#part two is gonna be ~spicy~

[one-winged-dreams]

Fireworks - Part 1

ship: we came alive somehow (adriel wrynn x vincent valentine) source: final fantasy vii (post-DoC) word count: 913

Edge celebrates the 4th anniversary of Meteorfall. Adriel and Vincent are content to celebrate in their own way.

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @edencantstopfallininlove @sosoftandsweet @dorothys-wife

The prior two years of recurring disaster had done little to discourage Midgar's previous residents, and less so regarding their coming together to celebrate the anniversary of Meteorfall. Though last year's impending disaster with Deepground and Omega had coincided within the same timeframe, moreso than the surfacing of the remnants of Sephiroth, it only seemed as though humanity had all the more reason to appreciate the lives they'd managed to cultivate.

Edge had gone all out for the occasion, and though the night was alive with revelry, two particular individuals were less inclined to join in on the celebration.

"Are you and Vincent coming down to the bar, tonight?"

Adriel's eyes remained closed as he remembered Tifa's invitation. Letting out a soft breath through his nose, he took comfort in knowing the dark of his bedroom was not the only thing that held him in its comforting embrace.

"Shelke said she'd come if you two did. C'mon, it'll be fun."

The sounds of music and voices drifted up even as far as his fourth-floor apartment, though he didn't mind. Even though participation wasn't for him, it was comforting to know that Edge felt it had something to celebrate.

"Sorry," he had eventually replied, "We've already got plans."

A benign boom echoed through the city, followed by several more until the symphonic pattern of fireworks made itself recognizable. His lashes fluttered open just enough to peek in the direction of his bedroom window.

"Fireworks, huh?" he murmured softly, the height of his unit and the size of his window perfectly displaying at least a good fraction of the pyrotechnics.

A tender touch ran over his hair before gently tucking it off to the side. "You didn't expect this?" Vincent's tone was equally soft, slumberous, almost.

Adriel hummed softly as he nuzzled his face into Vincent's chest, on which he lay atop, one of his hands slightly bunching up the dumb WRO shirt that Reeve had given him. He only ever wore it at home.

"I did. The traffic coming home was crazy, it only makes sense… For a festival THIS big." Despite the comment, he sounded perfectly at ease, lifting his head to look at Vincent and offer him a relaxed smile.

Vincent offered a 'hm,' reaching up to smooth back Adriel's hair. "Not regretting declining Tifa's offer, are you?"

Chuckling, Adriel shook his head. "Not at all. This is much more preferable."

Vincent just gave an agreeable hum as they watched the display through the window, simply offering themselves to the moment. After everything, every fight that had been fought, every instance where disaster loomed on the horizon, all of it was a distant memory when they were here, together. While the intent of the celebration was that of the survival of the planet, it would be a lie to say that, for some, it wasn't about the continuation of their way of life and the ones they shared it with.

Adriel felt fortunate that one such savior of the planet had chosen to share his own life here, with him. After everything Vincent had experienced, the fight against Shinra, the defeat of Omega… And it was here that he ultimately decided to be. He could only express how happy Vincent made him so much before it became needlessly excessive. Neither of them were the type to recquire much verbal reassurance, all that was necessary was one another's presence. And moments like these.

The thought had Adriel's eyes fluttering shut, his grip on Vincent's shirt tightening just an amount that would vent his peaking emotions. Vincent gave him a gentle squeeze in return, not requiring any sort of elaboration. And for a while, they continued to sit, drinking in the vivacious sounds of life, and love, and celebration.

"… They've been going on for a while," Vincent's amused commentary broke the silence, but in a natural manner that didn't jar either of them from the mood.

Adriel looked on for a second longer before facing Vincent again, smiling a drowsy, content smile. "The fireworks?"

Vincent was still looking past him, possibly puzzling, possibly making a simple observation. "Mh. They must have been putting this together since-" He found himself cut off by the sudden realization that Adriel had moved closer, their faces inches apart. The latter's eyes were half-lidded, though his smile was evidence of his intentions.

Vincent found himself incapable of not reciprocating - neither of them smiled often, but when one did, so too, did the other find themselves infected. Their smiles persisted, even as their faces drew ever closer together, even as they could feel each other's breath against their lips, and even still, as their lips came to meet. The noises of revelry dimmed, and even did the explosive booming of fireworks fade to a quiet white noise in the wake of one, simple kiss.

Though soft and tender, it lasted far longer than something casual and yet far shorter than they would have preferred, even still. They had barely pulled away from it before Vincent found his hand against the back of Adriel's neck. The smile persisted still, but the love in their eyes had increased 10-fold.

"How was that?" Vincent extended a playful quip, as his hand traveled off to the side through Adriel's dark curtains of hair until it cupped his cheek.

Adriel merely responded with a pleased hum as he nuzzled into the motion, his smile widening by the smallest of margins before lowering his eyebrows. "Fireworks~"

[artist-heart83]

Yesterday the 4 am inspiration train get me, so I’m start doing some dialogues for a future marware fic including the hdr trio

And of course, showing one of the dialogue that found funny

Translation: “LMAOO” Bob said as he laughed of the situation, “the dumbass got headless again”

Little context. So Mario and Puzzles got trapped in a box, only with the twist that Puzzles’ head got trapped inside as an accident because he got warned to late

[taegularities]

ahhh ok but i have an idea…. maybe it is the first big client that oc has and shes been very overwhelmed and overworked bc she wants everything to be perfect.

then!! maybe the model for the mock presentation for the client bailed last minute, and babyboy jk just stumbles in all his glory (originally just to pick up oc!!) and get dragged into hair and makeup to do the photoshoot HAHAHAHA

when the client saw the pics they LOVED him bc well look at him. and said that they’ll agree to the concept if HE is the one modelling the clothes.

and we can get 2 smut scenes where 1. oc persuades jk to do the photoshoot 2. and her getting all hot & bothered afTEr it was all done

HAHAHA look at all this background story that doesnt even need to be in a dom jk drabble 🤣

LOL WHAT ARE U DOINGGG, did you get some work done >:( !!! lmao no but it's gonna be a lil similar to that !! i can absolutely see jk being all "uhmm...?" about it and trying to resist, but then oc tells him how badly they need someone and he grows all weak for her bc.. man would literally do anything for this woman :') but since he has such a natural talent for literally everything, he aces the shoot and oc likes that very much and... cue chaos :')

but also the bit about her feeling secure about ppl touching him bc she trusts him ughughguh </3

[spicysucculentz]

that one sappho fragment about being broken with longing for a boy…… literally me rn trying to study for finals!!! I think I can recite it off the top of my head but I better double check

[kithtaehyung]

minted: three (explicit) | myg

title: minted: part three (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: masterlist | one | two rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: at this point, you would do anything to forget. including the unthinkable with a gangster. note: sooo this series basically saved my writing slump haha. i am still having the time of my life and i’m so excited to show y’all more of this minted universe. and to also show you just how spicy things can get❤️‍🔥 note 2: this is ofc a present for hali @sailoryooons that spiraled into a whole universe. still always gonna thank nary @joonary for letting me use the vendor reader idea, as well! also happy birthday to @remmykinsff @awbells @keylime4eva @aaclariww and @noshit-cantfindagoodone!! to everyone else having a bday around this time, this is my gift to you hehehe. warnings: language, drugs, alcohol, slow burn, murder mentions, gang activity, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, chains bc of course :)), world-building, reader is still sassy, yoongi is still infuriating, tension explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: december 9th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 12.3k 😀👍

explicit warnings: i know it’s a slow burn but there’s definitely smut lol, choking, head/hair tugging, penetration, oral (f rec), backshotssss, marking bye, rough sex, ass play, breast play, his hands are a nice necklace😀, taunting cus reader’s an icon, thighs, breath play, spanking, hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, restraints (his hands, robe tie), brat!reader but who is honestly shocked🙂‍↔️, brat tamer!yoongi lmao, yoongi is a menace i’m sorryyyy, but reader is…?????, need them both™, teasing, rawdogging HELLO?? (pls wrap it up fr!), commanding yoongi a ha ha, pain kink, cowgirl🙂‍↕️, this is just the calm before a whole damn storm

—

—

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

Did you go too far? 

Is there a limit to his accommodation? Did you actually think this was gonna be easy? 

When silence swirls between your robes, you start to second guess your demand. 

But Yoongi simply stares before stepping aside, allowing you to enter his room with jellied legs. 

This is madness, but you’re gonna go through with it. Whatever the hell this will be. Because you may not know much, but you figure all men sit up the same when sex is on the table. 

This man, though... 

Quite frankly, you aren’t sure about anything when it comes to him. Unless it’s about him doing something questionable. Then there’s no question about it.

The enigma himself makes no conversation as you step inside, even as your eyes roam around a cleaner, more put-together room than when you left the first time. Did Yoongi clean this much while you made a mess of your dreams? 

The only answer you get is a door shutting, followed by a massive presence at your back. Before you can so much as turn around, the first words on your shoulders burn like embers,

“Was he your first.” 

Fuck. 

This isn’t what you approached him for. He’s supposed to make you forget, not remember. Remember?

You don’t turn around; you don’t respond right away. Instead, you swallow before focusing very hard on the fact that Yoongi sleeps on the bedside nearest the window. At least, judging by the way the covers are flipped. You happen to prefer the side opposite.

The heat from his body proves soft but intense, and you can’t help but close your eyes when you finally answer with a question, 

“Do you remember yours?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you ever regret it?” 

“No.”

Your vision lowers to the rug lying still under the bed. A splash of light grey amongst a darkened, moonlit sea. 

No matter how quick Yoongi answers. No matter how even his tone. 

He still remembers it, too. 

But this isn’t what you expected when you walked in here. You assumed this man was going to get right to it, save no room for you to second guess yourself. Clearly he gave zero shits about kissing you in that taxi, and he damn near undressed you in the living room. 

So what’s the holdup here? Does he want this for real? Or not? 

Head at a slight angle, you admit with a hint of finality, “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

“Mm.” A warm, rough hand subtly tugs at your belt, and prominent knuckles nudge through the smooth material of your robe. “So what are you really here for.” 

Your eyes blink thrice. 

Yoongi cannot be serious. Does he really not know? 

No. He knows. With a shift of your jaw, you realize he’s just fucking with you, purposefully not in the way you want. “You’re being difficult.” 

“You woke me up.”

Ah. That’s fair. 

“So tell me.” 

Well. If you’re gonna have to spell things out for him, he’s gonna be waiting for awhile. Because the more you stand here not doing anything, the harder it is to gather a little thing called courage. Courage to meet the beast in his den, and madness to let him devour you whole. Now you have neither. Neither, neither, neither.

Awkwardness sticks to your throat until it’s jammed, and you can barely mush your lips together to form sounds. The courage you speak of flees before you can wrangle it, and what’s left of your answer tumbles out like boulders, “This is.. I don’t.. I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

“It’s,” you huff, noting that you don’t like this horrible mix of hesitation and anger, “It’s… I’m—” 

Your vision jolts as you feel a quick tug shit you’re spinning fuck your back just hit a wall—

“Of all things today,” Yoongi murmurs with slits for eyes, “This is what gets you to shut up?” 

Damn it. 

You don’t even have a rebuttal. Because he’s right. Yoongi’s sharp discernment is millimeters from your face and you have no intention to move nor speak. Only quick breaths. Only shaky exhales. 

But you do swallow.

Which brings out a sound you will never admit you like: a breathy, condescending laugh, as coarse and as soft as his touch. 

“You mean to tell me,” he observes, tilting your chin while his irises blaze dark, “You came all the way in here for nothing?”

“No, I—”

“All that talk, and for what.” 

Defend yourself. Say something. Say just one word two words any words—

Did Yoongi just pat your cheek? ..Twice? 

Why did you kinda like that—

“Makes no sense,” he ponders aloud, lolling his head and staring down your crumpled lips. “Who even are you..” 

Now that's an easy one. You always have the answer to that question. 

“No one,” you whisper. “Sorry to disappoint you.” 

Seems like the people back home aren’t the only ones you’ll let down. If Yoongi keeps that question loaded in the chamber, he’s gonna keep shooting the same target. Over, and over, and over. 

But you don’t have to worry. Because he drops it, caging you in with a hand near your stiff, risen shoulder, “So what are you here for.” 

This is a mistake. Either Yoongi doesn’t want this, or he’s being frustrating on purpose and your fire is both stoked and quelled. “Now I don’t know for sure.” 

“The more you stall the harder it gets,” he goads with a lick of teasing. And for a split, minuscule second, you wonder if that meant more than one thing.

Goddamn, he’s annoying. He’s outright savoring this. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. You woke him up for god’s sake. If someone did this same thing to you after the day you’ve had, you wouldn’t have even let them in. 

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi’s version of dealing with a midnight inconvenience is whittling them down until they leave— 

“So you can tell my bellhop off but I get nothing, huh.” 

Oh, shit. 

Oh, shit. 

You’re so taken aback that you can only ask, “What?” 

Mercifully, the dragon gives you air, straightening before leaving your personal space. 

Your focus should be on his words. You know this. But he uses this moment to rake his hair, and words are no match for the sleeve cascading down his inked forearm. 

Even as his hair flows in waves, you still cling to his tattoos as he looks downward in thought. “You think I wouldn’t check who the fuck was coming up here?” 

It takes you a second to process. 

But you realize what this means and you fall silent again.

Yoongi saw that? All of that? You acted without much thought, and if he really did see and hear everything that went down, there’s a chance he thinks a lot differently about you now. No wonder he’s so thrown by this switch in behavior. 

But on the other hand.. The way he touched you in the living room. Was all that because of what he saw? Is that side of you the one that pulled him close? 

You thought his parting would allow you room to breathe. How very wrong you were. 

Shoving all contemplation aside, you decide to coat the room with concern, your assertion making a brief comeback, “He said a lot of shit, Yoongi. What was that about?” 

He languidly approaches the long table at your side—one you faintly noticed while leaving the room the first time. Unbothered, he slides unhurried fingers over a gun, stopping on the barrel before reaching for something less lethal. 

A decanter, it seems. Liquid flows from the container into a smaller glass, and you assume it’s whisky from the deep amber tones and luscious pour.

When you wonder where else Yoongi litters his weapons, he cuts through your surveying, 

“You really wanna know?” 

Looking up, you nod. 

He sets the bottle down with a dull clink. “He took his chances.” 

“His.. What?” 

Now what the hell could this man mean by that? You were clearly being coaxed into leaving the premises, vaguely feeling like something seemed off. How is he being so dismissive about all this? 

Slowly, Yoongi shakes his head, looking out into the night while taking his initial sip. “I don’t come here often. But when I do, I come alone.” Long fingers nestle his cup perfectly as he explains further, “It’s been awhile, so. Had to feel out the staff.” 

The staff. Is that why Yoongi held your hand? To weasel someone out? You really thought he meant it when he said he just wanted to… 

How naive. 

“His plan could’ve been solid.” 

“But what?” You ask, newfound frustration clipping your tone. 

Yoongi slides you a look over the rim of his glass. “He didn’t know who he’d be dealing with.” 

Your eyes roll so far they strain.

But this begs a question. Does he mean dealing with you? Or him? Surely he meant your little show at the elevator but he could very well mean himself. 

Facts are facts. Would Yoongi really trade il-don for you? Absolutely not. So you have to assume he’s mostly talking about the latter. 

Your scoff is pitched to the side, “Of course. You wouldn’t trade il-don for anything.” 

Yoongi pauses, not acknowledging your comment in the slightest as he strolls back your way. “Something I am curious about..” As he leans in, musk and whisky invade both your space and senses. And you hate, hate, hate that you need more of it. “Who was he talking to?” 

“Someone he royally pissed off.” 

“Mm.” 

“You’re not gonna punish him?” 

“Me? Nah.” Leaning on the sideboard, he stares out the windows across the room. Your vision follows suit. “Not until I have to.”

If what happened wasn’t enough to warrant a punishment, you’re morbidly curious about what ticks the box. “I figured he’d be dead by now. At least for trespassing.”

Yoongi only shrugs. “Grey zones aren’t just amnesty for the clans. Anything goes here, too, so a ransom attempt isn’t surprising.” 

This man really doesn’t stand on black or white. Here you are with eggs for brains discovering you were almost taken instead of saved, and he’s chalking it up to, what, just another Tuesday? Or is it still Monday? You don’t even know anymore. 

Your question leaves you a little scuffed. Because you feel exactly like leftover goods. The fruit at the back. “Are you always this heartless?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

Great. 

So much for being… Safe up… here… 

You glance at the touch on your hip, and your eyes traverse up his arm as he toys with your belt again. 

Shouldn’t you feel disgusted? Shouldn’t you be walking away? It’s crystal clear how little this man thinks of you, or anyone for that matter. He probably brought you along just to be a shield for his precious il-don. So why can’t you bring yourself to leave? 

Your knot starts to loosen.

His voice begins to flow.

“But if you’re gonna go for what’s mine, don’t be an idiot.” 

Wait.

No. Nope. Stop thinking about what that could mean. Because if you think too hard, it will only leave you disappointed. 

But there’s something you won’t stop doing. And Yoongi knows you won’t. So as he keeps playing at your waist, your words come out in shudders, 

“Can’t believe you used me.” 

Yoongi hums, and it makes you shiver when his touch leaves you to rest against wood counters. “You’re about to use me, too.” 

Fucking hell, he’s right. 

“Gotta say I didn’t expect it, but..” Damn him and his head tilts. “I’m impressed.” 

You’re too empty-headed that you can’t even process his words as genuine praise. His touches already feel like pops of lights in the night sky.

It’s a given. You aren’t prepared for him in the slightest.

“Come here.” 

Lightly pulling your hand, Yoongi brings you to stand in front of him. And from this point of view, you become even more ensnared. 

His robe flows down his taut build so beautifully, painting him like dark water over rolling hills. At his peak, the hair you’ve come to miss frames his face like artwork. Mesmerizing. Your downfall. 

“You get one more chance. Tell me why I’m awake.” 

Your brow lift is only a front. The rest of you is shaking, trembling, howling. “You clearly know.”

“Tell me anyway.” 

Relentless. Will you shame yourself for wanting to see him use this same strategy on other people? Most likely. But will that stop you from thinking about it anyway? Absolutely, positively not. 

But there’s another side of you that’s being comforted. And it’s the side that realizes how much he’s spoken, how much time you’ve spent without needing to watch behind your back. 

Yoongi talking this much? It’s making things easier. And it’s strangely making you feel a little better, even if the subject matter isn’t the greatest topic in the universe. 

After you steal a glance at the other whisky glass, you look into his eyes. Determined and decisive. Knowing exactly what you want at this very moment, because you just need a little more time. 

“Tell me more. About grey zones.” 

Something in the air freezes. And Yoongi’s brows crease so comically you almost laugh. “That’s it?” 

“Yes.” 

His nod is slow as he sets down his glass.

And you’re quickly hauled back so fast that you don’t have time to react. 

A rush of air. The world topples. Soft sheets. 

Dangerously, a thin chain sways above as Yoongi shrouds your body in silk and lingering smoke. A gasp escapes you as he peers into your eyes, and your senses fire as a commanding hand slides up your thigh. 

“Final answer?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck you know you want him and you still do but also talking to him isn’t half bad and maybe you’re just tired of being lonely— 

Musk. Alcohol. Breathing hard, you take it all in. Slowly nodding because you can’t function otherwise, which makes a dragon flash teeth. 

But he obliges without moving a muscle, so you’re left underneath a demon—robe dangerously close to opening and exposing everything once again.

A man of conviction, Yoongi does exactly as you ask. Eyes drooped, he continues his explanations, as if he didn’t just shove you into his enormous bed and tangle you under his legs, 

“They started awhile ago, back when all the high-powers got locked in a grudge match. Took half the city with them.” 

Immediately, your shoulders start to sink into his tale. “Half is a lot.” 

“Everything went to shit,” he agrees. “Not even the Politicol could stop it all.” 

“Bullshit.”

His level expression is enough to refute.  

Now that’s a shock to learn. For as long as you can remember, the Politicol have always held more power than any force should ever have. If they weren’t able to keep this under control, the high-powers used to be ungodly. 

Staring at the slippage on Yoongi’s shoulder, you wonder if those ink lines are to immortalize the ones that came before him. The history he must’ve grown up memorizing. 

Still.. Why does he have them all? There’s no way he doesn’t know how disrespectful that is to all three clans. 

But then again. He said he didn’t choose them himself. Which leads you nowhere in this unending maze. 

Head disheveled; robe coming undone. To outsiders, you’d be at Yoongi’s mercy. 

But in reality, you’re laser focused on him and his explanations. Especially when his voice scratches every itch just right. “So…” You watch his gaze slowly slide down your face. “What happened?”

Even now, Yoongi’s hands stay exactly where they are. The only thing that moves is the tinkling swing of his silver above your warming neck. “Deals were made, stripping power from all of them in certain sectors so that none could completely take over.” 

“Why only in certain ones?” 

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Let’s just say the negotiations went how you think they did.” 

Your eyes roll yet again. But another question pings into your mind as quick as the first one, knitting your brows. “Wait… Deals with the Politicol? Or each other? No way they would’ve let cowards put them all on a leash.” 

At this, something interesting passes over Yoongi’s face.

But it flits away before you can snatch it for further inspection, and the shift of his leg against your thighs resets your brain. 

“Any of the clans could’ve monopolized if they had the right resource, but. They weren’t ever gonna let outsiders get a piece. Called a truce and kept their mouths shut.” 

Makes sense. You know exactly what resource he’s referring to. “The il-don.” 

“That’s part of it.” He shifts again, but this time, your legs have more room to move. “But grey zones have priority infrastructure. The ones that keep the lights on. If you had the money, you had the people. And people are the best resource there is.” 

It’s at this moment that a lot of things click into place. 

And one of those is figuring out that you may have been a little wrong about the man above you. 

Is he heartless? To a high degree. But that comes with being calculating. Patient. Smart. Everything that Yoongi has been this entire time you’ve tagged along. 

He’s not keeping the il-don safe because he treasures it. It’s because the money is a tool. A tool to help him get what he wants whenever he needs. And leverage it for value instead of frivolous decisions and material things. 

Yoongi must have really, really enjoyed your tangerines.

A stray touch finally makes its way inside your thigh. And you flare between your legs. Shivering. Aching. You’re sparkling inside but won’t allow yourself to fully explode. Not when he’s revealing so much without telling. Not when you’re starting to see things from his angle. 

“Keep talking,” you rush out, gripping his robe and squeezing his pelvis. 

Though his fingers still light flares on your skin, Yoongi stops in his daring quest, observing your face without judgment. 

“I like it,” you shakily admit. Because screw it, since you’ll never see him again. “Learning about all this.” 

You sigh at his weight. His beautiful, strangely calming weight. “About you, too.” 

Stopping all movements, Yoongi coats your skin with gravel. “What good will knowing all this do.” 

He’s got a point. And it hammers home exactly what you were just thinking. “Nothing, maybe,” you answer, squeezing his robe a little longer. 

Fuck, you really are this deprived. This lonely. Is bedding a dangerous man—this dangerous man—really better than being alone right now? A mental reset is outstandingly in order throughout the coming abysmal months.

You finish your weak explanation, hoping it’s enough to convince him, 

“But it’s helping.” 

Yoongi lifts his head to watch your eyes. And you observe how dark his are in return. How cold. 

But yet.. Why do you also see…?

With a slight huff, you tack on, “And you aren’t so annoying to talk to right now.” 

There it is. That spark you’ve seen before in dusty, tinkering streets. “Don’t push your luck.” 

“I might.” 

He exhales, shifting himself into a sitting position and facing the door. “The thing about grey zones.. No affiliation, no rules. You can be anyone here.” 

When you lift your upper body to sit, you watch his side profile as you repeat, “Anyone?” 

Yoongi turns to look at your lips. 

You know there’s a question you want to ask. But for some reason, it’s difficult to say. 

But eventually, you can’t help it. Because you’re intrigued. You’re haunted. And you really, really need this. 

“Then who do you want me to be.”

He lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Looking into your eyes, he asks in disbelief, “You?”

“I’m pretty good at pretending.” 

“Sure you are.” He gives you another small grin before resting forearms on his knees. “But you don’t want my answer to that.” 

Swallowing is proving too difficult. What the hell does he mean by that? Is it one big bluff or a real opinion? “You’re just being a pussy.” 

All you get is the side of his cheek rising high.

Yeah. He’s not gonna tell you a damn thing. 

“Forget about me then. Who are you right now?” You wait as his expression falls back to earth. “Agust? Or Yoongi?” 

When you end with silence, you’re met with an approaching shadowed visage. And even in this moment, you sense static in the air, both of you poised and locked in a dangerous, thrilling dance. 

“You tell me.” 

Your breath cuts as he slips a finger inside your robe, and you dare not breathe when he pulls—slow, unhurried, intoxicating. 

You’ve never felt quite like this. 

Are you supposed to do something, too? Is there something that usually happens here? Your experience isn’t zero but it is clearly leagues below where it should be. 

Before you can blink a third time, your garment is ever, ever so slightly off your shoulder.

And you haven’t uttered a damn thing.

So he keeps going, sliding it lower, and lower, until he reveals a part of you that you didn’t mean to reveal so suddenly before. 

This time, it’s deliberate. And that makes it terrifying. 

This is the point of no return. The slope of your chest barely keeps your robe from dipping any farther. It’s happening, and life between you will never be the same when it’s over. 

And yet. 

Your nerves speak up at the worst time.

“Get me a drink,” you whisper, “Then maybe I will.”

Yoongi flicks up an eyebrow before obliging, and you silently mourn the loss of his heated touch. 

He walks over to pour you something neat, taking his time bringing both glasses to the bed. When you sit up properly, you habitually adjust your robe, scoffing at his hum. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking the glass and smelling the piercing aroma. “Maybe this is what I needed all along.”

“You ever had sex before?”

The question is so sudden and blunt that you cough up a burning sip. “Ow, fuck..” Wincing, you wipe your mouth before breathing in scratchy inhales. “If you must know, I have.”

“Maybe you are good at pretending then,” Yoongi drawls. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. This situation is new to me.”

His brow raises are definitely talking a lot for him. 

“I’ve just never.. I dunno. Never had just one night.” Taking a more cautious sip, you continue. “Much less with someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“With a.. You know.” You fiddle with your glass. “A customer.” 

When you hear his reaction, you stare at his raised cheek, stomach fluttering when he sighs downward,

“You can’t just say shit like that.” 

“I can say whatever I want,” you counter. “Especially since I…”

You don’t wanna finish that. It helps that Yoongi doesn’t look your way still, taking a sip of his whisky instead. His locks swing forward as he leans, and you almost reach out to feel them. Maybe you’ll get to very soon. When you finally get over this final hurdle of outright shyness. 

Why are you so timid right now? Why can’t you just tell him what you very obviously came in here for and get on with it? You’ve been decisive as fuck the rest of today, so what’s got your tongue pressed this time? Is it really your abysmal level of experience?

Or is it because you’re gravitating to more sides of him with each passing second? 

“Since you what.” 

“Since I don’t like you,” you snip. 

Yoongi flashes teeth in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You take another drink, feeling the burn down your throat. “I don’t have to if it’s true.” 

Both of you keep drinking in silence after that. Which makes things a weird mix of calm and awkward, considering what your original mission was. 

Going over the events of today, it’s a wonder why you aren’t crashing into a dreamless sleep. You’ve been up and having the most exhausting day ever, and yet, you can’t imagine shutting your eyes. 

Think of something else to talk about. Anything. Any topic you could possibly hold a conversation with Yoongi over. 

What did he respond to before? No small talk, since the plantains thing from months ago was a bust. And when you conversed over ramyeon it was more of him angering you on purpose—wait a minute. 

There was something you never circled back to. 

And as soon as you ask him about it, he appears impressed you remembered, 

“Were you bluffing when you said you knew what I was shopping for?” 

“No,” he responds immediately. “And I know I’m right.” 

“Prove it.” 

Mouth curved at an annoying angle, Yoongi shoots you a look before placing his drink down, getting up to walk to a tall armoire. 

Your eyes follow his every movement, even the way his ass moves under that damned robe. But soon, your jaw goes slack not because of his assets. 

But because the motherfucker was right on the money. 

How the… How the fuck did Yoongi know? 

In front of your face lies exactly what you were searching for. Sleek. Minimal. Lightweight and visibly balanced. You don’t even want to keep shopping around because this is the only one you want. 

How did he know you were shopping for daggers based on one single line of questioning? 

“I wasn’t gonna show you until you asked,” he divulges. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d forget. This one was hard as fuck to track down.” 

Eyes flicking up to his, you ask in wonder, “Can I…?” 

He lifts it slightly, signaling that you can indeed hold it yourself. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, feeling along its edges and hilt. It’s all one continuous line, with metal so black and matted that you almost moan. “I don’t have much on me, but.. I’ll give you whatever you want for this.” 

“Keep it.” 

What? 

“It’s yours.” 

There’s no way he’s just gonna gift this to you. It’s perfectly crafted in material you can’t even find in Crane. And they have almost every class of ore in existence. 

Who even is this man? 

“Yoongi, this is…” You shake your head while extending it back. “I can’t just take this.” 

“You can.” He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist. “I did.”

Oh. Charming. The weapon you’re being gifted is stolen goods. “Well, in that case, I really can’t accept it.” 

But goddamn, this is more than perfect. You can’t even pluck one finger off the handle. And you can’t change the fact that it was already taken, right? Right?

“At least…” Scowling at your own crumbling morals, you mumble, “Not without good reason.”  

He looks at you over his shoulder. “Do I need a reason?” 

“No,” you reply. “But I’d like one.” 

