’re screwed.

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc and others

yourusername vegas ready and sporting red for the weekend!

view all comments...

emmauser very excited for the weekend

⤷ yourusername 🖕🏻

⤷ username emma what do you know

username god have answered all my prayers and forced y/n and charles to finally interact

username watching the childhood lovers to strangers, forced proximity trope in real time

⤷ username i am so invested actually

username her and charles are my roman empire

⤷ username they have consumed every nook and cranny of my feeble brain im afraid

username now what in the booktok is going on

taglist: @nhlfs @livinglifethroughfanfic @sage-butterflyy @chimchimjiminie16 @thatgirlmj @hiraethrhapsody @roseseraj @celestialams @1655clean @minkyungseokie @ssararuffoni @f1verse @honethatty12 @formulas-bitch @nmw-am @lorarri @erikasurfer @thievin-stealing @glow-ish @raevyng @scenesofobx @coffeehurricanes

#formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 one shot #charles leclerc fluff #formula 1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 one shot #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc smau #smau #social media #formula 1 smau

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sarahreesbrennan · 25 days ago

Note

Thank you for writing Long Live Evil.

I'm no cancer survivor, so I haven't been through the horror that that must've been, congratulations to enduring and surviving, and my sincere condolences that you had to go through it.

But I am chronically ill (cystic fibrosis, genetic defect) and have so far lived for 5 years longer than my prognosis allowed. My health's been good and stabile for a long time now, but I remember times where I couldn't walk alone, had a 18/6 nasal cannula and a 24-hour IV drip instead of school or a future.

Now I'm working at university, an archaeologist, chipping away at writing stories for years and years, and incredibly glad and privileged to see the world. All this to say that seeing how hurt Rae was in the beginning (and again throughout the story, while also never truly forgetting her true roots and motives) and how she grew around it like a gnarled tree, was like catharsis for me. Having miraculously given a second chance, no matter how hard the fight to keep it will be; I haven't ever read any story talking about this in a way that made me feel seen and understood like this. Thank you also lots and lots for taking the time to mention Rae's appreciation for Rahela's curves — it's been the same for me, since I've managed to get out of the underweight-trap. It means a lot to me, and I guess to many others in similar situations, including you of course. Thank you for sharing this with us, it must've been hard to touch on a deeply personal experience like this in writing that's simultaneously removed from oneself through fiction (at least that's what I'm imagining).

Thank you, and I wish you nothing but the best, health, and lots of good days to come. Deeply curious to see how Rae's story will continue!

Thank you so much for this.

I am so glad you are alive. Thank you for that, too - for living on even when you couldn’t see a way forward and everything was helpless despair.

I haven’t been through what you’ve been through, either, but it’s a privilege to have shared adjoining experiences trapped in darkness, and to share gladness and the wide world with you now. I’m so sorry it happened, and so happy you have archaeology and stories, and the world has you.

I will be totally honest and say it has been hard sharing Long Live Evil with the world, and I’m so grateful to you for knowing that, and for sending this message because you knew. This book is highly personal to me, but it’s also meant to be a wild celebration of messiness, escapism, and finding humour in art and darkness. And that means to some it’s just a joke, and in the words of Joanna Russ, ‘she’s not really an artist and it’s not really art.’ And so it gets dismissed, and it does hurt to see my most important story dismissed sometimes.

I was with other writers in a public space at one point and they were talking about how their books were about serious issues while ‘Sarah’s book is just for fun, and that’s fine too!’ (I had to take a minute before I could lean into my microphone and say ‘My book is about cancer’ in a cheery tone.) I’ve seen readers saying ‘this book’s just fluff, just silly, I’m ashamed of myself for reading it, there’s nothing to it’ about the book I wrote about almost dying.

My Rae, while of course she has bits of me in her (every character I’ve ever written does), and evil queens I’ve loved, and characters with wild hubris going on in the Greek plays I mention often in the book, and readers I’ve seen and I’ve been who are blithely confident they know what’s going on without doing more than surface reading and while forgetting key details… she’s also bits of women and girls I’ve mentored, been mentored by, befriended. And some of them are dead. So seeing the bits that were them particularly scorned or judged, seeing her pain dismissed or the discussion of her body sneered at…

That has been hard.

But.

In the end I believe I am really an artist and this book is really art, and art is there for the wide world to judge - to be mocked and dismissed, yes, as a price that comes with the opportunity to also be truly seen and appreciated, to get to influence real people’s real lives. Art is the gold that comes from the crucible in which we put all our pain and all our love and all our joys. I believe it deepens and transforms.

I wrote this book about how deeply unsympathetic people actually are to sufferers of illness, chronic or otherwise, and especially to women expressing pain. How the world villainises imperfect victims—which means all victims. How the world villainises bodies, and robs us of our joy in them—even when there’s horror in a body, too. I did know that by putting this book out into this world, that attitude would be reflected back by the world onto the book. And that attitude has hurt me in the past, and hurts me when I see it now.

I still think it’s worth calling out that attitude, even if it means getting more of that attitude reflected back onto me - because it means readers like you see it, and know others have been through this, and it was never okay, and you were never alone. While I know there will also be readers with chronic illnesses and/or cancer whose experience doesn’t overlap with mine at all, that only means there need to be more stories. So everyone who needs it gets the map into fantasy lands.

And I do hope some able-bodied readers read it, and think twice about adopting the world’s attitude to the people in their lives who are already going through enough. Some readers have told me the book helped them sympathise with and understand the cancer sufferers in their family and friend circles, and that’s meant a great deal. What do we write for, if not to learn to love each other better?

Long Live Evil has also given me my life back, as truly as chemo did, in a way that makes the pain worthwhile - I think I would have kept telling stories in some form, but Long Live Evil was my last throw, for as far ahead as I could see. Now since the book’s done well so far I’m hoping I can write more books, and my life can be the storytelling shape I always wanted it to be.

I read your message and I regretted nothing. I remember the pain and the way so many of us laughed or tried to laugh our way through it, and I know this was my way. Jokes, like stories, are the golden thread we follow through the dark labyrinth of our own agony and incomprehension.

It really has been hard, and it’ll stay hard. But like living, it’s worth it.

Please know two things.

I am so happy I wrote this book. Ultimately more than any other feeling I had so, so much fun writing it, and I’m having even more fun seeing the book be read by the people it was meant for.

2. This book was written for you.

#long live evil #chronic illness #cancer #epic fantasy #isekai #books and reading #criticism #portal fantasy #rae parilla #body horror positivity

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foreverisntenough · 27 days ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 4 - Saturday Night | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.8k

"Layla..." you called her that same morning after you darted away from the guest room, heart racing and mind swirling with a mix of excitement and anxiety. Your body was littered with remnants of Trent as scurried up to your bedroom.

"What? You're making me nervous!" she replied, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

"I fucked him last night, Layla," you admitted, barely able to contain the shame and guilt that washed over you.

"Ermmmm, are you talking about...?" Layla trailed off, clearly aware of your long-time crush on Trent but shocked that you might have actually gone through with it.

"Yes," you confirmed, cringing at the admission.

"Oh my fucking god!" she screamed, and you had to pull the phone away from your ear, stifling a giggle.

"I know. But I'm such an idiot," you sighed, feeling a mix of exhilaration and dread.

"Were you drunk?" she asked, sounding almost hopeful.

"No, we were totally sober," you replied, feeling a little prouder that it hadn't been a drunken mistake.

"I let him fuck me. And then I scampered up to my room like a little girl this morning. What do I do?" you confessed, panic rising in your chest. “Also… ‘let’ is probably not the word to describe what happened. I begged him… he had me begging, lays.” You whined recalling how Trent had you acting in that bedroom.

“Lol so the dick was as good as you imagined.” Layala laughed. "Did you talk or was it like a quickie?" Layla asked, jumping around with questions, her voice lowering as if she were afraid someone might overhear.

"Erm... it definitely wasn't quick. It was roundsss, Layla, but we were trying to be quiet. I mean, It was literally in the house.. Jack was upstairs," you explained, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck.

"God, that’s fucked up. But girlie, maybe this is the shift! We’ve been waiting for this man to move on you," she encouraged, though you could hear her excitement laced with a tease about how long this had been building for bubbling through the line.

"I don't know, my brother would murder me. What if... maybe it was a one-off thing for him," you said, uncertainty flooding your voice. “Maybe he just wanted to do it once and then call it. Like get it out of his system.” You reflected back wondering what this meant for Trent versus what it meant for you. Maybe different things. For you, this had been years of longing coming to a head, finally he gave you a chance and took you to bed. You worried that for Trent maybe he was simply just horny that night and once he knew you’d kiss him, he finally took you up on a bigger offer.

"Well, like how was it?" Layla pressed, her curiosity growing slicing through the onslaught of panic in your own head that she couldn’t hear.

"Lay.." you said, using her nickname as a cautionary warning.

"Like how good though?" she insisted, practically bouncing with anticipation and a dirty smirk.

"Layla... I was literally in heaven," you admitted, unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. "I’ve never felt like that in my life. His hands on me– within the first minute, I was moaning like an embarrassing mess. He had me on the verge of blacking out. The way he felt... oh my days... he made me squirt, I was just for him in the best way possible," you confessed, feeling a thrill at your own words.

"Oh my god!" Layla squealed, her excitement palpable even through the phone. You’d never reported that happening with other men so Layla’s shock was fairly merited.

"Shhh!" you hissed, glancing nervously toward the door, half-expecting Jack to burst in and demand to know what was going on. You could almost hear his protective big-brother instincts kicking in. Layla was silent for a moment.

"You need to figure out what's next. If it was that good for you… Y/N, he must’ve loved seeing you like that. If there are two things that boy loves, it’s winning and it’s you; having you begging for him… he must’ve been in heaven too. I’m sure of it. Don’t overthink this, maybe it's worth the risk. Plus, if the boy knows what he’s doing…." She sang cheekily. You pondered her words, the reality of the situation settling in. What if this was just the beginning? The beginning of a very dangerous relationship but also potentially the beginning of more very good sex. “Maybe you should see it through. Talk to him or have sex with him, whatever you’re feeling.” She laughed. You giggled, falling forward and hiding your face.

“I’m so fucked…” You whined.

“Literally.” Layla teased, as you noticed yet another visible love bite on your skin.

A few days passed and you were laid sprawled out on your bed, phone in hand, staring at Trent’s pictures on google. It felt so silly, googling him like he was some distant crush you’d never met, but here you were, scrolling through articles and match reports. You wanted to know every detail—how his last game went, what people were saying, the headlines, the photos, the videos. Seeing him on the field in action, looking focused and sharp… and sexy stirred something deep inside you. And then, almost on autopilot, you dialed his number. The ringing made your stomach flip.

“Hey, pretty girl” When he answered, his voice was warm but fairly surprised. You froze, suddenly unsure of what you’d meant to say. Why did you just call your brother’s best friend? But his soft laugh on the other end nudged you, and then he spoke again, this time with a hint of something more in his voice. “I’m glad you called. Been thinking about you.” Oh yeah, because he fucked you the other night that’s why you called him. This was a disaster but his words hit you right in the chest, and you let out a quiet, shaky breath, smiling despite yourself. The playfulness between you two was easy and effortless, like slipping into an old habit. The conversation flowed naturally, flirty in a way you couldn’t resist. When he asked what you were up to you told him you were already in bed, feeling the silence hang heavy between you. He chuckled softly. The moment hung between you, that delicious tension settling in as you lay there, holding your phone to your ear. Hearing Trent’s voice through the speaker, warm and inviting, made your heart beat faster. You took a breath, steadying yourself.

“In bed, yeah?” he murmured, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. The way he said it was casual enough, but there was an edge—a hint of suggestion that wasn’t lost on you.

“Mm-hmm,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the little catch in your breath betrayed you. This wasn’t like your usual banter, and you could both feel it.

“Well… that’s a shame,” he said, a hint of a chuckle in his tone. “Because I’m not there.” He teased.

“Not here yet,” you corrected softly, biting your lip. The words slipped out before you could think, surprising even yourself. You really wished he was in your bed right now. A guest bedroom didn’t have the same intimacy your own bedrooms would’ve. You hoped you’d get to have in him in your bed again one day.

“Yet?” he echoed, his voice dropping a bit. The way he said it sent a thrill through you. He sounded… interested. Was he interested?

“You sound a little… distracted, T.” You laughed softly, trying to keep things light.

“Distracted? I mean, that’s a bold assumption for someone who just called me in bed.” He smiled and although you couldn’t see it, you could hear it.

“Touché,” you admitted. He let out a low laugh, and then his voice softened, almost as if he were drawing closer to you through the line.

“I’ve been thinking about you, you know… Not just tonight, either.” A little breath caught in your throat, and you felt heat bloom in your cheeks. You’d been thinking about him too—more than you wanted to admit. And yet here he was, saying it so easily, without hesitation. You felt that familiar ease between you two, but now it had a sharper edge to it, something thrilling and dangerous. “Wish I wasn’t stuck in Milan right now… but since you’re in bed and… since you’re all cozy,” he continued, “maybe you could let me see what I’m missing in that bed?” You hesitated, heart pounding. It was so simple, and yet the thought of it felt electric.

“You mean right now?” You asked almost in shock. There were moments lately that felt like a rubber band to the back of your neck. It almost confused you that Trent was talking to you like this now. Your brother’s best friend essentially was asking for photos. Your head was spinning at his composure.

“Yeah, baby” he said, his voice almost a murmur. And it was back… suddenly you were ‘baby’ again. “Just a little something to tide me over. Unless you’re too shy? But I didn’t think you got shy when you’re in bed,” he teased, knowing exactly how to make your pulse race.

“I’m not shy.” You let out a quiet laugh, your confidence swelling

“Good.” His voice dropped, that familiar warmth and playfulness making your skin tingle. “Be a good girl and send me a photo.” His voice was soft, coaxing, and it sent a thrill through you. The anticipation made your fingers tingle as you bit your lip, considering it. It felt thrillingly new, even after all these years of knowing him—this version of him, of you, of you two together. You bit your lip, and after a quick glance around your room, you sat up, ripping off your hoodie, adjusting your hair and holding your phone up for a quick snap. You knew it had to be just the right mix of casual and tempting. You could see your nipples through the sheer tank top but the soft smile made it cute, innocent. You weren’t about to send him a nude out the gate but just something to get his mind thinking about being there with you. When you hit send, there was a pause on the other end, and then Trent let out a quiet groan. “Nah, you’re killing me, you know that?” He groaned. You laughed, feeling emboldened by his reaction.

“Think you’d want to see me when you’re back? Come be cozy in bed?” You giggled teasingly.

“Honestly?” he replied and your heart skipped a beat in the worst way, expecting the worst. A rush of worry maybe he was about to change his mind, “I’m not sure I can hold out much longer” He exhaled, sounding half-playful, half-serious, and you could feel his anticipation echoing back at you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You smirked realizing he had been trying to play it cool since you two had sex. You weren’t sure what to think of that, a part of you wondered if he was embarrassed it happened but then the sexual tension of the current moment overruled any cautionary thought you were having. The line went silent for a moment. “There better be space for me in that bed once I’m back. yeah?” He added. The way he said it made your cheeks flush, a promise tucked into his words.

“There always has been, T,” you whispered, surprising even yourself with the quiet assurance in your voice. And with that, you both hung up, your heart racing as you lay back, feeling the anticipation buzz through you.

Layla was away for work down in London when you and Trent hooked up so it was a couple days' time until she got to come over and properly debrief. Once she was back in town Layla was immediately at your house, practically bursting with excitement as soon as she stepped through the door. You barely had time to breathe before you were pulling her into your room to spill all the details.

“Lays… look at me, look at this! He did this. Trent did this!” you said, lifting your little flouncy shorts just enough to reveal the cheeky bruise left on the inside of your thigh. You emphasized his name just to really hammer home that Trent Alexander-Arnold, long time crush, Jack’s best friend, sexy footballer left that on you. You were both giggling like teenagers as you collapsed onto your bed, recounting the details of that night.

“Oh my god!” Layla squealed, eyes wide as she burst into laughter. “That’s very secondary school of you getting love bites.” She teased. You couldn’t help but giggle, the thrill of the moment still fresh in your mind, not caring for her teasing joke. “I’m kidding, girlie, that’s actually kind of nuts considering...” She tilted her head as if you were supposed to know what she was implying.

“Considering….” You inquired.

“Y/N, this is the riskiest hook up you both possibly could be involved in, and while I don’t think Jack often sees that much of you… for T to be so in wrapped in the moment of finally getting you into bed, so into fucking you, claiming you, that he’s leaving marks… He’s so into this! He’s down because he’s risking a lot here.” She explained. You fought the sly smile pulling on your lips. The days that followed the night with Trent were a whirlwind of excitement and nervous energy but hearing her explain it like that felt like new insight. After you first had called her, Layla had insisted on analyzing every text message Trent sent you since that night. You were practically glued to your phone, reading and rereading his messages as you waited for more. But now, she was finally here with you so you could share your love bites. You and Layla had planned to drive to Selfridges this afternoon for some shopping for the new season. Whilst on the way there you received a text that made your heart race the second it pinged.

“He texted meee!” you squealed, showing the screen to Layla, who couldn’t look right away because she was driving but she believed you. The sheer volume of your exclamation made her wince, only one person was eliciting that sort of response from you lately.

“Oh my god, Y/N, get a grip!” She softly laughed. “You’ve had his number for years!” she teased, rolling her eyes mocking you lightheartedly of course but unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips. She was excited, you were excited. Trent’s text was casual at first, but as you read on, you noticed the subtle undertones. He asked if you and Layla just might happen to want to swing by a club in Manchester this Saturday night, specifically around midnight, and specifically to come join a certain table with him and his friends It was meant to sound nonchalant, but the specifics made it clear he wanted to see you.

The casual tone didn’t fool either of you as you read the full message allowed to her. The exact time and place felt a little too intentional, making it clear that he wanted to see you. Layla smirked, nudging you. You blushed, excitement and nerves churning in your stomach.

“Girl, he’s planned this. With teammates and not his boys i.e not Jack…” Layla remarked, leaning in closer to reread the message for herself at a stoplight. “You know what this means, right?” She smiled.

“What?” you asked, your heart pounding. Naively, you were struggling with this new relationship with Trent. His ‘older brother’s best friend’ persona was so seared into your brain, the ideas that normally were flowing for you with previous men and what they wanted from you… weren’t coming as easily for some reason. You were overthinking your instincts. It’s not that you didn’t have the desire. You just were so afraid of him not liking you that way, you almost didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Trent. You were scared.

“It means he’s not just interested; he’s invested. He’s making plans to see you. You have to go!” Layla cooed. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of anxiety. You couldn’t shake the thought of what if it was all just fun and games for him? But the way he texted, the way he seemed to genuinely want to see you in a setting like that, made your heart flutter.

“Do you really think I should? He also said you too Lays, so you have to go with me,” you told her, biting your lip nervously.

“Hell yes! We and by we, I mean you, are not going to let an opportunity like this pass you by. By the way… It’s obvious, T thought the first time was good too,” Layla said cheekily, her enthusiasm infectious. “We need to get you ready. Find an outfit that’ll make him forget his own name!” You laughed, feeling a little giddy at the idea.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I need to at least give it a go. But I’m still freaking out! Fuck!” You whined, burying your head in your hands almost embarrassed by your nerves. “I have to be careful though… like I can’t do too much. I’m scared he’ll be like… ‘what are you doing?’ or ‘who are you trying to be?’ You know?” You explained once the idea of fashion and outfits came into your mind.

“I get that… we need to be cool, calm, collected… and fucking sexy. Ugh a yellow shopping bag couldn’t come at a better time!” Layla said, pulling into the car park for the department store dreaming of filling the boot with those shopping bags. The thought of seeing Trent again filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves, but you couldn’t help but feel hopeful. You couldn’t help but feel a bit eager for another night with Trent, no matter the consequences at stake. You and Layla spent the entire afternoon bouncing from one brand’s section to another in Selfridges, rifling through racks, holding up options and critiquing each one. Layla was relentless, pushing you to try looks you had a hard time wrapping your head around that somethings so sexy could be for Trent. After some trial and error, you finally found the outfit. You took a deep breath and tucked off into the changing room, slipping lace fabric against your skin, watching how it transformed you. When you stepped out, Layla’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my fucking god, he’s gonna pass out.” Layla laughed almost in disbelief as you stepped out of the changing room in a sheer black lace dress. It was strapless and pushed your boobs up, hugging you in all the right places. It was dangerously sexy. The dress was just the right side of bold. I mean, it was obvious but in a cool way. You checked yourself out in the mirror, feeling that same rush of excitement and hint of nerves you’d felt since you got the text. “This is perfect. It’s so fucking good — ugh I can’t wait to see his face. Nonchalant, my ass, he won’t be able to keep his hands off,” Layla grinned, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Do you really think this is enough?” you asked, adjusting the dress one more time, tilting back and forth to catch the way it moved on you. Layla smirked deviously making it very clear she had more ideas.

“Yes, but we’re not done… We’re getting you lingerie. If you want him to never think of you as Jack’s sister again, we have to make sure this look, this version of you is seared into his brain Saturday.” She grabbed your hand and dragged you to find La Perla navigating through the store with a determination that made you laugh despite your nerves. The idea of buying this all for your brother’s best friend was fucking insane but you didn’t want him to be just your brother’s best friend anymore. The delicate lace and silky pieces of lingerie were making you blush, remembering how gently he pulled your own panties off you that first night. And so with Layla’s guidance, you started sifting through options, feeling bolder with each choice. At first, you stuck to safe-ish options, something that could pass as an everyday piece—but Layla wasn’t having it. She held up a set that was anything but modest: something lacey that felt both elegant and dangerously seductive. You stared at it, feeling a jolt of confidence and a hint of nervousness.

“Actually just this,” Layla said, putting back the set and grabbing just a scrap of fabric, holding out to you with a smirk. “We do this, no bra, and the dress, that’ll erase any idea that you’re a little sister. You’ll walk in, and that’s the only thing he’ll remember.” You felt electric, standing there, imagining the look on Trent’s face when he saw you in the skimpy piece of fabric you were about to ludicrously pay £200 for. By the time you left Selfridges, you had everything you needed: the perfect dress, heels that made you feel powerful, and a pair of panties that would stay with him long after the night was over. Layla squeezed your arm. “By the way, Y/N… You’re not Jack’s sister, you’re you. That’s why he’s interested. And Trent is not going to forget it.”

That Saturday night was a whirlwind of desire and temptation. Trent’s private table was an oasis of luxury, tucked in the club’s exclusive area surrounded by footballers and bottles of liquor. The lights were dim, casting a seductive glow over the scene, and the air was thick with anticipation. When you walked into the club you were escorted to the area and Trent's usual composure shattered. He'd planned to keep it cool, but the sight of you in the dress threw his carefully crafted nonchalance out the window. His eyes traveled over you, taking in every curve with a hunger that made him feel both exhilarated and guilty. You were Jack's sister-his best mate's sister-but right now that was being erased. You were here… he wasn’t and now all he could think about was getting you close to him. Close to him so he could get his hands on you and those clothes off you. To keep things casual, he greeted Layla first, introducing her to his teammates so it wasn’t too obvious. But when he finally turned to you, it felt like the room silenced, as if nothing else mattered in that moment. Without a word, his arms wrapped around you, and his hands fell low, cupping the curve of your ass with a daring boldness that sent a surge of adrenaline through both of you. You nestled into him, breathing him in. The scent of him, a woody velvet encircled you wrapping you in the comfort of him. You didn't kiss though, you couldn’t, not out in public, but his touch told you everything. He wanted to. You wanted.

"You look so fucking sexy." He murmured, leaning in close, his breath warm against your ear. You could feel his perfect pout move against the shell of your ear. The words came out low, rough, igniting a blush that you couldn't hide. You draped your arms over his shoulders, letting your fingers trail down his neck as you pulled him closer, eyes gleaming.

"It can be all for you," you taunted, leaving the promise hanging in the air before slipping away to greet Layla and the others. As you moved away, Trent exhaled, watching you move to greet some of his mates with an exasperated smile. It was going to be a long night, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could play it cool.

You and Layla seamlessly joined Trent and his teammates. It was easy. The energy of the night igniting a fire between you and him though. His eyes stayed locked on you, a mix of longing and mischievous intent as you danced with Layla. He wasn’t one to really dance so for the time being he continued on his quest to play it cool, leaned back on a couch watching you move. Even with distance between you two, the electric connection tether you to him. Your pulse quickening with every glance. In the dim light of the nightclub, the bass thrummed like a heartbeat in the air, creating a pulsing rhythm that matched the intoxicating sway of the crowd. The atmosphere was thick with a heady mix of laughter, music. The club’s DJ mixed a seamless transition of songs rolling one into the next, a 2010 classic you knew Trent loved. You smirked at him and strutted over, reaching out to him. Your hand extended, unsure if he’d take it. But he did, he grabbed your hand as you pulled him to stand up. Against his usual reserved demeanor to avoid dancing, he couldn’t resist you. The club pulsed with the rhythm of Jeremih’s mid 2000’s ‘Put It Down on Me’ vibrating through the floor and mingling with the heat of the room. As the beat of the music wrapped around you, you positioned yourself directly on top of Trent, your back pressed against his chest. The heat from his body radiated through the thin fabric of your dress, every movement heightened by the press of his strong frame. The boundaries between flirtation and something more had long since blurred. The pulsing bass of the club surrounded you, and as Trent's hands settled on your waist, every nerve in you ignited. He pulled you in, letting his fingers slip down, dragging you flush against him as you dragged your own hands down his strong arms before placing your hands overtop of his, guiding them over your body as you moved. You could feel his breath near your ear. The look in his eyes was electric, and as his hands caressed you, a thrill of anticipation for what could happen bloomed between you two. You pulled back just enough, tilting your head back to give him a shy, knowing smile that hinted you weren't about to play it safe tonight, that you didn’t want to. As the night wore on, Trent kept you on him and the drinks kept flowing, the boundaries blurred to a point where it felt like they didn’t exist at all to you. Any attempt to keep things casual had faded as you stayed pressed against him, feeling the heat of his body as you moved together to the rhythm. Your hips swayed, and Trent's hands seemed to find their way to every curve, guiding you as if the whole club had melted away, leaving just the two of you in the moment. The music wrapped you both in its seductive embrace, and every glance he stole felt like a secret promise. You found yourself feeling utterly alive under the spell of his charm. The longer his hands were on you, the more you wanted him, the more deliberate the way you moved against him got, you could feel him against you.

"You're gonna get me in trouble," he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. His voice was low and teasing, but you felt the strain behind it, like he was barely holding back, on the verge of breaking. But he invited you tonight, he wanted this even if he was implying that you needed to be cautious. A smirk tugged at your lips as you glanced back at him, feeling bold. You reached up behind you, letting your arm drape back around his neck as you grinded against him, feeling his hands grip you tighter, the friction sending waves of pleasure through both of you.

"Good," you whispered back. Your tone was playful, a little challenging, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as they met yours. You let your free hand guide his up your body, tracing his touch from your hip slowly traveling up your side, over your ribs, the curve of your tits and finally resting on the curve of your throat. The placement of his hand was intoxicating, and Trent’s resolve wavered as he struggled to keep his composure. Trent’s breath quickened, his other hand’s fingers tightening around your hips as you guided his hand to stay on your neck as you arched into his touch more. He squeezed his eyes shut fast, fighting the surge of desire that threatened to overwhelm him. His fingers gently squeezed your neck, sending a shiver through you. Trent closed his eyes once more for another second, as if willing himself to stay in control, but you knew exactly what you were doing and he knew he wasn’t going to manage much longer, not like this. Every little touch, every brush of your skin, sent his mind spiraling back to the night you'd spent together. And so you continued, your hand guiding his, bringing it from your neck up to your lips. You took his hand in yours and slowly dragged one of his fingers over your lips, letting it linger there. Then, feeling daring, you kissed his finger before slipping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. You took the finger into your warm, wet mouth, your tongue circling it seductively. Trent's eyes snapped open, the tension clear in his expression. Trent’s breath hitched, his control slipping as the warmth and wetness of your mouth made his pulse race.

"Y/N..." he cautioned, his voice husky. He was trying to keep it together, trying to hold his composure, but you could tell he was barely hanging on and you wanted him to falter. The air around you was charged, electric with the intensity of the moment. The nightclub’s atmosphere seemed to amplify the tension, every beat of the music syncing with the quickened rhythm of your hearts. The intimacy of the gesture, the way you drew him into your world with such daring confidence, left Trent in a state of heated disarray. The private area, the pulsating music, and your body pressed against his created a searing contrast to the cool sophistication of the setting. He could barely think straight as you continued to tease him with your movements and your touch, each moment building towards a crescendo of irresistible need.

"Get me in trouble," you whispered a plea, your voice a soft taunt, challenging him to let go. You felt his breath catch, and for a split second, it seemed like he was going to give in, pull you closer and damn the consequences. His fingers dropped to tighten on your waist, his gaze intense, and you could feel his resolve crumbling with every second. The thrill of it sent a rush through you, knowing you'd pushed him to this point, both of you teetering on the edge of what came next.

Layla was watching with barely concealed amusement, a grin spreading across her face as she took in the scene, proud of her handiwork considering the dress seemed to be more than effective but then again, his fingers were in your mouth moments ago so it was a toss up what really was sending Trent over the age. But she wasn't the only one who saw you two– Trent's teammates had also noticed, exchanging looks that ranged from amused to confused. One of them leaned over to Layla, eyebrows raised.

"That's his mate's sister, right?" He asked earnestly. Layla chuckled, shaking her head.

"Oh is she ever," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "That is one, sexy, ticking time bomb," She laughed. The music pulsed around you, bodies moving under the lights as Trent leaned in close, his expression intense. He’d had enough.

“You’re leaving with me. Right now.” He murmured seriously, the command laced with an impatience you could feel from a mile away.

“What do you mean? Why? ” Feigning innocence, you tilted your head. He bit back a smirk, annoyed but undeniably amused by your act. So he decided to play along.

“I mean, you just look a little hot, baby… Think you have too many clothes on.” He told you, making up a farce. His gaze trailed over you, lingering with obvious intent. His arm wrapped around you letting his massive hand run over your collarbone over to your shoulder and then down your arm brushing over your skin, slick from the club’s heat.

“I’m in a mini dress, T baby, I think I’m okay.” You whispered with a shrug, biting back a little laugh. He moved in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as his fingers gripped your waist.

“I said, you have too many clothes on." He said more commandingly. A thrill ran through you, your pulse quickening. "Let me help you, yeah?” He cooed cheekily.

“Maybe you’re right. I think I need you.” You gave him a sly smile then glanced over to find Layla. After making sure she was all set for the night, she told you to go and you hugged her goodbye promising you’d check in to make sure one of the other boys got her home safely. She wasn’t exactly keen about leaving since she had hit it off with one of the other boys there. She shot you a knowing grin and a wink as you slipped away with Trent, his hand gripping yours with unmistakable possession as he led you through the crowd. You quickly mouthed a ‘love you’ to her, her smirk only widening as she watched you and Trent disappear. Trent tugged you closer to him, his hand dropping to your lower back to keep you close and protect as he guided you through the crowd and toward the exit. As he led you out to the private exit, his hand firmly grasping yours, you felt a giddiness wash over you. It felt surreal to leave somewhere like this with him. The alcohol and the adrenaline from the night's adventures had left you feeling fearless and carefree. You giggled as he dragged you along, your high heels clicking against the ground.

"Hey, slow down, needy boy" you slurred, attempting to match his long strides. "I can barely keep up with you.” You giggled. Trent needed to leave out the back for his car service to pick him up. He did it often but especially tonight, he couldn’t risk paparazzi. He looked at you, his expression torn between frustration and desire, his hand still warm in yours.

"I fuck… I couldn't... God, fuck baby… I hate that I can’t just…" he started, stumbling through thoughts you had a hard time connecting. His voice was rough as he struggled to find the words. But then his gaze met yours, and in a second, he was leaning in, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that made everything else disappear. The restraint he'd held onto all night finally snapped, and you felt his hands tighten around you, pulling you close in the back exit halls as if he couldn't get enough. “I need to get you home. Been dying to kiss you. I couldn’t take it anymore. Been driving me crazy all night." Trent chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“I want to go home, baby.” You playfully whined, your eyes sparkling with mischief. The cool night air hit you like a shock, but Trent's firm grip anchored you, his urgency undeniable. As soon as you were outside, he pulled you into him, glancing around once over as if checking to make sure no one followed towards the car.

“Gonna be a good girl f’me when we get home?” He asked you and you nodded slowly but desperately. The lights from the club cast a hazy glow around you, making everything feel surreal. You got into the black car equipped with security that had waited for you two. The drive back to his place felt like an eternity. You were dying to get there but terrified to go at the same time. His hands were subtly all over you during the car ride building up the tension even more than you thought possible. The heat radiating off your bodies, and the way his gaze lingered on your lips had you desperate for him. As you approached his house, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

With a swift movement, Trent unlocked his front door and pulled you inside, his eyes dark with desire. The moment the door closed behind you, he crashed his lips against yours, hungrily devouring your mouth. His kiss was aggressive, demanding, and it took your breath away. You responded eagerly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled back momentarily, his eyes scanning your face, searching for any hesitation.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N? I don't want to push you too far. But I’m having a hard time controlling myself here" He asked earnestly. A wave of desire washed over you, and you knew you wanted this as much as he did, maybe more.

"Stop asking," you whispered, your voice laced with need. "Just fuck me, T. I want you to fuck me again. Make me cum again." A devilish grin spread across his face, and he wasted no time in taking control. His hands roamed over your body, unzipping your dress and roughly pulling it down, exposing your bare skin. He traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, down to the swell of your hips, and then back up, cupping your tits.

"You're so fucking sexy," he growled, his lips finding your neck, nipping and suckling on your sensitive skin. "You promised you’d be a good girl f’me. Yeah?" He smoke against your skin. You nodded as you arched your back, offering yourself to him, your breath coming in shallow gasps.

"T, baby… don't hold back. I’m serious. I’ll do whatever you want. I want it rough. I want to forget everything but your touch." Trent’s eyes lit up. This was all still so new and he was more than excited to hear you talk to him like that. His hands moved with purpose, completely removing your dress freeing your heavy tits. He palmed them, squeezing and kneading, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples.

"Fuck, your tits are incredible," he groaned, his lips moving to capture a nipple, sucking it into his warm mouth. You moaned loudly, your head falling back as pleasure coursed through your body. His mouth felt incredible on your sensitive flesh, and you couldn't help but beg for more.

"Oh fuck, please. I need more." You cried out. He released your nipple with a pop, leaving it aching and tingling.

"You've always wanted me, haven't you, baby?" he teased, his voice laced with a hint of dominance. "Admit it, you've been craving my cock inside you since the other week." He growled. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and arousal. You weren’t sure you were ever going to get over how sexy it was to hear Trent talk like this to you, and it sent a thrill through your core.

"Yeah huh... I've always wanted you. You know I have,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I want you to use me,T." You weren't thinking it in real time but you almost didn’t recognize the words coming out of your mouth, you’d never been this down for a man before, so willing, so submissive.

“Fuck… Wear these just for me, baby?” He asked lust burning behind his dark mahogany eyes as he admired the La Perlas you’d worn exactly as he said... just for him. You hummed confirming. “Such a good girl for me.” Trent snickered, his hands moving down to the waistband of your thong roughly pulling them off you, exposing your glistening folds. You gasped. "I’ll buy you more baby, don’t worry. I know you… you like to be dirty for me. You’ve been craving my touch, my cock, huh?” Your skin was on fire under his touch, your pussy throbbing and dripping with need.

"Please, Trent," you pleaded, your voice hoarse. "Touch me, I'm so wet for you." He didn't need any more encouragement. His fingers delved between your legs, finding your swollen clit, and began to stroke and tease.

"Fuck, you're so fucking wet," he grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "I love how you get so turned on by me." Your body trembled as his fingers worked their magic, circling your clit, sliding into your slick heat.

"Yeah– I fuck.. Oh my god. For you baby. Oh God, yes," you whimpered a jumble of words, your hips thrusting against his hand. "Right there, please, don't stop." You moaned. Trent's touch was relentless, his fingers plunging deep inside you, curling and stroking your sweet spot.

"That's it, baby, cum for me. I want to feel your pussy clench around my fingers." Your orgasm built rapidly, your body coiling tighter with each stroke of his skilled fingers.

"I'm gonna cum, baby!" you cried out, your voice hoarse and raw. He increased the pace, his thumb rubbing your clit in firm circles.

"That's it, let it all out. Cum for me, pretty girl.” He cooed as your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as pleasure consumed you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. “Good girl.” He gently praised you kissing your neck. As your tremors subsided, Trent gently removed his fingers, leaving you feeling sensitive and sated. He picked you up and brought you up to the bedroom, his eyes locked on you, your chest heaving as you came down, kissing his neck "Get on the bed f’me, baby," he commanded, his voice thick with desire. "I want to taste every inch of you." And so you did as he asked, your body still buzzing from the intensity of your climax downstairs. You laid back on the soft sheets, your eyes never leaving his as he stood before you, his erection straining against his trousers. With deliberate movements, Trent undressed, revealing his toned, sculpted body. He pulled his shirt over his head and your jaw slacked as his muscles flexed. Your mouth went dry as you took in the sight of him, his cock thick and hard, straining towards you. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your thighs, his eyes smoldering with hunger. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growled, his hands caressing your inner thighs, spreading you open. "I'm gonna eat you out until you beg me to stop." You nodded. You were borderline delirious. The first time you had to be quiet, you almost had to be quick before but so far… this had been a complete 180 from that and it was proving to somehow be even better. His head lowered, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. He teased you, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, kissing over the faded remnant of his last visit to your core, making you squirm with anticipation. Finally, his tongue found your aching clit, flicking and swirling, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

"Oh God, Trent," you moaned, your hands threading to grip his hair, holding him close. "Your mouth feels so good. Don't stop, please." He chuckled against your skin, his smugness palpable but you didn’t care, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine, it felt too good.

"You taste so sweet, baby. I could do this all night." His tongue delved deeper, penetrating your wetness, licking and sucking, driving you wild. You were lost in a haze of pleasure, your body responding to his every touch. His fingers joined his tongue, thrusting into your tight hole, stretching and filling you.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, please, baby!" you cried out, your hips bucking against his face. Trent's mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony, driving you to the brink of another mind-blowing orgasm. Trent could feel his cock getting so hard from hearing and watching and making you cum. He was almost about to explode himself but he needed to experience it again. He was obsessed.

"Cum for me again, baby," he urged, his voice muffled against your flesh. "Let me feel you squeeze around my fingers. Be my good girl again." Your body obeyed, the sensations overwhelming you as you tumbled over the edge once more. Your cries filled the room as your pussy clenched and spasmed around his invading fingers. As your tremors subsided, Trent slowly withdrew his fingers, leaving you breathless and spent. He rose above you, his cock poised at your entrance, ready to claim what was his. "You're so fucking responsive, baby. I love how you cum for me." You reached up, running your hands over his chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath your touch.