Yoongi sighs long before moving his fingers. “I lied to you back there in the lobby.” Looking up at a clock instead of you, he works his jaw. “But this time, it really is just that.” 

“You expect me to believe you?” 

Fuck, the veins in his hands are so prominent when he laces them together. “No. But it’s better than those chopsticks you’re saving in the bathroom.”

Oh. So he saw those, too.

“Thank you,” is what you wave in white. Because that’s exactly how you feel and this one gesture does excuse some of his faults. Maybe. Or your standards have plummeted to the gutters. “I, umm. I usually keep one for self-defence. Just in case.” 

Turning it over and back again, you marvel at its light but solid weight. “But I lost mine in the last rough raid before they suddenly stopped.”

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“K.” Placing it on the closest nightstand, you go back to holding your glass between your hands. “One day I’ll pay you back somehow.” 

Yoongi shoots that down on sight. “No need.” 

“But I want to.” 

He glares before picking up his alcohol. “Anyone that owes me shit gets treated a lot different.” The drink rests in his hand like a liquid gem. “So just accept it as a gift, doll.” 

You’d laugh if you knew he was kidding. But you know he’s dead serious, so you only nod. 

It’s quiet again as you both retreat into your minds. 

Yoongi has the mental fortitude of a fortress it seems. Because he really is set on waiting until you tell him what you woke him up for, and it’s been awhile since this all started. 

But being in his presence while the night is quiet is somewhat comforting. You’re finding it easy to think about other things now, especially after he gave you so much to mull over. 

Like grey zones and how they came to be. It’s fascinating how you had no clue even though you should. Even though this whole conflict affected half the city. 

Wanting to gain more insight, you blurt your curiosity, “How long ago were the grey zones fought over? Before everything was decided?” 

“Years. Decades, at this point,” Yoongi answers, his gaze locked as you think about this timeline. “Most people don’t even bother knowing, though.”

“Why? This sounds like a big part of our history.” 

“No one cares if a Crane kills a Dragon.” His tone shifts slightly. And you wouldn’t have caught it if not for his subtle sulk. “They only resent the blood they have to wipe from the street.” 

Your lids lower all the same. Because that resonates deep within your chest, so much so that you feel your heart bend in its aching. “No one cares about us, either.” 

When Yoongi catches your look, you give a sad excuse of a smile. “Being a vendor? Especially where I am? You quickly figure out how little you matter. You as a person, I mean.” 

You slide fingers along the tiny rim of your glass, lost in the fibers of his rug more than anything else. 

Maybe you’re just a loose fiber in the rug of this city. One that will pretend to run only to be swept back into the folds. “The only things that people remember are what you offer. Anything other than that isn’t worth their time.” 

Lifting your chin, you save face. “Can’t say I won’t miss you.” May as well admit it all if you aren’t ever gonna see him again. “You were the only one that ever let me bother them.” 

“You never bothered me.” 

You look up to see him staring. Lip curled upward, you huff. “With all the looks you gave me? I find that hard to believe.” 

Yoongi doesn’t laugh in return. “What would I gain from lying?” 

Mm. That’s an interesting question. But the alcohol starts to talk for you as you have the balls to flirt. “People lie to get laid, for one.” 

“Mm.” He takes a measured sip of his glass, the last dredges of it swaying at the bottom. “Can’t say I’ve ever needed to.” 

“Shocker,” you drawl, sipping to match his pace. And it’s after this drink that you loosely admit, “This is really good, by the way.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Lifting the glass to peer inside, you swirl it around before divulging a past you don’t talk about—ever. But what are rules of conversation when you want to stall? “My uncle got me into whisky a long time ago. But fruit stands don’t pay for top shelf alcohol.” 

“Where’s he at now?” 

“Uhh.” You look away. “Gone.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” 

He gets up, and you watch in silence as he makes his way to the sideboard. Stuff shifts around before he appears to pour another glass. And he stays there for a bit, black robe blending into all the dark decor. 

“Yoongi?” 

He turns. 

“Can you keep talking?” You keep your drink steady between your robed legs. Buzzed and vulnerable, you offer an explanation, “Turns out there’s a lot I wanna forget right now.”

Like endings. And future endless days without your most frustrating, most dangerous, most favorite customer. 

Yoongi pauses before walking back to the bed. When his thighs settle next to yours, he asks without much heart, “What do you wanna know.”

“You.”

His jaw shifts, and you feel a slight tug in your chest. 

Was that too forward? Probably. But you’ll take what you can get, like a last meal chosen to hit every one of your desires. “Anything you wanna tell me, of course.”

Yoongi remains quiet. Which isn’t unexpected but still a little letdown. 

“Not much to tell.” 

Ah. Just more lies then. Maybe you should stick to the original plan. “Nothing at all?”

He looks at you, planting a hand on the bed to lean a little closer. “Nothing you’d wanna hear.”

You shift between his eyes. Wondering if it’s better not knowing or if you really do wanna give in. 

Perhaps his eyes will speak for him instead. Glowing dark. Hints of ember and smoke. Years and years squeezed into those irises. 

“What if I do,” you quietly question, catching the light on his alcohol-tainted lips. 

Reaching out, you boldly place a thumb over one side, slowly brushing off excess liquid and marveling at how soft he is there. Tender, just like his name. “What if I don’t care.”

Yoongi waits for a moment before holding your wrist, the atmosphere trembling and buzzing around your shoulders. Oxygen depletes as he leans in close, his beautiful features almost touching yours. 

You feel something locking into place. Something beautiful and terrifying. And it holds you down as you feel his hair, his warmth, his—

A noise blares into the room before you can feel yourself rushing upward, your body reacting on survival instinct alone. Glasses spill onto the rug and you don’t know what’s happening but lack of sleep lack of comfort lack of everything has you ready for—

Time stops. 

Sounds muffle. 

And your eyes flash wide as you see the tip of your blade pointed straight at Yoongi’s side. 

Just as he’s poised with a gun pointed towards the door. 

It’s a phone ringing. 

A fucking. Telephone. 

What have you done?

As Yoongi slowly shifts his gaze to your outstretched hand, you tremble in severe regret. Regret that you pulled this on him with the very weapon he gave you. Regret that he knows all there is to know about how you still feel about him. 

But you didn’t mean to… You didn’t even think. And you abhor how you directed your fear at the one person that kept you alive. The one person you fucking saved. 

When Yoongi lowers his gun, he doesn’t acknowledge the guilt on your face. But as he walks away to grab his device, his gaze flicks back to you before he answers across the room. 

Shit. 

You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up. 

You weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t care. You really weren’t. But who knows what Yoongi will think of you after that shock of a face off. 

Coming into his room was most definitely a mistake. Now you can’t wrangle your emotions for shit, head pounding with feelings and outcomes and adrenaline to the brim. 

Yoongi’s close to the wide bathroom stairs, so you can’t hear what’s being said. He does keep looking at you, though, which keeps your fingers pressed against a hilt. 

Are you in danger? Will Yoongi not want anything to do with you anymore? Is it alarming that you can’t decide which one is worse? 

The call doesn’t last long.

And as soon as he hangs up, you’re sputtering like a broken fountain, dagger still wielded as he stalks forward—phone clunking to the ground. “Who was that.” 

“No one.”

“What’s gonna happen to me.” 

“Nothing.” 

Fuck. You really did fuck everything up. Your brain is so battered that you’re gonna be skittish and paranoid for a long, long time. “Yoongi, I’m so—I didn’t mean to—It just happened—”

Forget it. It’s over. Your last interaction will haunt you forever and the only way you’ll experience what could’ve happened between you will be in your wildest darkest sweetest illest—

Burns flare at your eyes when Yoongi’s chest meets the quivering tip of your blade. 

“Stop,” you wince out, a damning tear pinging to your feet. “Just stop.” 

He starts to walk forward, which alarms you enough to step back because what the fuck is he doing! Why can’t your arms move? Why can’t you lower the fucking dagger? 

“I can’t,” you croak. “I can’t move.”

You’ve been firing on all fronts the whole day. Even in your dreams, you’re in survival mode. You can’t unlock your arms because they fight for the rest of you. Your legs propel you when the rest of you wants to give up. 

But that still doesn’t stop your heart from aching. It burns, it burns, it burns. 

When Yoongi grips your wrist, you choke on a sob. When he calls you smart, you squeeze your eyes shut in shame. And when he whispers to drop the fucking blade or he’ll do it for you, you do so after a maddening pause. 

It clunks to the ground when a gun does, and you’re suddenly spun until the backs of your knees hit something solid. 

Immediately, you’re thrust back onto dark sheets again, tears now rolling into your ears as you instinctively let Yoongi smother you whole. 

His hand slides to your inner thigh, and your mind reels when you start feeling a hardness on your stomach. Breath whooshes out of your mouth before you're covered in silk and muscle, and pleasure bursts from where he quickly devours your neck fuck.

Hands are quick to untie your robe as fire stokes your throat. 

“I won’t ask again,” he vows with a voice that rumbles. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Say it and it’s yours.” 

“Make me forget,” you shove through your teeth. “Just make me fucking forget.” 

“How.” 

Fuck lack of experience. Fuck being shy. You aren’t wasting another damn second and your emotions need all the release they can get. Loose lips, loose tongue, looser inhibitions.

The monster inside of you yanks at its chain, claws and claws at its confines screaming at you to give in. You need this. You want this, especially if Yoongi himself is gonna give it so willingly.

Just say it. Just say it.

“If this really is the last time I’ll see you…” 

Yoongi stills as your eyes lock unblinking. 

Tell him. Four words. 

“Fuck me like it.”

A proverbial chain snaps as Yoongi dives into your neck, ravishing you and sucking hard on your vein. When you yelp, your clenched legs seem to encourage, and he thrusts forward to launch you up the bed with a purpose. With intention.

All to let you know what you just got yourself into.

His fingers light little fires along your skin, burning everything in their paths up your arms, your sides, squeezing into your imperfections and latching down. His lips set your being ablaze as he keeps feasting, causing your breaths to get shorter, and shorter, and shorter. 

“So sensitive..” 

When you feel the warm swipe of a tongue, your eyes scrunch shut as you shudder. Which makes the whole thing worse for you when Yoongi chuckles dark in return. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for this.” 

“Shut up,” you huff out, grasping for his robe and raking at his sleeves. “Of course I am—Fuck.”

His thumb rolls across your exposed nipple, pinching it to make you arch right up into his chest. “You sure?” 

When the hell did he even open your robe? How did he do that so quick without you knowing? 

You bite down on your lip to keep from screaming, nodding in determination while your brows almost kiss. 

Watching your expression, Yoongi pinches again, biting his own lip while slowly spreading that shit grin. Your moan comes out more like a muted hum, which seems to displease. 

“Uh uh,” he orders. “You’re gonna be loud for me.”  

“But what if someone—” 

“They won’t.” 

He continues in his control, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up before shoving it to the side. 

And you know where he’s going. But it still shocks you all the same when his fingers make contact with your slick. 

Your very, very wet slick. 

Many, many things will haunt you for life. Your experiences. Your choices. 

But right now? The only thing that will follow you to your grave is this distinct, biting, staccato batch of laughter. “You shouldn’t’ve ever come in here.” 

Breath ragged, you watch as Yoongi concentrates, exploring your cunt with his long digits and hitting every nerve with perfection. When you rub against him, he growls, lifting shiny fingers to insert right into his mouth. 

Sucking. 

Licking. 

And your eyes mirror his at once—as black and pulsing as fallen stars. 

He swoops down at the same moment you tug on his clothing, his mouth latching onto the side of your neck he hasn’t ravaged. Impatient, his hand yanks the bottom of your robe to the side, fully exposing your legs and leaking folds while you grapple with your own obstacles. 

It’s messy. It’s jilted. It’s exactly what you want. 

As soon as you find the slit in his robe, you take a brave leap and reach for his cock, not knowing what you’re gonna find but having a vague idea based on his—

Oh. What.

Fuck, he’s gonna split you in two. 

You’ve held one before. You know what they feel like. But this cannot be possible and you’re already mentally preparing yourself for your breaking point. 

“You good?” 

You snap your head right up, realizing how stunned you must be if he’s asking. “I… You’re fucking huge.” 

Yoongi doesn’t react, but that somehow makes it more attractive. Like he knows. And he doesn’t deny a thing. “That a problem?” 

“I mean… I think I’ve lived a good enough life.” 

To your surprise, the man above breaks completely as you keep blabbering, shoulders shaking alongside those stupid dimples. Those beautiful, elusive dimples. Too bad this is the last time you’ll ever see them. “Did what I wanted.. Not everything, but most of my list.” 

Yoongi’s still chuckling. And for a brief moment, you’re brought back to the days he was just a patron. Back to when you would think about him before bed, delighted to see him stop by. 

This is him. This is Yoongi with you now. 

Where was he this whole time? Was he really waiting until you answered him for real? 

You went so far into your head that you missed the change in position. So it makes you jump like hell when you realize where his teal mop of hair resides. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?” 

Between your thighs, Yoongi lifts a brow, locking your legs with tough arms before you can even move. 

“Yoongi, you don’t have to—oh, fuck!” 

The first contact of his tongue on your folds makes your eyes burst, your legs effectively being pinned down in their tensing. Jolts of lust spiral from your core as he licks, sucks, twirls around your clit like it’s second nature, and you feel yourself welcoming his every thrust.

This is happening. This is happening? You’ve never done this before, not that you’ll admit it. Whatever Yoongi’s doing is completely new territory for you and you don’t ever think you’ll leave. Permanent residence. No other land to discover. 

Whines echoes throughout the room before you slap a hand over your mouth. Because the whole world will hear his name if you don’t. Especially when he adds fingers and curls them just right what the fuck! 

He makes you forget. And forget. And forget. You even forget your own name. Only his. Saying it into your palm over and over and clawing his sheets with the other. 

A low growl rumbles between your legs before you hear him purr, “Just like I fucking thought.” 

What’d he say? He didn’t say that. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. There’s absolutely no way Yoongi’s imagined anything about you, much less what you taste like. 

And the words keep coming as he whispers how tight you feel. How hot. How perfect you’re gonna fit him. 

While all you can utter in return is gibberish mixed with the syllables of his name. 

Pleasure rolls in waves as he learns every inch of your cunt, fingers drenched in your slick and the curves of his cheeks lathered in your scent. When he reaches beneath you to grope your ass, he gives a rough squeeze. 

“Move your fucking hand.” 

Your eyes fling wide. 

“I wanna hear you.” 

“No, I’m—there could be people—”

He clambers over you, robe wide open and revealing a body that rips your soul clean out. When he seizes your palm to shove it to the side, another monster starts to wake within your chest. 

And this one takes treacherous pleasure in those slitted eyes. 

“You’re gonna scream for me.” 

“Or else what.” 

The dark rumble. The rolling thunder. 

Your other monster is starting to match his glint. “You don’t wanna do that with me, doll.” 

“Do what?” you ask with flitting eyes. 

When all you get is a sharp smirk in return, your stomach flips in desire and excitement. So when he slaps the side of your breast, you hum high with a delighted flinch.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” 

Yes. This is what you came in here for. Your shyness will have to be comfortable with the unknown, but it’s also helping seeing Yoongi much more relaxed. 

Like a normal person. 

Especially when he leans over to open his bedside drawer, hair swaying as he grabs for what you think are condoms. 

Your hunch is right when he rights himself again, teeth nicking a wrapper before tearing it in one sweep. When you start to clench your legs together in response, he shoves them back open with a thigh, robe parting to show exactly what’s going to splice you in half. 

You’ll gladly take his amusement at your jaw unhinging. Because what you see is heaven sent. 

Yoongi says nothing as he wraps himself fully, and he continues to be silent as you whisper, 

“I wanna see you.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to understand. As his length presses against your core, he slips off his dark robe, letting it slide down equally dark sheets before pouring onto the floor. 

You’re just as quiet as he situates himself above your beating heart. Which is for the best. Your thoughts are better left unsaid. 

All you can do is grip his arm, sliding your hand up until you can finally, finally brush his hair with your own fingers. Exhaling when you discover how soft it feels. How comfort can be found in something as trivial as tendrils.

“This is helping, too,” you murmur to his lips, inhaling what you realize is your own scent. 

When he cradles your chin, your breath cuts. “Things happen when you say what you want.” 

“If only it was always that easy.”

“It is with me.” 

Your heart skips twice before tripping on itself, and you instinctively curl your palm against his head. “Everyone around you must be so lucky.” 

An eyebrow lifts before he huffs. “Not talking about just anyone, love.” 

…Huh? 

What does he mean by that because shit you’re getting tugged forward he’s so strong—

“Now, if you’re gonna be difficult,” Yoongi warns. “Let’s give you enough time to reconsider.” 

Your thighs widen as he positions himself at your entrance, cockhead rubbing along your folds as you tense. 

“Uh uh.” He hums. “This is what you want, yeah?”

“It’s been awhile,” you spat, rolling your eyes when he shoots you a knowing look. “Just… give me a second.” 

Obliging, Yoongi starts slow, making your head roll into the pillow as you accommodate his girth. Holy fuck, he’s big. But he’s sliding in easy after his little feast down there, which you piece together as one big prep for the main course. 

“Fuck,” he groans, resisting every urge to plow straight into you. At least, from what you can decipher in his pinched features. If this feels amazing for you, you can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now. It only gives you butterflies knowing he’s following through with his word. “So fucking tight.” 

“Not my fault you take up… so much space,” you grit through your teeth, neck straining as you blow air to the ceiling. 

Fully sheathed, Yoongi rests inside until your muscles relax. And you only peel your eyes open when you start to slip into more pleasure than anything else. 

Okay. You can do this. You can fit him surprisingly well—maybe too well—and you’re okay to keep going without restraint. 

When you peer down your body, you expect him to look bored or indifferent. Like he’s wasting time dealing with you. 

So it makes you shiver when Yoongi looks ready to ruin. 

Toned arms flex at his sides, hands keeping your thighs held in their place. When a strand of vibrant hair falls, his chains spark in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. A dragon that waits. And waits.

You’re ready. Your demise will be your reward. 

“I’m good,” you assure him. “You can move now—”

A second invisible chain snaps with a clink, and Yoongi launches into a thrust that has you seeing stars. You tumble through the dark as he thrusts again, mouth open with silent yells before you gnaw right into your lip. 

“Relax for me,” he commands. “Just like that.” 

Your cunt hugs him tight as you bounce even harder, his little grunts of praise making you mewl and whimper in bursts. 

Fucking hell, this feels good. 

You cannot wait to find out how it’ll feel when you piss him off. 

His hands grip your hips, hosting you up onto his thighs as he thrusts hard into your cunt. Your body rocks in an arch, limp and at his mercy—which there is very little of. Enchanted, your  lip tightens with the pull of your teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he feels so fucking good and hitting. Just. Right. 

It all carries you so far gone that as soon as you feel a rush of air, the sting on your ass makes you react—piercing moan making both of you freeze.

And Yoongi’s eyes deepen a shade as he slowly grins. “There you go.” 

“Don’t act like you—fuck!” His second swat has you grunting through your teeth, and his thrust forward at the same time he does it again has you whining. Monosyllabic, his name shoves out of your lungs, with each part more chipped than the next. 

“What’s that, love?”

“Yoongi, please—”

“That’s right.” He clutches your sides so damn rough. “Say my fuckin’ name.” 

And his pace pitches you into the sun, rocking so hard you won’t be surprised if the bed frame snaps in half. In thirds. In sevenths. Your legs go completely limp as he drives in, filling you and hitting a spot that pierces your eyes with stars and light and lust. Down down down you spiral, up up up you go. It’s only you and him now, with Yoongi plowing into you like his life ends come morning. 

There’s nothing in the world that feels like this. Burdened by the dangerous weight of a man—this man—while feeling so light you could float? Absolutely nothing can compare. 

Your body finally rests as he stops, but you get no breather as he flips you over with strong arms. Disoriented, you squeak as he tugs you backward, your ass rising in the air as your head is shoved into luxury cotton. 

Sweet pain sears your ass again, and you gasp with wide eyes as you feel his cock at your entrance. “What are you—”

“Lift up. Higher.” He slides his dick up your folds. “You’re gonna like this.” 

“You don’t speak for me—”

He thrusts into you as soon as you get accustomed to his length and size. And the place his thumb presses makes you scream into your pillow. His pillow. A hotel suite pillow that you’re biting to stay afloat. 

How the fuck does that feel so good? How does all of this feel so good? His thumb on your asshole already has you melting, but the smacking of his sack against your clit makes you want to repent.

“So fucking—fuck.”

Drool strings from your mouth as your arms are tugged at the elbows, your whole upper body coming up for air. Precious precious air that’s cut off when Yoongi chokes you from behind.

“Yoo—!”

His strength slams your chest into the headboard, right at the edge of the bed before you feel the force of his palm hit the wall. 

“What did I fucking say.”

“A lot.”

“I’m gonna hear you.”

“But—”

He shoves you flush against dark wood, your cheek smushing hard and your lips curling. “Let them hear you, too.” 

You keep your moans muted until fingers are shoved down your throat. And you gargle until he yanks them out. 

“That’s it. I know you can take it.”

“You’re easier…” Gritting your teeth in a smug grin, you taunt in a bold-faced lie, “Easier to take than I thought.”  

His laughter is not lighthearted. “You’re still gonna go there, huh.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you pout, eyes drooping from the euphoric shocks his thrusts provide. Sweat rolls down your arms as you slip on the wall, but it gives your chest a cool surface to rest. “Go where?” 

Suddenly, the grinding stops. And your cunt feels abandoned as he pulls out so fast. When you think to spin around, he spanks your ass with a harsh, “Don’t move.” 

Do you want to disobey? Yes. But you’re more curious than anything, so do as he says.

And your eyes light up when you realize what he comes back with. 

“Now… I could use this,,” he warns, pressing a silky smooth robe tie along your neck. “Since you don’t wanna behave.”

“Do it,” you taunt, wishing like hell that he does. Yes, yes, yes. You’re drunk on lust and volcanic want and you will fight for nothing more. “You won’t.” 

Your neck is rocked back before you feel him slap your ass. “Then stay still.” 

And you obey as you feel your belt—or his, either one—wrap loosely around your column before it’s tied. 

Gently, your chin is turned, and you’re surprised when you’re met with stern eyes. “Can you breathe.” 

Blinking, you nod. “Yeah, I can.” 

“Two taps if you’re out, understand?” 

“Yes.” 

A swift pat to your cheek. “What’d I say.” 

“Two taps,” you repeat, figuring out fast that you’re liking this development a little too much. “If I’m out.” 

Holy fuck the yank you feel is exhilarating, your body bending back as shock overcomes your senses. 

Lidded eyes staring down at yours, he vows, “You better make them count or we never do this again.” 

“I will, I will,” you rasp out, breath still coming to you fine albeit a little more harshly. “I promise.” 

“Good girl.”  

Wait, did he say again? 

As he slips right back inside, you lose all passing trains of thought. Cunt filled while his fingers clog your mouth makes you traverse to another plane. Every part of you, at his mercy—

Then he yanks you backward and all that mercy burns in the flames of heaven. Flocks to the clouds of hell.

The belt is completely taut as you succumb to his thrusts. Hard. Fast. Rough thrusts make you cry out as he toys with you, gravelly hums tumbling down your back as you arch for him. All the sounds you make echo throughout the room, a symphony of mewls and moans as Yoongi controls your every move. 

“Take it.”

“Hmm?”

“You want it,” he repeats. “So take it.”

Oh. Oh, he wants you to—Oh.

You start moving back and forth, doing exactly as he says. Taking what’s yours for the night and shamefully not forever.

But it turns out it’s not enough because he tugs. 

“Like you fucking mean it.”

Fuck.

Groaning, you move with more intention, sliding up and down his cock and feeling full every time. It feels good having control, you muse, and imagining him watching your debauchery turns you on that much more.

Your thrusts turn to rough slams, friction running fast while you chase it with all your strength. The groans you hear sound primal, hissed taunts egging you on.

“Guess you can listen after all.” 

“Fuck you.”

Another hard yank. 

Your laugh only spurns him on. 

Slaps to your ass, grabs to your breasts. Yoongi is worshipping every inch of you and you won’t even notice this until nights later when you’re alone. You’ll remember the way he squeezes just right, the way he fits so well, the places he hits with no hesitation nor guesswork. It’s pure experience strangling you with passion and you don’t even know how to embrace it all.

But then you start to feel it. Your breath tapering. It’s getting harder and harder to suck in air and you’re starting to see stars across your eyes. 

When you reach an alarming point, you quickly slap his leg twice, oxygen gushing into your lungs right as he lets go. 

You almost come on that exhilaration alone. Adrenaline pumps pumps pumps into your veins, eyes blowing black as he spins you around.

Hot, open mouth kisses pepper your burning throat, and you have the nerve to catapult him all the way back onto the bed. 

Yoongi lets you top him with a laugh, and you immediately use this opportunity to pin him down with a chokehold. Wanting him to feel the same way you just did. Knowing deep in your soul that he wants it, too.

“Cute.”

“You asshole.” 

Holy fuck, you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse. It’s rugged. 

It’s salacious.

He cocks a brow while peering down his nose. “You done?”

“What?” You blink. Slowly releasing his neck, you admit with a rasp, “No, that’s not what I.. I’m not done with you.” 

Yoongi slides into a smirk, and you attempt to scoff with a burning throat. 

You wanna tell him how good he is. How stupidly attentive he is. But all you settle for is something neutral. Safe. And maybe a little forward. 

“Just felt like calling you that.” 

Yoongi’s smile mellows into a line, and if you weren’t in such an evocative position, you would have thought it was genuine contemplation. But he slides hands up your thighs before slapping the side of your ass. “Get on.” 

Fuck. You don’t really know how. At least, you don’t know how to do it without showing him you aren’t used to it. 

So the confidence will keep getting faked. With a little help of your quick wit and tongue as you grab his length. “Didn’t hear a please.” 

Yoongi huffs out amusement. “I don’t say that.” 

His tip goes in fine. Fuck. Okay. You can do this you can do this. “Why am I not surprised—!” 

He shoves you down as soon as you give him enough leeway, and you groan out as you catch yourself with hands on his chest. 

“This is where you’re gonna live,” he says with confidence, laughing in condescension when you scowl. “Fuckin’ love it.” 

He can’t say stuff like that. 

You ride until you find a rhythm, rolling your body and finding the friction you want. It’s there for the taking. And he’s encouraging you with gravelly words and hums, with hands up your stomach and grasping your chest. 

After a single swirl of your hips, he throws his bed back until his neck strains. “Fuck.”

So you take that cue, rotating between rides and swirls. When he tweaks and rolls thumbs around your nipples, you clench hard around him, and he does it until you moan to the ceiling. 

A slap to your breast makes you whine, and you keep going before leaning forward, placing hands against his shoulders and bouncing your hips on his cock. 

“—a fucking natural,” Yoongi praises, chuckling to himself as he toys with the silk streaming down your neck. 

“Maybe I’ve just practiced.” 

“Show me more then.” 

Quickly, he tugs you down flush against him before grabbing your ass, slamming you down and pistoning up until you scream.

You start biting his shoulder to quell your shouts, which makes him moan loud enough to make you possessive. Wildly possessive. Before long, you feel yourself going limp on him, only for him, solely for his pleasure and yours. 

“Just like that. There you go.” 

You mewl into his skin as he grabs you, holding you down as he slams into you again and again and again. Drunk with power, you begin to mark his throat, devouring and feasting with reckless abandon.

Growling ragged, Yoongi flips your position and pins you face down, shoving up hard into your cunt before plowing. You fully lean into the yells now, saying his name and inching over the goddamn edge of the bed.

It’s there. Your release. It’s potent and it’s visceral and it’s everything you need need need—

“Yoongi, I’m close—”

He penetrates so far that you can taste him, and you come so harshly that you convulse. Squeezing like hell and quivering in a full body fold.

Holy shit, the screams. Is that you? 

The sinister laughs of pride prove you right. “That’s my girl. Fucking scream.”

You can’t stop. All you know is extreme pleasure coursing through your veins, pulsing beautiful colors and making you arch like mad. 

But you have more to handle. Yoongi prolongs your euphoria by yanking you back only to sink into you again, hands rubbing both nipples and tongue speaking deadly sins in your ear.

“You aren’t done,” he growls. “Lemme hear you again.” 

“I can’t—”

“Liar.”

His name rips from your mouth as you surprise yourself, gushing around his length and squeezing in powerful pulses. Nothing exists. Nothing at all. Everything you know is a feeling, as vibrant and shimmering as the sun above your street back home. 

All the heat you’ve ever felt coalesces along your skin, and the words whispered in your ear slide right down with your sweat. You aren’t quite sure what you hear. But judging by your preening, it has to be praise. Dirty, dirty, sinful praise. 

When your limp weight is flipped, you allow your legs to be hoisted up with no resistance. Looking upward, you peel open lids to the equivalent of a king. A god. And your outright awe blocks your ears from catching what your dragon swears. 

“—perfect,” he grits, inserting himself into your squelching folds. “Again.” 

No fucking way you have more left in you. You’re already floating in the ether, buzzing in pleasure and sweat and ecstasy. If you come one more time you’ll be an empty shell. 

“Earn it,” you boldly rasp out, grappling a bit of your spirit and reining it back one last time. “Take it, you bi—”

Your heart leaps up your throat as you’re pitched upward, groan serrated and high as you grin in triumph because it feels so fucking rewarding when he gives gives gives. 

Letting everything go relaxes your folds, causing Yoongi to rock into you with pride and without resistance. His chain smacks against his pecs at the same pace as your bouncing chest, and you’re more than sure you’re gonna feel bruises on your legs where he sinks his claws.

Skin slapping skin. Mewls and gritted curses. Heady scent covers them all in a thick layer and you feel the light grow closer and closer, stronger this time than all the others before it. Why? Why do you know this one will pitch you over the edge for good? 