"I need more of you, T. Please, I need you inside me. I want to make you cum now, baby." You told him as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock teasing your wetness.

"Tell me what you want, baby. I want to hear you beg." Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but your desire overrode any inhibitions.

"Please, T," you pleaded, your voice thick with need. "Fuck me, hard. I want to feel you deep inside me. I want to be a good girl for you.” Your words went straight to his cock. He smiled deviously and with one swift thrust, he slid inside, filling you completely, in your lustful haze forgetting condoms existed. Your eyes widened at the sensation of his thick shaft stretching you, taking you by surprise. "Oh my God," you gasped, your body adjusting to his size.

"You like that, huh?" he grunted, his voice strained. "You love my cock inside you, don't you, baby?" You nodded, unable to form words, your body already building towards another climax. Trent began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke hitting your sweet spot you’d never known before. “Take my cock. That’s it.” He growled, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you open for his possession. The pleasure was intense, each thrust sending sparks of ecstasy through your body. You matched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, your breasts bouncing with each impact.

"Oh fuck, baby. You’re so deep." you chanted, your nails digging into his back, marking him as your own. Trent's eyes rolled back as he pounded into you, his control slipping with each thrust. Your mind turning to mush. You couldn’t think of anything else but the roll of Trents hips. Each thrust clouding your mind more. His lips coming to kiss and suck on your exposed collarbone.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby. I want you to cum on my cock. I need to feel you– Fuck!” Trent grunted. You were wrong the first time, that wasn't the best sex either of you had ever had… this was. Your body was on fire, your pussy clenching and milking his shaft, desperate for his release.

"Cum inside me T," you begged, your voice hoarse. “I want you to fill me up, please." You whined. His thrusts starting to become sloppier. Hearing you say that made his mind go blank. He tried to ask you ‘what?’ Or ‘are you sure?’ But he couldn't process what you were saying. It turned him on too much to even think straight. “Please, I need you. I want to feel you cum.” You demanded wrapping your legs around his waist tighter, holding him to you.

“Baby…” Trent grunted, not sure what to do. He felt like he was glitching; he couldn't process both minds.

“I’m on birth control, please T… Do it, baby. Please.” You whined pathetically. It’s all you could think about. It’s all you wanted. You wanted to feel him. So you clenched around him and he moaned. He reached down between your body’s to rub your clit in sync with his rough pace.

“Yeah? Alright, I’ll give you what you want, baby. I’m gonna… fuck…” He babbled through words. You nodded as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.

“Oh fuck…” You whined as he hit your g spot again and again relentlessly. You gripped his biceps, nails leaving crescent marks on his tanned toned arms.

“Doing so good, baby. I got you. I’m gonna cum. Shit! Squeezing me so fucking tight.” He grunted still thrusting into you as his abs tensed. His eyes rolled back a little with deep breaths. He let out a guttural roar as he plunged deep, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. Wave after wave of his hot cum filled your depths, triggering another earth-shattering orgasm within you. Your body quivered as your pussy tightened around him. Your bodies convulsed together, locked in a blissful embrace as pleasure consumed you both. He slowed almost to a halt as his cock pulsed inside your warm pussy. He pumped you full of his cum, painting your insides. He caught your lips with a sweet kiss. As your tremors subsided, Trent collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He turned towards you though just in time to see your eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "You okay? Did so good f’me. You were incredible, baby.” He kissed your temple pulling you tight to him. He smiled, his eyes full of affection. You hummed but couldn’t get any words out just yet, completely spent. You snuggled closer, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. He captured your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. Trent kissed your forehead and rolled off the bed. “Stay right there f’me. One minute” He cooed softly.

“You’re perfect,” You giggled quietly as Trent returned with a warm towel gently wiping up your thighs and sensitive core. He was so soft as he worked his way around, cleaning you up, leaving kisses on your warm skin after it was wiped clean. He laid down next to you and you just stared at him appreciatively.

“Okay… all good, baby?” He tenderly asked. You nodded, pulling him into you. As you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, you knew that this night had changed everything. The secret you shared would bind you together, and the passion that ignited between you was burning brighter than ever before.

Naively, you hadn't exactly anticipated waking up naked and tangled in your brother's best friend's sheets after the club, feeling the steady rhythm of Trent's heartbeat under your cheek. As reality set in, you let out a quiet groan, a mix of bliss and uncertainty. You really liked Trent, but what were you both doing? What were you thinking? Sure you didn’t kiss at the club but anyone could've seen you together last night. Not to mention what happened in the privacy of Trent’s bed last night. This wasn't fair to Jack. Yet, the warmth of Trent's arms around you made it hard to think of anything else. Then suddenly you could feel those gorgeous brown eyes fixed on you.

"Stop staring at me," you giggled sleepily, sensing Trent's gaze on you as you lay draped across his chest.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing light circles on your bare back, pulling you from every nagging worry.

"Stop," you muttered shyly. "Also, you've 100% seen me sleep before..."

"Not like this," he replied, his voice soft but teasing. "Not in my bed, not on top of me, not naked... definitely not after we had sex." His smirk made you both laugh and blush, but you didn't pull away.

"Did I live up to your expectations?" you teased, hiding a bit of genuine curiosity.

"Surpassed them," he whispered, tilting your face to look at him. "From the first kiss," he added, his eyes warm, making you feel seen in a way that felt new and thrilling. You cuddled closer, sighing into his warmth, a quiet, affectionate

"My T..." escaping your lips in a soft murmur. Trent's lips curled into a smile.

"Yeah? Yours now?” He teased as a wave of embarrassment and surprise washed over you. You felt the urge to pull back, realizing what you'd just said. You felt it, you felt he’d been yours for forever but now with your arms around him it felt more real. You just regretted saying it aloud massively. But before you could say anything more to backtrack, he beat you to it. "Good. I like that." His voice was a gentle reassurance, grounding you in the moment. You couldn't help but smile, pressing closer into his embrace, thinking that maybe-just maybe-this was worth all the risk. You stayed in bed, savoring the lingering warmth and thrill of the night before, feeling like you were tangled up in the best and most complicated decision of your life. Trent stretched beside you, rubbing the back of his neck. He groaned, dramatizing his soreness.

“I gotta run to training, baby,” he murmured, sitting up, his voice hesitant. “But you know, like… where stuff is, or… I don’t know,” he added with a shy laugh, glancing over at you.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, trying to mask the slight guilt you felt for even being at his place. “I can let myself out.” You shyly told him. But Trent shook his head, looking at you earnestly.

“Nah, I don’t mean that. I meant…” He paused, then took a deep breath. “If you want, you could… hang out, y’know? Till I get back.” A small, hopeful smile played on his lips. He wanted more than just a hook-up, but he also didn’t want to push you too much, too soon. There was a fine line here. You knew each other so well already so it was hard to find the right medium.

“Okay…” you replied softly, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into his bed, feeling the comforting scent of him on the sheets. It was the softest, most comfortable place you’d ever been, and every inch of you wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling. Trent leaned over, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder blade, lingering just a moment. He rested his forehead there, warm and content. The quiet promise hung between you both, and when he finally pulled away, the smile on his face mirrored your own. This was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

That night and the following day made everything very real for you. You would text but it was tense. Not in a negative way, just in a dangerous way. It was flirty but cautious. Neither of you knew what the other wanted out of this. It was insane you were doing this, risking it all, but it felt far too forward to just jump into something like dating. It was hard not to wonder if this was all just a physical thrill for him. He could get any girl, so why just use you for that… But in any case you weren’t exactly going to stop him. The two times you had sex were the best of your life. The days after would unfold in a series of stolen glances and held-back smiles, a mix of excitement and uncertainty hovering between you and Trent. Now that you both knew how good the sex was, you made sure not to spend too much time alone, knowing full well how easily things would spiral. Whenever he’d text you something cheeky, it’d leave you grinning and tense all at once. The messages bounced back and forth, his words flirty but guarded, your responses mirroring the same cautious playfulness. Both of you circled around what you wanted, but neither quite daring to define it. The tension simmered, unspoken questions lingering. Did he just want something physical? Was this a fling, or was he holding back for the same reasons you were? A small part of you worried, wondering if he saw this as a thrill, something exciting but ultimately fleeting. But another part of you couldn’t let it go—not when the chemistry felt this real, this undeniable. Not after some of the things he’d said to you. So you found yourself slipping further into it… into him, savoring the anticipation, not ready to pull back even as you held on tightly to the ‘what ifs.’ For now, neither of you were stopping, and maybe that was all that mattered.

One evening, you returned home from a dinner with friends, laughter still lingering on your lips when you saw him there…Trent, perched at the kitchen island next to your brother, Jack. The ease you'd felt moments ago fizzled into something else entirely, a mix of excitement and nerves. You hadn't expected him to be here tonight, and the realization set off a charge between you that felt impossible to ignore. Trent's eyes found yours the second you walked in, and you saw something flicker in his gaze. The cocky confidence he usually wore so easily faltered; he swallowed, letting his eyes flutter closed for just a second, as if seeing you threw him off balance. He knew he should've texted to give you a heads-up, but he didn't know the rules any more than you did. Were there rules at all? There had been no conversations, no ‘what are we doing’ talks, only late-night touches and whispered promises that lingered like secrets. Now, here he was, in your space again, and the unspoken tension between you felt all the more real with Jack in the room.

Jack was hunched over, engrossed in a tub of ice cream as he scooped out of it directly with a spoon, clearly settled in the comforts of his own home. You walked over and playfully swiped a bit off the lid, the cold against your finger a welcome distraction as you licked it off. The whole time, you could feel Trent's gaze tracking every movement, his stare so intense you almost felt heat radiate off him. When you glanced up, his eyes were fixed on you, almost as if willing himself to look away. You sucked on your finger pretending to be innocent purring a ‘yum.’ He shut his eyes briefly, as though watching you was more than he could bear. Once the ice cream was cleanly off your finger and you knew Trent was locked in you casually peeled off the sweatshirt you had on, too aware of the way your shirt underneath it clung to your frame and you wanted to show him just that. As you pulled the jumper over your head, the fabric of your top underneath rose up, you watched as Trent's jaw tightened, his gaze dropping to the bare skin revealed beneath the hem. He mouthed ‘stop; at you, his eyes pleading, though his lips hinted at a smirk, like he was caught between amusement and frustration. You couldn't help but return the smirk, leaning into the innocence of the moment while savoring the effect it had on him. As you moved to brush past Trent's kitchen island stool, your hand slid against the cool countertop, steadying you as you sent him a flirtatious look. Jack, completely oblivious but mildly annoyed by your stealing swipe, reached for the ice cream tub and turned to walk back over to the freezer to put it away with a small grumble. Tren wasn't having your teasing though. As Jack’s back turned, his hand shot out, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer with enough possessiveness to make your breath catch. His fingers pressed into your side, holding you in place as he leaned in, his voice low and rough against your ear.

"Stop it," he whispered, his words a command masked in a tease, his breath hot against your skin. His smirk was still there, but you could sense he was barely keeping his composure. You swallowed, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly, each inch between you charged with electricity. “Thought you liked being a good girl f’me?” His voice was soft, teasing, and you felt his fingers flex against your waist. He chuckled under his breath. His fingers slid from your waist just as Jack shut the refrigerator door, your cheeks flushed as you stepped back, trying to steady your breathing and maintain the playful pretense. But the truth was, every touch, every glance was unraveling the control you'd both been clinging to. Jack turned back around, oblivious once more, but you and Trent exchanged another look, the kind that said everything you couldn't out loud. The thrill was undeniable, but beneath it all was a question that neither of you wanted to ask-was this just a game, or was there something more? And with Jack so close, both of you knew one thing: the stakes were only getting higher.

You headed up to your room, turning down the invitation to join Jack, Trent, and their friends who’d since come over for another movie night. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but being in the same room as Trent right now—so close, yet unable to act on how you felt—seemed like torture. And in addition to that torture you couldn’t do this to Jack. The touches in the kitchen were already unfair. Not in his own home. You needed space to cool down, away from the tension that always sparked whenever Trent was near. But once upstairs, your phone buzzed. It was Trent, and just seeing his name on your screen made your heart race.

The message read, casual but with an undertone you couldn’t quite place. You smirked, already forming a response in your head.

You replied, keeping it short and sweet, trying to play it cool. You didn’t want him to think you were avoiding him, even if part of you was. Seconds later, another buzz.

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was a little inside joke between you two. Trent always teased you about your habit of talking through films, but secretly, you knew he liked your commentary and questions. And now, you definitely knew he liked your company. Your fingers hovered over the screen as you typed out a response, trying to ignore how giddy you felt.

His next message came in almost immediately, and it stopped you in your tracks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you had to read it twice just to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Was he really asking what you thought he was asking? You stared at your phone, biting your lip as a wave of nervous excitement washed over you. This wasn’t a casual hangout invite—it felt like something more. Something you’d both been skirting around for too long. Your mind raced as you considered how to respond, trying to balance your excitement with the need to not come off too eager. You didn’t think it was a date but it was hanging out alone and not some sort of drunk lustful afterthought.

You finally typed, keeping your tone light, though inside, your pulse quickened. You didn’t want to give away how much this meant to you—not yet. You were relieved Trent’s reply came fast.

You flopped back onto your bed, covering your face with a pillow to muffle the excited squeal that escaped your lips. Your legs kicked the air as your mind raced. Was this really happening? The thought of being alone with him, away from prying eyes, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite suppress. You typed out your next reply, trying to keep your cool.

You typed feeling mildly braver.

Trent texted back, simple, direct, and flirty… and perfect. All of it somehow made it even more exciting. You tossed your phone onto the bed, rolling over as a grin spread across your face. You couldn’t even play it cool on the outside, inside, you were buzzing but your texts read calm… at least you hoped they did. Regardless, Trent and you had just decided the line was officially gone and you couldn’t wait to see what happened now.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 5 - Together or Apart xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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toxicanonymity · 4 months ago

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For context, a tumblr account has been posting anon hate for the past week or so, mostly toward writers. A parasocial hater of mine discovered the account and has been going to town. I posted this after they invoked Israel as an analogy. Yes really.

Obviously I am disgusted by what I just read, and floored that anyone would post such a deranged analogy in the interest of stirring up fandom drama. I'm very sorry to everyone who has been attacked and everyone who has witnessed all this. Others have posted about the situation as a whole, and I'm not sure what I could add. But I want you to know many of these "confessions" are from one individual who has been fixated on me (and probably others) for weeks if not months. I already had the following in my drafts:

warning: please don't read this if you're sensitive to hate or could be triggered by the trivialization of real abuse. (edit: they went on to trivialize genocide too but they'll pretend to be different people). there's also a really gross anatomical reference.

the screenshots are all after I blocked them.

I normally don't address things like this, but that's because I'm trying to keep it off your dash and off my blog (for several reasons including not wanting to give the hate a larger audience for their message). Normally I block/delete. But thanks to a blog dedicated to posting anon hate, some of this is already on the dash, and I thought some additional context could be illuminating.

a couple weeks ago, this person chimed in on my non-fandom post, and their comment made me uncomfortable. I checked to see if they followed me and they didn't, plus their blog tagline was antagonistic. I was confident they weren't being earnest. I replied, pointing out my issue with their comment and asking them to keep their thoughts to themselves rather than coming at me from a sideblog. I thought they must have followed me from a main account since they somehow found an untagged, unreblogged post without following me. But I now realize they were simply hate checking my blog.

(Blocked the burner too)

They were saying this last bit preemptively - I've never talked about stalkers here. I didn't include all their anons, just enough to show they clearly out themselves as being the same person. In other "confessions," they make repeated references to a former fandom writer they idolize (not me) who they also posted about on their blog.

I won't be dropping this creep's url in this post, but I had never heard of them. This week they have repeatedly changed their url, display name, and blog appearance. Their writing is recognizable and I believe they are responsible for the unhinged asks preceding katy's departure from tumblr. They also made a rude comment on her post.

This may only aggravate them. I expect them to hurl any lies and accusations they can think of toward me. They will act like they're laughing and amused, too. You may recognize their tone. I want to trust this fandom not to believe and repeat anything they hear, but unfortunately my experience in this fandom leaves me pessimistic.

I can only hope people use common sense at this point.

Note - I know I'm normally really private about everything, but you're welcome to share this. Their lies are already out there anyway. Also feel free to DM me and I will tell you what you want to know.

Update: the anon-hate account referred to above has deactivated. It was named pedgeconfessions. It wasn't the first to pop up this summer and may not be the last.

#tw hate #discourse #cw discourse #tw abuse #pedro pascal fandom confessions #hate stalker #parasocial

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deesseshesca · 2 months ago

Text

PAC: How can you deepen the bond with your partner ?

There must be something cynical about being on your period and wanting a baby ... orrrrr.... nahhhh.... I am a maneater until the day i di-

Good afternoon pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 10-11

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Your future lover (LAST DAY 15/10)| SEX Douala =SALE READING

PILE 1

Even though you may feel disconnected from the relationship right now and have contemplated walking away, your partner’s decision to change signals a pivotal moment. Their renewed focus on the relationship is genuine, and this could be the fresh start you both need. However, rebuilding trust and connection won’t happen overnight, especially with the emotional distance that has crept in.

You might feel uncertain, like your instincts are a bit off or you’re struggling to trust their efforts, but try to approach this phase with an open mind. Take things slow, and give yourself permission to feel both doubt and hope at the same time. It's okay to be cautious, but recognize their effort for what it is—a true attempt to make things right.

Communication will be key. Even though there might have been a breakdown in how you both express your emotions, make space for honest conversations. Talk about your fears, disappointments, and what you need moving forward. They seem committed to focusing on the relationship, but they will need guidance to understand how to nurture it in a way that feels meaningful to you. Don't be afraid to express what hasn't worked in the past and what you want to see differently.

Your partner’s willingness to change is a sign of their dedication, but for the relationship to truly move forward, both of you will need to find a balance between emotional vulnerability and action. This is a chance to rebuild from a stronger, more honest foundation, but it will require patience and effort from both sides. Trust the process, even if it feels rocky right now, and allow the transformation to unfold naturally.

*** BONUS ***

This relationship is newly official but you guys have been messing with each other for a hot minute. They finally let go of their ego. Y’all thought they did not want to be with you because of your looks. I feel like it’s a cut in 2. One side is different race, maybe the person is white and you are black living in a more white neighborhood. Others are the size, you are medium size and bigger and that person is conventionally good looking. Others are culture, I’m hearing : Mexican and Arabic. So since both cultures have similarities but when holding differences it is polar opposite. But actually they did not cuff you because of their ego, I don’t really know the root of the problem but it has nothing to do with you (also like mention on other PAC or collective reading, if we do not give me permission, I don’t dig). They took a hit in their life and realized that you were the only real one. I don ‘t think their hit was public since everything look good from the outside but everyone close to them, even their ‘’friends’’ know that they fuck up. Don’t worry they saw the way you transform. The way you are embarrassing everything that people use against you, whether it be your weight, your curly hair and darker skin tone, your tradition… you are loving it all and glowing. But even though they change and hold to all their promises, there’s still a need to address the big elephant in the motherfucking room … Why did it take you so long to grow some balls ? That feeling of uneasiness you feel, chérie d’amour… I feel it 2 ! Like on the card everything is perfect but my intuition is ticking not because they are doing something sneaky behind your back instead is about their fucking intention. Almost like I'm being played… but I have yet to capture the king (final evidence) to scream CHECKMATE ! So I am waiting and sharing the bonus message that spirit allows me to have. Because babe, if they did not give me the signal to shuffle for more, I would have send you you merry way because they had me fucking convince. Lastly you are personally so close to complete fulfillment don’t let anyone or anything hinder that for you.