Both of you may feel the same. 

Because Yoongi suddenly shoves himself so far into you and presses his body flush against your shuddering shaking screaming form.

You pulse frantically around him, throat sore and ragged from your final cry as tears stream down your face. It feels so fucking gorgeous that it hurts, and you enter a plane so mystical it’s completely separate from your earthly vessel. The two of you become closer than one, and you feel Yoongi stutter in his groan before yanking out and ripping the condom off.

Hot spurts paint your skin—a sweaty, spent canvas that dips slow with your labored breaths. His own breathing is rough but not exhausted, and you chalk that up to the mountain of stamina and experience he has on you. 

It’s done. 

Thoroughly spent.

All the pent up emotions dissipate in a slow descent. The chaos of today finally lowers its head, your monsters making their ways back into their cages. Moonlight shines brighter. Fuller. 

Illuminating a man in silver as he slowly heads into the bathroom. 

Holy fuck. You just slept with a gangster. With a Dragon.

With Yoongi.

There’s no way you can forget this. No way you can see yourself moving past this moment, even years and lifetimes from now. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi never thinks about you again, because something transpired in this room that you’ll keep locked away in your soul forever. 

As he brings back a towel to wipe his essence from your skin, you wonder. 

Was it all worth it? 

Or will this torture you in every dream you’ll ever have? 

A palm digs into the mattress before you feel weight and jewelry. The silk around your throat is carefully undone, and lazy, heated lips descend on your neck once more.

Bliss.

Sighing, you utter his name much softer now, telling him please without knowing what for. 

“What do you want,” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” you admit in a wisp. 

Yoongi keeps worshipping your throat, and you mewl when he reaches to rub your breast in a slow squeeze. When you drag your hand down to grip his cock, he tenses with a gritty hum. 

“Careful, love,” he rumbles. “There’s a lot more I can do with you.” 

“Tell me.” Your breath starts shorting in anticipation. “Tell me everything.” 

“Nah.” When he slides forward, the bare tip of him meets your cunt, causing you to flinch with a bitten lip. “You’re just gonna have to wonder. Day, after day, after day.”

Fuck this guy with the spite of a thousand lives. You’re the one holding his cock, so how the fuck is he still being this sure of himself? 

“Put it in,” you blurt, earning his gaze of utter confusion. 

“What?” 

“Just for a second.” You stroke him, feeling slick velvet and wetness coating your fingers. “That’s the last thing I want.” 

His eyes search yours, and for the first time tonight, he’s the one that looks hesitant. “You sure…?” 

“We’ll never do this again,” you whisper. “And I know you want it, too.” 

His gaze holds yours for a moment, searching your eyes for any sense of doubt. 

When he finds none, Yoongi positions himself at your entrance, and you feel his knuckles brush your folds before he sinks in. Slowly, cautiously, extraordinarily. 

And both of you groan so full. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi glowers, teeth sharp as he grounds them hard. His arm veins strain, shifting all his ink in pretty ebbs and flows. All his stomach snaps taut, and you can’t look away from his sheer look of concentration and lust. “Fuck.” 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, enjoying the way he’s slowly grinding against your walls. All the slick from your releases allows smooth strokes, and you already feel close for yet another time. An unbelievable amount of orgasm in such a short span. You’ll never reach this peak. Not with anyone else. “What the fuck, I’m close again—”

“Shit—”

It happens in a snap. But more of a mellowed, drawn-out river flow than a full waterfall. Your eyes slowly roll before closing, and your chest arches slow as you rock back and forth on his cock. The squeezes are harder. The pulses are fuller. You’re milking him for all he’s worth, like your cunt won’t let go until it’s pumped him dry. 

Which makes Yoongi lose his absolute mind, hissing as he pulls out quick before spilling onto you all over again. Again? 

Holy fuck, again? 

As he groans up above, his eyes are wiped dark completely. Which makes you wonder how you can still see stars embedded inside. 

Was it all worth it? 

You’ve never been more achingly sure.

It’s a long shot to know if he feels the same. And an even longer one for that to truly be the case. 

But it’s okay. 

This is the first, the last, the only time you have. And it was more than you could’ve ever asked for. 

As he falls into the sheets next to you, both of you exhale harsh, hearts pounding and pounding into the bed and to the ceiling. 

You can’t even move. Every single limb is sore from base to tip, and the door looks so, so far away. 

When you whisper his name, you get a little acknowledgement at your side. Gathering all the strength you have left, you whisper, 

“I know this is when I’d be kicked out, but.. I can’t move.” 

The small puff of air you get in return sounds like a yes. But you aren’t sure until Yoongi verbally gives you a real answer, 

“S’ok.” 

All you can do is hum, noticing with a sharp pang that you feel soft towel wipes before the smooth slide of sheets up your bare skin. 

“Just stay on your side.” 

Ah. 

Well. At least you aren’t alone for a night. 

“And you.. Stay on yours,” you murmur, darkness seeping into your peripherals. 

“Mm.”

Yoongi can be as cold and heartless and calculating as he wants. But you know he’s more than what he shows. 

Because with a second sharp hit to the chest, you also realize the side you’re on is the side he was on before. He’s not gonna make you move just to keep his preference. 

Don’t think too much about it. Do not. 

“I wish everything was different,” you whisper, drifting into a dreamless sea. “I don’t want to hate you...” 

Your forehead is swept by a warm hand. You cannot lift your lids any longer, but your ears still hang onto their efforts. 

And the last thing you hear before succumbing to the dark is a lighter flick and a fact. A cold, expected, damning fact. 

“You’ll always hate me.” 

When you wake, you’re greeted by the same room you fell asleep in. 

Sunlight cuts through grey skies to shine every surface, and you breathe in a musky, comforting scent as you stretch your limbs. 

Did last night really happen? 

The soreness between your bare legs is more than enough to prove so. 

Slowly turning, you whisper to Yoongi that you’re ready to go when he is. 

Only to find out that you’re talking to no one. 

Shit.

Shooting up, you start to panic. Maybe he’s in the living room already? Getting ready to call someone to bring you back home? 

Glancing at the nightstand on his side, you don’t spot the dagger he gifted you, brain grappling with what that could possibly mean. 

Your ribs crackle when you bite back emotion. It’s all over. 

Shifting back to swing your feet onto cold fibers, you pause with swimming eyes. 

Because the blade rests ready on your nightstand, propped on a set of plain clothes in the perfect position you would need it to be.

Teeth clenched and eyes burning, you swipe it before rushing out of bed, head pulsing and a dull ache between your legs. “Fuck..” 

The shirt and pants you’re given don’t exactly fit, but you’ll take what you can get as you punch limbs through long sleeves and high pants. 

Yoongi isn’t here. 

You feel it in your whole being, and you have no fucking clue why it hurts. 

But if he’s not here…

Who do you start to hear outside the door? 

You freeze, lungs expanding as you hold multiple breaths. 

It sounds like talking. But also a myriad of sounds? 

Heading into the bathroom, you silently glide across the floor before swiping up the chopsticks. Because yes, you’re still gonna save them. For defence. For keepsakes. For a grave reminder. 

Tucking them in a pocket, you ready your dagger under your garment, pressing it flat against your skin like you were trained to do. 

Slipping out into the hallway, you hear the sounds clearer. Movement. Slides of furniture. 

What the hell is going on? 

You’re about to retreat back into the room when a man crosses in front of the hall. 

And his hair is strikingly… 

Orange?

As he catches you in his vision, he stops on a dime, hand outstretched in greeting. “Hello!” 

Your step back makes him laugh. But you’re not laughing in the slightest as you question, 

“Where’s.. Where’s Agust?” 

“Gone.” The smile spreading makes you squint. “Need to see him?” 

Your answer is immediate.

“I’d rather die.”

-

-

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: alright before i say anything else: use the bathroom after sex, and especially after doing it unprotected!! i normally include it so this is a rare exception. but yes. please use the bathroom after, and practice safe sex always! a/n 2: WHO COULD THAT BE AT THE END THERE... ahahah but seriously, i for one am still swirly eyed just thinking about what's coming for these two.. they have no idea what's in store and i'm itching to get the next part done! a/n 3: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[lunaekalenda]

biker!suguru who picks you up from work waiting on his bike, helmet resting on his hand and messy bun from riding.

biker!suguru who brings your hands back to his abs whenever you try to put them away while riding

biker!suguru who buys you a cover for your helmet that makes it look cute.

biker!suguru who holds your hands on every stop he sees, and caresses your legs on every red light.

biker!suguru who gives you his riding jacket whenever you come back from a dinner date.

biker!suguru who spends the early mornings of summer changing the motorbike's components, stained tank t-shirt and sport shorts smiling at you when you wake up.

biker!suguru who takes you to every special place he had found riding, to make new memories by your side.

biker!suguru who loves to receive your "drive safe" texts whenever he's on his way to pick you up.

biker!suguru who helps you to sit as his backpack, hands on your hips for much longer than necessary.

biker!suguru who sits back ways to look at you and refuses to turn the bike on unless you kiss him first when you arrive next to the bike.

biker!suguru who adapts his pace to your liking - not too slow, not to fast, just the exact point you enjoy.-

biker!suguru who lets you ride whenever you want, sitting as a backpack behind you and hugging your body with strong arms.

sfw part two here!!

should i make a spicy part ? (u know, bikers ughhhhh) (probs gonna make it anyway)

[moonlight-prose]

taste me on your tongue

a/n: guess who's gonna go see deadpool and wolverine again. last night i was battling a migraine, but at around midnight it finally fucking disappeared. so i wrote a small drabble that i'd been dreaming about to make myself feel better. it's short and spicy and i'm actually obsessed with it.

summary: the taste of him became an addiction you couldn't ignore. especially when he was adamant on sharing it in multiple ways.

word count: 0.8k+

pairing: logan howlett x reader

warnings: semi-explicit, shotgunning, cigar taste, make out sessions, dry humping, his hand makes a pretty necklace, good girl usage, logan is messy with it.

His grip is loose on your neck—fingers splayed across soft skin he'd bite later. Heavy enough to keep you in place, remind you what he wanted, but with enough leeway for you to move. To slide into his lap with ease—hands braced on his leather clad shoulders. A smile painted across your heavenly face; one he tried to burn behind his eyelids in the hopes of replacing his nightmares with visions of you instead.

The cigar was set between his teeth, smoke curling past his lips that mumbled your name. He half expected you to remove it—toss it into the ash tray and leave it to smolder for the rest of the night. You surprised him by pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. A pleased sigh escaped you when he pulled you closer—the evident bulge on his jeans gave enough information about what he wanted.

"Ain't you pretty tonight," he said, thumb running along your collarbone. "Get all dolled up for me baby?"

You nodded. "I wanted to meet you at the door."

"Mm." Whatever plans the two of you set flew out the front fucking window the second he saw you prancing towards him—a soft smile on your face and hearts practically reflecting in your eyes. "Prettiest fuckin' thing I've ever seen."

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, hips shifting over his with a whine. And Logan felt his body beg him to move this along. To strip you of your clothes and drop them to the ground. He merely spread his thighs a bit wider, forcing your legs to stretch over his hips—your fingers a sharp dig through the layers he wore.

"I missed you today."

"Yeah?"

What he wouldn't give to see that look in your eyes every fucking morning. Soft enough to break his already damaged heart. Yet filled with enough love to put it back together.

"This place is empty without you Logan."

There'd never be anything sweeter than knowing he held a spot in your life. Days without him left you longing for his touch—his voice whispering in your ears. Logan felt like an anchor. A reminder that you belonged right there with him; you weren't lost in your place in the world when he existed to find you. Although whether you knew it or not—Logan felt the exact same about you.

"'M gonna try somethin'," he said, voice hoarse as he pictured what would come after this. "Hold still for me bub."

His calloused palm slid up your throat until he gripped your chin tight enough for your lips to part. Heat pooled in your stomach when he tugged you closer—his nose barely nudging against your cheek. You thought he'd kiss you like this. Still puffing on a cigar and lips tinged with the taste of it.

You almost wished he had.

The sight of his lips closing around the end, sucking in a mouthful of smoke, before he pulled it free caused your stomach to drop—the throbbing in between your legs suddenly unbearable. You wouldn't have been able to ignore it if you tried. And thankfully Logan was always adamant on giving your body the attention it needed.

The attention he claimed you deserved.

Pushing your cheeks together, he brushed his lips over yours in a kiss. A whimper climbed its way up your throat and nearly broke free. If it weren't for the smoke he blew into your open mouth—the taste of his cigar now a part of your sharp intake of breath.

"That's a good fuckin' girl," he groaned.

Giving you no chance to respond, his lips clashed against yours in a messy kiss. The smoke that remained now escaping between the two of you—disappearing into the air within seconds. His tongue licked across your teeth, spit a wet smear along your bottom lip. For the brief second he pulled away, shifting to cup the back of your neck, a string of saliva left the both of you connected.

You took it all. Each rough grunt and deep lick he gave you. And you met him with soft sighs and moans of your own.

"Can I have another?" you asked against his cheek, hips starting a slow grind against his lap.

Logan's whole body jolted at the sound—his breath, a hot pant against the skin of your neck. He was lucky he didn't finish in his pants at your question. Yet before he could give you a straight answer, he was shoving the cigar back in his mouth—pulling in another long drag to gather as much smoke as possible.

How could he deny you something so sinful? When you asked like an angel.

"C'mere," he muttered around a mouthful of smoke. Careful to keep it from escaping.

You smiled, fingers tangling into his hair, and met him halfway for the kiss. Logan felt a piece of himself settle deep into your chest—forever now a part of you.

don't look at me okay. i just want him to blow smoke in my mouth.

[rosenclaws]

Hii, I saw you were taking requests and was wondering if you could maybe write like slow burn smut for Logan in X-men days of futures past? I was thinking a mutant! reader in their early-mid twenties who are inexperienced and very shy/quiet. They also have powers similar to Jean grey. One night Logan and the reader are left alone in the mansion and during an innocent game of drunk 21 questions, the reader accidentally gets a glimpse of what's on Logan's mind 👀

Sorry if that's too detailed, I had a dream like this recently and I can't stop thinking of it 😭 it's okay if you don't wanna :) tysm 💞

a/n: Hi! So I hope it's okay but I didn't make this a full on smut fic. I can do a part two if you really want but I ended up making this a little different. It's a little angstier and there's spice at the end but no full on smut. I hope it's enough!

warnings: fem!reader, spicy makeout, teasing, flirting, fluff, angst.

You couldn't stop staring. Just who the hell was this man? When you had opened the door you were met with the handsome stranger. Tight denim pants and that brown leather jacket. You couldn't even answer his question. Too busy staring him down. He smirked and took off his sunglasses, leaning against the door until your faces were inches apart.

"Like what you see sweetheart?" You could barely stutter out a response before Hank and pushed you to the side and took over. Telling you to go back to the lab. With a roll of your eyes you went away.

See you had been at the mansion for years now. It was your only hope and even with it being pretty much abandoned Charles and Hank let you stay. You honed your powers while helping out around the place. It wasn't until dinner time that you finally learned what the hell was going on. The mans name was Logan and he was here to save the world from a future where mutants are being hunted into extinction.

At first you laughed, thought he was full of shit but then you peered into his mind. Only for a moment and saw it. You weren't laughing after that. So now he's sitting in your kitchen drinking beer. You were watching him from the door. Was it creepy? Yes but you couldn't stop yourself.

"You can come out now sweets, I'm not gonna bite." He looks over at you and you hide behind the door. Embarrassment creeping over you as you shyly peek your head out. He was looking at you completely unamused.

"Sorry, I got curious." He smirks and pats the seat next to him. Quietly you join him. Tapping the counter as he sits there silently. He offers you a sip of his beer and you take it.

"Blech." You scrunch your nose up. You never liked beer so you don't know why you thought this time would be different. Logan laughs and takes another sip.

"So, what were you curious about?" You stare at the counter as answer him. You can't look at him, he's too intimidating.

"Everything. Did you really come here from the future?"

"You saw in my head didn't you?" Your eyes widen in surprise. You had no clue he knew about that. Normally people can't tell and you do try to stay out of peoples minds but you couldn't resist.

"I'm so sorry I-" You're cut off by Logan's chuckle.

"You say sorry too much sweets."

"Sorry." He raises an eyebrow and smiles fondly.

The way he looks at you is strange. He doesn't seem like the friendly type and you had just met him so why is he being so nice to you.

"Am I alive in your future?" Logan's face falls, just for a moment. He covers it back up with that handsome smirk but you saw it.

"Tell you what, you get me another beer and I'll answer any questions you have." He sets down the empty bottle and waits. You open the fridge with your powers and summon a bottle of beer. He goes to reach it but you pull back.

"Ah, you answer my question first." He rolls his eyes and makes another grab for it but you move it out of both your reaches.

"As stubborn as always." He shakes his head.

"You're alive." He keeps it short. Not wanting to explain that the last time he saw you he held on so tight he almost ripped your suit. Knowing you were going into battle to protect him, to make sure he could finish the mission. You slowly bring the bottle back and hand it to him.

"So what happened? Why did they send you back? How do you know me? What's your mutation?"

"Okay okay one at a time Jesus." He answers your first question without words. Popping out metal claws from hands to take off the bottle cap.

"Woah." You reach out to touch them but he sheathes them back in before you can.

"Sentinels. They were created by Trask and they can morph to defend themselves against any mutation. I'm here to prevent the events leading up to everything."

"Couldn't this really mess up the future though? Like what if things get worse?" You ask, trying to wrap your head around the idea of time travel. It's not like it's impossible, I mean you literally control things with your mind but it's certainly a confusing concept to grasp.

"It might. But it's the only shot we had." You badly want to see what's going on in his mind. What kind of future he comes from and just how bad it really is.

"You're not asking any questions."

"Why would I?" He snorts and you catch him sneak a glance at you.

"Are we friends? Because you look at me like you know me already." Logan stays quiet. He refuses to look at you as he downs the rest of his beer. There's so much he could say but maybe he should stay quiet.

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry." You reach out for his hand. He flinches away at first but he grabs your hand when you try to pull away. He missed your touch. He missed the life he had before the sentinels. He missed you.

"For what sweetheart?" "Just, it seems like there's always so much pressure on you." He shrugs.

You haven't changed one bit. Always a big heart and a kind smile. He squeezes your hand gently. His hands are rough and they're so strong. You can't help but stare at the veins in his hands that run up to his arms. He lets go of your hand and you frown slightly.

"Logan? What happens if you fail?" You ask hesitantly, not really sure you want the answer.

"Then we're all dead." An uncomfortable silence settles over the room. You don't even know what he has to do but you know the weight on his shoulders must be enormous.

"Look you shouldn't worry about this. Trust me when I say I'm going to do everything I can." Everything he can to save you. Save the world too but in his mind you're his number one priority. He stands up and sadly you realize it's gotten late.

"Show me to my room?" He holds out his hand and you take it. You know for a fact that Hank already told him where he was staying but who are you to say no to more time with Logan.

"You tired?" He asks as you arrive at his room. You shake your head and he holds the door open.

"Want to stay?" He sees the way your eyes widen and he chuckles.

"Not like that, unless you want to." The truth is he wants more time with you.

Selfish as it may be he needs you. Just to be around you, even if you don't really know him yet. Your presence always calmed him. You nervously sit on the edge of his bed, playing with the blankets as he sheds his jacket. He's dressed in a white tank top and pants. He sighs as he lays down in bed, back against the headboard as he lights a cigar. You don't even know where he got that from. After a few moments of silence you decide to ask the forbidden question.

"Can I see what it's like?" You know that you shouldn't. That looking into his mind could be a huge mistake but you need to know.

"It's not pretty in here sweetheart. You might find something you aren't ready to see." His breath hitches as you start to move up the bed. Crawling until you're kneeling right next to him. You place your fingers on his temples.

"Logan," You whisper, asking him for approval. He nods and you close your eyes.

You're met with chaos. It's like his brain is constantly at war. Horrible memories of the future. Destruction, death. His friends are dying, the world is falling apart. Then there's you. You look older and an overwhelming feeling of desperation washes over you. You see yourself from Logan's point of view. He's begging you not to go. To stay safe and be with him but you don't stay. You have to give him the best chance. You disappear into the fog and Logan watches.

"Sweetheart," You hear his voice coming from the real world but you can't pull away. Going deeper and deeper into his mind. All the violence, all the loss this poor man has been through. So much anger.

"That's enough!" Logan grabs your wrists and tries to pull you off him but not even his super strength is enough to match your powers when you're like this.

He can see you start to panic. You haven't learned to control your powers as much yet and he can't stop you. So he takes a deep breath and starts thinking of one thing. You. Slowly the violent memories turn into something else. His brain starts to quiet and so does yours.

Years of your life together with Logan. Every kiss, every flirty glance. The quiet moments. It's like you're watching him fall in love with you. You start to calm down but then his thoughts take another turn. It's still you and him but the scenes are more...intimate.

His hands on your body, caressing, kissing. Loud moans and images that would make a grown man blush. It's dirty. It's hot. Just how much sex can two people have. He has you pinned to the bed, to the wall, over the table. In the shower, in the car, outside. Your hips start to move subconsciously against the sheets. Logan finally gets your hands free. Your breathing heavily, eyes blown wide as you stare at the man before you.

"We're together."

"Yes."

"You love me."

"Yes I do, sweetheart."

"Oh my god you've seen me naked." You gasp as you cover yourself with your hands. Logan laughs as he gently takes your hands away.

"If it helps you'll see me naked too. A lot." Your eyes glance down to his crotch briefly. From what you saw. It's big.

"This is really weird." You mumble as you sink down into the bed.

A concerned look washes over his face. He loves teasing you but never to the point of making you uncomfortable. He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you sweetheart. If you want to go you're free to go." He loves you with all his heart and he knows that he's entered your life earlier than expected. So he's okay if you're not ready to know him yet. Because eventually you'll find each other again.

"It's not that. I promise. It's just. A lot." You explain. You watch the man in front of you. You saw your future together and you want it now. As selfish as that sounds you want it now.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask shyly. This man has seen you naked and taken you in every room in the mansion and yet you still nervous to ask for a kiss.

"Course you can." You cup his face, the scratchy feeling of his beard making you laugh.

Slowly you kiss him. He already knows just how you like it. Nipping your bottom lip to get access to your tongue. He slowly lays you down into the bed. Crawling over you as he deepens the kiss. You taste just as sweet as you always do.

"Logan," You moan as he places his knee in between your legs. Your hands slip under his white tank top. Groaning as you feel his chiseled abs. Fuck he's just perfect isn't he.

"Take it off." You beg as you tug his shirt. He smirks as he sits back on his knees and rips his shirt apart.

"A little dramatic don't you think." You say as he throws the scraps to the side.

"You like it." He growls. His hands coming to lift your shirt above your head.

"I can smell it on you babe. I can hear her calling my name." He bites your neck roughly as he grinds his hips against yours.

"Want me to show you a sneak peak of the future sweetheart?" He purrs as he toys with the hem of your pants. You run your hands over his bare chest. It's insane how hot he is. His eyes swirl with lust and love. A gentle care in the way he promises to ravage you. You look up at him, hands gripping onto his strong arms.

"Show me. Show me everything."

[leafostuff]

Practice routine [Ft. Jo Yuri]

Author Notes: BOOM SURPRISE SMUT, SO SURPRISING EVEN I DIDNT KNOW I WAS GONNA UPLOAD IT TODAY, i had a blast writing this and Jo Yuri did get on my radar lately so i did want to give her a smut of appreciation.

Hope yall will have a Great read and a great day

Ps. No beta readers because :p

=================================

It's a practice routine what you two have.

There is nothing better to build a strong friendship than a vow to help each other build strength and have a healthier lifestyle, especially when your friend is an idol, practicing hard for her next comeback.

Two light knocks on the glass door and it quickly opens, you are greeted by Yuri standing in front of you, wearing a white button shirt and long, black pants paired with an warm, sweet smile as soon as she looks at your eyes. 

“Finally! It took you forever to get here Oppa~” then she grabs your hand, pulling you inside the practice room, wooden floor surrounded by mirrors from almost all sides.

“Yeah, you forgot your company halls are a maze to walk around in,” you say, your hands work on taking your sweater off, leaving you with a basic tee and a pair of sweatpants 

“Well maybe if you came here more often then you wouldn't be so lost” she retorts in a playful manner. “Okay you already got here, lets get started with the session”. She announces before immediately taking her shirt off revealing no bra, giving you a free view of her mounds, her nipples already hard as she asks you. 

“Pants off, Please~”

Well, i never said what type of workout you two enjoyed doing.

“How many reps do you want to do again? 15? 20?” You ask, meanwhile your hands quickly lower the pants and boxers, throwing them off somewhere in the room.

“Hmm, lets do 30, im feeling spicy today” she comments however It's her eyes that tell you her needs before her words. She's looking at you, her smile beaming in excitement with every step you take toward her with your length proud and ready to work.

Yuri now kneels in front of you, face level with your cock as she takes one of her hands, attempting to wrap her fingers around it, her face leaning in close enough to have her lips part wide enough to have your tip rest inside, letting you feel the first tingles of pleasure.

“Readeh?” She mumbles a question while your tip is resting on her plump lips, eyes meeting yours with an ever-so innocent smile, funny given the fact she has you dick ready to be devoured.

You can only respond with a sly grin before saying, “One…” this word is so engraved inside Yuri’s brain that as soon as she hears it she starts letting her mouth take in your cock, getting close to your balls before eventually going back to your tip, and then doing it again, and again, and again.

Right now, the only sounds present in the room are your steady counting, the faint slurping sound of her mouth in the goal of getting you worked up faster and the playful, sweet and muffled moans coming from Yuri. And how does this look? Well you can't say you are less than aroused seeing how the mirrors around the room portray her taking care of your cock so well, it's filthy yet at the same time, it's the purest form of art you ever witnessed.

It's around the 12th rep that she lets out your cock, lips coated with your seed forming a sultry smile. “Wow, I can feel myself getting better at t-mph” you don't give her the chance to continue the sentence, bucking your hips into her mouth, getting her to gasp in surprise, or pleasure, it might as well be the same for her.

“The set Yuri, your pace is great” She smiles at your compliment, turning all of her focus back again to your cock as she continues to bob her mouth back and forth, eventually the pleasure Yuri showers your member with slowly start to take control of your body, enough that your hands have to gripe the back of head for stability, 

Enough that every time Yuri lets your length deep inside her mouth you move your hips forward, letting your tip graze the back of her throat.

Eventually you count the 30th rep, getting one more moan from her and then she lets her mouth of your cock with an audible pop sound. “Mmm, that exercise is always a good warmup for me~” she says, letting out an adorable chuckle while she licks her lips from any leftover cum.

“That's good to hear, let's start the next exercise?” 

“Ooo, yes yes yes, you know I like it when we do that exercise” she happily agrees, grinning like a child as you now sit down on the floor, watching as Yuri begins to lower her own pants, revealing to you, surprise surprise: no panties as well and her lower lips are already glistening with her own fluids

“Wow, were you this needy for a workout Yuri?” You ask as the two of you begin to shift your position: now you are sitting on the wooden floor while Yuri is straddling your lap, feeling how your cock is inches apart from her lower entrance.

“You know what they say…” she says, her hands making quick of your shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. a good workout always helps when you need a little boost” you can feel her want, you can tell how much she needs you right now so why delay the inevitable.

“20 reps?”

“30” Yuri answers as she now puts her hands on your abs, feeling the texture of your 6 pack on her fingers. then without any foreword she lowers herself into your length, making you feel her pussy tightly wrap around you

The first round of friction makes you sound a heavy groan of pleasure, your hands go to each side of her hips, gripping for control while you move her up and dowm on your body, making light clapping noises from both of your bodies.

Yuri looks like she enjoys it, replacing her sharp movements to literally bouncing on your dick around the 8th rep, her tongue lolls out of her mouth making her unable to sound anything but a sultry, needy moan.

Eventually through the pleasure you are experiencing, you find the strength to lean your head close to Yuri's ears. “God, you love it when i fuck you like that, right?”.

She can only moan in response while moving her head in a way that can resemble a sign of agreement. “Yeah, you fucking love it when I pretend that I am your private coach to your company, to your manager just so you can have some cock to relieve you? To fuck your entire body silly?” You say in between your grunts, it's not like she could actually answer since she is busy being impaled by your length so you settle with a loud gasp caused by your hand giving a loud smack to her right buttcock and groping it tightly.

The last couple reps are slower, replacing the consistent pace with raw strength every time you thrust yourself into her tight cavern. Yuri attempts to cry out a scream of pleasure but not before you seal her mouth with your own, muffling her moans enough so that only your ears are blessed with hearing the unholy symphony that comes from her mouth.

She can feel how close you are to unloading for the second time today so just as the last rep of the set comes, she sinks her hips to engulf your length entirely inside her, getting both of you to mutually release your orgasm at the same time,and the cum goes everywhere.

On the floor.

On Yuri's Thighs.

On the upper half of your chest.

But most of it goes inside her, rope after rope after rope of cum fills the insides of Yuri making her brain unable to process the pleasure taking over her body. Eventually she finally manages to detach herself from your body, letting the both of you fall onto the floor, a mixture of you two fluids leaks out of her Cunt.

“That. Was. Awesome!!” She tiredly exclaims, panting heavily after each word, her eyes looking at the ceiling light. “I swear, this was like, The best training session we had in a long time” she adds, even when its obvious she was talking about sex, for her its just an intensive workout.

you only have enough energy to sit up without saying a, you see Yuri still laying on her back, her body full of sweat and cum while her face just like at the start shows a happy, satisfied smile. You can't explain why, but seeing her like this suddenly gives you an idea.

“Do you know how to do a sit-up?”

She scoffs, looking at you as if you just asked her whats 2+2. “Without any problem, its not some rocket science”

“Can you do 30 reps?”

“Sure, watch me” she responds, laying on her back once again and getting into position of the exercise. “On-ngh” Just as Yuri was about to start she could feel a weird sensation running over pussy however as she looks down, its just your head in between her legs, your tounge is giving slow licks to her hole, “what are you-hahh…doing?” She asks in between a small jolt of pleasure.

“Just an after practice treat for me, each rep you do before cumming is one second of me eating you out, win-win from how i see it” you look up her with a bratty grin, however its impossible to beat Jo Yuri in being a brat so in response she just smiles and says.

“Better hope i taste good then” she now looks at the ceiling again, continuing her reps thus giving you the signal to continue your deserved meal, and how sweet does she taste for you after a good workout.

Unlike your previous excerices today, this one had given you the opportunity to hear Yuri moan, but instead of the usual needy noises and the constant need for your white fluid, this time they are moans of music and each one is a note creating this passionate sonate of sex, for example:

“Haaaa, so good”

“Can you go slowe-nghh…please?”

“Oh yes, thats the spot”

“Fuck, You're gonna make me cum again with that tounge…”.

And meanwhile the workout goes on, you can feel small beads of sweat flowing from her thighs onto your hair, her thighs wrapped around your head depriving you from air, and her fluids flow inside mouth little by little, tasting like an unforbidden nectar you couldn't stop yourself from it's addicting flavour, something so sinful feeling oh so right with Yuri.

But sadly you can only experience the pleasure for so long, since fairly quickly you can feel the last round of cum coming from Yuri nto your mouth as she detaches herself from your tounge, gathering some strength to sit down and say in a breathy tone, “Fuck, this was amazing”

You eventually have to bid your goodbye to Yuri, after all your practice session with her was over according to your managers, but not before you help each other find your clothes, clean up any cum stains on the floor and depart with a small hug added with firm grope of her left buttcock.

Its now evening, already at home, getting yourself prepared for the Gym, even a coach needs some practice of its own, out of nowhere your phone sounds its mario coin notification, taking it out of your pocket you see it's a message from Yuri.

On it there is a picture: Yuri, fully naked, her Feet and hands sticking to the ground but her ass? Standing up and proud into the air with the hole almost directly in front of the camera lens, and the text below?.

“Good evening Oppa, can we do this workout tommorow?? I really think it can help my flexibility 😉😉😏”

Good to see your favourite client enjoying your service, already asking for more.

[mameillieureennemie]

you and me (let's make something great)

author's note: so i had an idea, and originally, it was gonna be a ficlet mainly focused on debauchery. BUT THEN my brain decided to turn it into something longer with plot, so here we are. it's very soft in the first bit but don't be fooled, it gets filthy as it progresses. please enjoy!

cw: gp!vi, afab!reader, pregnancy talk, breeding kink, dirty talk, nsfw 🔞 (primarily in the second part)

wc: 3.3k

dividers: @/cafekitsune

part i: let's talk about it

There’s always been talk of starting a family.

Kids with the white picket fence and a garden large enough for them to run around. Maybe a dog or two and a cat because you’ve always spoken about how much you want one. It’d be everything that’s so simple and expected of a family, something so ordinary that it’s almost laughable. But you and Vi never had the opportunity to experience what the ordinary family is.

She grew up an orphan with only her sister by her side, only able to survive due to Vander’s kindness.

You had your own set of problems; a family that didn’t listen or could listen but choose not to.

So to have a family where you can give your children the life you weren’t able to have, that means the whole world and more.

Vi toys around with the idea of asking you again, about the possibility of starting your family as soon as possible. You’ve been together for ten years and married for two, and life has never been as perfect as this.

You’re both doing well at work, bills are being paid on time and there’s even some savings in your joint account. Even savings to potentially look into starting something if that is what you want.

You’re swaying around the kitchen, speakers blasting your playlist as you cook up dinner for tonight. You’ve settled on a simple pasta dish, warm and spicy with delicious herbs. The sauce is bubbling away on the stove and your hips follow the stir of your wooden spoon. You bring the spoon up to your lips, blow gently before having a taste. A hum leaves your lips as your eyes flutter shut, pleased with what you’re creating.

Vi’s enchanted by you and one might call her silly, to be captivated by you merely making dinner. But it’s the mere act of it, the domesticity of it all and how you show your love through everything you do. Even if it’s cooking a dish that you’ve both eaten a hundred times before.

That’s what being in love is and Vi is greedy to share that with someone who’s both her and you.

“Taste this for me?” You ask, facing where she’s sat at the kitchen island. Vi’s quick to hop off her stool and make her way towards you. Her arms encircle you the moment she gets close and your smile brightens at the touch. You lift the spoon up to her lips and even though she knows it’s delicious, Vi goes in for a taste. She mimics your pleased hum from before, swaying you to the slow beat of the song that now plays.

“Babe, you crush it every time,” Vi reveres, causing you to roll your eyes fondly. “How do you do it? Were you a famous chef in your past life or what?”

“It’s pasta sauce,” you respond, voice deadpan but expression vibrant. “The same pasta sauce we’ve been making for five years and can make with our eyes closed.” You turn around in her arms so you can attend to the sauce, Vi taking this opportunity to latch onto your back. She nuzzles into the curve of your neck, pressing a kiss into the sensitive spot there just so she can feel you shiver. “It’s hardly Michelin star worthy.” You pause. “Wait, can dishes be given Michelin stars?”

“Fuck if I know,” Vi murmurs, hooking her chin over your shoulder and settling in. From here, she can see a pot full of water boiling for pasta and the sauce thickening nicely in its pan. “So I want to talk to you about something.”

“We can’t go to the water park next week,” you say, amused. “We’ve had this discussion like six times and as much as I would like to go and hit the wave pool, there’s no—”

The laughter that bursts out of Vi’s mouth is enough to hurt her chest. But it doesn’t stop her from cackling, burying her head into your shoulder in an attempt to muffle how loud she is. She can feel the shaking of your body and hear your lovely laughter as you join her, fully leaning into her chest for support.

“No, you idiot,” Vi manages to say through her chuckles. “Oh fuck you, this was supposed to be a serious thing.”

“Why do you think I said what I said?” You retort playfully and Vi falls even more in love with you, as if that’s even possible. “But tell me what’s on your mind, baby. What’s going on?”

Vi takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second to gather herself. When she opens them, you’re turning off the burner for the sauce and reaching for the fettuccine to the side. Just as you’re pouring the pasta into the bubbling water, Vi’s thoughts spill out.

“I want to have a family with you.”

You go still for a moment, your arms poised above the boiling water with the empty pasta box in your hands. Vi’s unable to see your face but she isn’t necessarily worried about your reaction. It’s a conversation that you’ve had multiple times over the span of your relationship, but today is where you start taking steps towards putting it in action.

“Well, yes,” you start, placing the pasta box back on the counter. Then you’re turning in her arms so you’re facing each other again, your eyes peering into hers. “We’ve spoken countless times about this.” You smooth your hands over the rounds of her shoulders, your face soft. “I’m still very much onboard with this because I want to have a family with you too. But I’m guessing you want to talk about a timeline.”

Vi nods, momentarily speechless because you always just get her, even without her having to say anything. She pulls you away from the stove to sit you on one of the kitchen island’s stools. She notes how you eye the pasta and makes a mental note to attend to the pot after five minutes.

“We always did say that we’d really start considering it once we’ve gotten our lives sorted,” Vi says, standing between your thighs. “And I’d say that our lives are pretty solid. We’re no longer in debt and we’ve got a decent amount saved away.” Her fingers play with your hair, causing you to lean into her touch. “So I thought that now would be a good time to try.” Vi then shakes her head. “Obviously, it’s your choice because it’s your body and I’d never want to pressure you into doing anything because of me and—”

Vi doesn’t notice she’s rambling until you’re pressing your finger against her lips, fond amusement colouring your features.

“I married a good woman,” you say, so tender that Vi feels her heart swell so much that it hurts. It presses against her ribs, pushes up on her lungs making her breathless. It makes her cling to you, hiding her head into the curve of your shoulder. Your hands come around to run soothingly down her back and she melts. “I know it's my choice, baby. You've never made me feel like it wasn't.”

Despite Vi knowing that, the relief that hits her is cool and instant. It's always nice to hear that she isn't pressuring you; that she's allowing you to make your own choices regardless of what she wants.

“I've always wanted to have children with you,” you continue, still running soothing patterns down her back. “That's something that has never changed and probably never will.” You then lean back and Vi's graced with the excitement in your beautiful eyes. “I imagine a little kid who's a mixture of me and you. Maybe my hair and your eyes or vice versa.”

“I hope they get your personality,” Vi says softly. “That they get your kindness and empathy. Your patience and wisdom.”

You laugh quietly, closing your eyes to hide from the blinding of Vi's earnest gaze. You're embarrassed, she can tell, and that makes this moment all the sweeter.

“Well, I hope they get your strength and conviction,” you reply, tilting your head up so the tip of your nose catches the softness of Vi's cheek. “That they get your loyalty and ambition. Your sympathy and empathy.”

Vi's cheeks burn at the compliments you dress her in. Compliments that you would call truths because that's how you see her. Even under all the mess and mistakes, you see the diamonds that rest beneath the dirt.

She'll never understand why someone as special as you forever wants to be with her.

“So…what are you thinking?” Vi asks, eager to see where your head’s at. She watches as you purse your lips with a hum, eyes rolling upwards to stare at the ceiling in thought. Then you’re looking back at her with a smile and that’s how Vi finds her answer.

“Really?” Vi has to double check, to be sure that you’re both on the same page; that this is what you want to do from this moment.

“I’ve been wanting to suggest it for a while but—Violet!” You exclaim out of surprise, laughter startled from you when Vi pulls you in for a tight hug. But your arms are wrapping around her instantly, holding on with a solid grip.

“Thank you,” Vi whispers into your neck, planting a delicate kiss over your pulse. “Thank you so much.”

“No need to thank me,” you say quietly, returning the kiss to the curve of her ear. “I want this too.”

Vi nods and gives you a firm squeeze before pulling away, but not too far so she can still keep you in her arms. She’s so overwhelmed; there’s so much she wants to say but all of it is tied at the back of her throat. The words aren’t coherent but they have meaning and Vi will try all she can to convey how precious that meaning is.

“Okay so,” you begin after you both sit in relaxed silence for a while. “I love you so much and you’re my everything but if that pasta’s mushy, I’ll never forgive you.”

“You lie,” Vi replies, nuzzling at your cheek. “You love me too much to hate me.”

“But I love pasta more,” you tease, your soft laughs muted by the gentle press of Vi’s lips against yours.

The pasta has gone soft but you don’t seem to mind, all too distracted by Vi's sweet kisses.

“So you’re officially trying for kids now?”” Jinx says one afternoon in the small cafe they often frequent. It's raining outside and there's a chill in the air that seeps into your bones and makes you want to stay in bed. That's where Vi wishes she was now, all curled up underneath the sheets with you.

“Yeah, we had a proper talk about it a few days ago,” Vi says. “Not that all the other talks weren't proper but our plans didn't have a start date.” She swirls the remaining dregs of coffee in her mug. “Now we're both ready and soon there's gonna be a kid in the picture.”

Jinx hums, taking a sip of whatever iced concoction she's gotten today. “I mean, it's a big thing,” she says around her straw. “Bringing a small human into the world. Plus babies are kinda gross with their uncontrollable bowel movements.” Her nose scrunches up. “Not to mention the crying and screaming and inability to talk for the first two years.”

Vi shrugs. “Yeah, but I don't give a shit about any of that.”

“Well, duh. Because you're with someone who's gonna make it worthwhile,” Jinx replies matter-of-factly. “It's kind of like being in love with the person of your dreams makes you more tolerable to things. Shocker.”

“You're already falling into your Cynical Aunt role.” Vi says, deadpan but smiles when Jinx chuckles.

“Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna love the shit out of that little goober,” Jinx says strongly. “Gonna be the best auntie in the world. Much better than Caitlyn or Mel, that's for sure.”

Vi makes a doubtful expression, an eyebrow raised, and raises her hands to placate when Jinx aims her butter knife at her.

“No, you'll be great,” Vi tells her and despite their jokes, she means it. She sees how Jinx is with kids; how she may not seem interested at first but then slowly opens up. Not to say that she connects with every child but when Jinx cares, she cares with her entire heart. So Vi knows that her children will be loved.

Jinx eyes her and takes another sip of her drink before saying, “There's something on your mind.”

Vi huffs. “How can you tell?”

“I'm your sister, we grew up together,” Jinx lists off. “I mean, ignore the fact that we didn't talk for seven years but I know you.” She finishes off her glass and pushes it to the side. “What's going on?”

“Do you really wanna know?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Vi chuckles, running a hand through her hair, before leaning back in her seat.

“I just…worry that I may not be a good parent.” She confesses after a moment.

“Why?” Jinx asks straight away, not giving Vi the time to wallow too deeply.

“Because…I mean, look what happened with us,” Vi says, gesturing between them. “I left you alone for seven years over a misunderstanding that took ages to fix. I was supposed to be there for you when our parents died. When Vander died and I…” Vi stops for a second, a heavy knot in her throat. “...I wasn't there and I'm just scared that I'm gonna fuck all of this up.”

Jinx stares at her for a bit, her expression unreadable, before she gives a big eye roll.

“You're so stupid,” she says loudly.

“Gee thanks.” Vi replies.

“You're so stupid because I don't think you realise how good of a big sister you were,” Jinx continues. “How good of a big sister you are. Life sucked for us for a long time, Vi. Especially after our parents and Vander died. Then the hits kept on coming and we had no say in how we survived for a long time. Yes, we got separated and yes, it made me so fucking mad at you, but you came back for me.” She takes a deep breath. “If we could redo the past, we would. But we can't. But things have been fixed and you've shown me time and time how capable you are.” She then laughs. “I mean, you've been in a committed relationship for twelve years, Vi. Most people don't last up to the five month mark.”

Vi tries to ignore the sting behind her eyes, the tears that slowly blur her vision.

“Plus you guys are totally in love,” Jinx says, a slight smile curving her lips. “It's absolutely nauseating but it's also kinda beautiful. You'll make a really good parent, Vi. You got the best of mom and our dads. And your partner kicks ass and is one of the best people I've ever met so…” Jinx shrugs. “Your children are gonna be so lucky to have you two as parents.”

There’s then a lull that falls between them and Vi's trying so hard not to cry. So she swallows back the knot in her throat, chasing it away with her last bit of coffee.

“Saying all of that must have driven you nuts,” Vi jokes weakly, reaching out to give Jinx's hand a grateful squeeze.

“Yeah, I feel gross and need to take a shower,” Jinx jokes in return, weak too and she squeezes Vi's hand just as tight. “Consider that your birthday and Christmas gift.”

Vi laughs loudly, eyes crinkling and mouth wide with the joy she feels.

“Fair enough.” She concedes, knowing damn well Jinx will surprise her with a homemade gift regardless.

“...So, gonna go home and blast your baby batter into—?”

“Jinx.”

A week or two pass after those conversations are held. Life maintains its norm, leaving you and Vi to continue your existence in its blissful way. It's comforting as it is confusing, because Vi knows that everything’s on the table now. Left wide open for the both of you to bask at.

Vi waits for your move, watches you with a keen eye as you drift throughout the days. She cooks the both of you dinner every other night, picks you up from work every day without fail and holds you close at night so you fall asleep. She does what she knows to do, does it because it has that essence of normalcy.

But that doesn't stop the urges from arising. It doesn't halt the need that bubbles in her stomach every time she sees you. It's overpowering, overwhelmingly so, and Vi fails to understand it until one late evening.

You're curled up beneath Vi’s arm as a movie plays on the television. It's a standard comedy, nothing utterly hilarious but enough to pull a few chuckles from both of you. Vi has hit optimal relaxation, all loose and soft due to you being so close. She can smell the scent of your body wash, drops her face into your hair so she can inhale what lies there. Your shampoo and something so uniquely you.

Her focus has since shifted from the movie, all of it on you as she notes how you’re barely paying attention to the screen. You’ve got this faraway look in your eyes, seemingly lost in thought and Vi wonders what's going through that pretty head of yours.

Then you do something unexpected; you shift a hand towards your stomach and…gently rub at it. The arc of your hand graceful as you follow the slope of your covered flesh. It looks soothing, similar to how you rub Vi's muscles on the days the flare-up of old injuries is too much. But it's also different and Vi's quick to notice it; she sees how your hand comes to lay at your lower stomach and—

Oh.

Vi's suddenly feeling a bit flustered.

A minute goes by, slowly ticking, and Vi tries not to give herself away. She tries not to reveal how the simple act of you rubbing your stomach has her heating up. How she's instantly imagining your stomach round with her child and the way your hand would look caressing the bump.

So tender, so gentle.

Something hot within Vi stirs, causing her to grow a bit restless. The movie captures her attention for a bit, but it hardly does much. Especially when you're pressed into her, still rubbing at your stomach and fuck, her sweatpants feel a little tight.

Because it isn't only about your stomach growing with life inside you. It's also about the transformation you'll grow through. How you'll get softer, how your scent will become a little milkier. How your breasts will swell in preparation and how you'd be a stunning image of how you belong to.

Vi.

Because it's Vi who'll do that to you; it's her who will fuck you full until you can't take anymore. It's Vi who will come and come and come in you until it takes and she sees the fruits of her labour.

It's her who'll…who'll breed you until you’re tongue's tied and your body's a wreck.

So beautiful and pilant and hers.

“...Vi?” Your voice calls her home, like a siren's song, and she's retrieved from her debauched thoughts. “Vi, sweetheart, the movie's done.”

Vi blinks at the television, the credits rolling down the dark screen. How long had she been spacing out for.

“Oh,” she says lamely and you chuckle, standing up from the couch. You tug at her arm, smiling tiredly, as you tilt your body towards the bedroom.

“I'm sleepy,” you say, giving one more tug before Vi’s standing on her feet. “Let's go to bed, we've got work in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” is all Vi can manage as she allows you to lead her to your bedroom.

Something new has clicked in her brain.

Something deep and primal at its core.

...She cannot talk to Jinx about this.

[dreamersworldduh]

HIS AWAKENING — PART 2

SUMMARY — Nate Jacobs embodies the quintessential all-American quarterback—athletic, commanding, and effortlessly attractive. Beneath the surface, however, lies a man riddled with inner conflict. His outward bravado conceals a fragile core shaped by toxic societal expectations, a broken family dynamic, and a deep struggle with his own identity. Nate's carefully constructed image masks a storm of repressed emotions, his intimidating presence serving as both armor and a warning to those who might venture too close.

That is, until Y/N entered his life. Strikingly handsome and unapologetically bold, Y/N exudes a magnetic confidence that demands attention the moment he walks into a room. His blend of charisma, sass, and fearless energy challenges everything Nate thought he knew about himself—and about the walls he's built to keep others out.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 12.9k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Here’s part two where things get spicy for this lovely duo. I hope you enjoy.

PREVIOUS PART! HIS AWAKENING

The cool air was a stark contrast to the heat still lingering on Y/N's skin from the party—and from Nate's touch. Their lips crashed together again, urgency threading through each movement as Nate pressed Y/N back against the door of their dorm room.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh between kisses, his hands fisting the front of Nate's hoodie as he tugged him closer. Nate's hands gripped Y/N's waist, fingers curling possessively around his hips, his broad frame effectively caging Y/N against the door.

"You were so dramatic about leaving," Nate muttered against Y/N's lips, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N smirked, tilting his head to deepen the kiss for just a moment before pulling back, breathless but still sharp-tongued. "I'm not making out in a disgusting frat house bathroom," he retorted. "Sticky floors, weird smells, God knows what on the walls—no thanks."

Nate chuckled, his breath fanning across Y/N's jaw as he pressed a lingering kiss just beneath his ear. "You're ridiculous," he murmured, but there was nothing but warmth in his voice.

"Practical," Y/N corrected, gasping when Nate's lips brushed the sensitive skin of his neck. "There's a difference."

With a low growl, Nate reached behind Y/N, fumbling blindly for the keycard. "Then let's be practical and get inside," he muttered, finally managing to unlock the door and push it open.

They stumbled into the dorm room, still tangled in each other. Y/N kicked the door shut behind them with a practiced ease, his back barely hitting the closed door before Nate surged forward, capturing his lips again in a heated kiss.

Y/N's fingers tugged at the hem of Nate's hoodie, slipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin. "This... is so much better," he mumbled between kisses, his voice breathy.

"Yeah?" Nate rasped, his hands sliding up Y/N's back, fingers splaying against bare skin as he tugged him even closer. "Because you're so into cleanliness, right?"

Y/N grinned wickedly, tilting his head just enough to nip at Nate's lower lip. "I have standards, QB," he teased, his tone playful but charged with meaning.

Nate's response was immediate—he pressed Y/N against the door, his grip tightening just enough to draw a soft gasp from him. "I'll show you standards," Nate growled, crashing their mouths together again, sending them spiraling into another heated, breathless kiss.

Y/N barely had time to react before Nate's large hands gripped his thighs, lifting him off the ground with effortless strength.

"Whoa—Nate," Y/N gasped, his words breaking into a breathless laugh as his arms instinctively wrapped around Nate's shoulders for balance.

Nate's smirk was devilish as he pressed Y/N's back against the door, his hands tightening their grip on Y/N's thighs to hold him in place. "What?" he murmured against Y/N's lips, his voice low and rough. "Afraid I'm gonna drop you?"

Y/N rolled his eyes, though his breath hitched when Nate shifted his grip, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Y/N's thighs. "No," he shot back, though the sharp edge of his voice was undercut by the flush rising in his cheeks. "I'm just surprised you didn't ask first—"

Whatever else Y/N was about to say dissolved into a sharp inhale as Nate leaned forward, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Y/N's neck.

"You talk too much," Nate growled, his voice muffled as he began trailing kisses along Y/N's neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine.

Y/N let out a soft moan, his head tilting back to give Nate more access. His fingers curled in the fabric of Nate's hoodie, holding on tightly as Nate's lips moved lower, finding a spot just above Y/N's collarbone that made him shudder.

"Jesus, Nate," Y/N whispered, his voice breathy and laced with something he couldn't quite name.

Nate didn't respond, his only answer the press of his teeth against Y/N's skin, followed by the gentle suction of his lips. A low, guttural sound escaped Nate's throat as he worked, leaving a dark mark that bloomed against Y/N's pale skin.

Y/N's breathing grew heavier, his thighs instinctively tightening around Nate's waist. "You're—" He gasped when Nate moved to a new spot, his tongue flicking out to soothe the sting of his teeth. "You're really going for it, huh?"

Nate pulled back just enough to meet Y/N's gaze, his lips curled into a smug grin. "You're not stopping me," he said, his voice dripping with confidence.

Y/N narrowed his eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush still burning across his cheeks. "Maybe because I—ah—" His sentence was cut off as Nate bit down lightly on another spot, drawing a soft moan from Y/N's lips.

The sound sent a surge of heat through Nate's chest, and he couldn't help the low groan that escaped him in response. "You're so sensitive," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower as he pressed another kiss to the rapidly darkening marks along Y/N's neck.

Y/N huffed out a laugh, though it was shaky. "Don't let it go to your head, QB," he said, his voice tinged with playful defiance.

But Nate didn't stop, his focus entirely on Y/N—on the way his body arched slightly against him, on the soft, breathless sounds escaping his lips, on the marks he was leaving behind like a claim.

"You're not as tough as you pretend to be," Nate murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear.

"Shut up," Y/N shot back, though his voice was weaker now, his fingers tightening their grip on Nate's shoulders.

Nate chuckled, the sound vibrating against Y/N's skin as he pressed another kiss to his neck. "Make me," he whispered, his tone equal parts challenge and promise.

Y/N let out a soft, shaky breath, tilting his head to give Nate better access. The pressure of Nate's lips, the occasional scrape of teeth, and the warmth of his breath sent shivers cascading down Y/N's spine.

Y/N, needing some semblance of control in the situation, shifted slightly, loosening the grip of his legs. Nate hesitated, his hands tightening on Y/N's thighs to steady him, his brows furrowing slightly. "What are you—" he started, but his words cut off as Y/N leaned back against the door and gently kicked off his shoes. They hit the floor with soft thuds, the action slow and deliberate, his gaze never leaving Nate's.

Nate pulled back just enough to meet Y/N's eyes, his expression a mix of confusion and intrigue. "What are you doing?" he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl.

Y/N smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes as his hands slid up Nate's chest. "Relax, QB," he said, his voice breathy but steady. "Just making things... easier."

Without waiting for a response, Y/N's fingers reached the collar of Nate's hoodie, curling around the fabric. He moved slowly, his touch deliberate as he began to push the jacket off Nate's broad shoulders. Nate's breath hitched slightly, but he didn't stop him.

The hoodie slipped down Nate's arms, falling in a heap on the floor. Beneath it, Nate's t-shirt clung to him, the thin fabric outlining every muscle. Y/N's hands lingered for a moment, his palms brushing over Nate's chest as if committing the feel of him to memory.

Nate swallowed hard, his jaw tightening as he looked down at Y/N. His hands, still gripping Y/N's thighs, flexed slightly, and his breathing grew heavier. "You always this bossy?" he asked, his tone tinged with both amusement and something deeper.

Y/N tilted his head, his smirk softening into a sly smile. "Only when it works," he replied, his voice low and teasing.

Nate let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly, but the intensity in his gaze never wavered. "You're something else, you know that?"

"Yeah," Y/N said, his voice quieter now, almost a whisper. His hands slid up to Nate's shoulders, pulling him closer. "And you're still holding me up like I weigh nothing. Show-off."

Nate's lips twitched into a small smirk of his own, but instead of replying, he leaned in, capturing Y/N's lips in another heated kiss. The moment their mouths met, the room seemed to shrink, leaving only the two of them and the electric pull between them.

As the kiss deepened, Nate shifted slightly, pressing Y/N more firmly against the door, and Y/N couldn't help the soft moan that escaped him. His hands gripped Nate's shoulders tightly, his earlier teasing replaced by something far more raw and unguarded.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Just them.

Suddenly, Nate's hands remained firm on Y/N's thighs as he pulled him away from the door, his strength evident in the ease with which he carried him. Y/N's legs tightened slightly around Nate's waist, the friction of the moment sending heat radiating between them.

Nate's gaze flicked toward his bed, the unspoken intent clear in his determined strides. But as they neared the edge of the mattress, Y/N gently pressed a hand to Nate's chest, his touch firm but not forceful.

"Wait," Y/N said, his voice soft but steady, his cheeks flushed with a mix of exertion and emotion.

Nate froze, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched Y/N's face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N didn't answer immediately. Instead, he let his legs slide down from around Nate's waist, his feet finding the floor. Nate's hands hovered instinctively at his sides, as if ready to steady him. But Y/N's movements were purposeful, his eyes locked onto Nate's with an intensity that made Nate's chest tighten.

Y/N took a small step back, his hands slipping from Nate's shoulders to rest on his chest. Slowly, deliberately, he trailed his fingers down the fabric of Nate's t-shirt, over the firm lines of his torso. His touch was light, teasing, as he traced the faint outlines of muscle.

Then, without breaking eye contact, Y/N dropped to his knees.

Nate's breath hitched audibly, his hands twitching at his sides as he looked down at Y/N, the sight before him rendering him momentarily speechless. Y/N knelt there, his movements fluid and deliberate, his fingers toying with the hem of Nate's shirt as a sly smirk played on his lips.

"Y/N..." Nate started, his voice catching in his throat. He wasn't sure if it was a question, a warning, or something else entirely.

Y/N tilted his head, his eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper. "Relax, QB," he murmured, his voice low and velvety. "I just figured I'd take the lead for once."

Nate's jaw tightened, his breathing shallow as he tried to process the shift in control. Y/N's fingers brushed over his waistband, light and teasing, and Nate couldn't help the way his body reacted, his hands instinctively moving to Y/N's shoulders for balance.

The moment hung heavy between them, charged with anticipation and an undeniable heat. For Nate, every nerve in his body felt alive, his focus entirely on Y/N—on the way he looked up at him, the way his touch sent shivers down his spine.

"Y/N," Nate said again, his voice softer this time, filled with a mix of restraint and longing.

Y/N's smirk softened into something more genuine, his hands stilling as he met Nate's gaze head-on. "I've got you," he said simply, his voice carrying both reassurance and a quiet confidence that left Nate reeling.

Nate stood frozen, his hands resting heavily on Y/N's shoulders, his breathing uneven as Y/N knelt before him. The faint hum of the dormitory's fluorescent lights was the only sound, but it was drowned out by the rush of blood in Nate's ears.

Y/N's fingers moved with deliberate slowness, brushing against the waistband of Nate's jeans, toying with the button for a moment before undoing it with a deft flick of his fingers. His eyes flicked upward, meeting Nate's with a mischievous glint as he gripped the zipper tab, pausing just long enough to make Nate's breath hitch.

"You're awfully quiet, QB," Y/N teased, his voice low and silky, the corners of his lips curving into a knowing smirk.

Nate swallowed hard, his hands tightening slightly on Y/N's shoulders. "Y/N..." he began, but his voice was thick, his words trailing off as Y/N slowly dragged the zipper down, the sound loud in the stillness of the room.

Nate's jeans loosened around his hips, revealing the band of his boxers beneath. Y/N let his hands linger, brushing over the fabric teasingly before tugging the jeans down just enough to expose more of Nate's boxers. The bulge beneath the thin fabric was undeniable, his arousal straining against the material, and Y/N's smirk deepened at the sight.