💌 : What's making me tik, is they went from avoiding you to completely being immerse in your energy. Almost like they know you crave touch and is feeding you the only thing that can't make you think deeper into what's really going on. Chile chérie d'amour, if you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 2

To deepen your bond with your partner, it's important to be patient and understanding of the emotional battles they are facing. They may feel vulnerable and unsure about sharing their struggles fully, so it's crucial that you create a safe space where they feel comfortable opening up without fear of judgment. Encourage them to talk about their feelings and let them know that you're here to support them, no matter how difficult it may seem.

Your partner is someone who has been through immense pain and may still be carrying that weight, but they are determined to hold on because of their deep care for you. They might resist letting go of past hurt, but your consistent love and gentle reassurance can help them find the strength to move forward. Instead of pushing them to "get better," focus on being a steady source of support, reminding them that their worth goes beyond their struggles.

You both can build a solid foundation together by acknowledging the difficult moments while staying committed to a brighter future. Find small ways to celebrate victories, even if they seem minor, and remind them of the life you are creating together, filled with love, stability, and shared dreams.

Lastly, make sure to take care of yourself too. It's easy to pour all your energy into helping someone you love, but maintaining your own emotional well-being will ensure you both can grow stronger together. Stay hopeful, and keep the vision of a fulfilling future in mind. Your bond can weather this storm as long as you continue to meet them with understanding, compassion, and the strength they need right now.

Extra: I need to write this white on black ... YOU WILL NOT ATTEND THEIR FUNERAL (they use to deal with suicidal thoughts. Mes chéries d'amour when you they say that they ARE better and working hard mentally (because I feel like they already work very hard at school and work ) for y'all future, they are doing it !

💌 : If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 3

To deepen your emotional bond with your partner, it’s essential to continue honoring the healthy boundaries you’ve established while also allowing space for more vulnerability and connection. You’ve done the inner work, understanding that in order to love fully, you need to prioritize your own well-being. Now, it's about balancing this self-care with a deeper level of emotional intimacy.

Your partner may sense that you're more independent and focused on your personal growth, and while this is incredibly healthy, it’s important to make sure they don’t feel shut out. Sharing your thoughts, dreams, and fears—without compromising the time you need for yourself—will help strengthen your bond. Being open about where you are emotionally will encourage them to do the same, building mutual trust.

At times, you might feel the urge to retreat or protect yourself out of habit, but don’t shy away from those moments when connection calls for more openness. You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore; your partner is someone who can walk with you on this journey.

Bringing passion into the relationship through spontaneity and excitement will also create deeper ties. Whether it’s going on a new adventure together or rekindling the playful, passionate side of your connection, these moments will help balance the self-reflection with joy and lightness. Your ability to nurture both the connection you have with yourself and the relationship will strengthen your emotional bond with your partner.

Ultimately, deepening your bond comes from maintaining those boundaries you’ve set, but also learning when to let them soften, allowing your partner to share in your emotional world. This mutual exchange of support and love will bring you both closer, as long as you continue pouring into both cups—yours and theirs.

💌 : If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 4

You’ve finally found the love you deserve after going through so much healing and learning to truly love yourself. Even though this relationship brings you happiness, you might still feel the remnants of your past—old fears or doubts that occasionally surface. Those walls you built to protect yourself are still standing, but now they no longer serve you. It's okay to acknowledge that you've been hurt before, but it's also important to recognize that you're no longer that person who was unsure or hesitant.

Your partner, the one you were once shy about, has helped you step out of your comfort zone and realize that taking that chance was worth it. The joy you feel now is a result of your growth, and while it’s easy to fall back into old patterns of guarding yourself, there’s no need for that in this relationship. You are with someone who appreciates you for who you are, and the bond between you two is strong and fulfilling.

Sometimes, the intensity of this love might scare you, or you might worry about losing it. But instead of letting fear dictate your actions, lean into the trust and happiness you’ve built. Take time to rest, reflect, and remind yourself that you’ve done the work to be here. You’ve moved past those heavy emotional barriers, and now it’s about enjoying the connection without overthinking it.

Allow yourself to continue embracing the love you’ve found, without letting old anxieties take away from the beauty of the present moment. You’ve earned this happiness through your self-love and healing journey, and there’s no reason to hold back now. Trust yourself, trust your partner, and savor the love you’ve created together.

💌 : Babe they are going to put a ring on it !!!!! I feel like is all new. Y'all just started dating but is only the beginning of a lovely love journey !!!! If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

#tarot #tarot reading #tarotcommunity #pac #pick a card #tarot cards #divination #pick a picture #pick a pile #kinktober #paid tarot reading #paid readings #paid tarot readings #paid services #love reading

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sanhwaism · 10 months ago

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bf!ateez and that one specific habit they do that highlights their love language

pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ ot8 x gn .ᐟ reader

genre ⟡ established relationship, romance, fluff

author's note ⟡ haaaaapy valentine's day 💌☁️ not long ago i have reached 100 followers eeek ^_^ so so grateful for every single one of you!! take this as my gift for both this milestone and valentine's day <3 (the specific habit of theirs will be written in italics just so it can be easier to spot hehe)

k. hongjoong — quality time

ah yes, the busy and very hardworking captain :,)

he's aware of the time spent in his studio; composing and producing music are in his nature after all!

so he feels very thankful that you are understanding and always there for him to cheer him up or reassure him that he doesn't have to feel guilty even when he's pulling all nighters there

yet he still feels bad deep down

at the same time he can't abandon his work

so every chance he gets — and i mean EVERY — when he's not that overworked he makes sure to learn about what you're into so he can spend time with you in a way which you'd enjoy the most

whether it's a new game you're into, or a tv show or a book or

the moment you mention it ONCE???? be sure he's taking a mental note and paying the closest attention to it

because he acknowledges that it will be useful for later

no matter what it is, he'll try his best to pick up on it so you can have a great time together

"oh is this the new video game you started playing? guess what i actually got into it as well so we can play it together now!! :D!"

"oh i know you told me about this book you're reading so i bought a copy as well and i started it whenever i took breaks at work!! let's talk about it!! :D!"

sobs

he's genuinely so thoughtful

so yes, knowing how much time he spends away from you makes him want to learn more about your interests so the moment he has you back in his embrace, he will make sure to repay you in the sweetest way possible!

p. seonghwa — words of affirmation

the type of boyfriend that always makes sure you know how great you're doing and how proud he is of you :(

he wouldn't go a day without praising you

if he is away from you because of work, expect a very early morning message from him in which he wishes you a good day ahead, that you will do great no matter what and he hopes you get to eat some yummy food in the meantime

and then later that day more encouraging words to keep you motivated and to also remind you that he loves you dearly

sobbing again

he wants you to tell him every detail about your day so he can praise every single effort you're making out there, no matter how small or insignificant you think it is

he'd tell you that just thinking of you gives him enough energy to go throughout the day

and he'll try his best to comfort you with his magical healing words if there is something you're going through

one thing about seonghwa is that he will validate your feelings no matter what. and that makes you feel so safe and appreciated and so so loved :(((

he's just comfort personified

he feels like hot chocolate served with marshmallows on top in front of the fireplace

if he's home and there are no miles that distance him from you, every single affectionate word that comes out of his mouth sounds even more soft hearted if that's possible

because not only does he know how to pick the best words and when to use them, but also the tone of his voice is just so soft and soothing

and now that no screen separates you both, his praises feel even more meaningful

he'd gently smile while caressing your cheek and whisper that he missed you so much and now that the day is over, everything that you have accomplished makes him so proud <3

j. yunho — physical touch

oh my god

PLEASE listen to me

when i say that i keep seeing those specific cutest clips of yunho that altered my brain chemistry

i mean it

they altered it so badly to the point where my opinion on his love language changed

everything clicks in your head the moment you realize that yunho has been doing this gesture to you after you two got more comfortable with each other

you walk baside him while holding his hand?

all of the sudden you feel his large, soft hand on the top of your head

he looks at you all smiley while you talk to him?

the next second his hand is moving towards the crown of your head, cutely ruffling your hair

you're eating and paying attention to the food before your very eyes?

headpat.

another headpat.

cute little soft headpat

is it the height difference that just makes him unable to control his hand from such sweet gesture?

probably

most certainly, actually

he just can't help it :( one look at how cute you look and you don't even get the chance to finish your sentence be–

yup. headpat!!!!!

it's never enough for him, there are times where he feels the urge to just start speedily yet gently tap the top of your head countless times while your head just bops up and down

the way people do with their pets when the cuteness aggression hits (please tell me you know what i mean)

if you dont i gotchu i provide with visual representation here! (volume warning!!!! its loud!!)

he finds that HILARIOUS and so adorable at the same time

he'd just start giggling and you can't help but enjoy his laugh and playfulness

but if he doesn't stop you're gonna get dizzy a bit so he'll recieve a headpat in return!

... just a more aggressive one

call it a cute bonk ^_^

emotionally prepare yourself not to get TOO affected by his sudden puppy eyes because how dare you do such thing to him :<

apologize with a forehead smooch and he'll get all shy and so cutieful

k. yeosang — acts of service

your personal trainer angel fairy dreamy looking like boyfriend

fondly sighs

yeosang's love for you is so gentle and thoughtful

he's your safe haven

his best way to express his feelings is by making sure you're always taking care of yourself, especially reminding you daily to take your supplements and vitamins!!

one day while you were cuddling him on the couch, you expressed your desire to have a more balanced and healthy lifestyle because he inspires you to do so

that was the moment a big shiny lightbulb lit up above yeosang's head

because he had the perfect idea how to help!! :D

the next day you'd already have in your hands a cute storage vitamin box that he got for you where you can organize your vitamins by days so it can be easier for you :(

of course he has one as well

he is always the one that helps you buy them once you run out

and he'd try his best to do his research based on your preferences and what seems to work best for you

when you tell him how much of a big difference they've been making and how much more energetic you feel, his smile melts your heart

he gets all bashful and giggles to himself, waving his hand as if he doesn't consider that he has done a lot

(well i consider eating him in one bite)

after all, that's what a good boyfriend should do! no biggie!

but yeosang has no idea how much it means to you; for him to always check up in you, to be your daily reminder just in case you forget about the vitamins, to diligently help you achieve the healthy lifestyle you strive for

c. san — physical touch

everyone please act shocked

of course it's physical touch

i feel like i'd commit a crime if i didn't pick it

he's just a cute clingy cat :(

you figured out his love language quite fast, a little bit after you have made your relationship official and gave him your consent

he was shy at first

VERY shy

at first he could feel satisfied enough even with just your hand in his, or a timid hug

honestly he just wanted you near him!

but after some time when both of you got more comfortable with each other and after lots of showers with affection,

he started attacking your cheeks in the cutest way possible

every time he would have you near him, you'd see him suddenly leaning towards one side of you

next second you'd feel the softness of his cheek touching yours

and not only touch

but he would push himself even closer to you if that's possible, smushing your cheeks together while he's pouting

as if he wants to fuse both of your bodies into one because having you like that against him?? clearly isn't enough

also starts gently rubbing it against your own cheek, humming to himself because of how nice the feeling is while his eyes are closed in content

with time you got used to it and even started to like it and look forward to it

(every time i see clips of him doing that to other members i can't help but giggle)

he's just the cutest <3

no one cats the way san cats

s. mingi — quality time

the type of boyfriend that if he could, he would attach you to his hip like a lucky charm forever and ever

because you always bring him luck, inspiration and hope whenever he has you near him :(

he feels a bit lost in your absence, always looking for ways to hear from you one way or another

so a lot of times when you two would blissfully share each other's space, mingi would ask you to attend his dancing practice, so you can witness what impressive moves he came up with and what choreographies he has been working on ^^

he is truly sososososo talented

and you'd just watch him with your lips slightly parted, amazement written all over your face as your eyes would follow the way his flexible body moves like water, with such calculated and striking motions

or other times, when he'd willingly share his personal space with you in his studio where he worked on so many new instrumentals and demos that might be useful for the group's future releases or his solo projects

every minute he would turn his head towards you just so he could catch a glimpse of your face expression

and he would smile to himself as he'd gaze at the endearing way you enjoy the rhythm and overall vibe of the music

his eyes would start sparkling in the dim lighting as you praise his efforts and works

and the biggest, cutest smile would adorn his bare face

sobs mingi.. mingi!! ^__^ mingi :3 MINGI!!!!!!!!

from that moment on, he only grows more confident to have you partake in any type of project he's crafting

you soon realize that you're the only one that gets this treatment

that's how big of an effect you have on song mingi. and he loves you dearly. always share your feedback and space with him. pretty please with a cherry on top <3

he said that not me

j. wooyoung — BITING gift giving

sorry let me get serious

WOOYOUNG.

this man emanates love through every single pore so it was SO hard to pick only one love language

but it had to be done!

he's typically in his sugar baby era

but when it comes to you????????

i hope you're prepared to get spoiled ^^

his love for you is just too strong

but so is his credit card!

even before both of you confessed to each other, wooyoung had been giving you subtle hints that he was having a crush on you

and a lot of his hints were consisting mostly in him buying something for you

you eyed a cute plushie through the shop's window?

"waa, wooyoung, this plushie is so cute don't you think!!!!"

wooyoung thinks that he is buying it for you!!!!!

and you know what

he's getting two plushies actually, because they remind him of you and him

once he steps out of the shop, he hands the plushie to you with the cutest smile plastered on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes

"look, it's us," he exclaims as he brings his plushie close to the one in your hands and, to your utter surprise, makes them aggressively kiss.

(i just made myself SO devastated by writing that oh my god)

that was actually the day you two admitted having a crush on each other

from that day on, wooyoung's need to spoil you only grew

he'd want to match with you not only when it comes to a pair of plushies or ten, but clothes as well

not those that are SO visibly matching, instead more subtle ones that sort of compliment each other's looks and make you two match perfectly, like two puzzle pieces :,)

yes, wooyoung would be the one that would buy the clothes for you and surprise you with soooo many bags in front of your door, so excited for you to try on everything

he's whipped! can you blame him :(

you are his happiness and he wouldn't have it any other way, you deserve every single gift, end of discussion!!

c. jongho — acts of service

the acts of service king

i said what i said!!

also the king of americanos yup yup iktr!

speaking of americano coffee :>

in the beginning of your relationship with jongho, you'd often have dates at the prettiest, comfiest cafes in town

you'd both order your usual drink of choice, and whenever you'd get coffee, he would pay extra attention to what type of coffee is it so he can get a cup for you next time and impress you with it

not just coffee but shh this is about coffee shh

after some time, you took the relationship to the next level, moving in together;

and whenever jongho had to leave earlier than you for his schedule, the mornings would smell like the best freshly made coffee you had ever smelled

because your sweet and attentive boyfriend would try his best to copy the recipe of your favorite coffee drink

from scratch as well

grinding the best coffee beans he could find into grounds

using water heated between 195°F-205°F

aiming for a total brew time between 3-5 minutes

like this is serious for him.

because he NEEDS it to be perfect and he NEEDS to cutely brag about it and he NEEDS to make you feel very pleased!

"hey, y/n, would you like some coffee?"

"no, thank youuu, my boyfriend made me the best cup of coffee this morning !!"

he would also leave a lovely note next to the mug :(

what more could you ask for. seriously.

you're gonna have some people become jealous but hey! choi jongho THE choi jongho chose you <3 and you will always be the only one he would make coffee for, from scratch, at the first glow of the sunrise

you are the apple of his eye

the only apple he would never break in half

see what i did there :D

𓏲 ࣪₊♡ taglist: @yuyusuyu

{💌ྀི} masterlist.

#ria.snhw #ria!drabble ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez headcanons #ateez x gender neutral reader #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader

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leafsbabe · 10 months ago

Text

Travis Kelce - private show (SMUT)

2k, there is a butt plug in this in case you don't like that

He loved his team, he truly did, but Travis was also very glad when their post-training meeting was over and he could dip. None of his teammates tried to stop him as he all but ran out of the room, something he was grateful for. In the past it had been a given that he would walk out with some of the other men, talking, joking, but nowadays that had become a rare sight. He was always in a rush to get back to his room, back to the closest thing he had ever come to an addiction.

Away games hadn't been the same ever since he had stumbled across that fateful link.

By some lucky coincidence the facilities for the visiting team in the field they’d be playing tomorrow were absolute ass so the chiefs had rented out one of the hotel meeting rooms for their review. Meaning all Travis had to do to get back to his room was hop onto an elevator. After that he was free to lock himself in his room until it was time for dinner.

The elevator crawled up to his floor at a snail's pace but he stopped himself from impatiently rocking back and forth on the soles of his feet. When it finally came to a stop he started to squeeze out of the elevator before the doors had fully opened but he didn’t even care how it looked, he was already late and he didn’t want to miss any more.

The door to his room slammed shut behind him as he stormed in, jumping onto the bed with enough energy that realistically it should have broken but by some miracle stayed intact as he opened his carefully changed laptop while attempting to toe off his shoes.

The website didn’t automatically open once he clicked on his browser but he had been visiting it religiously to the point that it autofilled after a single letter. His pants started to feel too tight before the site had even finished loading and Travis couldn’t help but groan at the realisation that he fucking pavloved himself into getting a semi at the mere thought of you.

The stream had already started but hopefully he didn’t miss much. A familiar background greeted him before his eyes focused in on you. Splayed across the bed you’re a sight for sore eyes, hair messed up just enough to let him know you’d played with it before he logged on, body clad in next to nothing. A new, expensive next to nothing. Good to know all of the money he sent you got put to good use.

He waited for you to greet him like you usually did, surely you must have noticed him joining your stream, he was your biggest fan after all, but when you didn’t he sent you a message over private chat. Expensive, yes, but he didn’t need people knowing his dirty little secrets.

Finally you acknowledged him.

“Hi bigyeti, nice of you to join again.” It seemed like a standard greeting but he knew by your tone that you were annoyed at him for being late again. Brat. Travis watched you slide a hand over your bare skin until it reached the lace covering your chest. But instead of teasing one of your hard nipples through the material or even taking it off to show the irresistible swell of your chest you just ran your fingers over the seam at the edge of your bra. “As much as I think this set is cute, this will probably be the last time you’ll see me in it. It’s not really comfortable and I can barely get it closed by myself.”

You were probably hoping for messages offering to help you with that but Travis had been watching long enough to read between the lines. You were going to offer up the set but beat you to it. His simple message didn't get a written reply but he noticed you look off screen before smiling. “You know the price bigyeti.”

You didn’t take it off though, just changed positions until you were kneeling on the bed. It was only then that Travis noticed the selection of toys laid out in front of you.

“What do you think,” you picked up one of them, dark purple and intriguing, but not his favorite of the spread. “Should we run a poll or let the highest bidder decide?”

He sent you a rack before you even had time to decide, after which he finally rid himself of his sweats and underwear.

“You know which one.” Your sweet voice read his message in the chat, laughing as you held up the one you knew he wanted. Pale pink with ridges that could get you off every time, filling you up perfectly before the vibrations took you out. The first time he had watched you use it you had squirted and he had been hooked ever since.

“Should I be concerned big? You seem to like this little guy more than me.” You pouted at the camera, bringing the vibe up and tapping it against your bottom lip.

Travis groaned before typing again. Hopefully this would be a one handed operation soon.

“You know you’re my favorite. Aww that’s so sweet of you yeti. Want to know a secret?” He watched you lean forward, holding your chest into the camera with practiced ease. “You’re my favorite too.”