"You've been holding out on me," Y/N murmured, leaning forward until his lips hovered just above Nate's clothed length. His warm breath ghosted over the sensitive area, drawing a sharp inhale from Nate.

"Y/N..." Nate's voice was low, almost a growl, but there was a raw edge of vulnerability in it that made Y/N pause for a moment, his smirk softening.

"Relax," Y/N whispered, his voice steady but laced with playful reassurance. "I told you—I've got you."

And with that, he pressed a soft, teasing kiss against the fabric of Nate's boxers, right over the swollen length beneath. The contact was light, almost maddeningly so, but it was enough to draw a quiet, unrestrained groan from Nate's throat.

Y/N continued, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending jolts of heat through Nate's body. The warmth of Y/N's lips against the thin fabric was a maddening combination of pleasure and restraint, and Nate's grip on Y/N's shoulders tightened, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath.

"You're... driving me crazy," Nate managed to say, his voice hoarse, his usual control slipping with each passing second.

"That's the idea," Y/N quipped, his tone playful but dripping with intent. He kissed his way along Nate's dick, his lips trailing from the base to the tip, the thin barrier of fabric only heightening the sensation.

Nate's head tipped back slightly, his hands slipping from Y/N's shoulders to grip the edge of the nearby desk for support. His knuckles turned white as he fought to keep himself steady, every nerve in his body alight with sensation.

Y/N's lips lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his gaze flicking up to meet Nate's. His smirk returned, equal parts teasing and self-assured. "You good up there?" he asked, his voice dripping with mischief.

Nate looked down at him, his usually sharp eyes now clouded with a haze of want. "Y/N," he said again, his voice firmer now, though it trembled at the edges.

Y/N chuckled softly, his hands sliding up Nate's thighs. "Don't worry, QB," he said, his tone softer now, more intimate. "We're just getting started."

Y/N's fingers lingered on the waistband of Nate's boxers, his touch teasingly light as he toyed with the elastic. Nate stood above him, his breathing uneven, his hands now gripping the edge of the desk behind him for support.

Y/N glanced up, his sharp eyes meeting Nate's, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "You're not nervous, are you?" he asked, his tone light, though it carried an edge of mischief.

"Not even a little," Nate replied, his voice low and steady, but the way his chest rose and fell betrayed the truth.

Y/N hummed softly, his fingers curling into the fabric of Nate's boxers. With a deliberate slowness that could only be described as torturous, he pulled the waistband downward, just enough to free Nate's swollen dick.

The sight before him made Y/N pause, his usual quick wit momentarily silenced. Nate's size was, frankly, impressive—more than impressive. For a brief second, Y/N's expression faltered, his surprise flashing across his face before he quickly schooled his features into something more composed.

"Damn," Y/N murmured under his breath, his voice almost inaudible, but loud enough for Nate to hear.

Nate's lips twitched into a smirk, the kind of self-assured grin that sent a flicker of both amusement and irritation through Y/N. "Something you want to say?" Nate asked, his voice deep and laced with unmistakable smugness.

Y/N tilted his head, his smirk returning as he looked up at Nate with a practiced nonchalance. "You're not bad, QB," he said, his tone casual but with just enough bite to keep Nate on his toes. "I'll give you that."

"Not bad?" Nate echoed, raising an eyebrow as his smirk widened. "Pretty sure that's not what you were thinking just now."

Y/N rolled his eyes, though the slight flush on his cheeks gave him away. "Don't let it go to your head," he quipped, his hand wrapping loosely around Nate's length, his thumb brushing along the heated skin. "Confidence isn't always a good look."

Nate let out a low, shaky breath, his smirk faltering for a moment as his head tipped back slightly. "You talk a lot," he managed to say, though his voice had lost some of its usual bite.

Y/N chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to make Nate's breath hitch. "And you're pretty full of yourself," he shot back, his smirk softening into something more playful. "Let's see if you can keep it together, QB."

For once, Nate didn't have a comeback, his focus entirely on Y/N's touch as the tension between them reached a fever pitch.

Y/N's smirk didn't waver as his fingers tightened slightly around Nate's dick, his touch deliberate and calculated. The slight hitch in Nate's breath was all the encouragement Y/N needed.

"Relax, QB," Y/N murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned forward.

Nate's jaw clenched, his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the desk for balance. He didn't respond, but the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths betrayed the effect Y/N had on him.

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N leaned closer, his tongue darting out to flick lightly against the tip of Nate's swollen dick. The touch was featherlight, almost teasing, but it drew a sharp inhale from Nate, his hips jerking forward slightly in response.

Y/N chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Nate's skin as he licked again, this time trailing his tongue slowly along the underside of Nate's dick. His movements were unhurried, methodical, and maddeningly precise, as if savoring the way Nate's body responded to him.

"Jesus, Y/N," Nate muttered, his voice rough, his head tipping back slightly as he fought to maintain some semblance of control.

Y/N smirked, the corners of his lips curling as he pulled back slightly. "What's the matter, QB?" he asked, his voice thick with mock innocence. "Not what you were expecting?"

Nate let out a low, shaky breath, his gaze dropping to meet Y/N's. His usual confidence was faltering, his composure unraveling with each skilled flick of Y/N's tongue. "You're—" he started, but his words caught in his throat as Y/N wrapped his lips around the tip, applying just enough pressure to make Nate's knees threaten to buckle.

Y/N hummed softly, the vibration sending a shiver through Nate's entire body. His hands gripped the desk even tighter as Y/N worked, his tongue gliding over every inch of him with practiced ease. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to drive Nate closer to the edge without giving him the satisfaction of falling over it.

"Where the hell did you learn—" Nate started, his voice strained, but he didn't finish the sentence, his breath hitching again as Y/N's tongue swirled expertly around him.

Y/N pulled back just enough to speak, his voice dripping with amusement. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he teased, before leaning back in, his movements smooth and unrelenting.

Nate's smirk was long gone, replaced by a mixture of frustration and something deeper, more raw. His fingers flexed against the desk as he looked down at Y/N, his breath coming in shallow gasps. "You're... impossible," he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

Y/N glanced up at him, his eyes glinting with mischief as he slowed his movements, drawing out each moment with excruciating precision. "And you're easy to impress," he quipped, his lips brushing against Nate's shaft as he spoke.

Nate let out a low growl, his head tipping back as he let the sensation take over, every nerve in his body alive with the intensity of the moment. For the first time, he had no control—and he didn't care.

Every flick of Y/N's tongue and deliberate movement of his lips unraveling Nate's composure piece by piece. Nate's grip on the desk behind him tightened, his knuckles white as he struggled to stay upright, his legs threatening to give out beneath him.

The moment Y/N took him fully into his mouth, the warmth enveloping him, Nate let out a low, guttural groan that echoed through the room. His head tipped back, his eyes squeezing shut as his lips parted in a breathless exhale.

"Fuck, Y/N," Nate muttered, his voice deep and ragged, the sound tinged with both desperation and awe.

Y/N smirked slightly around him, his movements calculated as he hollowed his cheeks, increasing the intensity. His tongue worked expertly, tracing every contour, every sensitive spot he'd quickly learned to exploit. He glanced up briefly, catching Nate's expression—a mixture of pleasure and disbelief—and felt a surge of satisfaction.

Nate's groans grew louder, the sound vibrating in his chest as his free hand instinctively reached out, his fingers threading through Y/N's hair. He wasn't forceful, but his grip was firm, grounding himself in the sensation as his hips pressed forward ever so slightly.

The warmth of Y/N's mouth, combined with the skilled way his tongue moved, sent shivers racing up Nate's spine. His breathing was ragged, each exhale punctuated by soft curses and murmured praises.

"You're... so fucking good at this," Nate managed to say between breaths, his voice cracking slightly as another groan tore from his throat. His vulnerability in the moment, the rawness of his reaction, sent a thrill through Y/N that spurred him on.

Y/N's hands rested firmly on Nate's hips, steadying him as he continued, his movements unrelenting. The faint scrape of his nails through the fabric of Nate's shirt added another layer of sensation, one that had Nate gasping audibly.

"Y/N," Nate groaned again, his voice breaking into something almost pleading. His usual confidence had completely melted away, replaced by unfiltered need. "Jesus Christ, you're—"

Y/N pulled back slightly, his lips dragging slowly along Nate's length, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. "Speechless, QB?" he teased, his voice low and husky, his breath warm against Nate's skin.

Nate's jaw clenched, his eyes opening just enough to glare down at Y/N, though the effect was ruined by the flush creeping up his neck and the way his chest heaved. "You're... ridiculous," he muttered, though there was no heat behind the words.

"Maybe," Y/N murmured before taking him back into his mouth, his pace quickening just enough to draw another sharp groan from Nate, his entire body tensing in response.

Every sound Nate made—every groan, every breathless expletive—only fueled Y/N's determination to push him further, to see just how far he could unravel the man who prided himself on control. And as Nate's voice filled the room, raw and unrestrained, Y/N knew he was succeeding.

Nate gripped onto the desk behind him as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. His broad shoulders, usually squared and confident, slumped slightly under the weight of the moment, his head tipped back, his chest heaving.

But none of that compared to the sight before him.

Y/N was on his knees, a picture of deliberate poise and control. His movements were fluid, each flick of his tongue and glide of his lips so purposeful it felt like a carefully crafted symphony, each note resonating deep within Nate. The dim light caught the angles of Y/N's face, the faint sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his lashes framed his half-lidded eyes as he glanced up at Nate with something that felt far too knowing.

Nate's stomach twisted—not in discomfort, but in something he couldn't quite name. It wasn't just physical; it wasn't just the way Y/N was touching him. There was something deeper, something far more unsettling about the way his chest ached when he looked down at him.

Damn it, Nate thought, his jaw tightening as he tried to focus on anything but the warmth pooling in his chest.

Y/N was breathtaking like this, every movement dripping with confidence, every smirk tugging at the corner of his lips challenging Nate in ways he wasn't used to. The sharp wit, the audaciousness that always left Nate either flustered or infuriated, now felt like a magnet pulling him in further than he wanted to go.

The thought sent a pang of panic through him.

No. This isn't that, Nate told himself, though even in his own head the words sounded hollow. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He wasn't supposed to notice the faint blush across Y/N's cheeks, the way his hair fell messily against his forehead, or the look of determination in his eyes as though he were intent on unraveling Nate completely.

But he noticed all of it. He felt all of it. And for one terrifying second, Nate almost let himself admit it.

The word love floated at the edge of his mind, soft and insistent, but Nate shoved it aside with a force that almost felt violent. He couldn't go there—not now, not ever.

Instead, he tried to focus on the heat of the moment, on the physical sensations that were enough to leave him gasping for breath. He let his gaze drop to Y/N again, taking in the sight of him, every sharp edge and soft curve illuminated by the dim lighting.

And just for a fleeting moment, Nate let himself feel it.

Maybe this is what it's supposed to feel like, the thought whispered, unbidden, before he squashed it down again.

"Y/N," Nate murmured, his voice rough and low, the word falling from his lips like a confession.

Y/N glanced up at him, his smirk shifting into something softer, something almost tender. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice warm and teasing, his lips brushing against Nate's skin as he spoke.

Nate hesitated, his throat tightening around the words he wanted to say but couldn't. He let his fingers brush against the edge of the desk again, his grip faltering as he forced a smirk back onto his face.

"Nothing," Nate finally said, his voice a little too strained, a little too hollow. "Just... keep going."

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn't push, his knowing smile returning as he leaned back in. Nate's breath hitched again, and for the rest of the night, he let himself drown in Y/N's touch, letting the feeling replace the words he couldn't bring himself to say.

But deep down, Nate knew the truth. It was there in the way his chest tightened, in the way his thoughts kept circling back to Y/N's face, his touch, his voice. And as much as Nate tried to ignore it, he couldn't help but feel the weight of it settle in his chest.

Almost in love, he thought again, though he wouldn't admit it. Not to Y/N. Not even to himself.

Y/N continued his deliberate work. His mouth moved over Nate's dick with practiced precision, every flick of his tongue and every deliberate pull of his lips sending shudders through Nate's body. The heat was overwhelming, radiating between them in waves that seemed to build with each passing second.

Nate's grip on the desk tightened, his knuckles white, his breathing ragged and uneven. His broad chest heaved, the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his skin as he tilted his head back, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve in his body felt alive, hyper-aware of the warmth and pressure Y/N was providing.

"Y/N," Nate groaned, his voice hoarse and unsteady. The sound was almost a plea, his usual confidence stripped away as the sensations overwhelmed him.

Y/N didn't stop, his hands steady on Nate's hips as he continued with deliberate care, his tongue tracing every sensitive spot with maddening precision. His eyes flicked upward, catching the expression on Nate's face—jaw slack, lips parted, brows furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and disbelief.

Smirking slightly, Y/N pulled back just enough to let his breath fan across Nate's length, his voice low and teasing. "What's the matter, QB?" he asked, his tone laced with playful arrogance. "Can't handle it?"

Nate let out a strained chuckle, though it sounded more like a groan. "You're... annoying," he managed, his hands twitching as though fighting the urge to grab Y/N and pull him closer.

Y/N's smirk deepened, his lips brushing against Nate's heated skin as he whispered, "And you're loving every moment of this." He moved again, his mouth enveloping Nate with renewed focus, drawing a sharp inhale and another low groan from him.

But suddenly, as if something snapped inside him, Nate's hands moved. Without warning, he gripped Y/N firmly by the shoulders, the strength in his fingers undeniable. Before Y/N could process what was happening, Nate's arms flexed, and he lifted Y/N effortlessly off the floor.

"Whoa—Nate!" Y/N yelped, his hands instinctively gripping Nate's forearms as his feet left the ground. His protest was cut short as Nate turned and set him down on the edge of the desk, the movement quick but controlled.

The cool surface of the desk contrasted sharply with the heat between them, sending a shiver through Y/N as he adjusted to the new position. Nate leaned in, his hands braced on either side of Y/N, his towering frame caging him in. Their faces were close now, close enough for Y/N to feel Nate's warm breath against his lips.

"What the hell was that for?" Y/N asked, his voice breathless, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed that he wasn't entirely annoyed.

Nate smirked, his gaze intense as it locked onto Y/N's. "You were having too much fun," he said, his voice low and gravelly, laced with something darker. "Thought I'd even the playing field."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, though his lips quirked into a sly grin. "Even the playing field?" he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "Big talk for someone who could barely stand a second ago."

Nate let out a low chuckle, his hands sliding to Y/N's hips, his grip firm but careful. "Keep talking, Y/N," he murmured, his tone both a warning and a challenge. "See where it gets you."

Y/N opened his mouth to respond, but the words dissolved into a sharp inhale as Nate leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated, urgent, and consuming, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt about who was in control now.

Y/N's hands gripped Nate's shirt tightly, pulling him closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervor. The desk creaked slightly under their weight, the room filled with the sound of their breaths mingling, the tension between them snapping like a live wire.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the party they'd left behind, not the lingering questions in Nate's mind, not the growing heat between them. All that existed was the here and now, and neither of them was willing to let it go.

The kiss broke with a sudden, deliberate motion, leaving both Nate and Y/N breathless. Nate leaned back, his hands lingering on the desk on either side of Y/N as he stared down at him, his chest heaving. Y/N's lips were slightly swollen from the kiss, his cheeks flushed with heat, his eyes burning with a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

Without a word, Nate reached for the hem of his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly before pulling it over his head in one fluid motion. The action was unhurried but confident, his movements purposeful as he tossed the shirt aside. His skin glowed faintly under the dim dormitory light, every muscle of his torso carved with a precision that could only be earned through years of discipline and effort.

Next came his shoes, kicked off carelessly to land somewhere near the desk. Then his pants, unzipped and discarded with a practiced ease that made it clear he had no time for hesitation. Finally, Nate hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, sliding them down slowly, deliberately, until he stood before Y/N completely bare.

The room seemed to still as Y/N's gaze swept over him, lingering on the defined ridges of his abs, the broad expanse of his chest, the sharp line of his jaw—and lower still, where Nate's confidence was impossible to ignore.

Nate's smirk widened as he caught the way Y/N's eyes flickered up and down, the brief widening of his pupils betraying what words didn't. "You like what you see?" Nate asked, his voice low and teasing, dripping with the kind of cockiness that only he could pull off.

Y/N's mouth quirked into a small, sly smile, though the flush on his cheeks betrayed his composure. "You're definitely not shy, QB," he retorted, his voice carrying a hint of breathlessness.

"Why would I be?" Nate countered, stepping closer, his body radiating heat and confidence. "When you've got this?" He gestured to himself with a faint tilt of his chin, his tone playful but tinged with pride.

Y/N rolled his eyes, though his grin deepened. "Careful," he said, his tone mockingly serious. "That ego's getting too big for this room."

Nate chuckled, his smirk softening as his hands reached out to Y/N, gently gripping his arms. "We'll see who's talking about egos by the end of this," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that sent shivers down Y/N's spine.

With a deliberate slowness, Nate pulled Y/N to his feet, their bodies just inches apart. His hands moved to the hem of Y/N's shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of Y/N's stomach as he began to lift it. He took his time, his eyes never leaving Y/N's as he slipped the shirt over his head, tossing it to join the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Next came Y/N's pants. Nate's hands slid down Y/N's sides, his touch firm but careful, guiding Y/N's hips forward as his fingers hooked into the waistband. He didn't rush, instead pulling the fabric down inch by inch, his lips curling into a smirk as more of Y/N's skin was revealed.

"You're quiet," Nate said softly, his voice teasing as he knelt slightly to pull the pants down completely, leaving Y/N in nothing but his underwear. "Not like you."

Y/N's breath hitched slightly as Nate's hands brushed against his thighs, his skin tingling where Nate's fingers lingered. "Just... enjoying the show," Y/N shot back, his voice quieter than usual but still carrying its usual edge of defiance.

Nate let out a low chuckle, his hands slipping to the waistband of Y/N's underwear. He tugged at it gently, his eyes darkening as his gaze swept over Y/N's body. "Your turn," Nate murmured, his smirk softening into something more intimate as he began to slide the fabric down, exposing Y/N fully to the warm air of the room.

The tension between them was palpable, each movement deliberate and charged with unspoken energy. When they were finally both stripped bare, Nate stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over Y/N with a mixture of admiration and hunger.

"Looks like I'm not the only one with something to be cocky about," Nate said, his smirk returning, though there was a warmth in his tone that made the comment feel less like a tease and more like a genuine compliment.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, his smirk mirroring Nate's as he closed the gap between them, their bodies brushing. "Told you that ego was too big," Y/N murmured, his voice low.

"Guess you'll just have to put me in my place," Nate replied, his hands finding Y/N's waist.

Their bodies were flush against each other, skin slick and warm, each breath they shared fanning the heat between them. Nate's hands found their way to Y/N's waist, his fingers gripping firmly as he pulled Y/N even closer, their bodies perfectly aligned.

Y/N gasped softly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he felt Nate's dick graze against his own. The sensation was maddeningly intimate, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through him.

Nate's lips brushed against Y/N's ear, the warmth of his breath making Y/N's knees threaten to give out. "You feel that?" Nate murmured, his voice low and rough, each word dripping with seductive intent. "That's all because of you."

Y/N's hands pressed against Nate's chest, his fingers curling slightly, but he didn't push him away. Instead, he tilted his head, giving Nate better access as his lips ghosted along the sensitive skin just below Y/N's ear.

"You're driving me insane, Y/N," Nate whispered, his voice a mix of frustration and raw desire. His grip tightened, his large hands sliding down to Y/N's hips before moving to firmly grasp his ass. The roughness of his touch drew a sharp gasp from Y/N, who arched into him instinctively.

Nate smirked at the reaction, his confidence growing as he kneaded the soft flesh with his hands, his fingers digging in just enough to leave a lingering heat. "You like that, don't you?" he teased, his tone laced with a wicked edge. "You like the way I touch you. The way I make you feel."

Y/N's head fell forward, his forehead resting against Nate's shoulder as his breathing grew heavier. "Nate..." he murmured, his voice shaky but not pleading, a challenge wrapped in soft surrender.

"What?" Nate replied, his smirk audible in his voice as he pressed their bodies closer, their dicks grazing again. The friction was almost too much, the sensation pulling a low groan from Nate's throat. "Can't handle it?"

Y/N's breath hitched, and he tilted his head back, his lips dangerously close to Nate's as his eyes burned with defiance. "You're the one losing control," he shot back, though his voice wavered, his body betraying the composure he was trying to maintain.

Nate's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's jaw before moving back to his ear. "Losing control?" he whispered, his tone dark and seductive. His hands squeezed Y/N's ass again, pulling him even closer, their bodies practically molding together. "No, Y/N. This is me in control. Every sound you make, every time your body reacts to mine—that's all me."

Y/N's sharp intake of breath was all the confirmation Nate needed. He shifted slightly, the deliberate motion creating just enough friction between them to make Y/N let out a soft, unguarded moan.

Nate chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against Y/N's skin. "That's what I thought," he murmured, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear again as he continued his whispered assault. "You're mine tonight, Y/N. Every inch of you."

Y/N's response was lost in another gasp as Nate pressed them together again, the heat and intensity of the moment consuming them both, leaving nothing but raw, unspoken desire in its wake.

Nate lifted Y/N effortlessly, his strength undeniable. He set Y/N down on the edge of the desk with deliberate care, his body slotting between Y/N's legs as he leaned forward, their foreheads briefly brushing together.

Y/N let out a soft gasp, his thighs instinctively wrapping around Nate's hips to pull him closer. The heat between them was undeniable, their skin flushed and slick as they pressed together, Nate's broad frame practically engulfing Y/N's.

Nate reached down, his hands sliding along Y/N's thighs, his grip possessive and firm as he aligned their bodies. The room was silent except for the sound of their shallow breaths and the faint creak of the desk beneath them.

Just as Nate positioned himself, Y/N placed a hand on Nate's chest, his lips curling into a teasing smirk. "Top drawer," he said, his voice breathy but playful. "There's lube in there. Might make things easier, you know."

Nate paused for a beat, his sharp eyes locking onto Y/N's. The corner of his mouth twitched into a cocky grin, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. "Appreciate the offer," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with confidence. "But I've got my own way."

Before Y/N could respond, Nate brought one hand to his dick, wrapping his fingers around it with practiced ease. His other hand cupped Y/N's hip to keep him steady as he spit into his palm, the sound sharp and deliberate. Y/N's eyes widened slightly, his gaze fixed on Nate's every movement as Nate spread the moisture along his dick, his hand moving with slow, deliberate strokes.

The sight was hypnotizing—Nate's muscles flexing with each motion, the gleam of his length catching the dim light, and the self-assured smirk on his face as he watched Y/N watching him. "See?" Nate said, his tone laced with teasing arrogance. "Told you I've got this."

Y/N's cheeks flushed, but he didn't look away. His lips parted slightly as he exhaled a shaky breath, the anticipation winding tighter in his chest. "Always so sure of yourself," Y/N murmured, his voice softer now, though there was a hint of challenge in his tone.

Nate's smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear. "Because I know exactly what I'm doing," he whispered, his voice rough with intent.

Y/N shivered at the sound, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk as he tilted his head back, exposing the curve of his neck. Nate didn't waste another moment, his hands sliding to Y/N's hips to position him properly, his touch firm but careful.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Nate adjusted his stance, his movements unhurried, every action deliberate. The tension between them was nearly unbearable, the air thick with expectation as Nate lined himself up, his focus entirely on Y/N.

"Ready?" Nate asked, his voice softer now, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his usual confidence.

Y/N met his gaze, his own smirk fading into something more genuine. "Always," he whispered, his voice steady despite the tremor in his chest.

With that, Nate pressed forward, his hands gripping Y/N's hips with a mix of control and urgency. Y/N's head tilted back, his lips parting as he let out a soft, shaky moan, the sound breaking the stillness of the room. It was quiet but raw, laced with pleasure and vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of satisfaction straight through Nate.

Nate froze for a moment, his smirk deepening as he processed the sound. His eyes locked onto Y/N, who was flushed and breathless, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The sight of Y/N like this—completely undone, his body arching against the desk—was enough to stoke Nate's confidence to a fiery peak.

"Like that?" Nate murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned forward, his breath warm against Y/N's ear. His fingers tightened on Y/N's hips, holding him firmly in place as he pulled back slightly, only to push forward again with deliberate precision.

Y/N gasped, his hands gripping the edge of the desk for stability as Nate began to find a rhythm. His voice came out in breathless fragments. "Nate..." he moaned softly, the sound barely above a whisper but filled with enough heat to make Nate's stomach twist.

The smirk on Nate's face grew as he took in every detail—the way Y/N's back arched just enough to meet his movements, the way his thighs tensed around Nate's hips, the faint sheen of sweat forming along his skin. "That's it," Nate said, his voice rough and commanding. "Let me hear you."

He adjusted his stance slightly, his hips snapping forward at a faster pace. The desk creaked faintly beneath them, the sound mingling with the soft moans escaping Y/N's lips. Every thrust drew another reaction from Y/N, each one more unguarded than the last, his voice rising in pitch as Nate pushed him further toward the edge.

"Fuck, Y/N," Nate growled, his smirk faltering for a moment as the pleasure coursing through him became almost overwhelming. He gritted his teeth, his focus locked entirely on the way Y/N's body moved with him, the way he clenched around him with every thrust.

Y/N let out another soft, drawn-out moan, his hands scrambling to find purchase on Nate's shoulders. His fingers curled into the firm muscle there, holding on tightly as his head fell forward, his breath hot against Nate's neck. "You're—" Y/N started, his words dissolving into a gasp as Nate's pace quickened further, his movements becoming more intense.

"What was that?" Nate teased, his voice rough but steady as he dipped his head to brush his lips against Y/N's ear. "You can't even finish a sentence, can you?"

Y/N's response was another soft moan, his fingers digging deeper into Nate's shoulders as he tilted his head back, exposing the line of his throat. Nate couldn't help himself—he leaned in, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin there, his teeth grazing lightly as he continued to thrust.

The combination of Nate's movements and his teasing touch sent Y/N spiraling, his body tensing and trembling as the pleasure mounted. "Nate..." he gasped again, his voice cracking slightly as he clung to him.

Nate's smirk returned, but his movements remained relentless, every thrust calculated to drive Y/N further over the edge. "That's it," he murmured, his voice almost a growl. "Keep making those sounds for me."

And Y/N did, his moans filling the room as Nate's pace quickened, their bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt both chaotic and perfectly synchronized. Nate's cocky exterior may have been intact, but the way his jaw clenched and his breathing grew heavier betrayed the fact that Y/N was pushing him to his limits, too.

This was more than physical—it was raw, unfiltered, and completely consuming, leaving neither of them any room to think about anything but the fire that burned between them.

Y/N's mind was a haze, every coherent thought drowned out by the waves of pleasure crashing through him. He knew Nate had said something—teasing him, challenging him, that smug tone laced with arrogance—but the words barely registered. The only thing Y/N could focus on was the heat of Nate's body pressed against his, the firm grip of Nate's hands on his hips, and the relentless rhythm that left him gasping for air.

His lips parted as if to respond, but no sound came out except for a soft, breathless moan. The pleasure was all-consuming, leaving Y/N completely at Nate's mercy. His fingers curled tightly around the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he tried to ground himself against the overwhelming sensation.

Nate's voice came again, low and teasing, right against Y/N's ear. "What's the matter, Y/N?" he murmured, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "You always have something to say. Cat got your tongue?"

Y/N wanted to snap back, wanted to match Nate's cocky energy with a sharp retort, but the words were caught in his throat. Another thrust from Nate sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through him, his back arching involuntarily as his head tipped back. The sound that escaped him was more of a gasp than a response, his body trembling under Nate's relentless pace.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Nate growled, his hands tightening on Y/N's hips as he pulled him closer, their bodies moving perfectly in sync. "You're too far gone, aren't you? Can't even think straight."

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, though it dissolved almost immediately into a whimper as Nate shifted slightly, hitting a spot that made his vision blur. "N-Nate..." he gasped, his voice shaky and weak, barely audible over the sound of their bodies moving together.

Nate smirked, the corners of his lips curving upward as he leaned in, his breath hot against Y/N's neck. "That's all you've got?" he murmured, his tone both mocking and tender, the combination enough to make Y/N's knees feel like jelly.

Y/N tried again to form a response, his lips moving soundlessly for a moment before another thrust sent him spiraling, his grip on the desk tightening as his body shuddered. "I—I..." he stammered, but whatever thought he'd been trying to voice was wiped away by another wave of pleasure.

"That's what I thought," Nate said again, his smirk widening as he watched Y/N unravel beneath him. "Blinded by it, aren't you? Don't worry—I've got you."

And Y/N, for all his usual wit and defiance, could do nothing but cling to Nate's words and the overwhelming sensation, his mind and body completely at the mercy of the pleasure Nate was giving him.

Nate's hands gripped Y/N's thighs firmly, his strong fingers pressing into the soft flesh as he adjusted his stance. With a low, guttural groan, he bent slightly, his muscles flexing as he hooked Y/N's legs around his waist.

"Hold on," Nate murmured, his voice rough and breathy, carrying both a warning and a promise.

Y/N instinctively wrapped his arms around Nate's shoulders, his fingers curling into the fabric of Nate's damp shirt. His legs tightened around Nate's hips, locking him in place, but it did little to prepare him for what came next.

With one smooth motion, Nate lifted him, his powerful arms supporting Y/N's weight as if it were nothing. The movement caused Y/N to gasp sharply, the sudden shift making him hyperaware of the way Nate was still buried deep inside him. The stretch, the pressure—it sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through Y/N's body, leaving him breathless.

Nate smirked, his confidence only growing as he felt Y/N tremble in his grasp. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. "I've got you."