Travis slowly stroked himself as you bit your lip, reaching behind you and finally freeing yourself from the lace. You had been truthful about how ill fitting it was, his eyes automatically drawn to the red indents on the side of your boobs. He fantasized about getting his mouth on them, of soothing your flesh with his tongue.

You didn’t try to act sexy as you balled up the bra and threw it off-cam, something he came to enjoy. You were this temptress, bane of his bank account and object of his desire, but you were also human.

As he saw you kneeling there Travis finally gave in and reached for his lube, because he was in his thirties now and using lotion to jack off felt awfully juvenile. He watched you run your hands over your body, just palming himself to the view of you playing with your nipples.

“We’re going to try something new today.”

The tone of your voice had him shifting, sitting up straighter and paying more attention. He didn’t have to wait long to find out what something new meant. You got rid of the last remaining hint of nothing hiding your skin before turning around into the most perfect reverse cowgirl POV he knew and there it was. Nestled between your cheeks laid a small plug with a deep red gem at the end that sparkled in the lights you used during your shows. A hot shudder ran through him as the grip he had on himself tightened.

“You know what to do if you like it.” You smiled at the cam over your shoulder before turning back around.

Travis debated between finally touching himself properly and sending you another donation when you positioned the toy he picked and he relented. He’d just send you another tip later. He was slow with his movements, teasing himself as you sank down on the toy. You stopped halfway, adjusting to the stretch, but Travis just continued to stroke his dick.

You were noisy, he liked that about the streams. You weren’t holding back but it also didn’t feel like you were putting on a show. You were simply vocal in bed and he loved it.

Treavis continued to work himself as he watched you ride the toy, torn between closing his eyes and imagining it was you that had a hand wrapped around his dick or even riding it and wanting to watch you take your pleasure with the toy on stream. He watched you move, the way you stretched around the toy with every rise and fall. It was mesmerizing, the shimmer of that salacious gem catching his eye only for his focus to be drawn away by the flex of your thick thighs, or the dimples on your lower back, or those sweet filthy moans that kept on leaving your mouth. He felt drunk on you, drunk on the fire running through him.

There was no rhythm to the way Travis was stroking his cock as he watched you, all pretense of following your movements abandoned long ago. He felt his orgasm approaching, considering for a moment whether he should try and draw it out, to wait for you and come together, before giving that idea up and quickening his pace. He came to the sound of your moans, all over his fist and with his head thrown back in ecstasy.

Travis let himself float only until the next moan tore his attention back to the screen in front of him. You were barely riding the toy at this point, grinding more than anything. Even with his muddled mind it was clear that you were on the brink yourself.

When you finally tipped over it was with a shout. Your legs shook, more violently than he had ever seen from you before, while your body contracted around the sex toys filling you up. He palmed his softening cock as he watched you fall apart, too spent to try getting another orgasm out of it but still wired enough to draw out that afterglow for just a little while longer.

He watched as your orgasm came to an end, the shaking in your thighs never quite stopping even though the vibrations of your toy did. You removed the pink vibrator but that bejeweled plug stayed in place as you slowly turned around and sat in full view of the cam, leaning back on your hands and smiling. You were still breathing heavily but it only drew attention to your tits and Travis found himself reaching for his phone before he realized that his hand was covered in his cum and used his other one instead. He wasn’t good at typing with his nondominant hand but another tip found itself being sent your way soon enough anyway.

“That was fun.” You said, breathless but still smiling. No reaction to his message if you had even seen it. “We should do this again sometime.”

Travis got another long look at your body as you leaned forward to shut off the cam and then he was alone in his hotel room again.

Shutting his laptop before he got up, Travis went to wash his hands and clean up a bit of the mess around his dick. He would shower soon but there was something he had to take care of before that. His phone was still laid on the bed, even though he had to search through the sheets to find it.

Travis pulled up that all too familiar contact and pressed video call. You answered almost immediately, makeup still on your face but with your hair pulled back and a shirt thrown over your body.

“Was that good?” You asked as soon as the call connected. He could see you bite your lip, nervously, and he hated being so far away from you even more.

“You were perfect.” He answered, truthfully. “So hot, baby. Almost makes me want to set you up a real camming account just to show you off.”

The program you two had now was little more than a private video chat but Travis had tried to set it up nicely for you. It had involved a lot of awkward questions to one of the New Height techies but the chat worked amazing for your little cam show and your audience of one.

You just laughed at his antics. “No you wouldn’t.”

“No I wouldn’t.” He relented. “I don’t like to share, even if you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

You laughed again. “All yours.” You confirmed before continuing, teasing him with an account of the new things you had brought for the two of you to try. Fuck. He couldn’t wait to come home.

#travis kelce #football imagine #football smut #nfl imagine #nfl smut #travis kelce imagine #travis kelce smut #...so this is twenty-five

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leviscolwill · 1 year ago

Text

bad idea right ?

pairing: ex!jude bellingham x fem!reader

genre: girl making bad decisions, suggestive (no actual smut tho)

warnings: possibility of questionable grammar, a bit toxic sorryyyy

summary: meeting up with your ex after one too many drinks, what could possibly go wrong ? (wc: 1,2k)

note: based on olivia rodrigo's song,, it's just so good i had to 😪

now playing: bad idea right ? by olivia rodrigo (guts)

you did a good job at ignoring jude's constant calls and messages up til then, you really did. but the few shots you downed threw all these efforts away.

it was over, and you knew it when you replied asking for his new address that he sent you almost instantly, also adding a little "already ordered a uber for you :)"

"i need to go"

you knew your friends would kill you if you told them where you were actually going, so you kept that part to yourself.

"what happened ?"

"something came up, my roommate needs me home like right now."

"nothing bad right ?" you could feel a bit of worry in your best friend's tone so you tried to reassure her.

"nothing too bad, our washing machine is just acting up" you surprised yourself with your newfound ability to come up with lies so easily.

but no, it was truly nothing too bad, just about to meet up with my ex you guys hate.

there was a small part of you that wanted to tell them where you were actually going so they would convince you not to, but a bigger part wanted nothing more than to be at jude's right now.

after hugging your friends goodbye and hopping on the uber, you still had to fight a mental battle against the part of your brain that was still somewhat rational about this whole situation.

nothing good would come out of you meeting up with him, and deep down you knew it, you'd fall head over heels for jude again after you did such a good job at pretending to forget about him.

but at the same time, maybe you read the signs wrong, maybe he just wanted to catch up and nothing more. and there was nothing wrong with being friends with your ex, matter of fact, a few of your friends were still friends with their exes and it was never a synonym of a bad idea.

you were still debating whether or not seeing jude was a bad idea when you felt the car come to a stop.

you hopped out of it and jude opened his door right after like he'd been waiting for you for a while. he had his stupid smirk attached to his face, like he knew you would come back eventually. his attitude would have irked you, but in this very moment you didn't care, you walked in front of his door with a smile on your face and stars in your eyes.

jude wasted no time with greetings and let you in his living room while he went to his kitchen.

when he came back he was holding two glasses of water and he handed you one.

"i figured you might need a bit of water after tonight" he said with a tentative smile.

he was right, in a way, except you were pretty much sober by now and fully aware of where you were and the possible consequences of your actions. you thanked him and took a sip looking at your knees from the way he watched you intently.

you heard him chuckle and looked up at him.

"why did you want to meet up ?" you asked finally breaking the silence full of tension.

"i just don't like the way things ended between us." you rolled your eyes at this, it didn't have to be this way, but jude decided to break up with you and found a new girl a bit too fast for your liking, making things awkward after your breakup.

but he kept talking. "i know i haven't been the best boyfriend but i really want to fix things between us." the look he gave you made you weak in the knees, he grabbed the hand that sat on your thigh and started stroking his thumb on its back. "we can just take things slowly, one step at a time".

but you didn't want to take things slow, and neither did jude. there was no doubt left, it was wrong and you'll always end up hurt. and you believed jude could read your mind by the way his gaze changed, like he could tell that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. in this very moment you didn't care if it didn't last once again, you needed to have him for a night, a week, a month... it truly didn't matter.

jude tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and you felt his breath closer to your face, exactly what you wanted.

when you felt his lips against yours, you forgot to kiss him back for half a second as your mind started running laps. but when you kissed him back you poured out all those months of pent up frustration from ignoring him and his stupid texts. he grabbed your jaw deepening the kiss and you could feel jude's smile against your mouth when your hands wandered down his chest to his abs.

his mouth trailed down your neck where he started kissing at your skin while you gave him more space to do so, he took the opportunity to lick and bite your sweet spot, the action making you whine in return. you knew by the way he was sucking at your skin that it would leave a mark but your lucidity was long forgotten at this point, you would deal with this mess in the morning.

just as he started unzipping your dress, jude asked "do you really want this ?" with a yearning tone. you nodded fervently, hoping for him to give you something more. but instead he stopped kissing your sweet spot, much to your dismay. you looked up at him with confused eyes. "i need words princess, do you want this ?". of course he wanted to tease you as much as he could, but you didn't feel anything but desire so you simply complied. "i want this, i want you... jude please".

you could feel jude's look change after your words as he took your hand to lead you to his bedroom, both of you no longer caring about the intangible line between right and wrong, only needing to feel each other like you used to.

"is your roommate the one responsible for this ?" you didn't look where your friend was pointing, because you didn't need to. she was talking about the obvious purplish mark on your neck that even concealer couldn't hide away.

"no i just... spent the night at someone's." you felt your cheeks reddening by the minute thinking back to the night you spent at jude's after leaving your friends. you didn't even fully regret it, because as much as this idea sounded terrible you had a good time and your hopes were up once again that things might have changed.

"do i know who ?" you already knew she'd ask this question but you still couldn't find a believable lie so you just looked at your shoes that seemed like the most interesting thing on earth right now.

"no."

yes.

"no, don't tell me you spent the night with him."

but you did, and she could most definitely tell.

"i didn't mean to, i just tripped and fell into his bed i swear."

i'm always looking for new ways to improve my writing !! feel free to leave some feedback xx

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kesujo · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 2: Help Needed

Previous chapter here.

‘Parker, can you come over?’

Parker scoffed when his eyes scanned the message from his next-door neighbor of the opposite sex. He had spent the better part of last night drowning in guilt for what Jessica had put him through just a few hours ago, and she expected him to fall for the same trick again? Last night was also initiated by a seemingly innocuous text from the married woman, Parker acutely remembered.

He put aside his phone and continued with his breakfast, his phone ringing with the notification sound again a few minutes later. Seeing that it was from Jessica again, Parker ignored it until after he washed the dishes used in the day’s breakfast and sat down at his office chair. Now that he was wiser, Parker figured there wasn’t any harm in reading a message sent by her; after all, it wasn’t like she could brainwash him through a text message.

‘Parker, this is urgent. Can you please come over?’

Parker jolted out of his seat, his mind jumping to the worst-case scenario. Did Hunter somehow find out? Was she having regrets and wanted to console and discuss with him? Was it something unrelated, like an injury? Was she in danger?

Whatever the case was, Parker just felt like he couldn’t ignore it. All else aside, this was his best friend’s wife; he had some type of duty to help her now that Hunter was unable to. Or at least, that’s what Parker felt.

He entered the apartment using a spare key the married couple insisted he have. “Jessica?”

“I’m still in the bedroom,” Jessica’s weak voice drifted through the apartment, through the closed bedroom door.

“Are you OK?” he asked, speed walking to the bedroom. When he opened the door, he found Jessica still laying on the bed, the thick blanket wrapped around her entire body. “Did you get sick?”

She shook her head. “I can’t get up,” she said.

Parker furrowed his eyebrows and pursed his lips. “Why?”

“I’m still sore from how hard you fucked me last night.”

Parker promptly turned around and started walking out the door.

“Wait!” Jessica giggled, her voice returning to its more normal tone, “I’m serious though, it really does hurt to walk.”

Parker sighed, slowing down to a stop. If indeed what Jessica was saying was true, then he felt obligated to help her: Jessica was the one who forced him to be so rough, but he still felt a little responsibility nonetheless for causing Jessica the discomfort she was feeling. But even last night aside, this was still Jessica, his best friend’s wife; he harbored no ill will towards the adulterous woman despite what she forced him to do just a few hours prior, and if someone he cared about was in need of help, Parker was always happy to oblige.

“Do you want me to make you breakfast or something?”

“No, come here,” she said. Parker hesitated for a brief second before turning around as Jessica removed the blanket, immediately diverting his eyes upon seeing Jessica’s curvaceous, fully nude body framed perfectly by the blanket that was previously hiding it. “What are you looking away for?” she giggled again, clearly enjoying Parker’s reactions, “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked already; your cock was inside my pussy yesterday, you even filled me with your cum for God’s sake.”

“That’s—” Parker swore internally, feeling his dick twitching in response to her dirty talk. Stop. He did not need a repeat of last night. Maybe the problem was trusting that Jessica’s intentions would be innocent—but then again, it seemed like Jessica’s problem was sincerely inhibiting her ability to go about her normal life. “—that’s not a good enough reason—do you normally sleep naked?”

Jessica shrugged. “After you left, I washed up and still had a bit more energy so I ended up masturbating a bit more, imagining what it would’ve been like if we went another round,” Parker winced, shame filling his body as he felt his penis twitch again, getting a little bit harder, “And after that, I was naked and exhausted so I just ended up going to sleep that way.” She paused for a brief second, her gaze drifting downwards. “Why, does that turn you on?” Before he could cover his growing tent with his hand, she caught a glimpse of the developing bulge that was occurring in his private region. “Ooh, so—”

“Please, just tell me how you want me to help you.”

Jessica giggled, basking in the embarrassment showing on Parker’s face and his bashful replies and reactions. “Well, I usually take a shower in the morning but I don’t think I can stand up that long, so I thought I would take a bath today. So first, carry me to the bathroom,” she said, swinging her legs to the edge of the bed and holding her arms out like a baby.

It would be a startling and incredibly alluring sight if this woman wasn’t already in a relationship with Hunter. The playful, innocent, childlike action and matching smile completely contrasted her sexy body: her luscious tits, her perky pink nipples, her milky-white smooth skin, her long legs shining brilliantly in the bedroom’s light. “Can—” Parker was even hesitant about asking Jessica to try out walking herself, afraid that she might injure herself. After a brief debate inside his head, he acquiesced to the needy wife. “—fine. Are you able to walk there with my help, or do you need a piggyback ride?”

“Piggyback ride!” Again, Jessica’s excited response was so innocent and childlike that its sharp juxtaposition to her current sexy appearance—as much as it shamed Parker to admit—yet again turned him on a bit more.

Parker sighed and shook his head. “I’ll go fill the bathtub first and then come to pick you up,” he announced; a few minutes later, after the tub was adequately filled with hot water, Parker went back into the bedroom and bent down to get ready to transport Jessica to the bathroom. “Get on, kiddo,” he said, somehow getting taken by surprise when he felt her soft, more-than-ample bosom on his back.

“Thanks Parker,” Jessica nearly whispered into his ear after resting her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms and legs securely around his body. Parker gulped, trying his best to beat down the building arousal from feeling every inch of Jessica’s curves pressed against his back and repress the memories of their escapades from the night prior.

The few seconds it took to carry the small woman to the bathroom was done in silence, and when Parker arrived, he helped Jessica down and into the bathtub. “I’ll go—” Parker was interrupted, Jessica’s hand shooting out to grab Parker’s arm as he was in the middle of turning around.

“Wait,” she insisted, in an awkward stance somewhere between sitting down and standing up, her upper body unsubmerged and water droplets coalescing at her tits, dripping off her erect nipples.

“W-What?” Parker tried to reply nonchalantly, the slight stutter in his voice betraying him.

“The bathtub is too hard for me, I need something soft to sit on,” she explained.

“What, do you want me to get a pillow or something?” Parker laughed, confused.

“No, I want to sit on you.”

Parker felt his heartbeat accelerate as he gradually realized what Jessica was trying to do. No—No, he wasn’t going to let Jessica put him through this anymore. “I can’t—”

“Are you sure?” Jessica’s teasing sing-song voice reminded him of the crucial piece of blackmail she held over him.

After a brief moment of silence, Parker started, “Hunter’s…”

“..still got a few more days before his business trip is over,” Jessica finished for him, gently pulling the single man towards her.

“Let—Let me take my clothes off first at least,” Parker insisted, Jessica obliging and letting go of him. She kneeled on the bathtub patiently, an ever-increasing sense of discomfort and awkwardness creeping in as the married woman’s eyes remained trained on him like a hawk. “All you’re going to do is sit on me, that’s it. Alright?”

Parker knew his efforts to compromise were going to be futile, his hopes all but crushed when Jessica just smiled mischievously, saying, “Come in and see~”

“I don’t wanna go in there unless I know you won’t do anything else,” Parker insisted.

“But you do want to join me for this bath because otherwise…”

All Jessica had to do was ominously trail off there, wearing her ever-present playful smirk, for Parker to finally oblige.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath, his face turning a little pink after he started stripping when he removed his pants, revealing the visible tent in his boxers.

“Ooh, you’re getting turned on~” Jessica hummed happily, a wide smile spreading on her face. “This is gonna be so fun~”

“Just focus on cleaning yourself,” Parker insisted, hesitating for another second as his fingers wrapped around the hem of his boxers.

“Do you want me to—” Jessica started when she saw Parker hesitating, reaching out to Parker’s boxers herself. That was all the motivation Parker needed to strip himself, jumping back a little when Jessica’s dainty hands inadvertently landed on his dick. “Oh, it’s so hard, I’m so happy!~” Jessica beamed, an innocent excitement in her voice that completely juxtaposed their current situation.

“Are you going to let me get in?” Parker said, trying to shrug aside his embarrassment.

“Of course!” Jessica shuffled, making space for him, “Sit here,” she directed Parker once he entered the bathtub, flinching a little at the temperature of the water but acclimating quickly, finding a spot on the hard, smooth surface of the bathtub to sit down on.

As soon as Parker situated himself, Jessica followed suit, turning around and carefully settling herself on his lap. “OK that’s—stop,” Parker begged the woman whose soft, plump ass scooted along his legs closer to his crotch. “You don’t need to get any closer,” he said, placing his hands on her waist and halting her advance.

Jessica turned her head in response, a pout sitting on her lips. “Meanie,” she whined, carrying on with the act of childlike innocence. “How am I supposed to sit comfortably like this?”

“You should’ve considered that,” Parker said, naively believing he finally managed to reign Jessica in. Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, Jessica used a surprising surge of strength to slip out of his grip. Panicked, Parker backed up as much as he could, granting him the little bit of space he needed to dodge Jessica, whose butt cheeks rubbed against the length of his erect shaft that was pushed against his lower stomach area by the soft skin of her bottom.

“Hey!” Jessica complained, looking back.

“You need focus on washing!”

“No dodging this time,” Jessica insisted, reaching behind and firmly grabbing his shaft.

“What?” Parker tried to struggle but stopped after making eye contact and seeing her cocked eyebrow, understanding what it meant. “How—you’re supposed to be cleaning yourself,” he protested, desperately trying to ignore her slim digits wrapped firmly around his hardened member.

Jessica’s cheerful demeanor returned, lifting her ass off his lap just enough so that she could position Parker’s cock beneath her entrance before plunging down onto it. “Ooh fuck,” she groaned, her entire body shuddering as Parker’s cock slipped inside her womanhood once again.

Parker swore under his breath, the pulsating warmth enveloping his cock sending a chill up his spine. “Are—Aren’t you still hurting there?”

“I don’t care, your cock feels too fucking good stretching out my small, tight pussy,” she answered, more and more of his length disappearing between her folds. “Ugh, god, fuck,” she groaned, leaning back against Parker’s chest. Jessica’s partially wet hair brushed against his nape as she threw her head back, reveling in the feeling of fullness, a feeling of warmth both surrounding her and inside her.