Y/N barely had time to respond before Nate began moving him, sliding him up his length with a deliberate slowness before pulling him back down. The sensation was intense, every movement sending sparks through Y/N's body as he clung tightly to Nate.

"Oh, my God," Y/N gasped, his head falling back as his body arched. His nails dug into Nate's shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto as Nate set a steady rhythm, lifting and lowering him with practiced ease.

Nate's grip tightened, his strong hands guiding Y/N's movements with precision. His own breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he watched Y/N's reactions. The sight of Y/N like this—completely undone, his head tilted back, his lips parted in breathless moans—was enough to make Nate's control waver.

"You feel so fucking good," Nate muttered, his voice rough and unsteady as he shifted slightly, angling his thrusts to hit deeper. The change drew a sharp cry from Y/N, whose thighs tightened reflexively around Nate's waist.

"Shit—Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice breaking as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. His body moved in perfect sync with Nate's, each slide and thrust pushing him closer to the edge.

Nate grinned through his own ragged breaths, his smirk tinged with something softer as he leaned in, pressing his forehead against Y/N's. "I've got you," he murmured again, his voice a little quieter, but no less certain.

Y/N's hands slid to the back of Nate's neck, his fingers tangling in his hair as he held on tightly. The room felt like it was spinning, the only grounding force the steady strength of Nate's movements and the heat of his touch.

"Don't stop," Y/N whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with urgency.

Nate let out a low chuckle, his grip on Y/N tightening even further. "Wasn't planning on it," he replied, his tone laced with determination as he quickened his pace, driving them both toward the edge with every deliberate motion.

The heat in the room was almost unbearable, the air thick with the mingling scents of sweat and desire. At some point, their frantic movements had carried them off the desk and onto the floor, the hard surface cool against their heated skin. Neither of them seemed to notice or care. Their focus was entirely on each other, their bodies entangled in a rhythm that had long since blurred the lines between urgency and passion.

Y/N was straddling Nate's lap, his back arched as he leaned against Nate's broad chest for support. Nate's arms were wrapped tightly around him, one hand gripping Y/N's hip with bruising force while the other slid up to rest lightly on his neck. The possessive hold sent a thrill through Y/N, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as Nate's hips thrust upward in a relentless, unyielding rhythm.

The sounds of their movements filled the room—the soft slap of skin against skin, the creak of the floor beneath them, and the unrestrained moans that spilled from Y/N's lips. His hands braced against Nate's thighs, his nails digging into the firm muscle as he tried to ground himself against the overwhelming sensations.

"Look at you," Nate murmured, his voice low and husky, the words brushing hot against Y/N's ear. "Completely falling apart for me."

Y/N shuddered at the sound, his body arching further into Nate's chest as another wave of pleasure coursed through him. "N-Nate..." he gasped, his voice trembling, though whether it was from exertion or raw emotion, even he wasn't sure.

Nate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against Y/N's back as he leaned closer, his lips grazing the shell of Y/N's ear. "You feel so fucking good," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "You're perfect like this. Taking everything I give you."

Y/N let out a soft, breathless moan, his head falling back against Nate's shoulder. The angle exposed the curve of his neck, and Nate didn't waste the opportunity. His lips trailed along Y/N's throat, leaving a path of heated kisses that made Y/N's body tremble.

"Can't get enough of you," Nate murmured, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just beneath Y/N's jaw. His hand on Y/N's neck tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him who was in control. "The way you move, the way you sound... it's all mine."

The possessiveness in Nate's voice sent a shiver down Y/N's spine, his body responding instinctively as he arched even further, pressing himself closer to Nate. His legs trembled, the relentless thrust of Nate's hips pushing him closer to the edge with every movement.

"Nate, I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the words dissolved into another moan, his voice cracking as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed him.

"That's it," Nate growled, his grip on Y/N's hip tightening as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting a spot that made Y/N cry out. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back."

Y/N didn't. His moans grew louder, more desperate, his hands clawing at Nate's thighs as he tilted his head back to meet Nate's gaze. The raw hunger in Nate's eyes was almost too much to bear, but Y/N couldn't look away.

"You're so fucking beautiful," Nate whispered, his voice softening just slightly as his hand slid from Y/N's neck to cradle the side of his face. His thumb brushed over Y/N's cheek as he leaned in, pressing a hot, lingering kiss to the corner of Y/N's mouth.

The combination of Nate's words, his touch, and the overwhelming sensation of their bodies moving together was too much. Y/N let out a choked gasp, his body tensing as he felt himself hurtling toward the edge, completely consumed by the moment.

The intensity between them reached its breaking point as Y/N's body trembled uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure coursing through him. His breathing grew ragged, his chest rising and falling in rapid succession as his back arched against Nate's chest. Every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire, the sensation building to an almost unbearable peak.

"Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice shaky and broken as his hands scrambled for purchase on Nate's thighs. His entire body tensed, his moans growing louder and more desperate until he finally reached his climax. A choked cry escaped his lips as he released, his hot stream spilling onto his stomach in shuddering waves.

Nate's breath hitched, his own body responding to the sight and feel of Y/N unraveling in his arms. His grip on Y/N's hips tightened briefly before his hand moved, his fingers curling firmly around Y/N's dick.

"You're a fucking vision," Nate muttered, his voice rough with awe and desire as he began to stroke Y/N with deliberate care, his pace slow but firm. Y/N whimpered at the overstimulation, his body trembling even more as Nate's movements sent aftershocks of pleasure rippling through him.

Nate leaned forward, his breath warm against Y/N's neck as he whispered, "Let me take care of you."

Without waiting for a response, Nate's hand slowed, his thumb brushing over the sensitive head of Y/N's length. The slickness of Y/N's release made every movement fluid, and Nate's other hand slid along Y/N's chest, pulling him closer against his broad frame.

Y/N let out a soft whimper, his head falling back against Nate's shoulder as he felt the heat of Nate's lips ghost against his ear. "Nate—" he started, his voice weak and trembling.

"Shh," Nate murmured, his tone softer now, almost reverent. He shifted slightly, guiding Y/N's release onto his fingers before lifting his hand.

The moment Y/N registered what Nate was about to do, his eyes widened slightly, his cheeks flushing even deeper. But before he could say anything, Nate brought his hand to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the slick warmth.

The act was slow and deliberate, Nate's gaze locked onto Y/N's as he licked the cum from his fingers, his expression a mix of cocky satisfaction and something more intimate. "Sweet," Nate murmured, his voice low and teasing as he let his tongue trail along his fingers again, savoring the taste.

Y/N's breath caught in his throat, his body trembling anew at the sight. "You're insane," he managed to whisper, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

Nate smirked, his free hand sliding up to cradle Y/N's jaw, tilting his face slightly to meet his gaze. "And you love it," he replied, his tone filled with quiet confidence as he leaned in, brushing his lips softly against Y/N's.

The kiss was brief but searing, the taste of Y/N's release lingering faintly on Nate's lips as he pulled back just enough to whisper, "I could do this all night."

Y/N shivered at the promise in Nate's voice, his hands clutching at Nate's thighs for stability as the tension between them simmered, the moment charged with the unspoken acknowledgment of how deeply they were losing themselves in each other.

A movement between them was deliberate, every touch igniting sparks that only seemed to grow brighter and hotter. Nate's hands moved with practiced care as he guided Y/N down, his strong grip on Y/N's hips firm but not rough.

"Trust me," Nate murmured, his voice low and breathy, sending a shiver down Y/N's spine.

Y/N obeyed, his body sinking forward until his hands pressed against the floor, his knees steady beneath him. His back arched instinctively, the position making him hyperaware of every point of contact between them. He felt Nate's hands slide along his waist, thumbs pressing into the dip of his back, grounding him as he shifted into place.

"Perfect," Nate whispered, his tone husky with desire. The word carried a weight that made Y/N's cheeks flush, though there was no time to linger on it as Nate adjusted behind him.

Nate started slowly, the deliberate press of his hips almost agonizing as he slid into Y/N with a precision that left them both breathless. Y/N let out a soft moan, his fingers curling against the floor as Nate filled him completely.

The initial pace was slow, almost teasing, Nate's movements fluid and rhythmic. His hands gripped Y/N's waist, pulling him back to meet each thrust with a control that spoke volumes about his strength and focus. Y/N couldn't help the soft, broken sounds that spilled from his lips, his body arching further into the sensation.

"Nate," Y/N gasped, his voice trembling as the pleasure built steadily, his breaths coming in short, desperate bursts.

Hearing Y/N say his name like that sent a jolt of raw need through Nate's chest. His grip on Y/N's waist tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he adjusted his angle slightly. The next thrust drew a sharp cry from Y/N, his back bowing even more as the intensity surged.

"Found it," Nate muttered, his voice low and smug, though there was an edge of breathlessness that betrayed how much control he was losing.

Y/N turned his head slightly, trying to glare over his shoulder, but the expression faltered as another deep thrust sent a wave of pleasure crashing through him. "Cocky," Y/N managed to mutter, though the word dissolved into a moan.

Nate chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned forward slightly, his hands moving to grip Y/N's hips even tighter. "You're not complaining," he countered, his voice rough and dripping with satisfaction.

And then he sped up.

The deliberate rhythm gave way to something faster, more primal, Nate's hips snapping forward with a force that made Y/N cry out. Each thrust was perfectly angled, driving deeper and harder, leaving Y/N gasping and trembling beneath him. The desk creaked faintly from the impact of their movements, though neither paid it any attention.

"You're incredible," Nate murmured, his voice raw with emotion as he leaned over Y/N, his chest brushing against Y/N's back. His lips found the curve of Y/N's shoulder, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his skin.

Y/N whimpered at the contact, his body shuddering as the combination of Nate's thrusts and his touch sent him spiraling closer to the edge again. "Nate, I—" Y/N tried to speak, but the words dissolved into a moan as Nate's pace quickened again, leaving him no room to think.

"Let go," Nate whispered, his voice rough but tender as his hands slid up Y/N's sides, pulling him even closer. "I've got you."

The room felt like it was on fire, the heat between them radiating out in waves that blurred the edges of reality. Nate's movements, once driven by relentless urgency, now grew more deliberate, each thrust a mix of passion and control as the tension in his body built to its breaking point. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with each motion as sweat dripped down his temple, mingling with the heat of Y/N's skin beneath him.

Y/N's moans had grown softer, more breathless, as his body trembled under Nate's touch. His hands clawed weakly at the floor, his strength fading, though the intensity in his voice never wavered. Every movement sent a shudder through him, every deep, precise thrust drawing him closer to the edge of blissful exhaustion.

Nate's grip on Y/N's hips tightened, his fingers pressing firmly into the slick skin as his pace began to stutter. His usually confident exterior had all but crumbled, his voice raw and husky as he groaned Y/N's name, the sound muffled against Y/N's shoulder.

"Y/N... I'm—" Nate's voice cracked, and the tremor in his words betrayed just how close he was.

Y/N barely had the energy to respond, his own body trembling with the aftermath of his release, but he managed a soft, encouraging sound that sent Nate tumbling over the edge.

With one final thrust, Nate buried himself deep inside Y/N, his hips pressing firmly against him as he let out a low, guttural groan. His body tensed, every muscle locking up as he released his hot seed in a series of sharp, shuddering waves. The warmth spread between them, the sensation drawing a soft whimper from Y/N, whose body instinctively arched into Nate's.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies frozen in the overwhelming intensity of the moment. Nate's forehead rested against Y/N's back, his breaths ragged and uneven as he tried to recover. His hands, still gripping Y/N's waist, softened their hold, his fingers brushing over the flushed skin in a gesture that felt almost apologetic.

As the high began to ebb, Nate let out a shaky exhale, his hips moving in a slow, languid rhythm as he rode out the last of his release. Each movement was softer, more deliberate, as if he were reluctant to let go of the connection they'd shared.

"Y/N," Nate murmured, his voice quieter now, the arrogance replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

Y/N hummed weakly in response, his body too spent to move but still leaning into Nate's every touch.

Eventually, Nate stilled completely, his hands sliding from Y/N's waist as he slowly pulled out, careful not to disturb Y/N too much. The loss of contact drew a soft, involuntary whimper from Y/N, who shifted slightly, his body collapsing onto the floor with a quiet thud.

Y/N rolled onto his side, his body curling slightly as his chest heaved, trying to catch his breath. His eyes fluttered closed, the exhaustion pulling at him like a weight. His skin was slick with sweat, the heat of the moment still lingering, but he felt a faint sense of relief as the intensity gave way to a calm stillness.

Nate let himself fall back onto the floor beside Y/N, his arms sprawled out as he stared up at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, his face flushed and damp with sweat. For a while, neither of them said anything, the silence filled only by the sound of their breathing.

As the seconds stretched into minutes, Nate turned his head slightly to glance at Y/N, who was still lying on his side, his face half-hidden by the crook of his arm. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Nate's lips as he let out a quiet chuckle, his voice rough and low.

"Well," Nate said finally, his tone laced with dry humor as he ran a hand through his damp hair. "That was... something."

Y/N let out a weak laugh, though it was more of a breathy exhale as he cracked one eye open to look at Nate. "You're... so full of yourself," he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone, only a quiet amusement.

Nate smirked, shifting slightly so he could rest an arm behind his head. "You didn't seem to mind," he shot back, his voice carrying the faintest edge of cockiness.

Y/N rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his face betrayed him. He shifted again, curling up more comfortably on his side as his breathing finally began to steady.

"Well," Y/N drawled, his voice laced with teasing amusement as he propped himself up on one elbow, his hair a mess and his cheeks still flushed. "That was... decent."

Nate turned his head, arching an eyebrow at Y/N, his lips curling into a smirk. "Decent?" he echoed, his voice low and rough, still tinged with the aftermath of their exertion.

Y/N nodded, the playful grin on his face widening as he stretched languidly, clearly putting on a show. "Yeah, you know. Solid effort. Maybe a little... predictable," he teased, his tone light but dripping with mock arrogance.

Nate let out a quiet laugh, his smirk deepening as he pushed himself up onto his elbows, his sharp eyes locking onto Y/N's. "Predictable, huh?" he repeated, his voice carrying a dangerous edge of amusement.

Y/N shrugged, biting back a grin. "I mean, I've had better," he said with a casual wave of his hand, though the twitch of his lips betrayed the lie.

"Oh, is that right?" Nate asked, sitting up fully now, his body still radiating a quiet confidence. His smirk grew, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer to Y/N. "Because I seem to remember you being pretty quiet a few minutes ago."

Y/N's grin faltered just slightly, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink as he quickly tried to recover. "Quiet? I don't—"

"Yeah," Nate interrupted smoothly, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he moved closer, his face just inches from Y/N's. "You were quiet. Except for when you were moaning my name like a prayer."

Y/N's mouth opened to retort, but no words came out, his brain temporarily short-circuiting at Nate's words.

Nate tilted his head, his smirk growing even cockier as he leaned back, clearly relishing Y/N's stunned expression. "What was it you kept saying?" Nate mused, pretending to think as he rubbed his chin mockingly. "Oh, right. 'Nate, don't stop. Please, Nate.' Sound familiar?"

Y/N's jaw dropped, his face burning as he shoved Nate's shoulder in mock outrage. "You're such a jerk!"

Nate laughed, catching Y/N's wrist easily before pulling him closer, his smirk softening into something more affectionate. "Don't get mad, Y/N," he teased, his voice warm and playful. "You just made it too easy. And honestly..." He leaned in, his lips brushing against Y/N's ear as he whispered, "I liked hearing you say my name like that."

Y/N shivered at the words, his indignation faltering as he felt Nate's breath against his skin. "You're a dick," he muttered, though his voice had lost its bite, and the way his body relaxed against Nate's betrayed how much the teasing didn't bother him.

Nate chuckled, pulling back just enough to meet Y/N's gaze. "And you're adorable when you're flustered," he said, his tone soft but still carrying that teasing edge.

Y/N huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he tried to glare at Nate, though the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips ruined the effect. "I hate you," he said, though the words lacked any real venom.

"Sure you do," Nate replied, his smirk returning as he leaned back onto his hands, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, the teasing fading into soft smiles and shared glances. And though neither of them said it, there was an unspoken understanding between them—a recognition of the connection they had just shared, one that went far beyond words or playful banter.

The first light of dawn filtered through the dormitory window, casting soft golden hues over the room. The space, usually cluttered with books, clothes, and the remnants of late-night study sessions, felt oddly serene. The air was still, save for the faint sounds of Y/N's soft, even breathing as he lay nestled against Nate's chest.

Nate was wide awake. He'd woken an hour earlier, his body naturally attuned to early football practices, but he hadn't moved. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, his arm draped protectively over Y/N's waist, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear.

Y/N's face was partially buried in the pillow, his hair messy and his lips slightly parted. There was a peacefulness about him, a vulnerability Nate wasn't used to seeing but found himself captivated by. His usual sharp tongue and quick comebacks were absent, replaced by the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

Nate couldn't tear his eyes away.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the pressure of his football career or the expectations placed on him by his family. His mind was entirely consumed by Y/N—by the softness of his features, the warmth of his skin against Nate's, and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

It was strange, this feeling. Foreign, yet not unwelcome. Nate had never been the type to dwell on emotions or let himself get caught up in things he couldn't control, but lying here with Y/N felt... different.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought back to the night before—the way Y/N had teased him, the way he'd surrendered to Nate's touch, and the way he'd said Nate's name in a voice that still sent shivers down his spine.

Mine, Nate thought, the word echoing in his mind with a possessiveness that surprised him. He hadn't just discovered something new about himself last night—he'd uncovered something he couldn't ignore.

He wanted Y/N. Not just in the fleeting, physical sense. He wanted more.

The thought should have scared him, but it didn't. Instead, it settled in his chest like a steady flame, warming him from the inside out.

As he studied Y/N's sleeping form, Nate's jaw tightened with determination. He didn't want to hide this—hide them. For the first time in his life, he didn't care what other people thought. His teammates, his friends, the judgmental whispers on campus—it didn't matter. He wanted people to know. He wanted them to see Y/N by his side and know that Y/N was his.

The thought made his chest swell, but it was quickly followed by a pang of doubt. He hadn't even talked to Y/N about what this was. What they were. He hadn't asked, hadn't clarified, hadn't dared to put a label on the feelings swirling inside him.

But then again, why would he? He wasn't the type to ask permission or seek validation. He'd always been the one to take what he wanted, and this felt no different.

Still, Nate thought, his gaze softening as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from Y/N's face. His fingers lingered for a moment, the touch light and reverent.

Y/N stirred slightly, letting out a small, sleepy hum as he shifted closer to Nate, his body instinctively seeking warmth. Nate couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped him, his hand moving to rest gently against Y/N's cheek.

"Sleep well, troublemaker," Nate murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need to say the rest—the things he was still figuring out, the emotions that felt too big to put into words. For now, this was enough.

As the morning sun climbed higher in the sky, casting its light over the room, Nate let himself relax, holding Y/N close and silently vowing that no matter what, he wouldn't let this slip through his fingers.

[flightlessangelwings]

To Feel Your Body Against Mine

Frankie Morales x fem!reader

Word count-4.5k

Prompt- secret relationship

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), secret relationship, feelings, praise, sex in a public bathroom, softness, oral (f receiving), creampie, alcohol mention, a shitty ex, attempted assault (not detailed), mild violence (not against reader), happy ending, reader is a bartender/waitress, reader is Santi's sister but not physically described at all other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- For @burntheedges Roll a Trope writing challenge! I'm so excited to be able to participate and I got such a fun trope too! And I definitely made myself hot and bothered writing that second spicy scene lol! I hope everyone enjoys this!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

“Mmm… Frankie…” you moaned as you leaned your head back against the bathroom mirror.

He hummed your name in your ear as he smirked against your face.

“We’re gonna get caught if we take too much longer,” you huffed as you felt the warm embrace of his body against yours. 

“Yeah,” he groaned as he thrust into you, “But you feel so fucking good, baby,” his tone dropped as he thrusted again, “Can’t fucking stop.”

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as your eyes rolled back into your head.

Frankie had you on the bathroom counter in the employee bathroom at the bar you worked at. The moment the two of you had the chance to slip away, you took it, and quickly you clawed each other’s clothes off, desperate for one another. To have his cock fill you up again filled that need that left you feeling empty. To be connected to him once more was something that your body, and your heart, craved more than anything. To feel his strong arms around you as you wrapped your legs around his waist made everything feel perfect, even if you were currently in a dirty bathroom. 

And Frankie’s feelings reflected yours. From the moment he first met you all those years ago, he instantly fell for you. And to finally have you in his arms, to feel himself inside your pussy, to be able to call you his… it was better than heaven for him. Even from the second he walked into the bar and saw you with the drink mixer in your hand, the way your breasts swung then you shook it, he knew he was going to fuck you in the bathroom the moment he got the chance.

Your relationship was perfect. Even from the first night you spent together, it felt as if the two of you had been together for years. Everything just fell into place perfectly, like you were two puzzle pieces that finally clicked together to form the picture that was your life. Everything felt right. Everything felt perfect, like things were the way they should be.

It was almost perfect that is. There was only one problem: no one knew. No one could know. Because you were Santigo’s sister. 

“He’ll freak out if he finds out about us,” you had once told Frankie, “Let’s just keep it between us for now. We’ll figure out the right time to tell him later.”

But that didn’t matter now. All that mattered to Frankie now was you. You were the entire world to him as he fucked you in the bar bathroom. The way your mouth dropped open to let the beautiful cries flow freely was more intoxicating to him than the drinks you served. The way your breasts swung with his every thrust was captivating. The way your inner muscles clenched around his cock sent jolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 

Sweat lined your brow as you clung to Frankie. One hand buried itself in his hair, tugging hard, while the other dug into his broad shoulder. All you could do was scream in pleasure as he rocked faster into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

“Fuck! Frankie, right there!” you moaned as you arched your back.

With one harsh grunt, Frankie thrust forward and both of you fell apart at the same time. You and Frankie both cried out as your bodies trembled against each other. Clinging to each other for dear life, you moaned loudly. Thankfully, the loud music from the bar drowned out your screams, yet at the time neither of you cared about that. All you cared about was the other as you rode out your climaxes together. 

Frankie huffed as he stilled himself inside you for a moment, hot and sweaty from the passionate lovemaking in the tiny bathroom. He let out a deep breath as he opened his eyes for a moment before closing them again to kiss you deeply. He savored the taste of you on his tongue as he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, swallowing the whimper you let out. His hand cupped the side of your face as his thumb stroked your cheek tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he mumbled as he rested his forehead against yours.

“So are you, Frankie,” you smirked back at him before you kissed him again. But, as much as you wanted the moment to last forever, you knew time was against you. “We really do need to get back now,” you sounded disappointed, “Don’t want anyone to get suspicious.” 

Frankie’s face dropped; he didn’t want the moment to end yet either, “Yeah,” he nodded as he helped you dress before slipping his own clothes back on.

Placing his trusty hat back on his head, you gave him one last kiss, “You go first. I’ll be behind you in a second.”

His dark, pleading eyes looked into yours as three words rushed to the tip of his tongue. But, just like every time before, they remained unspoken as he unlocked and left the bathroom.

You let out a deep sigh as you turned to the mirror and adjusted yourself for a moment before you also left your little hideaway and went back to the real world. The real world where as far as anyone was concerned, you and Frankie were just friends. 

*

You grinned from behind the bar as you watched the guys at their table. Santiago, your brother, and the guys who got each other through tough times that you couldn’t even imagine all laughed together. The four of them best of friends, brothers in arms. You couldn’t hear their conversation, but you could tell they enjoyed their time together, as they always did when the four of them convened. 

“There you are, nena!” Santiago exclaimed as you walked up to the table with a tray of drinks, “Where’ve you been?”

Frankie swallowed nervously, but hid it under the brim of his hat.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s busy in here,” you gestured over your shoulder to the crowd at the bar, “Some of us work for a living,” you added with a smirk. Glancing over for a brief moment, you caught Frankie’s eye and saw him relax his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah,” Santiago shrugged, “As long as these assholes keep their hands to themselves and off my sister.” He shit a pointed glare towards another table of guys who made no effort to hide the way they checked you out when you walked by.

Will and Benny burst into laughter before Will spoke up, “Man you really have the overprotective brother thing down pat, don’t you, Pope?”

“Yeah,” Benny added as he sipped his drink.

Santiago rolled his eyes, “Shut up, assholes.”

You mirrored your brother’s eye roll before you turned and walked away, aware of a pair of eyes stealthily on your ass as you did so. A grin lit up your face while your back was to the guys.

Chatter echoed around him as he lost himself in your figure as the guys went back to their conversation. Vaguely, he was aware they were reminiscing about good times in the past before they turned their attention to Benny’s upcoming fight. The Miller brothers seemed to focus more on each other as Will gave his usual encouraging words to his little brother.

“Que pasas, hermano?” Santiago asked, noticing Frankie’s distant expression.

Frankie shook himself out of his thoughts and back to his best friend, “Nada,” he replied a little too quickly, “Nothing,” he repeated in a more leveled tone, “Just thinking is all,” he said as he took a sip of his drink and savored the taste that mixed with your that lingered on his tongue.

“That’s dangerous,” Santiago quipped playfully.

He rolled his eyes as he adjusted his hat. After a breath, Frankie chose his words carefully so as to not arouse suspicion, “Would it really be so bad if your sister found someone? Like found the right someone who treats her well?”

He pointed a stare at him for a moment before he took a swig of his drink and answered, “If it were the right person, yeah. She has a habit of picking real shitty ones though,” Santiago made a face as he pictured a particular ex of yours. But, he decided Frankie’s question was harmless, “But for now, I got my best friends watching over her when I can’t,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “Thanks man, I know I can count on you.”

Frankie gave him a smile that hid the way he truly felt, “Anytime, man.”

*

“Oh Frankie… Ay mierda,” you moaned as you writhed on his bed.

The moon was high in the sky, illuminating Frankie’s bedroom. It was just the right amount of light to make for a romantic night in, and Frankie took full advantage of it. In between your legs he found a bliss unlike anything else. There was only one place he loved kissing you more than your lips…

Frankie groaned into you as he dug his hands into your thighs. As much as he wanted to tell you how beautiful you were or how delicious you tasted, he just couldn’t break himself away from your pussy. He slurped loudly, not caring how obscene the sounds he made were, especially when they made you moan and make such lovely sounds.

“Ay dios mio,” you cried out as one hand landed in his hair while the other clutched onto the sheets for dear life. The way his tongue so expertly found all your sensitive spots never ceased to amaze you… and always left you breathless.

Another growl emitted from deep within Frankie’s throat as he devoured you with even more fervor. His tongue swirled around your clit, making you whimper with every pass, and he could tell you were close.

Let me taste your cum, baby, he thought as he ran his tongue up and down your folds. The tip of his nose hit your clit as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, darting it in and out a few times before running back up. The moment his lips wrapped around your clit, you screamed and tugged at his hair.

“Frankie! Fuck!” you cried out as your legs trembled on either side of his head.

He tightened his grip on you as he sucked hard on your clit. And that was all it took to send you over the edge. With a loud scream, you came hard against his face, rocking your hips against his prominent nose as you rode out your climax.

Like a man dying of thirst, Frankie greedily lapped up your release as he kept his rhythm with his tongue. He didn’t want to waste a drop of your sweet juices, and he didn’t want to stop until you were entirely spent. His cock strained with need, but he ignored it in favor of your pleasure.

With one last gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed, and Frankie broke away from your cunt with a loud pop. He wanted your body through glazed over eyes as his chin glistened with your cum. He watched with fiery eyes as your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths as you came down from your high.

“Fuck you are so fucking sexy, baby,” he growled as he lunged forward and captured your lips with his own.

You moaned into him as you wrapped your arms and legs around his body as he covered you. A rumble from Frankie’s chest reverberated between your bodies as he rutted against you.

“I need you, baby,” Frankie sounded so desperate, “Fuck I can’t get enough of you.”

“Then fuck me, Francisco,” you mewled as you bucked your hips against his, feeling his rock hard cock against your slick pussy.

All he could do was growl as he angled his hips against you. Frankie slipped a hand between your bodies to guide his cock to your entrance, and the moment the tip hit your wetness, you both gasped.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed as he easily slid into you, your pussy still soaking wet from how avidly he devoured you.

“Oh my god…” you dropped your head back onto the mattress as you felt his cock stretch you out. You groaned and dug your nails into his back as you surrendered yourself to him completely. 

“Shit I’m not gonna last long with how fucking good you feel,” Frankie muttered as he started to rock in and out of you, feeling your walls around him with every thrust.

Any words escaped your mind the moment he started thrusting in and out of you. All you could do was moan and hold onto him as his cock filled you over and over again. In the moonlight, Frankie fucked you with everything he had. You felt the passion behind every thrust of his hips, and the way he held you while he ravaged you was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

This was not just fucking. Frankie was making love to you in both the sweetest and roughest way he could. And it was everything you needed and more. Just as he was addicted to you and your pussy, you were addicted to him. You clawed at his back, pulling him closer as if you couldn’t get enough of him. You wanted to feel every inch of his body against you while his thick cock filled you up over and over again. You wanted… need him more than air.

Frankie was mesmerized by you. Before you pulled him closer, he watched as your breasts swung wildly with every thrust of his hips. And as he covered you with his body, he could feel your heart pound in your chest. He couldn’t get enough of the way you wrapped your arms and legs around him, wordlessly telling him you needed more, needed him closer. 

And he was happy to oblige. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he murmured your name over and over with every thrust, “Baby I’m close.” Sweat lined his brow, making the thick locks of hair stick to his forehead.

“Cum in me, Frankie,” you whispered as you pressed your forehead against his, “Let me feel you.”

Your words alone almost made him lose control. But Frankie wasn’t going over the edge without you, so he snaked his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you cried out as his touches sent jolts of pleasure up your spine, “Frankie…”

“I know baby,” he moaned, “I’ve got you…”

His thrusts became erratic as the room spun around him. Moans and cries of pleasure echoed between your bodies, and neither of you were sure who made which sounds. It didn’t matter anyway, you were connected at one, fitted together perfectly as if you were meant for each other.

Frankie felt his orgasm quickly approaching; with every thrust he was closer and closer. And from the way your inner muscles squeezed his cock, he could tell you were just as close. Pounding into you with fervor, Frankie growled your name as he came hard enough to see stars.

You screamed against his lips as your second climax hit at the same time. Clutching onto Frankie tightly, you trembled underneath him as you came together. Passions exploded between your bodies as Frankie rode out both your climaxes. Tears fell down your cheeks as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through your body. And a shiver ran up your spine as you felt Frankie’s release fill you to the brim while he moaned against your face.

With one last huff, Frankie thrust as deep as he could into you before he collapsed down on top of you with a grunt. You wheezed as the added weight was sudden, but you both burst into laughter as you both went limp against each other. Frankie planted light kisses on the side of your head as he caught his breath and his cock softened inside you. A chill of his own ran up his spine as your laughter sent shocks to his overstimulated cock.

“That was amazing, baby,” Franie murmured in your ear.

“You’re amazing, Frankie,” you whispered back, kissing him wherever you could while you ran your hands up and down his broad back.

Frankie broke away to gaze into your eyes as he propped himself up on his elbows. Again, three words were on the tip of his tongue. He could have said them. He should have said them. You looked so beautiful underneath him in the moonlight. There was no better time than now…

Yet, he didn’t. Instead he said, “I got you,” as he slowly pulled out of you, causing you both to hiss. Frankie gave you an apologetic look when he was fully out of you, and he couldn’t help but glance down and watch his release spill out of your pussy.

He licked his lips, and for a moment he contemplated devouring you once more. But, his muscles ached, and Frankie felt the overwhelming need just to hold you close, to feel your body against his.

Reaching for a tissue on his bedside, Frankie gently, tenderly cleaned you up as you whimpered from the touch. You were overstimulated as well, but in the best way possible. Not wanting to leave your side even for a moment, he just tossed the tissue aside and laid down next to you, gathering you in his arms. You sighed contently as you pressed a light kiss to his chest before you laid your head down comfortably. 

“Hey baby?” Frankie broke the silence after several moments. 

“You alright, Frankie?” You noticed the change in his tone, which made you worry. You rested your hand on his chest, feeling his heart under your palm. 

“Do you ever think maybe we should tell Santiago about… us?”

You let out a deep sigh as you savored the warmth of his embrace for a moment, “I do hate hiding from him,” you admitted, “But I’m just scared to, you know?” Truthfully, you were sure he wouldn’t be as mad as you feared, yet something nagged at you about it. Perhaps because he reacted so badly to the last person you dated, yet he had good reason to. This time, however, it was Frankie, and who would deny Frankie? And the longer this went on, the more frightened you became. You dug yourself in this hole and the longer you hid in it, the more difficult you knew climbing out of that hole would be.

“I know,” he comforted you with a squeeze, “But we can do it together. He can’t be mad for too long,” he let out a soft laugh.

You chuckled, “You’re right,” you hummed in agreement, “We’ll pick a time to sit down with him and tell him the truth, and Will and Benny too.”

“Sounds good, baby,” he kissed the top of your head, “I’ll be right there with you, I promise,” Frankie paused and took a deep breath, “But for now, let’s get some sleep.”

*

It was a quieter night at work, which you were thankful for. So many crowded nights were great for your paycheck, but left you completely exhausted. A few regulars and some newcomers sat scattered around the bar, but you still had some time to just lean against the wall and rest for a bit. It was a calm, peaceful night.

Until the one person you never wanted to see again walked through the doors.

Immediately you were on edge from the moment you saw his sly face, “Ernesto,” you spat through gritted teeth, “What are you doing here?”

His grin sent shivers down your spine, “I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I don’t miss you,” your tone was cold as you held yourself strong, “Get out of here.”

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” he leaned in close, invading your space and placing a hand on your shoulder, “Give me another chance. I’ve changed.”

“No!” you pushed his hand off your shoulder. But, before you could step away from him, he grabbed your wrist, “Let me go, Ernesto!”

Just as he tried to yank you close enough to him to kiss you, he was ripped away in a flash. Before he could even grunt in confusion, Ernesto found himself stumbling away from you and a man stood between you and him.

“Who the fuck are you?” he snapped.

“Frankie,” you breathed in relief.

“She told you no, so get the fuck out of here before I have to hurt you,” Frankie growled, sounding very unlike his usual self. 

“Fuck off, she’s mine,” Ernesto lunged for Frankie, fists winging.

Frankie clenched his jaw and waited for the opportunity to present itself. In between the flurry of hands from Ernesto, there was an opening. It only took one hit, one precise punch from Frankie right in his nose to send him careening back. Ernesto landed on the floor with a grunt, and all the air was forced out of his lungs as he saw stars from hitting his head.

In a rage, Frankie stepped forward and grabbed Ernesto’s collar, peeling him off the floor, “Have anything to say now, pendejo?” he growled.

It took him a moment to re-orientate himself before he stuttered, “N-no,” all the fight had left Ernesto’s body, “I’m going. I’m going,” he pleaded as he scrambled away and bolted for the door. Frankie watched to make sure he left before he quickly rushed over to you.

*

Santiago hopped out of his truck before he strolled toward the bar you worked at. He had some free time and decided to come see you, especially since he noticed you had been acting differently lately. He cared for you more than anything, and he only ever wanted the best for his sister and only family. He was in a good mood, but as he got closer to the bar, someone burst through the doors and slammed right into him.

“S-sorry,” Ernestro muttered as he looked up from where his gaze was pointed at the ground, “I didn’t mean to… You!” he gasped, recognizing Santiago.

“You!” he snarled as he grabbed Ernesto’s shirt, “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Santiago was ready to hit him, enraged when he thought about how he treated you in the past, but when he noticed the broken nose and blood from his face, he paused.

Ernesto took the opportunity in his hesitation to slip out of his grip and run away. Santiago thought about going after him, but his priority was more on his sister’s safety, so he ran inside to check on you. And when he rushed through the doors, the sight that met him froze him in his tracks.

Frankie was there, holding you tightly and whispering into your ear as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He couldn’t hear what exactly he said, but he could tell Frankie was whispering words of comfort into your ear in between feather light kisses. Santiago wasn’t sure how to feel and he stood in dumbfounded stillness for several moments.

“What the hell is going on here?” his voice was a low grumble as the emotions slipped out before he could stop them.

You gasped as you snapped your head up from where it rested on Frankie’s shoulder, “Santi…” you breathed, tears still fresh in your eyes, “I can explain,” you scrambled out of his arms and up to your feet.

Frankie followed right behind you, “Pope, I…” he started before he was interrupted.

“Wait,” you hissed to both of them, noticing the stares from the few patrons in the bar, “Can we take this outside?” You really did not want an audience.

Santiago remained tense, but looked around and nodded. In silence, the three of you slipped out and towards your brother’s truck for some privacy. The tension was palpable as you made your way out of the bar. Yet, Frankie still slid his hand in yours despite the glare from Santiago.

“Santi, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you blurted out, “We just…”

“How long?” Santiago cut you off with a simple question, “How long have you kept this from me?”

All the breath felt like it was punched out of your lungs and suddenly you realized why he was so angry. All your life, it had been just you and Santi; brother and sister alone in the world. You trusted each other with everything, and you were all each other had. This was the first time you kept something from him, and you noticed the hurt in his eyes that you felt like you had to hide this from him.

“A few months,” Frankie answered for you in a quiet voice.

Santiago let out a heavy sigh as his shoulders dropped and the tough person melted away. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked between the two of you, “And you couldn’t tell me this whole time?” his tone was softer than before, and the hurt was apparent. 

“Santi,” you started, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry.”

He glanced at you before he stepped past you and met Frankie face to face, “Will you take care of her?” he asked, “You’ll never hurt her?”

Frankie’s eyes softened, “Yeah,” he breathed, “I swear, man,” he continued, “I’d never do anything to hurt her,” he paused, “I’m in love with your sister, man.”

The confession made both you and Santiago’s mouths drop open in surprise. “Frankie…” you gasped in a whisper from behind your brother.

Santiago recovered first, “Fuck, bro,” he smiled through the emotions, “Guess I can’t be too pissed at you… You did kick her ex’s ass pretty damn good.” He turned over his shoulder and smiled genuinely at you before turning back to Frankie, “Just don’t make out or do any of that shit in front me, ok?” he said, putting his hand on his shoulder. 

The relief showed on Frankie’s face as he too broke out into a smile. His hand landed on Santiago’s shoulder as you also sighed in relief behind them. “Deal,” he said before the two friends embraced.

Santiago turned to you and took you up in his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I’m sorry I kept this from you, Santi,” you whispered to him as you hugged him back.

Breaking away from the hug, he kept his hands on your forearms, “I get why you didn’t,” he said softly, “I can be a little much when it comes to my family.” He turned between you and Frankie, “How about we celebrate? Drinks are on me.”

“Do I have to make them?” you teased.

Santiago and Frankie both laughed as you all embraced each other. Your brother patted you both on the shoulder before he ushered you both to his truck. Frankie slipped his hand in yours, happy to finally be able to take your hand in public without the fear of getting caught. A new chapter in your lives was just starting, and finally everything was absolutely perfect. 

[inkdrinkerworld]

High Hopes 3

part one part two

cw: reader comes from a very tense and abusive home, verbal abuse, allusion to physical abuse, bad sibling relationships, fluff, angst, Remus is a sweetheart and the best almost bf ever

wc: 7.5k

Remus: On a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if I said I found out your birthday passed and got you a gift?

You read the text as you’re exiting your class building and frown. Your birthday passed just after the new year, and you hadn’t told Remus because you hadn’t even been in the country. 

In lieu of an answer, you call him. Remus picks up on the second ring. 

“What did you get me?” He laughs down the line and you feel your stomach twist into knots. 

“Hello to you too, princess.” Since the Summer weekend sleepover thing (you’d still not decided what to call it), Remus had decided that was your new nickname and as much as you pretended to hate it, you loved it more than the others. 

“Hi Remus,” you breathe, eyes on the street as you cross and begin the walk back to your apartment. “What did you get me?” 

You can just tell he’s shaking his head. “It’s a present, why would I spoil that surprise?” 

“Because I’m impatient?” You rebut quickly. The walk back to your apartment is short, but the lingering winter makes it feel never ending. 

It also doesn’t help that you’d chosen style over cosiness- you’re in a long sleeved baby blue dress and a pair of boots that barely lick past your ankles. 

“I’m at your apartment, dove. I’ll give it to you when you get here.” 

Your eyes widen at the same time your heart constricts. “Remus, I’ve got like ten minutes left on my walk back!” 

As easily as he suggests anything to you, “Do you want me to come get you? It’s minus four right now.” 

“No, that wouldn’t make any sense,” you hear his car start. “Remus Lupin, I’m serious, I’m like one street away.” 

“So I’ll cut your walk short,” The engine roars across the line. “It’s cold, baby.” The fondness in his voice and his sparsely given ‘baby’ is what makes you stop. 

“Fine,” you try to sound much grumpier than you are and fail. “I’m at the coffee shop on the left.” 

Ten seconds later, Remus is there; his grey car collecting droplets of fine snow. 

“Hi,” you say as you slide in the passenger seat, your hands rubbing together making Remus frown. 

“And you wanted to finish the walk.” He flicks on the heating as he turns and goes back where he came. 

“How did you find out about my birthday?” You ask, fiddling with your bag to get out your water bottle. 

“Marlene mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to spend it with her this year and I asked when it was.” 

You hum, “It’s a little inconvenient having your birthday just after the new year,” Remus looks at you funny. “I like winter, don’t get me wrong, but a spring birthday would’ve been ideal. Like maybe in March.” 

He rolls his eyes, pulling into your parking lot. 

“How do you know when mine is?” He asks, helping you out of the car and then grabbing a bag out of the backseat. 

“Sirius and James talk a lot. Your gift is currently in transit.” 

Remus’ eyes shoot up, “When have you been hanging out with those two?” The ‘without me’ is implied and you look at him with a sly smile. 

“Jealous, Remus?” 

He tuts, figuring you out immediately. “You’re not winding me up, princess.” He holds the door open for you as you walk in and Remus sighs as he gets a whiff of your newest perfume. 

The couple of times he’s been to see you since the start of the semester, you’ve been wearing this intoxicatingly creamy vanilla perfume that has just a touch of something spicy to it that has been driving him mad. 

“Why would I be winding you up?” You toe off your boots and then look at him. “I’m gonna take the fastest shower known to man, but there’s food in the fridge and cookies in a Tupperware somewhere on the counter.” 

Remus shakes his head, setting his shoes beside yours. “I’ll wait for you, take your time.” 

You’re out of the bathroom in twenty minutes, in a matching jewel blue set of loungewear and a pair of socks. 

Your hair is tied back exposing a tiny tattoo behind your ear that Remus wants desperately to kiss. He’s on his laptop when you get out, typing away at what you assume is his book.

Remus doesn’t go here, he’s got a fancy writing degree already and he’s got an editing gig that he tries playing off as no big deal- but it is. 

He’s on ‘vacation’ though- meaning, he’s been on sick leave for the last four days so he can spend your first week back at school with you. Not that you know he’s been using his sick days for you. 

“Is roti okay? My mama dropped off some this morning.” Remus has yet to meet the old woman, but the fondness that overtakes your tone lets him know she’s at least half as lovely as you. 

“It’s perfect, dove. What do you want to look at?” He sets about finding your newest psychological thriller- Hannibal- and then makes his way into the kitchen to help you. 

“How was your day? I forgot to ask.” You mumble as you crack the ice into glasses before Remus pours some soda into them. 

“It was alright, got a couple more pages done of the book and then got high with Sirius.” 

You smile, a quiet smile that Remus thinks is going to stop his heart. “How was your classes?” 

You groan, “Long, boring and even longer.” He chuckles, leaving you to bring the glasses while he brings both plates to the living room. 

Remus sits in the corner of the sofa, he isn’t as slick as he thinks he is for sitting with a clearer view of the front door than you have. 

You appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. 

“Can I open the gift first?” Remus watches you with a rapt curiosity. He thinks you’re akin to a kid on Christmas- eyes bright, and hands shaking as you practically bounce in your seat. 

“Yeah baby,” he can’t help the sticky affection that slowly coats his words- an affection that only grows and spreads like warm honey. 

Remus watches you carefully tear the wrapping paper off the gift, his lips quirked just so as he watches your jaw drop. 

“You didn’t,” you murmur, shock and disbelief in your voice as you pull the wooden box out of the wrapping paper. 

“Open it,” the box in your lap is walnut colored, carved with spirals, flowers and dots and divots. The carvings are coloured in bright reds, oranges, yellows and some pinks. 

The lock resembles an ancient rusted clasp lock and as you unlatch it and reveal rows and stairs of chains. 

“Remus,” your voice is all clogged up and your bottom lip trembles and Remus wonders if he’s overdone it. 

“Yeah?” Your fingers trail along the crystal chips on the chains and you find your heart has cracked open. 

“This is the loveliest gift I’ve ever gotten,” the words are whispered into the air, your dinners cold as you take in every single chain in the box. “They’re for my glasses, yeah?”

“They are, pretty girl.” 

Silently, you close the box and put it to the side. “Thank you,” you blink and your tears tumble down your cheeks. His hands reach to wipe your cheeks gently. 

“You’re welcome.” You climb into his lap, Remus’ hands hold your hips. 

“You know you’re the first person since Marlene to get me something thoughtful?” 

Remus knows it’s meant to be a flippant comment, but his heart breaks for you. 

“Dove,” your heart clenches. “You’re breaking my heart.” His hands move up to cup your cheeks.

“I don’t mean to,” you say softly, shrugging one shoulder but Remus sees past the nonchalance you’re trying to exude. He doesn’t understand how someone as lovely as you has been treated so weirdly. 

He gives you an out though because he doesn’t want to push and push and push, “C’mon princess. Eat your dinner.” You take it and your plate as you press play. 

Remus notices you don’t move out of his lap but only smiles when you turn and start eating. 

“You’re staying the night?” You ask after you’ve both finished your dinner. 

Remus inhales, “What time is your first class tomorrow?” 

You pull away from him a little, “Eleven,” you have a hopeful look on your face that makes his answer easy. 

“Yeah I’ll stay the night.” 

You smile so big Remus thinks his heart stops. 

Then you get serious, “Wait, how do you feel about sharing the bed?” You ask the question softly, and Remus frowns. 

“I’ve shared the bed with you before, dove.” 

You shake your head, “I have a um,” you stumble for the words. Remus smiles. 

“A stuffy?” He asks quietly and you nod, nibbling away on your bottom lip. 

“Yeah a little yellow duckie,” Remus’ smile only widens. 

“That’s sweet, dove.” 

“You don’t think it’s silly?” He shakes his head. 

“How come I didn’t see it when we were at the other house?” He asks, his thumbs caressing your thighs. 

“I put him back in my suitcase, and I felt really bad about it too. I left it unzipped a little,” Remus kisses your temple as he chuckles. 

“You’re the sweetest fucking thing in the world.” 

Changing the conversation, “Do you want chai?” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up, “You have chai or do you need to make it?” 

You shake your head, a tired smile that’s a little teasing, “Jamie dropped it off for me when he came to see Lils.” 

Remus’ eyebrows shoot up even farther, “Jamie?” 

You giggle, “Yeah, s’what you guys call him.” 

Remus is a little indignant, “Jamie?” He repeats and you laugh even more. 

“Are you jealous, Remus?” 

Your hand reaches to the nape of his neck, twisting the sandy brown hair there as he deliberates. 

“Of James getting a nickname?” He asks and you nod, letting your fingers scratch his scalp a little. “No dove,” Remus fights the shiver that threatens to climb his back. “I’m not even a little jealous,” 

He leans into you, your noses bumping. “Why not?” Your breaths mingle as you lean even closer to Remus. 

“Because,” his hand cups your neck, his thumbs punching your chin upwards. Your chest heaves, “You’re already breathless and I haven’t even kissed you yet, princess.” 

“Please.” 

Remus smirks, wicked and impish. “No,” you whine and Remus almost rethinks his answer. “Go heat up your chai, pretty girl.” 

“You’re no fun,” you hop off his lap and head to the kitchen all the while Remus chuckles, his head against the back of the cushions as he watches you flit about the kitchen. 

-

The next time Remus sees you it’s after possibly one of the worst days of your life in a long time. Everything had gone wrong and there’d been a pit in your stomach all the way to your apartment. 

Just as you were about to walk in, your phone rang and without looking, you answered it. 

“Why does that boy keep going to your apartment?” 

You pull the phone from your ear and curse softly when you see, ‘Devil’s Right Hand,’ displayed on the screen. 

“What?” You really don’t have the energy today. 

Your father doesn’t seem to care though, “The boy. The one with the grey car.” 

As if you’re ten and not a grown ass woman, “Because we’re friends.” 

Simple, succinct and it would’ve been sufficient for any other regular parent. 

Your dad is anything but. 

“And he doesn’t leave till the morning? Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

The ‘yes’ in your brain wants so badly to slide off your tongue. You manage to bite it back. 

“I don’t understand the problem. I’m an adult, I can do as I please. You don’t even pay for the apartment, Mama does.” 

You hear the low simmering anger in your father’s tone. “Your grandmother gives you too much leeway.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’m not in the mood for a fight, was that all you wanted to know?” 

“Girl, watch your tone, it’s not a long drive to your place.” 

You shiver at the threat. “Can I go please? I have coursework to do and I’ve got exams to prep for later this week.” 

“Oh sure, coursework. Come home this weekend, your grandparents are at the house on Sunday.” 

Your body sags as you hang up the phone, the backs of your eyes burn with exhaustion. 

With a sigh, you unlock the door and get into your apartment. 

You don’t even bother to change or sit still, instead you just jump straight into your work; hours pass before your phone rings again. 

This time, it’s Remus.

“Hey,” he doesn’t like your tone, or the way you sigh the word. 

“Hi dove, I’m outside.” 

You’re relieved when you see him. He looks warm and cosy. His hair looks pillow soft and his sweater is a faded yellow one against the brown of his corduroy jeans. 

“I brought snacks,” he says, jingling a plastic bag in his hand.

You don’t smile quite as big as you normally would’ve and Remus frowns. “Long day?” He asks as he steps in, kissing your forehead when you nod. 

“Yeah, I’m just finishing up my coursework and we can have dinner.” 

Remus waits for you, busying himself with plating up dinner- leftover Chinese food from yesterday. 

“C’mon baby,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as he sets both plates on the coffee table and starts the tv. “Have some food and then get back to it if you like, but I need you to eat.” 

You look to argue, but he’s not commanding you. He’s not demanding anything from you, he’s nudging you to look after yourself. 

For a moment, you get stuck in just looking at him and your mind whirs. Remus is unlike anyone else in your life- he doesn’t take, he doesn’t shout and make threats, he doesn’t force you into a box or anything of the sort. 

Instead, he gives you room and watches you, watches you be yourself and encourages you to be yourself. It makes you emotional for a minute, the back of your throat burning as you come to the realisation. 

 “Coming,” you whisper, Remus’ eyes track your movements, and he smiles a little when you sit right up beside him, your forearms brushing. 

Dinner is quiet, little conversation here and there because Remus can tell you’re exhausted. 

In that sense, he washes up the dishes while you shower and he tidies up the living room before double checking your door is locked. 

He’s pouring hot water over the tea bags when you come out of your room, dressed in the softest look pyjamas he’s ever seen. 

“Oh you look cosy, princess.” You go bashful under the lovestruck tone to his words, walking into the arms he has open. 

One hand goes to the base of your neck, holding firm as his other hand squeezes around your back. 

“Tired?” He whispers into your hair and you hum. 

“I can have a cuppa though, not that tired.” 

You barely make it halfway through your cup before your eyes are closing and your head is lolling onto Remus’ shoulder. 

“Poor girl,” he murmurs, setting his cup down and sliding his hands under your thighs and around your back. “S’okay dove,” he coos as you stir, your nose brushed up to his neck as he walks to your bedroom. 

“Stay,” you mumble as he sets you down and Remus smiles. 

“M’right here dovey, not going a place.”

Remus wakes up to you moving around in bed, your legs kicking and your body thrashing. 

“Hey,” he croaks, voice cracking from sleep. “Dovey,” he mumbles, his hand rubbing your arm. “Baby wake up.” 

His nose brushes your cheek, hands shaking your shoulder a bit as your tossing worsens. 

“Wake up dove,” he whispers, stroking your neck. 

“Remus?” Your voice shakes, eyes open wide as you try to get your bearings.

“It’s me baby, I’m right here.” Your heart is racing as you sit up, Remus following suit. 

“Sorry,” you whimper, brushing your cheeks as you feel tears fall. Remus flicks on your lamp and his eyebrows thread together.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” He tucks you into his side. “Wanna talk to me about it?” 

His hand creeps under your shirt, his knuckles dragging up and down your spine. 

“Was just a dream,” you whisper, not quite sounding yourself. “A bad dream.” 

Remus nods, “Yeah, it was just a dream, pretty girl. Your pulse is pounding though, babe.” He can feel the harsh beat of it against the knuckles on your back. 

You shut your eyes, reliving the scenes in the dream vividly. 

“It’s a recurring thing,” you start, letting yourself be comforted by Remus’ hand on your back and the faint scent of his citrus soap. “I’m little again and my dad is blue mad, breaking glass and screaming in my face.” 

You take a shuddering breath and Remus tries his best not to react with his body. 

“I was about ten or eleven I think, by that time our relationship wasn’t salvageable. I can’t even remember what he was so upset about but I always seemed like the perfect target. ‘Specially when I started telling him off for being mean to my mum.” 

“Baby this was real?” You nod, Remus lets himself for a moment, imagine little you stopping grown adults from arguing and he feels his chest tighten at the thought. 

“He tried coming at me and mum with a piece of the glass. It was just a mess. The fight only stopped because our neighbours came to get me.” 

He feels your tears wet his shirt, but he doesn’t care. Not when you’ve started shaking again. 

“You’re alright baby,” his words sound like a promise whispered into your hairline. “You don’t have to go back to that, I swear you don’t.” 

“I think the reason I had a nightmare was because he called earlier. Said to come home on Sunday and that he knew you were staying over.” 

Remus can’t stop himself from stiffening then. He hates the frustration and defeat in your voice. 

“Do you want me to come with you on Sunday?” The offer is as easy as the breath he inhales. 

You look up at him, eyelashes wet and stuck together, lips and cheeks swollen from crying. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Remus smiles- a sad smile. 

“You didn’t ask,” he kisses your nose. “Think about it okay? I won’t be offended if you say no, pretty girl.” 

You nod and tuck yourself back into him. 

“Do you think you can go back to sleep or do you wanna watch something?” 

You think for a long time, “Will you hold me till I fall asleep?” 

God his heart really is breaking. Who could hurt you? 

“Till you wake up, dove.” 

Remus wakes up before you do, his arms still wrapped around you, and you’re more on his chest than on the bed. 

His mind wakes faster than his body, racing with thoughts of little you and the things you’ve lived. He finds that you hide it well. The hurt, the pain, the everything. One look at you wouldn’t reveal that, all anyone would see is a rich girl living with her parents and doing whatever she pleases; but under the surface? 

You’re so like everyone else, but so singular that it stops his breath a little. 

You don’t have class today, so he decides quite quickly that he’s letting you sleep in. The only thing you have to do is finish the last bit of your coursework and then Remus thinks a day doing your favourite things- shopping for books and having tea- is in order. 

He also wants to start breakfast, you’d mentioned a couple nights ago that you’d been craving blueberries and he’d had a hankering for pancakes. 

Remus tries moving out from under you but your fist closes around his shirt and he stays put. 

Breakfast can wait a bit. 

“Remmy?” You wake shortly after, the sunlight peeking through the curtains tickling your eyes. 

“Yes, dove?” His hand is stroking your arm, his blunt fingernails dragging slowly makes it hard for you to open your eyes. 

“Time is it?” You stretch as he reaches for his phone. 

“Just gone past ten,” you settle right back into his chest with a sigh. 

“Can you wake me up again at eleven?” You ask at the same time Remus asks, 

“Do you wanna go out for breakfast?” 

You hum, “What’re we having?” 

A yawn tears apart his answer, “Blueberry pancakes? Or bagels? Either or, I don’t mind.” 

“Are you making pancakes?” He can already tell where the question is headed. 

“Yes, do you have everything for them?” You nod then you shake your head. 

“Except the blueberries.” 

Remus pulls you and the covers a little closer. “Want me to go in to the grocery and get them?” You shake your head. 

“I’ll settle for whatever fruit I’ve got in the house.” Remus tuts. 

“Would you prefer blueberries?” He asks, his fingers dancing across the nape of your neck. 

“Yeah,” that’s all he needed to hear. 

“I’ll make you some tea and head out,” Remus isn’t allowed to slide out from under you, your thigh on his hip pins him down.

“You don’t have to,” you say bashfully, an intense guilt that’s completely unnecessary creeps into your voice and Remus has to slide his hands to your neck and push your chin up under your jaw. 

“You’re not inconveniencing me, pretty girl. I’m getting them, coming back here and making pancakes and then we’re going either to the beach or the bookstore.” 

You shake your head as best as you can with Remus holding your jaw. “You don’t have to do all of this just because I had a bad dream.” 

He tuts, “I want to take care of you. I’ll just be fifteen minutes.” 

You nod, accepting your defeat in the argument. 

In the time Remus is gone, you find yourself going through photo albums and reminiscing on the days when things were a lot easier. 

You stop on a picture of you and your grandmother and you sigh. Grabbing your phone, you dial her number. 

“Hello, Mama?” Your voice wavers as you speak. 

“Yes, Bebo?” You smile at the sound of her voice. Instantly, you feel like you’re being swaddled in her arms and like your troubles are eased. Your home name falling from her mouth with such familiarity also makes your chest ache. 

“I’m having trouble,” you say honestly. “I don’t know how to forgive anymore.” 

She sighs, you can hear shuffling in the back and things knocking about and then you hear your grandmother’s voice. “Bebo, you don’t have to forgive everybody.” She says, and you sniffle. “Not everyone needs that, or deserves that.” When you don’t answer she worries. You and your grandmother have an insanely close relationship, summers were spent in her back garden and on the beach near her house. She knows you as well as you can know any person. 

“Do you want me to come over? I can bring you lunch.” You take a minute to consider and know in your heart of hearts that she would be on her way if you said yes. 

“No,” you take the conversation to a different direction quickly. “Are you coming over on Sunday? Dad said.” 

You can hear the smile in her voice, “Yeah, I miss my grandkids, Bebo.” 

You’d seen her just three days ago but it feels like a month ago. “I miss you too, Mama. Would it be weird if I brought someone for dinner?” 

She gasps, always one for a good bit of gossip. “Like a boyfriend? Bebo, I’ve been waiting for this!” She sounds so excited that the image of her smiling wide behind her glasses warms your heart. 

“You don’t think dad will make it a thing?” 

She puffs out air, “Your dad would make the sun coming out a thing if he wanted to. I need you to not live your life according to him, Bebo. He’s my son, but he’s a little shit and he doesn’t rule you or anyone else.” 

You sigh, chest shaking under the weight of your withheld thoughts. 