Parker, on the other hand, was grimacing; the damp tightness securely wrapping around his member, her hot pussy walls gliding along his length, the feeling of his cock being buried deeper inside the married woman’s pussy all simultaneously created a feeling of overwhelming pleasure and guilt. He had no other choice, he rationalized, but it still didn’t take away from the all-consuming feeling that he was breaking the trust of his best friend.

“Th-There,” Jessica shuddered as she finally felt her shapely ass make contact with his groin.

“How—And how is this supposed to help you wash again?”

“Well,” Jessica explained, “This way, my outside can be washed with soap and my inside can be washed with your cum.” He could feel his cock twitch in response to her filthy words, Jessica noticing and letting out a brief squeal of delight. “You want to as well? To rinse my pussy out with your thick semen?” Jessica cheekily said, grinding her ass against Parker’s groin.

Parker groaned, pleasure shooting up his spine as her pussy massaged the length of his member, the additional feeling of her soft ass rubbing against his crotch. “N-No, just wash yourself.”

“Can you wash me?” Jessica said in a cute, innocent voice, leaning back against Parker’s chest and twisting her head to look up at the man whose cock she was sitting on with wide eyes.

“How am I supposed to wash you when—?” Parker stopped, realizing that Jessica could tease him if he finished that sentence. Unfortunately, Jessica did so anyway.

“When what? When my pussy feels this good? When it feels like your cock is being squeezed to death by my tight cunt? Is it distracting? Debilitating? Are you feeling so much pleasure you can’t move?”

A mischievous smile played at Jessica’s lips, reveling in how squeamish Parker was in reacting to her words—and how his cock twitched and grew slightly with every filthy word that passed her lips.

“You’re not a child right?” Parker continued, electing to not respond to Jessica’s attempt to egg him on, “You can wash yourself.”

Jessica pouted reaching back and grabbing his wrists. “It’ll be fun though! Don’t tell me you haven’t ever washed one of your girlfriends before,” she said, guiding his hands onto her tits. A sigh escaped her lips when Parker’s calloused hand made contact with the soft skin on her boobs, inadvertently biting her lower lip. “You like that?” Jessica once again turned her head around, trying to make eye contact with Parker but failing, Parker’s gaze adamantly directed to his right. Frowning, she grinded her ass against his groin again, eliciting a surprised moan from Parker.

“What—?” Parker’s eyes turned back to meet Jessica’s, a smile forming on her face as he did so.

“I’m not getting out of this bathtub until you wash me,” she stated, letting go of his wrists and reaching for the soap and handing it to Parker.

“…Fine,” Parker begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to stay in this compromising position for longer than he needed to, “But how am I going to wash your entire body if it’s submerged?”

“We’ll get to it when we get there,” Jessica replied, lifting her arms out of the water, “For now, get my arms.”

Parker obliged, tenderly grabbing her arms with one hand and rubbing the slippery bar of soap across the smooth skin. Even before he finished with the first arm, an idea popped into Jessica’s mind. Just as he was finishing with her right arm, she crossed her legs, causing her pussy to clamp down on Parker’s dick hard.

“Fuck,” he swore, accidentally dropping the soap into bathtub, wincing as the hot walls enveloping his cock, slick with her juices, closed in on his shaft.

“What’s the matter?” Jessica asked innocently, turning her head again to look at Parker.

“Stop doing that,” he told her through gritted teeth.

“Doing what?” she asked innocently, clenching her lower muscles and squeezing his dick again with her pussy.

Parker groaned, flinching as another shot of pleasure ran through his crotch and up his body. “That,” he said, scanning the bathtub for the soap that escaped his hands. “Can you get that for me?”

Jessica followed Parker’s gaze and saw the bar of soap sitting on the bathtub’s floor, a short distance away from her leg. “Sure,” she replied, a smirk playing at her lips as she very purposefully bent over, pushing her ample ass against his groin.

“W-Wait—fuck, never mind,” Parker grimaced, reprimanding himself for not knowing better and realizing that would happen. “I’ll get it, you just sit tight.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted it; taking his words perhaps too literally, Jessica stayed in her semi-bent over state, pressing her lips together while clenching her lower muscles, squeezing Parker’s dick even harder. “Engh,” Parker shuddered, gritting his teeth, a noise escaping his lips as another wave of pleasure surged up his body. He stopped, his breathing growing ragged, fighting a losing battle against the welling lust and pleasurable tension building up in his lower regions.

“Mmm~” An enchanting melody erupted from Jessica’s lips, Parker’s dick being pushed further inside her as he reached for the slippery rectangle. “Fuuck…” this time, a breathy whisper, a floating song in the wind carrying with it Jessica’s lust and arousal.

Parker tried his best to ignore it, pulling the bar of soap out of the water and transferring it to his left hand. “St-Stay still,” Parker told the impatient Jessica, who was desperately grinding against Parker’s groin, reveling in the resulting friction between their skin and the feeling of Parker’s dick swelling inside her yet still.

“You’re getting bigger,” she noted cheekily, a smirk appearing on her lips but her eyes remaining closed. “Your hot dick is filling me up so much, oh my god, my small, tight cunt is still getting stretched,” Jessica’s more-than-ample chest now noticeably heaving with each ragged breath. “Fuck, pound me harder,” she insisted, her movements growing more erratic with each passing moment.

“Let me—”

“Parker.” Jessica’s voice turned stern, all movement suddenly ceasing, her head turning around to capture his eyes. “That’s an order.”

“I’m almost done with your arms—”

“Remember, you’re supposed to be cleaning me? You’re never going to clean my pussy at this rate.”

“But aren’t you still recovering?”

Jessica grinned. “That’s what makes it fun though,” she said, turning her head around, “You don’t want Hunter to find out about what we did yesterday, do you?”

Parker’s face paled at the thought of it, and realizing he had no choice, secured the light woman’s thin waist and retreated from her womanhood before filling it back up to the brim. “You can do better than that,” Jessica egged him on, cooperating with Parker in washing her other arm. Complying, he gripped Jessica’s waist a bit more tightly, gritting his teeth and retreated from her pussy as much as he could while in his sitting position before thrusting back inside her. “More~” she begged, her voice dripping with lust.

“You’re too tight,” Parker complained, struggling to move much inside Jessica both for the reasons that he was sitting down and didn’t have much space to move on top of how much Jessica tightened her pussy around his thick member.

“Aren’t you going to finish washing my arm?” Jessica teased him.

“You—You’re the one who told me to—” Jessica giggled at Parker’s exasperated reaction.

“Do your best~” she replied in a playful, sing-song voice, resting her head against his well-developed pecs.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath, his teeth being ground to dust with every thrust inside the mischievous woman. The struggling man tried to divide his attention to scrubbing Jessica’s other arm but found that it difficult: he needed almost every ounce of strength he had just to continue to push past Jessica’s vaginal walls that were passionately hugging his dick in a tight embrace. The result of this was that he had very little strength and attention left to spare, that on top of the distracting ecstatic feeling of pleasure rolling up his body as he felt her warm, wet walls massaging his dick leaving her other arm barely washed. The end result was a half-hearted application of soap on her other arm and an equally half-hearted rinse, all the while being assaulted both with the guilt-ridden feeling of lust and pleasure along with Jessica’s constant encouragement for him to be rougher. “How am I going to wash the rest of your body?” Parker asked, grimacing a bit from the slight pain from his butt due to the almost bouncing motion he was doing on the hard acrylic surface of the bathtub.

Jessica motioned for him to stop, Parker more than willing to oblige. “Good point,” she said, tilting her planting a chaste kiss on his jaw. This caused Parker to flinch, Jessica once again giggling at Parker’s over-the-top reaction. “You’re so fun to tease,” she commented, a luminescent smile spreading across her face.

Parker, wanting to say many things but finding himself unable due to the predicament Jessica placed him under, simply sighed. “I still can’t believe that we’re—that you’re doing this.”

“It’s so exciting though, isn’t it?” Jessica grinned, shaking her ass playfully, her pussy still stuffed to the brim with Parker’s cock.

Parker bit back a surprised yelp, his fists clenching in an attempt to fight against the nth wave of pleasure coursing through him. “You have a really messed up definition of ‘exciting’.”

Jessica just laughed and unmounted him, much to Parker’s relief. However, upon hearing him sigh that deeply in relief, while moving towards the edge of the bathtub in a semi-standing position, she looked over at him in a bemused confusion. “What are you doing?” she asked, bending over in a standing position, proudly displaying her wide hips and delectable butt to him. She grabbed the sides of the bathtub, her boobs nearly brushing the surface of the warm water. “Did you think we were done already? Come here,” she urged, her head turned around, shaking her ass invitingly.

“What?”

“You only washed my arms,” she explained.

“OK, so I’m just going to pretend that you only want me to—”

“Hurry,” she insisted, a cute pout forming on her lips, “My pussy feels so lonely without your hot, thick cock filling it up.”

“I—…” Jessica cocked an eyebrow, the only warning Parker needed before sighing deeply, swallowing the guilt building up inside him, and approaching the wet, naked, bent-over woman. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath while placing his hands on Jessica’s hips. The married woman hummed happily, another moan erupting from her lips as Parker pushed his dick back inside her.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, her grip of the edge of the bathtub tightening. A similar, but much more muted moan came out of Parker as well as he watched his more and more of his erect shaft disappear between the two beautiful mounds of flesh on Jessica’s bottom, parting her glistening folds, the hot walls of her tight pussy clamping around his dick, pulling on it as if inviting it to go deeper. “Fuck your cock does such a good job of stretching my pussy, go deeper,” she instructed him, Parker obeying and briefly allowing himself to get caught up in his lust, his dick filling the Korean beauty’s vagina to its hilt. “R-Remember to wash the rest of my upper body,” she reminded him, Parker snapping out of the brief trance he was in watching Jessica’s ass jiggle at the force of his thrusts. Before he diverted his attention, he noticed a distinct nearly hand-shaped red mark on Jessica’s otherwise perfectly white bottom. A wave of guilt struck him, knowing that the mark was because of him the day prior.

As Parker reached for the bar of soap he had placed on the side while changing positions, he started picking up his speed again, the room starting to fill with the sound of the slap of his groin on Jessica’s simultaneously soft yet firm ass, the married woman’s moans, and the sloshing sound of the water in the bathtub escaping the confines of the large container. Parker noticed that the floor around the bathtub was getting wet from their erratic movements, but cleaning it up was only in the back of his mind, in the forefront being the struggle to keep up with Jessica’s requests for increasing roughness.

“Fuck you’re cleaning my pussy so well~” Jessica moaned, her matching thrusts causing an almost echoing slapping sound with each connection of their bodies. Parker felt the tension in his lower regions tighten, his lower region getting splashed with all sorts of liquid: whether it was Jessica’s juices or the bath water, he was unsure.

“I—fuck, I can’t—” Parker, struggling with steadying the bar of soap with Jessica’s shaking body, stopped his movements. As soon as this happened, Jessica looked back, shooting Parker a glare. Meeting her cold, threatening gaze, a chill ran up his spine, and for the first time, Parker’s motivation to fuck Jessica changed from fear of destroying his best friend’s marriage to a fear of Jessica herself.

With renewed vigor, Parker retreated his penis from the warm, tight embrace of Jessica’s wet pussy before quickly slamming it back into her. Jessica’s breathing grew heavier, her moans released from her lips with shaky breath, her muscles tightening in conjunction to her walls around his shaft. Parker resorted to steadying the bar of soap on Jessica’s back and letting their movements do all the work, the end result being the center of her back getting much more attention than any other part. But just as Parker decided to move to her front, Jessica proposed something.

“Submerge me.”

Parker, slowing down per Jessica’s request, confused, asked, “What?”

“Force my head underwater,” she repeated, “I’ll tap on the bathtub’s edge when I need air.”

“No!” is what Parker wanted to say, but frankly, he was too scared to voice his opposition to the idea. So instead, he cautiously said, “Are you sure? The water’s still hot.”

She nodded eagerly, her eyes shining with excitement. “It’ll be fine,” she said, backing up a little to make space for her head, “Make sure to grab a nice handful of my hair, and be rough. Got it?”

“I—…” Parker tried to argue, stopping after realizing his words would just fall on deaf ears, “yeah,” he eventually agreed to Jessica’s crazy proposition, making sure to put the bar of soap down in an easily reachable position next to him.

Jessica squealed in childish excitement, turning back around as Parker reached forward to carefully grab a fistful of her silky soft hair. “Go ahead,” she told him.

Parker hesitated for a brief second out of fear: fear that he would end up harming Jessica, fear that he wouldn’t catch Jessica’s signal that she needed air. Jessica’s head turned back around, and upon seeing the hesitation and fear in Parker’s eyes, she said, “It’ll be OK, I trust you.”

Despite everything, that what Jessica was doing to him could technically constitute as rape and that she was forcing him to do something against his will, this put him at ease. When Jessica turned her head back around, Parker secured his hold on the handful of her hair in his fist and pushed her head underwater.

The effects were almost immediate. Parker continued to pound Jessica from behind, but it noticeably got tighter the longer Jessica’s head was held underwater. As the seconds ticked by though, Parker grew increasingly worried.

After around ten seconds, Parker’s grip on Jessica’s hair loosened despite not having been given any signs by Jessica yet. Jessica’s eager responses to his pistoning of his cock inside her pussy only strengthened in intensity as her head remained underwater, but even so, Parker couldn’t help but feel a building sense of concern. But, Parker decided to trust Jessica’s judgement and continued pulling his cock out of her vagina only to slam back inside again. The bathroom was strangely silent with the absence of Jessica’s moans, Parker feeling a bit more at liberty to let out his own moans and grunts of pleasure knowing Jessica wasn’t likely to hear them. Still, where the scene lacked in the auditory component, the visual made up for it: seeing Jessica’s head, the sight slightly warbled due to the waves in the bathwater caused by their synchronized motions, held underwater by his own hand was … extremely erotic. Sexy, even. Knowing that Jessica was fighting against both her building orgasm and her lungs’ capacity to hold air gave Parker a feeling of guilty pleasure, the thought of which making Parker wonder in fear if he was secretly a sadist.

After twenty seconds, Parker’s feeling of concern started to morph into fear and regret. Jessica showed no signs of wanting to come up for air any time soon, and she was still matching his every thrust with her own. There didn’t seem to be any signs of discomfort, yet Parker started to become scared: what if Jessica was doing this for the first time and didn’t know her own limits? He knew that she took singing lessons in the past and was pretty good at it, so her lung capacity was probably pretty good—but wasn’t that a long time ago? What if she was in discomfort but didn’t want to admit it to Parker? After all, it wasn’t like he could see her face and tell.

After thirty seconds, Parker’s fear got the better of him and he pulled Jessica’s head out of the water. Seeing the resulting glare from Jessica made him instantly regret it; however, it only lasted a second as the look instantly mellowed out. “Aw, were you scared that you were causing me discomfort? Even though I’m the one forcing you to do this?”

There was some part of Parker—maybe it was ego, or maybe it was shame—that didn’t want to admit to Jessica’s teasing inquiry. Instead, he cocked his eyebrow, saying, “No, I just wanted to tell you that I can’t wash you if we’re doing this.”

“Sure you can,” she responded cheerfully. Parker, confused, remained silent, Jessica continuing on with, “Right now, we’re working on washing my pussy with your cum!”

Completely baffled at the cheerful way Jessica managed to say those words, Parker simply gave a brief warning, “You’re going back in,” giving her a second to prepare herself, and then summarily pushing her head back into the warm bathwater.

Parker could tell that his cold, forceful action was something Jessica loved, feeling her pussy somehow tighten even more around his shaft, feeling like it was trying to squeeze the life out of him. He grunted with every thrust, Jessica eagerly matching with a rekindled enthusiasm. This time, Parker didn’t even bother counting the seconds in his head, instead focusing solely on pumping his dick in and out of the small, sexy seductress.

This time, it took just over a minute before Jessica tapped the edge of the bathtub, signaling to be pulled out. Parker did just that, her taking in a huge breath as she came up for air, messily flipping her wet hair out of her face and spraying him with water in the process. “Oh,” she giggled, noticing Parker flinching in reaction to the accidentally spraying, “Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” Parker responded.

“That was fucking hot,” she commented, “both the water and feeling your cock violate my pussy while my lungs begged for oxygen.” Parker could feel himself getting a bit more aroused at her dirty talk, the tension in his nether regions tightening. “Ready to go again?”

Parker simply nodded, Jessica taking a second to ready herself before getting pushed back underwater again. He relentlessly attacked her pussy, Jessica arching her back in pleasure, a greater amount of surface area of her bubble butt slamming into his groin with each thrust. This time, Jessica took a few seconds longer before tapping out, Parker pulling her head up in response. “Fuck that’s amazing,” she breathed out, her chest heaving even more. “Do you like it?”

Parker, startled, dumbly responded with, “What?”

Jessica smiled, amused. “Do you think it’s hot? Holding my head underwater while pounding me from behind.”

“I’m—” Unsure of how to respond, Parker stammered a bit before settling on, “I’m not going to respond to that.”

“So, in other words, you did find it hot.”

“I didn’t—” Jessica giggled, Parker just sighing in response. That was something else that was happening quite a bit recently: him sighing.

“Again,” she told him, turning back around to face the water again. Parker begrudgingly obeyed, letting Jessica take in a deep breath before pushing her head underwater once again. As the nearly two minutes passed, Parker could feel himself getting painstakingly close to his release, given reprieve when Jessica tapped out. “Why don’t you ever say anything?” was Jessica’s first question after catching her breath.

“What?”

“You know,” Jessica continued, “Tell me how good my pussy feels, scold me for being such a slut, calling me a cheating whore, or that I’m a bitch in heat that only lives to receive your cum.” Feeling Parker’s dick react strongly to those words, Jessica giggled. “So you do want to say all those things? But why not? You’re afraid you’ll hurt my feelings?”

“You’re—you’re Hunter’s wife, of—of course I can’t say those things t-to you.” It became increasingly hard to speak, Parker desperately fighting off his orgasm. The feeling of Jessica’s tight, hot cunt massaging his shaft as he pumped it inside her, her supple ass cheeks creating a resonating slapping sound every time their lower bodies met, feeling all those sensations certainly didn’t help, but hearing Jessica’s filthy words only worsened the situation.

“I want you to though,” she said, pushing him back. Parker’s dick was granted momentary relief from the prison of Jessica’s pussy, Jessica motioning for him to sit back down on the bathtub. He obeyed, gulping as Jessica approached him and lowered herself, facing him this time, grabbing his dick before plunging it back inside her. “Fuck~” she moaned, loudly, her back arching as Parker’s dick filled her all the way to her cervix. “Call me a dirty slut, a filthy whore, a cheating bitch, then fill me up with your cum and leave me a convulsing, orgasming mess.”

With almost every other syllable, Jessica bounced on Parker’s cock, her boobs shaking fiercely with each motion. “I—I can’t,” Parker insisted, gritting his teeth, feeling himself brimming the edge of his orgasm.

“Do it,” she insisted, Parker at this point realizing it wasn’t a request but an order.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, reaching down and firmly grabbing her hips, matching her thrusts with his own. “Fine, you filthy fucking slut, you want to take my cum so badly?”

Jessica’s eyes shone with excitement, her pussy clenching his dick even harder in response to his dirty talk. “Yes~!” she moaned, her bouncing growing more intense.

“You want me to wash your pussy out with my cum?”

“Yes~!” was again her enthusiastic response.

“Then take it like the adulterous bitch you are,” Parker growled, the tension in his lower regions finally unraveling as he exploded inside her, erratically humping her as Jessica screamed in ecstasy herself, the mixture of their fluids combining inside her love chamber. He rode the wave of ecstasy all the way out, desperately trying to match Jessica’s erratic thrusts as the tension slowly died out. By the time Jessica’s orgasm subsided, Parker was already spent.

“Fuck, that was sexy,” Jessica whispered after leaning her head on his shoulder, his cock still buried inside her pussy, her voluptuous bust pressed against his chest.

“Let’s—let’s get out now,” Parker insisted.

She shook her head. “Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Well, it isn’t considered a proper cleaning if you only apply soap to an area, right? You have to spread it out,” she told him cheekily.

“Wha—” knowing he didn’t have a say in the matter, he reluctantly obeyed Jessica’s implied directions, pumping his dick a few more times inside her—albeit with less gusto. This seemed to please Jessica nonetheless, hearing light moans from the married woman. After about half a minute, Parker stopped. “There, that’s enough, right? We can’t stay in here forever.”

Jessica pouted but agreed, unmounting him and getting out of the bath. Parker followed, and upon seeing Jessica walking to retrieve her towel from the towel rack, said, “Hey!”

Jessica turned around. “What? Do you miss my pussy already?”

He decided to not dignify that question with a response. “You can walk on your own!”

Jessica’s first reaction was confusion, morphing shortly afterwards into one of understanding. “Ah, sorry, I lied a bit,” she smiled apologetically. “It was true that when I first woke up, I couldn’t move, but after you arrived, the soreness had mostly disappeared.”

“OK, well since you don’t need my help anymore, I’m—”

Jessica caught his hand before he could get the other towel from the towel rack. “Help me pick out my outfit for the day. I have an outing with friends in the afternoon.”

“You can do that yourself,” Parker told her, reaching for the towel and joining Jessica in drying himself off, “You have a better sense of fashion than me anyway.”

“That’s not the pooint,” Jessica whined, pouting, “Just come with me, OK?”

“Wai—” Jessica grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the bathroom before he could even put the towel back in its place, much less put on any clothes. The pair walked out of the bathroom, taking a few steps in the residence in the nude before entering the closet. Once inside, Jessica turned the light on and closed the door behind Parker.

“OK, let’s see…”

“Do I really have to be here?”

Parker grimaced when he felt Jessica pulled him forward, stumbling a few steps, causing his semi-erect dick to prod the soft tissue on Jessica’s ass. “Yep!” she said, the smirk on her face somehow evident in her voice as well. “Seems like you’re ready for round two?”

“Just pick your outfit,” Parker told her while taking a few steps back, Jessica simply giggling in response.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” she said, scooting back and bending over slightly, very purposefully pressing her butt against Parker’s stiff member, “I need some inspiration, I think.”

“How—what am I supposed to do about that?” Parker replied, trying to mask the wave of euphoria rushing up his spine in response to feeling the soft, taut skin pressing against his sensitive reproductive organ.

“Get in,” she demanded, playfully shaking her ass against my groin, “Your little—or rather, your quite large—friend seems raring to go~”

Having already slipped between her butt cheeks from the playful shaking she was doing, it didn’t take much more effort to push the elongated object past her wet folds and back into her damp cavern. Jessica hummed in joy, pushing herself all the way onto his dick, stopping after feeling her ass pressed against his body. “Mm~” she hummed again, grinding her ass on Parker’s groin, “I can feel the inspiration coming to me, but I think I’ll need a bit more inspiration,” she slyly said, turning her head around to look at Parker, smiling seductively.

Parker, regrettably understanding what she meant by it, started moving inside her. Lust and arousal started to build up inside him again as he felt Jessica’s tight walls clamped around his dick, the muscle slick with both of their cum convulsing and massaging his length as it glided back and forth inside her. “You’re too gentle,” Jessica whined, adding her own movements in conjunction with Parker’s, “Where’s that dirty mouth of yours? I know you have it in you,” she cooed, squeezing her lower muscles and consequently causing her pussy to squeeze Parker’s cock.

Parker let out a muted groan, yet another wave of pleasure coursing through his body. “That has nothing to do with choosing an outfit,” he insisted, but as expected, his protest fell on deaf ears.

“Aren’t I such a filthy slut, asking to be filled with the cum of a man not my husband three times in less than 24 hours?” Her words were dripping with lust, said in such a seductive voice Parker couldn’t help but feel a bit turned on by it, much to his shame. “I’m such a naughty girl for fucking my husband’s best friend, aren’t I? For loving the feeling of his cock stuffing my pussy to the brim? Shouldn’t you punish this naughty wife for cheating on her loving husband?”

Parker, being reminded of their situation, increased his speed. The faster they finished, the faster he could just go home and forget about this whole ordeal, Parker reasoned. All he had to do was wait for Hunter to get back from his business trip and everything would return to normal. “If you want to be punished so much, then ask Hunter to do it,” he grunted, struggling as he felt Jessica’s pussy tighten yet again.

“But it’s so much more fun to ask you~” she sung, her back arching and her eyes fluttering shut, her lips parted, heavy breaths escaping from her delectable lips. “But do you really want me to ask Hunter to punish me for cheating on him?”

Jessica’s sly smirk directed at Parker frustrated him, causing him to tighten his grip on Jessica’s hips and increase his speed yet again. “If you want to cum so badly, just do it already,” he said, bits of his irritation seeping into his voice, “Are you even looking for something to wear?”

“Yeah, but I need you to lift me up.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m thinking of wearing something I haven’t in a long time, and those are all on the top shelves,” she explained, her voice shaking with the force behind each of Parker’s thrusts, yet not stuttering once.

“Isn’t that what that step stool is for?” Parker nodded at the grey step stool tucked underneath a cascade of dresses hung up along one wall of the walk-in closet.

“What step stool?” Jessica innocently asked, Parker realizing that Jessica was being insistent on this.

“Fine, but make it quick,” Parker told her.

Jessica, removing herself from Parker, looked back at him in shock. “Are you calling me fat?”

“What? No! I just mean—” he promptly stopped after seeing Jessica giggle at his flustered reaction. Indignant, he shot back by saying, “—so what if I am?”

“Then you better hope your arms last longer than me~” she said, Parker kneeling down in preparation to pick her up.

However, hearing those words confused him. “What? Last longer than you? What do you mean?”

Jessica also stopped, looking back at Parker with a flabbergasted reaction. “What else?” But seeing Parker’s sincerely confused reaction caused her first sigh, then chuckle a bit. “You’re so innocent, this is so fun~”

“What do you mean by lasting longer than you?” He repeated.

“Well, naturally, your cock is going to be buried inside me while you’re lifting me,” she explained like it was common sense.

“Wha—how—” Parker stammered, unable to find words to say to the smug looking Jessica, “It’s hardly lifting you up if I’m doing that,” he ended up settling on.

“It’s fine, I just want a new perspective.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Hurry,” Jessica bent over, motioning for him to enter her. Seeing his confused reaction, she explained, “You need to enter me first, then pick me up. Otherwise, how are you going to do that when both your arms are occupied?”

Understanding, Parker realized the true difference between them: he wasn’t inexperienced with sex by any means, but Parker liked more vanilla stuff than what Jessica evidently seemed to like. However, seeing Jessica’s experience shine through gave him a new perspective of the kind of person he thought he already had a pretty good grasp on due to last night’s affair. What else did she have up her sleeve? Parker hoped he would never have to find out.

He swiftly entered her again, taking a second to acclimate to her warm cavern before wrapping his sturdy arms securely underneath her upper thigh and lifting her up. Jessica squealed in delight as her feet came off the ground, the sudden loss of control exciting her and simultaneously turning her on even further. The results of this were immediate to Parker as well, feeling Jessica’s walls squeeze his dick even harder as he adjusted his grip on the light woman. “Get looking,” he told her, voice strained from both Jessica’s vagina squeezing his dick as well as her albeit lighter-than-expected body on his arms.

“I will once you start fucking me,” she said stubbornly.

Wanting to get it over with, Parker lifted her up while bending away from her briefly before letting her drop as he thrusted upwards. “Ooh fuck,” she moaned loudly, Parker feeling her leg muscles tense, her head thrown back on his shoulder as Parker’s cock pushed deep into the lustful woman. As Parker acclimated to their strange position, he increased his speed, drawing even more lustful moans from the sexy woman. “Fuuck, my cunt is just being toyed with, I’m being treated like the slut I am,” a stream of words came out of Jessica’s mouth, but this time, instead of being ashamed that he found himself turned on by the sexy woman’s dirty talk, he used it as additional fuel to his fire. “Parker’s cock is slamming into my vulnerable pussy and there’s nothing I can do about it,” Parker could feel her walls tighten around him at a greater rate than before; fortunately, he had gravity on his side, but unfortunately, he could feel fatigue starting to settle in his arms. He could hear himself starting to grunt, pushing past the fatigue, words flowing out of Jessica’s mouth like water down a creek, “God, Parker is pounding me so hard I can almost feel his dick hitting my cervix, but I’m such a fucking slut for enjoying this so much~”

“Keep looking for your outfit,” Parker had to almost growl, his voice heavily strained with the downward force of Jessica’s body weighing him down.

“Or what?” she responded cheekily, a playful smirk appearing on her lips but refusing to open her eyes. “Are you going to punish this naughty girl for not listening to you?”

Parker didn’t respond, mostly because he found himself unable: the struggle to not only keep Jessica above waist level but to lift her again and again became an increasingly difficult task, the adrenaline from feeling her pussy convulse and massage his cock only aiding slightly. “I—I need a break,” Parker finally admitted in a strained voice, “Sorry…”

Jessica just laughed off the ashamed tone in Parker’s voice. “What are you apologizing for? Let me down,” she said, Parker doing just that. While waiting for Parker’s fatigue to wear off, she browsed her closet, actually doing what she entered the enclosed space for and looked for an outfit: it took a bit over a minute for Parker to recover, but Jessica didn’t let him rest much longer than two. “This time, I’ll help you out a little,” she offered, “I’ll face you so I can use my legs to keep myself up.”

Parker nodded, eager to just be done, this time taking much less time in steadying her in his arms before resuming his pounding of her tight cunt. Jessica’s legs, wrapped around his waist, tensed, her soft tits pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his neck, her head rested on his shoulder, directly feeding her beautifully melodic moans into his ears. “Parker~” Jessica’s moans echoed about the small, enclosed space, only turning him on more.

He could feel himself nearing his orgasm, the delectable feeling of Jessica’s sexy tits and swollen nipples pushed flush against his body, her vaginal walls pushing and pulling to the rhythm of his thrusts, even the tender feeling of her soft skin in his arms all aiding to that sensation. “I’m close,” he warned her, “Get off.”

“No,” she replied, “You don’t wanna leave any of your cum anywhere in this closet, do you?” Parker’s face paled when he realized that Jessica’s words held merit. “You have no other option than to cum inside me~”

“Fine, fuck,” he muttered, the tension suddenly breaking when Jessica leaned forward and nibbled lightly on his ear. As the tension unraveled, a second, albeit weaker, torrent of his seed spilled into the tantalizing temptress.

“Ooh fuck,” Jessica gasped in pleasure as she felt the hot liquid pouring into her, “It’s so hot, fuck…” her breathy moans floated directly into Parker’s ear whilst still riding out his orgasm, pumping the Korean woman full with his semen. After it subsided, fatigue hit him like a brick wall, but he persisted through. “Impressive, you’re still going so hard despite having just came,” she noted, teasing him but herself feeling near the edge. Parker’s breaths started coming out more roughly than ever before, and it wasn’t even due to the building soreness in his arms; he fought against the fatigue with all his might, determined to finally be done and go home. His efforts paid off, Jessica’s building orgasm just about reaching a breaking point. “I’m so fucking close, oh god,” she breathed, her chest heaving even more and her lower region tightening.

“Cum already then, goddamn it,” Parker growled, the words slipping out without a second thought, his frustrations exposed by how delirious the fatigue started to make him feel.

The aggressive assertion was the tipping point, Jessica letting out an ecstatic yelp as her entire body shook in Parker’s arms, her back arching and her erect nipples drawing random patterns on his chest, her legs that were wrapped around his waist tensing and squeezing the lean man’s body, her hands tightly grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she continued bouncing on Parker’s cock, riding out her orgasm. Nearly a minute later, when her orgasm finally subsided, Parker let Jessica down.

“Found your outfit?” he asked, his own chest heaving while his body attempted to reoxygenate his sore muscles.

“Yep!” she claimed, reaching up and pulling out a quaint yellow dress with an uneven bar of white running along the bottom. “Thanks for helping Parker!”

Thankfully, despite seeing that his erection had yet to subside, Jessica let him go back home. Despite still only being morning, he collapsed onto his bed. Surely, after Hunter came back from his business trip, Jessica would stop with all this nonsense. Right?

Next chapter here.

#jessica jung #smut #snsd #soshi #snsd smut #kpop smut #Soiling Mr. Innocent #blackmail #breathplay #bathtub sex

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slowlydifferentbluebird · 4 months ago

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Dreams come true - Aespa High School AU - Day three

Hello people, part three is finally out! I know this time it needed more time to come out, but I'm starting to bring more variety on the blog. Talking about this third day things are not going so smoothly anymore for our main character, time to introduce some angst in the story🤭 Also, this time I'm using a Winter Pic because I feel she plays a big role in today story, but don't worry, all the girls have their space to "shine"

"Are you still awake, loser?", the message from Minjeong read like this, making your face scrunch in confusion. It was midnight, why did she text you at that hour? "Yup, what are you up to?", you replied, laying on the bed of your room in the darkness, illuminated just by the light of the moon, coming through the window. "Wanna skip the first lesson tomorrow?", her question left you speechless for a moment. Like, she sure was a bit naughty, but this was such a bold move from someone you exchanged the phone numbers with just few hours before. "Why?", you countered with another question, trying to obtain more informations and get more time to think about it. "Because I want to bring you to a place", she explained, making your confusion even bigger. "Don't worry, we won't get in trouble, loser", she added quickly, teasing and reassuring you at the same time. You rolled your eyes, annoyed yet amused by her push and pull. "Fuck it, let's do it!", you thought, before accepting her proposal and agreeing on the plans for the tomorrow. She wished you goodnight, leaving you alone again with your thoughts, now even more agitated, before eventually falling asleep, relieving in your dreams all the events of that second day.

At 8am, the next morning, you were leaning against the wall of the back of the school. Luckily you were able to elude Mark that day: he was extra late again so you just went school alone. You were also lucky enough to not meet none of your classmates or teachers while reaching the place. You looked at your watch again: 8.05am. Where the hell was her? If this was a prank or similar... "Waiting for someone, stranger?", the soft yet active voice of Winter reached your ears, making all your doubts disappears. "Here you are, girl, you took you time. I was starting to think you played me", you admitted, being unable to show a relieved smile. "Aww, were you that eager to see me again? I'm glad, but your girlfriend is gonna be jealous about that", the bob-haired girl teased you, caressing your arm. "Are you gonna keep to tease me and Aeri forever?", you asked, sighing and shaking your head. "Just when you or her shows me proofs of the contrary", she shrugged, smiling like a satisfied fool. "Yeah sure...however why did you picked this place as meeting point and where are you bringing me?", you inquired her, looking around, almosto check the surroundings. "How many questions, I don't remember you being this curious during lessons", she smirked and you had really the strong temptation to curse at her neverending teasing. "Just follow me and you will discover, loser", she invited you, starting to walk, getting at every step more far from the school building.

"Come, we're so close right now", Minjeong whispered. Her action make you puzzled, you walked a lot and you were pretty sure about being out of the school territory, so why was she so worried? Was is it a dangerous zone? "Alright, we're basically arrived, now do like me: squat and walk slowly, no sudden movements", she explained, keeping to whisper. Once again you followed her instructions, but all that mystery left you an uneasy feeling in the chest. The area was clearly abandoned and unkempt. The anxiety was starting to have the best on you when..."Meow!", an easily recognizable sound got your attention, making your head snap in Winter direction. "Hi babies, I'm back", Minjeong announced in a kind tone. You carefully moved next to her just to discover a whole bunch of baby kitties, meowing and looking at you two. "Are they...the reason for your request?", you asked, impressed by this side of her. "Of course, what did you expect? A date? Well...for that maybe in the future", she said with nonchalance, while opening her satchel and pulling out some milk and a couple of bowls. Without the need of saying anything more, even because her smooth answer just messed up your brain, you helped her organizing the bowls and getting sure every kitty had its meal. "How did you know about them?", you demanded, while letting one of the babies play with your fingers. "Yesterday, after school, I heard a cry and I found one of them, so I just followed him till here: they are very friendly but sadly their mother is not with them", she revealed, pouting sadly, showing you for the first time a more sensitive side. "But why me? You could have asked to any of the girls and yet you picked me", your question was sudden, lefting Winter speechless this time. You were right: she didn't even think about it till that moment. However she found the response quickly enough, she just needed a look of how much fun you were having playing with the kitties, you were so lovely and happy. "I already told you: you are different from the others...in a very positive way", her answer made your gazes met. You had not noticed before how cute she was and how much her eyes were the perfect match for her smile; at the same time Winter thought it was a lot of time she didn't feel so in tune with someone else, especially a person she had meet so recently. "Ehm...and then I can always blackmail you about the rooftop", she added at last second, as if she was trying to hide again behind her mischievous nature.

When both of you finally got in class, everyone eyes was directed to you. It was not like they were trying to make a story, but the the way you and Winter just came in laughing and teasing each other left few space to the fantasy. You coughed in embarassment and even the usual bold Winter immediately adjusted her behaviour, returning to act cold. You silently went your desk, avoding the gazes of your friends: Karina was staring blankly in your direction, Mark seemed confused af, Ning had an annoyed smirk on her face, and Giselle...you could feel her eyes burning into the back of your head and you had no the gut to turn back. Your emergency plan was to stay quiet and act like you were not there until the rest of the day. But, of course, you couldn't seriously hope about getting away with that. You barely managed to survive the next lesson just because miss Sunny arrived earlier than usual, but you were not lucky enough to go through the lunch break unscathed.

You saw Minjeong flee away the moment the bell rang, immediately followed by Karina, that seemed intentioned to tackle her or something. You didn't have time to worry about her tho. "So...what did I miss?", Mark asked, sitting on your desk, trying to convince you to spill the tea. "Not much", you vaguely answered, putting your things in the backpack in a hurry. "Why so eager to get away? Are you that hungry? Or do you just want to meet up with Winter again?", Ning, from the chair next to you inquired, going straight to the point; her body language was very accusatory, she tiny but she was leaning towards you enough to put pressure. "Nothing of all this, I just need a breath of fresh air", you justified, trying to get up, but the moment you moved, a couple of strong hands put you in your place again. "Stay seated", Giselle voice was stern, cold, irritated. "Now you're gonna tell me where the fuck you have been", Giselle ordered through her teeth, grabbing your chin and oblying you to look at her. "Oh my god, why are people making such a fuss for nothing?", you groaned in annoyance; this whole situation was getting ridicolous. Why were you even being questioned for such a silly reason. "For nothing? Are you fucking kidding me?", Gigi shouted angrily at you and that really made you snap. "What's your problem? What do you care if I skip lessons to spend time with Minjeong?", you shouted back, getting up to confront her face to face. "Calling her Minjeong...are you two already that close?", Ning instigated, an hint of bother in her tone; luckily both you and Aeri was too focused on each other to hear her. "Ning, I won't add fuel to this fire...actually guys, why don't we all chill and relax?", Mark tried to bring some peace to the discussion but it was kinda late to that; he was just glad that at that point it was just the four of you in class, everyone else was gone away. "What do I care? Did you already forget that I'm your bestfriend? Of course I got worried if you start skipping lessons since the third day, idiot", Giselle retorted, her eyes were starting to get watery because of the screams and her anger. "It happened just once, drop it...you know what? I'm done", you sighed in frustration, finally moving away from your spot and rushing out of the room, leaving behind you just the sound of someone sobbing.

You were so pissed off at your friends, why did they have to ruin a nice moment like the one of your morning? Did you need to inform them about anything in your life? Did they have the exclusivity on your persona? You were already starting to regret on moving there. You were actually so nervous after that fight that you were not even hungry. You were spiraling in your doubts and angry thoughts when..."Hey...can I join you?", you looked up to meet the kind smile of Karina, her eyes full of concern. You simply nodded, moving a little to leave some space on the bench you were sitting on. "Are you okay?", she softly asked, putting her hand over yours. "Kinda...yeah", you barely replied, conflicted on how to act: you were still angry with the world but it was not Karina fault. "Are you sure? I heard you had a big fight with Giselle", she exposed her worry, caressing the back of your hand with her thumb. It was not the first time she did that, it happened even the first day, it was oddly relaxing and you felt like your heart was being in peace again. "Yeah, it was a rough moment...actually it was the first time we have ever fought in so many years of friendship", you told her, looking at her pretty face with a ladle smile. "You know, sometimes it happens in these cases: human relationships are different online and in real life; probably you two just need to find...the right balance", Jimin suggested, offering you a comforting smile. She was not a genius in relationships and stuff like that, but she saw you in a moment of difficulty and she felt she had to comfort you somehow. "Maybe you're right...but I guess we need to resolve this mess first. What about you and Winter? Is everything alright?", you asked back, checking the situation you glimpsed before, but at that question Karina looked totally lost. "Did you two not fight? I saw you running behind her at the end of the lesson", you explained, pointing out what you have seen. "Ohhh, that! No, we simply ran to the cafeteria because today there was tiramisù on the menu", just at her reference of food, your stomach growled; furthermore you felt like a fool: of course they didn't fight, you were the only one attacked for that event.

After chatting a bit more, you and Karina parted away, she really helped you to calm down. Now you were not mad anymore, just sad, disappointed and very hungry. Despite that you decided to walk around again to clarify your thoughts. You were not feeling really good, but you thought that maybe walking would have helped you feeling better. The truth was that at every step, you felt even worse. With difficulty you went back in the building, trudging on the stairs to reach the floor where your class was. What was wrong with your body? Did the fight really disconcert you that much? "Here you are, hurry up, lessons are abou to star...wait, are you good? You are so pale", Ning walked into you at the corner of the hallway and, even if at the start she was intentioned to act in the usual irritating way, she immediately changed attituted, seeing your conditions. "Yeah...perfectly...fine...", you tried to act tough, but you were out of breath and you were sweating. "No really, is something wrong? Do you need to go to the infirmary?", the worry in her voice was obvious, probably your appearance was realy giving your hard time away; she placed an hand on your chest to stop you in your track, she did it kindly but you it feel like a strong push. "Maybe...just water...", you gave up on your facade, feeling your strenghts vanishing. "Let's go to the vending machine, I'll buy you something and...OH MY GOD!", she grabbed your arm to guide you, but right in that moment the world around you started to spin, you felt the lack of oxygen in your lungs until...everything went black. The last thing you remember was the faint voice of Ning asking for help and a cold surface hitting your cheek.

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666writingcafe · 4 months ago

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New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

#obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #obey me mc #in the morning solomon catches mc giggling multiple times as they listen to all of lucifer's messages in their entirety #also mc finds a way to take lucifer's phone and changes their contact name on there to “little lamb” with a heart emoji next to it #both to tease him and to assure him that they're cool with the nickname

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cafeinthemoon · 6 months ago

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It's a Fire - Chapter I

Chapter 1

Wordcount 3,5k

Title Retired Hashira

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: arranged marriage; age gap; mentions of increasing in criminality and poverty; grieving; non diagnosed depression (the condition wasn't properly understood by the time this story is settled)

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N.A.: So Kimetsu no Yaiba returned and I'm taking the opportunity to finally start posting this story that has been in my list of ideas for several months!

A while ago I made a poll where I included the option of writing a fic with the Rengoku family, and it was this one I was talking about. I know there are other stories I need to work on already, but let me tell you that this very fic just saved me from a creative block, which was caused by what I suspect to be the beginning of a burnout (I'm about to go on vacation and I just can't take it anymore, but I don't want to discuss this rn).

A few words about the ff itself: It's a slow burn, arranged marriage story between reader, who's 27/28 yo, which makes her closer to myself who's a bit older than this, and Shinjuro Rengoku, who's struggling with the same problems we see in canon, but somehow accepts her as his wife: she was the daughter of old acquaintances of his, so the marital contract is sealed to allegedly honor the friendship between the families. However, things are way more complicated in reality.

Of course, because of the things we see in the original media, such as violence, alcoholism and etc., I need to make it clear that my personal opinions on these subjects may diverge from what I'm putting in this story (due to personal family experiences), and each chapter will carry the necessary warnings. Also if you notice similarities with Beauty and the Beast, know that it isn't just a coincidence haha Finally, the title is a song by Portishead, which didn't influence my writing but its lyrics somehow fit this plot 🌹

I hope you have a good time reading this ❤

“You walk a lonely road

Oh, how far you are from home”

(Enya, May it Be)

That fate didn’t care about your preferences and desires, you knew well.

You wished you had your mother with you for long years, and that your relationship grew stronger as you spent your time together, dedicating yourselves to the art of the sword, but most of her time and energy were directed to her work as a member of the Demon Slayer Corps, and it was like this until the day you received a messenger from Ubuyashiki-sama to inform you about her death: she didn’t fall to the Oni, but couldn’t resist the injuries from a battle against a group of them.

You also wished your father, after losing the woman he claimed to love, stood up to his remaining family, that is, himself and you, and took reasonable measures to protect his territory and the people who lived in it, but he preferred to lock himself in his office and ignore the demands outside it, firing half of the house’s servants for the sake of saving money and willing to leave the property to the dust and the insects, not seeing this happening thanks to you, who took the task of maintaining everything by yourself, even doing some of the physical work.

There were, in fact, many other things you wished for, but didn’t have the chance to see them coming true. One of those other things were continuing to live in the house you grew up in, and using your education to dedicate your life to a career of your choice, though your options seemed limited by your sex. But even this was taken from you when, on an ordinary day, you saw your father leaving his office in the company of a man you’ve never seen in your life. You wanted to question him about this strange visit, but you didn’t have to: your father came to your chambers later, and without measuring his tone or giving you time to process such news, explained the meeting’s main subject.

– I’ve recently contacted an old acquaintance of mine, someone who was also known by your mother – he started – And explained our situation here.

You knew what he was talking about: after your mother passed away, your lands’ protection has been neglected, and appearances of demons have been reported more often by your servants and the people who live in the villages near. No one dared leaving their houses at night, and the local economy were deeply affected by this, since part of the basic work used to be done in this period of the day; this led to an increase in poverty and criminality. You, on your part, weren’t immune to these difficulties despite growing up in a privileged family.

Your father addressing this situation to you, however, was something new, and you exposed this impression to him.

– Things are getting harder for everyone here, that’s true – you agreed – But why are you discussing this with me now?

– Because I asked this acquaintance for help, and he answered me – he took slow steps toward your window, half opened by that time; he closed it with firm hands, but without making much noise – The thing is that, at the same time our lands are now dangerous to people, specially to young women like you, it’s time for you to take the next big step in your personal life, daughter. After all, you’re almost twenty-eight.

You frowned.

Next big step? What is he talking about?…

Your father might have noticed your confusion, because he soon clarified his words… and you wished he never did it.

– I’m talking about marriage, y/n – he spat – You declined the last two proposals, and I respect your reasons for that, but this time the circumstances aren’t in our favor. This man who visited me earlier is a messenger from the Rengoku House, and he brought me a positive answer from their head: I offered your hand and a good dowry in exchange for your protection, and in respect to your mother, who worked for the same cause as him, Shinjuro Rengoku accepted you as his wife. You’re leaving the house this week.

You were speechless. You tried to stand up and show a sign of protest, but your legs didn’t obey you; you opened your mouth to say something, but no word left it. You knew your father have been struggling, but you could never suppose he was becoming insane – arranging a marriage for you without your consent? Other men used to do this to their daughters, but the man who married your mother would never… But, apparently, he was no longer this man.

Maybe he was expecting some disagreement, but seeing your silence made him frown.

– Don’t you have anything to say about this?

You finally seemed to wake up. You gave him a dead glare, murmuring your response.

– And what do you expect a woman to say after being sold and sent away from her own house out of nowhere? – you moved your head to the side, irony leaking from the gesture – Thank you?

Your father clenched his jaw.

– I certainly don’t expect your gratitude – his voice was lower now – I know this isn’t the future you wanted for yourself, and I didn’t want things to be like this either, but…

– Why marriage, father? – your tongue was released, interrupting his thread of thoughts like a storm – I could stay temporarily with them, work for them, anything! But marrying someone I’ve never met?! Don’t you remember that I’ve declined the other proposals after at least seeing the faces of those men?

– You’ll meet him on the wedding day, and you’ll have all the time of the world to know anything there is to know about him – his tone was louder again, as his patience was running low – Besides, Shinjuro is an old friend of mine. I give you my word that he’s a decent man, besides being a formidable warrior. He was married to a respectable woman once, and built a good family with her. I trust him, and so did your mother. No problems should be expected from his part, so the same must be expected from you.

Shinjuro. It was only the second time you’ve heard that name from your father’s mouth, and you didn’t know what to think. In fact, you’ve learned from your mother that among the Demon Slayer Corps there was an elite group known as the Hashira, and one of them was Shinjuro, the Hashira of the Flames. He was the current head of the Rengoku family, but personal struggles – including the death of his wife – forced him to a retirement despite his capacity as a warrior, so that his eldest son, Kyojuro, took his place. However, you also heard that this young man was dead, so it was impossible to tell how things were going for his family members now. And that was the environment your father was willing to throw you into, even spending money in the process.

You sighed.

– Father, when was the last time you’ve met this man? I don’t remember you talking about him – you crossed your arms – I’m only familiar with his name thanks to mother, but now you’re telling me that he’s an old friend of yours. How old is he, exactly?

– Not as old as me, of course – his reply came with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation – I can’t believe that, of all the things involved in this arrangement, this is what concerns you more!

You scoffed.

– I’m not that futile, but if he’s old enough to have a son capable of replacing him in the battlefield, I think I have the right to be concerned! – you took a step toward him – If I have no choice, I want to know exactly where I’m getting into. Can’t you even make such a small concession to me, father?

No, he couldn’t, and you soon realized that.

Your father decided the conversation was over. He returned to the room’s door and opened it.

– It is decided, already – and, with a sort of sadness in his eyes – I’m doing what I think it’s best for my daughter. I only wanted her to trust me, at least for once.

You swallowed the lump in your throat.

– I wanted this too, father. But you’re making it too difficult for your daughter.

He stared at you for a moment, then left without any word.

***

Things really happened the way you feared, in the path your father stated they would follow. He said that, but until the end he kept acting like he had no control over the flow of events, in a frail attempt to soothe his own conscience that only served to unnerve you, and not even seeing the disappointment in his daughter’s eyes each time he looked at you was enough for him to leave this pretense aside. Had he no shame anymore?

During that fateful week, you avoided his company, leaving the burden of communication to the remaining servants and only speaking to him when utterly necessary. What was left for you to talk about when, as he said, everything was decided, and when you had nothing but sadness for him — for him, the adversities he’s been through and for the way he chose to behave in face of them? It was useless to argue on this, and whether you liked it or not, you had little time to put everything in order and couldn’t have the luxury of wasting it: would it be worthy to cause a delay in the arrangements under the risk of leaving a bad impression in your future spouse, even when he was someone you’ve never saw before?

You sighed at the thought.

And, as if I hadn’t enough things to worry about, I still have to consider this.

In fact, you didn’t want to take much stuff from that house with you at the same time you didn’t want to cause any difficulties to the servants, who have already seen their load increase the last months, so you were quick to select essential items and packing them with the help of a maid, from your clothes to the gifts brought by your mother, and instruct her about what to do with the other things: some of them you gave to her, knowing that she had a daughter who was younger than you and who’d appreciate your charity, and the others, such as the furniture, should be sent to the villagers, for you wanted your things to be with people who would make good use of them instead of letting them rot in a place to where you’d never come back.

Among all of this, the last object you packed was the only thing you made a point about carrying by yourself, and the only thing you didn’t trust anyone to pack but yourself: the sword of your mother, which was sent to your house by Ubuyashiki-sama and now belonged to you. Your mother has been teaching you lessons since you were a teenager, but she hasn’t lived long enough to see if you were going to develop your own Breath; well, until that day you haven’t, but you’ve never stopped practicing even under your father’s disapproval. You didn’t know what you would find once you stepped into your husband’s house, but you wouldn’t want to depend on his protection on everything; besides, having a wife who knew how to wield a sword must be an advantage, right?

The train of thoughts, feelings and concerns was such that you were robbed from sleep the night before the ceremony. You knew women who had their marriages arranged as well, but you never got to talk to them about it; you had no idea of how you were supposed to feel, or how you were supposed to see the whole thing. How one should feel when they saw themselves trapped in a situation from which they couldn’t get out? Without having answers, you just relied on the feeling that seemed reasonable to you, that is, utter fear.

The next morning came silent and inexorable, just as the ones before it, and you saw yourself leaving your bed and taking care of your duties without putting your thoughts on them. It was only your body working by itself, saving your soul from the burden of being conscious, or perhaps you were just accepting your fate after a night of tears and rage.

Having dismissed the maid’s help, you bathed and dressed alone, and left the house where the most important moments of your life took place without one last look. To be fair, your eyes were so sore and tired that they barely registered the appearance of the weather while you walked to the carriage, but you guessed it was a warm, sunny day, though not enough for you to get sweaty. Your father was already in the carriage’s interior; you took the seat beside him with no signs of acknowledging his presence.

The coachman shook the reins and yelled something to the horse, and the crack of the wooden wheels was heard as the vehicle moved along the road.

***

The ceremony took place in a building in the city of (…), near your father’s property, which served as the head office of a group of law professionals, including the man responsible for your marital contract.

You wouldn’t call it a ceremony, really: it was more of a sequence of bureaucratic procedures than a social event with the purpose of uniting two families; a mere formality to allow you to move to a man’s house without ruining your reputation. It was quick, direct and cold like a financial operation, and the people involved seemed to make sure it looked like this.

Your father led you to a sequence of stairs and then through a narrow corridor, until he stopped in front of a door and opened it, entering the room and inciting you to follow him. You did it, and found out you weren’t the first to arrive: the officiant was already in his position, behind a table upon which you saw an open book; at its right, there was a small inkwell and a feather; around him, two officers which function you couldn’t guess and couldn’t care about. And, finally, in front of the table and observing your arrival with a stern glare, the man who was about to become your husband.

Whatever you were expecting to see, Shinjuro was nothing like you might have imagined, except for the fact that he was younger than you supposed – and, indeed, younger than your father – and stole the attentions among all those men despite the quiet, composed manners. Well, he would do it in any place he’d step in, for his appearance was extravagant, to say the least: on his severe face he carried a pair of orange eyes under two thick, black eyebrows, a wild trait that made you think of a lion; framing his expression and matching his eyes, he had thick, blond hair that decreased to red on its edges, spreading over his shoulders. And, as if his looks weren’t enough to draw the whole room’s attention, he was dressed in sober, dark clothing, more like someone attending a western funeral than a wedding.

As you walked to the center of the room, led by your father, and took the spot beside Shinjuro, you felt your skin burning in discomfort under his merciless eyes. You breathed deep and, when he nodded to acknowledge you two, you made an effort to greet him, as well as the other men.

I knew he wasn’t the same person my father claimed to know. He stated that he was good and trustful, but everything in this man screams danger. What kind of hell I’m getting into…

The officiant announced the beginning of the ceremony, and you turned to him in silence. After a few, composed words to the new couple, he gave you both clear instructions on where to sign your names, and you did as he said, Shinjuro first, then you; you glanced at his hand offering you the feather and took it in a second, taking care your hand didn’t touch his. You tried not to think of your gestures as you wetted its tip on the ink, but a tremble reached your wrist the instant you approached the feather from the paper.

So… That’s it. I write my name in a book and enter a path from where I can’t go back.

The realization was too much to bear and time was passing, so you bit your inner cheek to prevent your mind to entertain the thought and scribbled your name at once. When you moved the feather away and put it back on the inkwell, your hand acted by itself, and your arm gone numb once you recoiled it to your side.

Your mouth was dry, and a hole seemed to have taken the place of your heart. You barely noticed when the officiant and the other witnesses analyzed your signatures and approved them, bringing the ceremony to an end. You refused to believe all of that was real until the man announced you were free to go, and both Shinjuro and you turned away, preparing to leave. He didn’t bat an eye at you while doing so.

The head of the Rengoku family stopped to exchange some words with your father. You were close enough to hear the conversation, but didn’t want to pay attention; you just wanted to leave this place, even though you weren’t going to a familiar one after it.

You only understood their conversation was over when you heard your father’s voice calling your name. You turned to him and your stomach curled in disgust when you saw the pleading smile on his face, the only thing that reminded you of home and now a sign of everything you lost. You’ve never felt so alone.

Later, you’d try to remember his exact words for you at that moment, but you’d find yourself unable to do it. Maybe it was a formal wish of good luck or something. The only thing you remembered was your reaction: you stared at him for a few seconds, then, without a word, you turned your face away, walking toward the door. You knew your husband was observing, but his approval was the least of your preoccupations now.

***

Little was recalled by you from the travel to the Rengoku house, except that it was silent, even calm period. The only abnormality was caused by you: unlike your other belongings, who were sent in another vehicle ahead under the supervision of a servant, you decided you were going to carried your sword with you in the carriage, to everyone’s surprise and your father’s discontentment.

That occasion was also when Shinjuro spoke to you for the first time.

— Why are you doing this?

The question, made when you were already in the carriage, was direct but not devoid of politeness, so you granted him an honest answer.

— This sword once belonged to my mother, and now it is mine. If my father had his way, I’d never carry it with me, but I refuse to leave it behind — and, glancing at him, — I couldn’t risk him checking my things and subtracting it from them without my consent.

Shinjuro only murmured an “I see” in response, and the conversation died there.

You were beside the carriage’s window and might have slept to the warmth of the sun and the constant noise of the wheels in movement, but you weren’t sure if you did. As your body was now avoiding visible reactions, your spirit was suppressing the emotional rush for your own good, since no advantage would come from a breakdown in the middle of the road, right in front of your new spouse who, just like you, didn’t seem all pleased with the whole thing: sure, he didn’t show visible discontentment whether with your appearance or your manners, but you’ve been dealing with middle aged men for too long to sense when they were seeing something they didn’t find appropriate; and, in the present case, it was clear to you that Shinjuro already formed his opinion: to him, you were a stubborn, spoiled brat who didn’t have her way and was decided to make it everyone else’s problem. Yes, the idea of acting like that wandered through your mind for a while, but you thought you were better than this, and opted for a balance between bitterness and decency, not wearing plain clothing and displaying rude manners, but also not being extravagant in anything; still, you couldn’t convince the man of your good nature, and he let it clear with the inquiring about the sword, so now you completely gave up on seeking his favor.

You were just waiting for the travel to end.

Chapter 2

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