“Is that why you don’t want me coming over? Your boyfriend is over?” You giggle, feeling weirdly like she’s right beside you as you tuck your phone between your cheek and shoulder. 

“He went to get blueberries because I wanted pancakes, and he’s not my boyfriend, Mama.” She scoffs, you smile. 

“But you like him and he’s nice?” 

“Super nice, like tooth rotting nice. And he’s really gentle and calm too.” 

You can see your grandmother’s smile, and find yourself doing the same. Even more so when you hear the knock on your door. 

“You deserve nice, gentle and calm, Bebo. I’m sorry I couldn’t have kept you kids for longer.” 

“Mama,” you gasp the words as you look through the peephole and find Remus standing there with the groceries. “You did and are doing enough. You’re not in charge of his actions, he is.” 

Remus’ eyes narrow as he sees your glassy eyes as he steps into the apartment. 

“I know Bebo, I know.” 

“I gotta go, but I’ll call you to let you know if I’m coming okay? If I am, would you bring,” she cuts you off. 

“Of course I’ll bring you coconut fudge Bebo, I’ll make it on Saturday so it doesn’t get stale.” 

Remus starts about the kitchen, but you can tell he’s intrigued about the conversation- or at the least, who you’re on the phone with. 

“Thanks Mama, I love you.” You see a little smile break out of his face even as he faces away from you to measure the flour. 

“I love you too Bebo, go enjoy your boyfriend.” You laugh scandalously and hear her chuckle before you hang up. 

“How’s your grandma?” Remus asks as you come into the kitchen and sit on the counter near him. 

“She’s good. I called her to talk about the nightmare but I kept getting too sad so we just talked about other stuff.” You swing your feet as you watch Remus mix the wet and dry ingredients. 

“Is she also going to dinner on Sunday?” He poses it conversationally, because it is but he also wants a feel for who’s there at these dinners. 

You nod, stealing a blueberry from the carton. “She’s always there. I think she comes because she knows if she’s there my dad will be in check for the whole night;” you smile when you eat the blueberry and find it’s sweet. “She’s pretty scary when she needs to be.” 

“I don’t doubt that, dove. You’re the same way, can tell there’s a little fire behind all that niceness.” 

You roll your eyes, “Whatever you say Lupin,” Remus sets your griddle on and oils it as it heats up. “Would you really want to come on Sunday?” 

He pours three pancakes on, “Unless I have to do something strange, then yes I want to come.” 

“If I told you that there was an initiation process that everyone’s super anal about, that would be a deal breaker?” Remus looks at you wide eyed and then notices your poorly hidden smile. 

“You’re a menace.” He says as he flips the pancakes, another raucous laugh bubbling out of you. 

“On occasion.” Remus stacks three for you and reaches for the syrup in the cupboard above your head. “But Mama, my granny, will probably badger you about your ‘intentions’ and whatever else.” 

You thank Remus for the pancakes with a kiss on his cheek. “Eat,” he says, cutting your pancakes for you, making you smile. “I can handle badgering. But I should warn you, I don’t hide anger well.” 

You wave off his concern. “Oh he won’t be out of line, Mama keeps him in check. And I just ignore him anyways.” Remus doesn’t like the way you shrug like your dad being a prick is no big deal, but he decides you’ve shared enough for the day. 

You don’t start eating till he makes his own stack and switches off the stove and that makes him smile a little. 

“Do you have a preference for the beach or the bookstore?” He asks in between bites of breakfast. 

You think for a moment, “Can we go to the bookstore? There’s a couple books I want to check on.” 

Remus nods, not really caring where you go, just that you do something you like. 

-

You decide against Remus joining you, not sure if you’re ready for him to see the circus that is your family. 

Your Mama is on the front porch, sipping what you know is coffee as you get out your car. 

You send Remus a text, Made it. I’ll let you know how it goes. 

His response is immediate, My offer to come get you is always on the table, princess

“Where’s your boyfriend?”She asks, standing to hug you.

“Told him that it might be too much, didn’t want to scare him off.” You try to sound as chipper as possible, but your grandmother knows you. 

“He’s not in control of you anymore, Bebo. You can’t give it to him.” 

You nod, diverting the conversation. “How’d the fudge turn out?” 

You have a couple bricks with her and your older brother in the garden out back before they’re ready to serve dinner. 

There’s a quiet stillness that covers the remaining winter, the coffee and coconut milk fudge just enough to make it seem like the tranquillity could last forever. 

“Mama said you have a boyfriend?” your older brother asks, protectiveness and amusement in his tone as you look up at him wide eyed and shocked. 

“I told her he’s not my boyfriend. Not yet.” 

“She really wants him to be. He made her pancakes and he spent the night.” You tut at your grandmother’s gossiping. 

Your brother smiles, “I’d like to meet him sometime, you look happy again.” You just nod, scared that you might say something that gives away how much you really really like Remus. 

“Dinner’s ready,” your mum comes out on the porch, giving all three of you a soft smile before going back in. 

Dinner is great until the round-the-table questions get to you. You’d avoided it for a couple courses, but it appears your luck is out. 

“How was your coursework?” Your dad says it like it was an actual lie, you don’t miss the vile amusement in his tone, like he’s waiting to catch you in a lie.

“Lots of reading, but I think I got above 85 which is great considering this professor is known for failing students for less than 75.” 

Your dad isn’t satisfied. “What was it about?” 

You stiffen in your chair, you don’t like the implication that you’re lying. “Capital punishment, recidivism and how the two coincide.” 

Your mum can tell your dad is still not pleased, so can your grandmother and she sets him right with a look. 

“Do you need her professors to start running their coursework topics through you? Are you going to call the school next because you disbelieve everything?” 

The table is tense as your grandmother and your dad have a stare off- not that she’s at all concerned about him. 

Your younger siblings feed off your dad’s energy, their own question hot and ready and aimed at anyone with answers.

 “How is it fair that she moved out?” And “Why does Mama pay for her apartment and not just tell her to move back home? It’s silly how much she’ll do for attention.” Or “Maybe if she just came home dad wouldn’t be so upset?” You can’t even get a word in, stunned silent as you realise this is how they see you.

It’s when your younger brother and sister say, “You always make it about you, you’re Mama’s favourite and that pisses us off. Dad doesn’t like you because you think you’re better than us, and it would all be better if you just made a clear decision- do you want to be in the family or not?”, that your breath quickens at their words, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. 

The part that hurts is that they’re too young to know all the things that have happened, they don’t get why it’s so hard for you to sit here even on bi-weekly Sunday dinners and play nice with your dad.

Your food suddenly loses taste when your dad sends an evil smile your way, your stomach rolling.

They don’t understand that you’ve taken their beatings, that you’ve suffered horrid treatment just so they wouldn’t have to.

“Either way, we don’t care. I think we’d be better off without you if I’m honest. All you do is mope and complain, you wouldn’t even have half the shit you do if it wasn’t for dad. He’s not the monster you make him out to be.” 

Your older brother cut them glares, “Enough! You don’t speak for this entire table, find somewhere else to be.” They scamper off, your brother doesn’t even give your dad the time of day, he looks at you immediately. 

“Go take a walk, Bebo.” He’s the only one of them that likes you, the only out of three siblings that actually knows you, that knows what this is doing to you and you’re grateful for it. 

Mama sparks into heavy, brash Urdu, all of it aimed at your father who more than deserves it- these are his spawn. 

You try to think through your feelings, try to sort them into neat and tidy boxes but it just winds you. 

You can't take deep breaths, they’re all shallow and sharp. Your chest aches, a concave feeling to it as you worry about the sharpness of your breath. It only worsens your ability, your breathing even shallower and you can’t seem to stop the cycle. 

You reach for your phone, pulling up a breathing video and trying your best to follow it, your breathing evening the longer you follow along. 

When you can inhale fully, you call Remus. You need him. 

He picks up on the second ring, “Hi, dovey. Everything okay?” 

“I think I should’ve let you come.” Your voice sounds ragged, like you need to cry and Remus’ skin prickles. He wishes he was there too. 

“Need me to come up there?” You debate it, you really do, and maybe if you didn’t feel like such a shitty person right now you would’ve said ‘no,’ but you need Remus and his sound mind and advice. 

“It’s a thirty minute drive.” you say, hearing things rustling in the back and Remus moves the phone from his mouth as he calls to someone. 

“I’m heading out, text me if you need anything.” Then the phone is closer. “Just had to tell Siri and Jamie. I’m on my way, princess.” 

“Drive safely, Remmy.” you sound so sad, Remus wishes he could just apparate to you now. 

“I’ll see you soon, baby. Stay somewhere safe, yeah.”

Tears gather in your eyes at how easily Remus could tell that you were frightened, that you’re in need of some place soft to land. God, you can’t wait for him to be here. 

The front door opens, your older brother coming out on the porch with a heavy sigh. 

“You have to tell them Bebo,” he says softly and you shake your head. 

“Why? So they can think I’m just lying to make him look bad. I’m okay with this arrangement.” 

Your brother takes a seat on the porch swing and pats a spot next to him. 

“Are you actually?” You inhale, thinking it over for a brief moment. 

“It hurts, of course it does. But I used to be mean too, this is them being mean back.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes, “It’s not like they’re ten. They’re sixteen and they’re horrid.” You take your spot next quickly- like if you chance a slow moment the tears will come. 

“But just to me. You get to be the best sibling they have, while I’m the problem black sheep sibling who can’t help but be macabre.” 

“You’re not macabre. You know you’re not. You just lived some dark shit to spare them and it’s time to stop. They can handle it.” You wish you could do it, it might make things easier, but you’re scared. 

“Maybe next time, it’s too charged in there now.” You sigh, head touching the back of the swing. “Do you think I’ll ever have their love?” The tears stream down your cheeks anyway as you think about the idea, as you hear their words rattle around your head. 

Your brother sighs hard, not sure if your siblings would ever wake up from your dad’s spell. Instead of saying anything, he guides your head to his shoulder. “Take a nap, Bebo.” 

“Remus is coming soon. Would you wake me when he gets here?”

“‘Course, Bebo.”

Your grandmother comes out right after you fall asleep, touching your sticky cheek with a weathered hand. 

“They’ll break her, you know. They’ll break her spirit and she won’t hold back anymore.” She sounds sad, like she can see it happening already.

“Mama, she won’t break.”  your brother says, reaching for her but she bats him away. 

“She’s not like you. You brush it off, she can’t. It weighs her heart. Every time she leaves here she looks so sad, so heavy and cracked. I can’t see her crack again, do you remember it?” 

Tears fall down her cheeks, but she doesn’t try to wipe them, she just stares at your sleeping form. 

Your brother sighs, leaning on her shoulder as she sits on his other side. “I remember,” he says quietly, the memories of you being withdrawn dancing behind his eyes. “Her boyfriend is coming here.”

“Really?” She asks and your brother nods. 

“She told me to wake her up when he gets here.” 

Mama smiles, “I’m glad she called him.” 

Remus arrives about forty minutes later, your brother sitting beside you about to shake your shoulder when Remus steps out of the car and shakes his head. 

“Let her sleep a little,” your brother’s confused by his request. 

“She asked me to wake you when you get here.” 

Remus smiles despite his anger. He’d stewed all the way to your dad’s house, wondering if you’d be hurt, if you’d not find a quiet place and the argument would keep going. 

He didn’t know what he was walking into, and finding you asleep is much more welcome than the sadder visions of his brain. 

“Would you tell me what it’s all about? Or what sparked it all today?” 

Remus sits on the floor near the foot of the swing, his hand holding onto your ankle as he looks to your brother. 

It’s clear to him, your brother, that Remus cares about you. His eyes haven’t strayed from you for more than thirty seconds, always coming back to rove over your face like he’s making sure you’re still there and still okay. 

Your brother hesitates- he’s never spoken about this with someone outside of the family. “They have warped perceptions of her; our younger brother and sister. They think she’s ungrateful and just doesn’t come home to get dad riled up- she doesn’t come home because they don’t know what she’s done so they didn’t have to get the dad we got.” 

Remus frowns harder, his thumb rubbing a circle on your ankle. 

“And she doesn’t want to tell them?” There’s no judgement in his tone, just curiosity. 

Your brother shakes his head. “She doesn’t think they’d believe her at this point. I’m always trying to talk her into it, but I think it runs a bit too deep to dredge up just like that.” 

Remus nods, eyes fixated on you as you sleep. “Will she want to tell them goodbye?” 

Your brother smiles, “If you leave without meeting our grandma, I think she’ll never forgive you for leaving without her ice cream.” 

Remus laughs, nodding as he stands. 

“You should wake her up first, I’ll go tell Mama you’re here.” Remus waits till your brother walks off into the house to sit beside you. 

You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but sometime later you feel Remus’ hand on your cheek, thumb a little calloused as it rubs at the apple. 

Only he wakes you up this gently. 

“Princess, wake up. Miss your face.” 

“Hey,” your eyes peel open slowly, a little smile spreading on your face. 

Remus’ smile is small, but not forced. He could never do that with you looking up at him- especially with your sleepy eyes. 

“Was the drive okay?” 

He chuckles, it’s belated that you notice you’re alone with him on your front porch. Your brother’s car is still parked outside and so is your grandmother’s. 

“Yeah it was, pretty girl.” 

Remus kisses your forehead, his hand holding your face even though it’s a little sticky with your dried tears. 

“Your brother went to get Mama.” He says softly, letting you twist your body so you were leaning into him. Your entire front body was pressing against his ribs. 

“I’m so tired, Remmy.” Your voice cracks as you speak, Remus can’t bear it. He hates it that you’re this sad. 

“I know baby,” his words are whispered into your hairline, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he feels the quiet tears soak his shirt. “We don’t have to stay here any longer than you want to.” 

You sniffle and nod, letting Remus pull you further into his lap so he can hold you. 

“This is Mama,” you hear your brother’s voice and the light steps of your grandmother and then feel Remus lean forward. You assume he wanted you off his lap, but his hand anchors your hip to his as he shakes the older woman’s hand. 

“Remus.” He introduces himself and she smiles. 

“You’re handsome,” you laugh when you catch Remus’ cheeks flushing. “I have your ice cream here, Bebo. He won’t come out, locked himself away in his office.” 

You shrug, “Doesn’t matter. I’m ready to go.” Remus nods, taking the tub of ice cream for you, letting you climb off his lap before standing. 

“Give me two minutes, baby.” You kiss his jaw as you go, the car keys in your hand.

“She’ll be okay right?” 

Your brother smiles at Remus, Mama frowns. 

“She’s a fighter.” He says but Mama shakes her head. 

“She might not have any more fight left in her.” 

Remus knows what she means to say. He remembers how Sirius had been, the brave faces and attitude to hide how sad he was. He looks at the car and spots you with your head against the glass. 

“Just be patient with her.” Mama says and Remus nods.  “She’ll tell you everything soon enough. She looks at you like you individually hung the stars.” 

Remus blushes again, not really knowing what to say. 

Your older brother pats his shoulder and goes inside, “I think I’ll head out too.” He goes to his car, but not before stopping at Remus’ and giving you a kiss to your forehead. 

Remus frowns, “Does everyone disperse after they fight like this?” He asks your grandmother, not wanting to push but trying to understand. 

“Bebo can’t take more of this, you’ll see. I set him straight, he leaves her alone for months and then starts over. It’s like a cat and a mouse- always prodding and slapping and poking until the mouse has had enough.” 

“And the mouse does what when they’ve had enough?” 

Mama smiles, like she’s holding out just a sliver of hope that it will happen. “Revolt.” 

Remus gives her a hug and makes his way to the car. 

As soon as he opens the door, you smile. Tired lines all over your face as your eyes barely open. 

“Wanna stay over?” You ask, cheek smushed to your shoulder as you look at Remus. 

“How abouts you come over to mine? I’ve got fluffy blankets,” Remus kisses that spot where your forearm and upper arm meet. “Oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip cookies,” a kiss to your shoulder, right on the beauty mark. “And I’ve got all your favourites on dvd.” 

The last kiss is right on the corner of your mouth, chaste and sweet and it makes you smile even more. 

“Sirius and James won’t mind?” 

Remus rolls his eyes, “They’ve gone on their own lover’s retreats today.” Wrong, Remus kicked them out the second he’d hung the phone with you. 

“Okay, but can we stop by my place to get my stuffy?” 

Remus chuckles, “Course we can, dovey. That way we’ll both have clothes at each other’s place.” 

You tut, clipping on your seatbelt as Remus turns over the engine. “You’re not getting your sweater back, Remus.” 

He only rolls his eyes as he pulls out of your dad’s yard, tipping his chin to the ice cream tub. “Will that be okay on the drive?” 

You nod, “Yeah, we can have some with the cookies tonight.” 

[sweetpascal]

" someplace nice "

summary: when simon finally comes back home from deployment, he makes sure he spoils you in the best way possible. *wink wink*

warnings: cursing, teasing touches, husband!simon needs a warning of its own UGH, filthy car sex, messy pussy eating, wet noises, missonaryyy, filthy nasty dirty talk, we already know simon has the mouth of a sailor hehe

wc: 2.8k

notes: first of all, i wanna give a big big big shoutout to @suimon because without her AMAZING FUCKING PHENOMENAL works of art, i wouldn't have gotten out of my writing funk and they truly have inspired me 🫶🏼 second of all, i was on twitter and came across this spicy video and it basically helped me create whatever this is 😭 enjoy !

.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・.・゜゜・

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to go out tonight. in fact, you’re ecstatic to go out with your husband. it’s only been two days since simon has been back from being deployed for almost one month. he had spent the two days sleeping and getting up to eat when it’s necessary, only to go back to sleeping. you didn’t care about that. you were just happy that he was back home. safe. alive. on the third day, he surprises you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“we’re going out t’night,” he tells you, eyes all soft with a barely there smile on his lips when you go nose deep into the flowers and sniffing deeply with a pleased smile on your face. “i won’t tell you where. but it’s gonna be a nice place.”

that night, you got ready with nervous butterflies bubbling in the pit of your stomach. it had been so long since you and simon have been out on a date night. with his deployments and your full-time job, having time for yourselves, let alone as a couple was a rarity these days.

you sprayed yourself with simon’s favorite perfume of yours and did a once over in the mirror. your hair looked beautiful, your makeup was on point, your outfit wasn’t too flashy nor too casual - it was a body hugging dress with thin straps and tasteful cleavage and some wedged heels. as you walked downstairs, you saw simon waiting for you at the bottom with his keys in hand. he was dressed so nicely and the color of his dress shirt matched your dress. with tight fitting slacks and his ‘going out’ boots, you knew you’d be staring at him all night long. your cheeks warmed when you caught his gaze. his lips had parted and you could’ve sworn his eyes sparkled. although your heels added a few inches to your height, it was still nothing compared to simon. he still stood above you, two and a half heads taller.

“so.. how do i look?”

he didn’t like how hesitant you sounded. with a slow step forward, his finger hooked under your chin to lift your head up. god, the smell of him was mouth watering. you’re on your ovulating schedule so his natural musk combined with his cologne was like sinking your teeth into the tenderest meat there is. you nearly moaned. nearly.

“you look.. almost as beautiful as the day i met you,” he told you, so genuine, so soft, and so in love.

“almost?” you giggled and caught him off guard by pulling him down and clumsily kissing his chin instead of his lips.

“mhm,” he grumbled and led the way outside to his suv.

dinner went smoothly. simon had taken you both to a nice little italian restaurant downtown. it was the perfect place for a romantic night. the tables were dimly lit with candles and fresh flowers. he did everything a gentleman should do. pulling your chair out, knowing your favorite dish and ordering it for you, getting you your own dessert, paying. but the night still had a salacious vibe to it. for some reason, simon just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. his hand kept brushing up on your thigh, subtly hiking your dress up to feel your skin under his fingertips. you had to quietly scold him as the restaurant was nowhere near empty and your table wasn’t secluded from wandering eyes.

“can’t help it,” he told you in your ear, his voice all low and gruff and husky in a way that always had you tingling. “my wife s’just so fuckin’ gorgeous to look at.” and with that, he left a warm kiss under your earlobe, knowing exactly that was the spot he knew makes you whimper. and you did. only loud enough for him to her.

during the car ride home, it began to rain. it was damn near impossible to drive with the way the rain pelted hard and fast onto the windshield and roof. simon cursed under his breath, the hand resting on your thigh tightening for a brief second. you swallowed down a soft moan as it got lodged in the back of your throat. but simon, having the ears of a true soldier, heard it. he fucking hears everything. you hated and loved it simultaneously.

breaking free from your thoughts, the car swerves to the side to go down an empty road leading to an abandoned part. it was the only place farthest from town. no busy streets. no houses. no stores. it was deserted.

“si?” you were getting confused when he put the car into park and turned the ignition off. he turns on the top light and then turns to you. you expected him to give you a kiss with how he’s leaning over the console, but instead he reaches under your passenger seat, pulls the lever, and forcefully slides your seat further back so it puts a big amount of space between you and the dashboard. “simon?!”

“gimme a minute,” was all he says before getting out of the car and getting wet from the rain.

the door slams shut and you’re twisting and turning in your seat. it was pitch black outside with no streetlights, no house lights, no nothing. your side door is yanked open and simon hops in, slamming it shut and locking it after. he’s on his knees in front of you in the passenger side as you’re still in the seat, dumbfounded. he starts to unbutton his dress shirt as he stares down at you. the dim light in the car casts shadows on his face and he looks so fucking good.

your breathing starts picking up as he kneels before you shirtless. he then starts to unstrap your wedged heels, carelessly throwing them into the backseat. you finally let out a moan when he grabs your hips and forces you to slide down your seat and your thighs fall open.

“fuck, you smell so good,” simon grunts and buries his face between your thighs to mouth and nose at your covered cunt. he licks and sucks through the fabric, further getting it wet with his saliva. “taste like fuckin’ heaven.” he’s quick to slide your panties down and hoists your dress up to pool around your hips, fully exposing your bare cunt to his eyes and his eyes only.

“s-simon,” you whimper softly, eyebrows drawn and lips parted. the ache in your core began to hurt. your hips bucked and your thighs twitched. you didn’t know what you wanted. his hot, messy tongue. his long, powerful fingers. or his thick, hard cock. all you can utter is, “please.” please, anything.

immediately, he bows his head and licks a hot stripe from asshole to clit. he focuses more on your clit. he widens his tongue and uses his big hands to hook underneath your knees to press them into your chest. the wet slurps and hot puffs of air all over your messy pussy has you keening with uncontrollable twitches.

“ooh fuck, fuck, oh my god!” you grab onto his wide wrists, manicured nails digging into the skin for some stability. “fuck me. please, fuck me!”

when your voice gets all high pitched and whiny, simon knows it’s go-time. with one hand reaching down to expertly unbutton and slide down his slacks, he uses his other hand to spread your thighs open. your right foot rests on the window ledge. with the dim lighting and the rain pattering on the car roof, everything about this was romantic. simon lowers his head and gives your lips messy, hard kisses. all tongue. all teeth. heavy breathing and hushed moans. you tasted your slick and a hint of wine on his tongue. if that wasn’t the perfect combination, you didn’t know what was.

“you ready f’me?” his voice is so gruff and thick with lust. he taps the head of his leaking cock on your messy cunt. the lewd noises made you want to cover your face from embarrassment of how wet you are. “hm? ‘s this little cunt ready f’me to fuck her?” god, the things he says would be enough to make a deaf nun cry. but you didn’t care. you ached for him, everywhere.

“plea-please, si,” you weakly whimpered. your body was on fire and you were close to tears. wetness made your lashes clump and you sniffled softly. “need you. need it bad. need you.”

he tuts. he actually tuts. and the condescending smile he sends you makes you all the more embarrassed as your cunt leaked even more slick. “poor angel,” he croons and grins wolfishly. “poor, poor baby.”

and then finally, finally, he dips the head inside your pathetic little hole. and inch by inch, he slides in and then slides back out. he slides in again a little more and slides out again. the teasing torture was enough to make you start crying. simon’s arms wrapped around your trembling frame and he allows you to bury your face in his bare shoulders. you’re hugging his big, beefy body to yourself, your hands desperately holding onto his sides.

“i-i can’t ta-take it! fuck me, please, please, simon, please.” you’re babbling incoherently, sobbing softly into his skin and curling your toes as he grinds his cock up and down your cunt before finally sliding all the way in.

“there we go,” he coos in your ear. “there’s my girl.”

almost instantly, the sobbing stops and is replaced with garbled moans and punched gasps. your lips are open on his shoulder and drool slowly begins to seep out. you hug him closer as warmth explodes throughout your entire body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“‘m y’girl,” you can barely form a coherent sentence.

“that’s right,” simon huffs, now starting to work his hips faster against yours. “my good girl.”

his hips smack into yours, his thickness filling you repeatedly. over and over and over again. the lewd wet noises of your slick leaking onto his balls and maybe his thighs has your cheeks flaming up. simon pounds into you, forcing every moan out of your chest and spilling from your lips, no matter how bad you wanted to quiet them as you two were still in the car and anybody could pull up. everything felt so good. he starts speeding up his thrusts, now pounding into you at an alarming speed and causing you to scream hoarsely in the small space. and then he slows to a grinding halt.

“mm, mm, mm,” you whimpered in his shoulder, tears freely sliding down your cheeks from the excessive pleasure you're receiving with little kisses of pain.

simon hears your reaction and does it again, this time creating a rhythm. he’ll fuck into you at a high speed and then slow down. he feels your tits bouncing against his chest and the way your swollen clit is continuously bumping against his pelvis.

“yeah,” he grunts in your ear, tightening his arms around your non-stop shaking body. “fuckin’ take my fuckin’ cock.”

your eyes slowly cross as he slows again, only fucking you with deep, slow, grinding thrusts. you’re 100% sure you’re leaking onto the seat right now. you wouldn’t be surprised if you were. simon’s cock was heaven and hell. you were obsessed. addicted, even. it look a lot of practice for you to take every inch in the early stages of your relationship. he made sure to take his time training your cunt into swallowing his hardness. simon pulled up just enough to capture your lips in a hot, messy kiss. he grinds deep inside, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix deliciously. your hands desperately grasped the sides of his face, your tongue sloppily entering his mouth and circling around his.

“can’t get ‘nough of you” simon grumbles. he keeps kissing and kissing as he grinds his hips in slow, deep circles. “my wife is jus’ so fuckin’ needy, eh?” the subtle cockiness in his tone had your pussy clenching. he grins at that and pistons his hips, fast and hard and unrelenting.

“ah! ah! ah! aaah!” you squealed and scratched down his back. you’ve been on edge for however long. time was nonexistent and this was torture. you needed that final nudge. a certain thing that helped the rollercoaster of euphoria finally crash down from the tip of the hill. “n-need.. cum. need.. n-need to cu-um!” god, you probably sounded so pathetic.

simon grunts every time he delivers hard thrusts that would’ve made your entire body slide up the seat if it weren’t for his arms wrapped around you. your thighs twitched non-stop. your toes curled and repeatedly thumped against the window. clinging onto your husband, your moans start getting more high pitched and drawn out as you got closer and closer, but simon knew what you needed. he always knew what you need. he pulls back enough to direct his attention to your neglected clit, so puffy and swollen and glistening in your slick from having no attention paid to it. simon slows his hips again and grinds to a slow halt once more. his cock throbs as your walls twitched and tightened around him, eagerly sucking him deeper.

“you poor, poor girl,” he tuts, splaying a large hand over your tummy and humming pleased as he feels the bulge of his cock nestled deep inside. “jus’ need my thumb, eh?” with the first swipe, your nails dug deeper into his skin and your thighs nearly shut. and from that reaction, simon knew it was time to finally let his beautiful wife cum.

and for the last time, his hips smack against yours at a fast speed, pounding and fucking as if tonight was the end of the world and you two had to say goodbye to each other. when his thumb lays against your clit, rubbing circles at the same rhythm of his quick hips, the dam finally broke. your body forcibly arched and your head slides between the seat and the backseat window. simon forces your thighs to keep spread open and grunts into your throat as your pussy contracts around his cock. all of your moans kept spilling out - you couldn’t stop them even if you tried. it was like electricity was coursing through your body. the wave of euphoria crashed at an alarming speed and you’re sure you’re screaming, but it sounds like you’re underwater. simon was stunned, in all honesty, at how hard you came. and you just won’t stop.

“agh!” he grunts and pulls his thumb away from your overly sensitive clit. he instead wraps his arms back around your trembling body and does three good, hard thrusts before the knot tightened and tightened and he spills inside of you. he grinds deep and slow, making sure none is wasted and is settled thickly inside your womb.

heavy breathing and weak moans echo in the car. the heavy rain slowed to a gentle drizzle. your thighs couldn’t stop twitching. simon lowers his head and kisses your pulse point so very gently, humming pleased when you sign contently. he kisses the side of your face tenderly, tracing a line from your pulse, up to your soft jaw, and then your plushy cheek. your breathing finally slowed and you lift your head to look up at simon. a bead of sweat slid down his temple and you had half a mind to lick it away. the two of you look into each other’s eyes and there wasn’t a single thing that could make you look away. and there wasn’t a single thing that could ruin this moment. simon had to swallow down the lump in his throat.

“d’you realize jus’ how much i love you?” he asks you quietly, head tilting to brush his strong nose against yours. “i would go to the ends of the earth f’you.”

at this whisper of a confession, you sniffle and let out a watery laugh, a lonesome tear sliding down your cheek that is quickly wiped away by his thumb. he leans down and hovers his lips over yours. you take the last step and curl your fingers into his hair to pull him down. when your lips touched, it felt like everything disappeared at that moment. the two of kissed and kissed until you needed air. and even though, you would take gulps of air and find his lips again. his cock was still snug deep inside. even soft, he still had some length and weight to him. but you loved this. it made you feel more connected to each other. the rain had stopped completely now. you both broke your kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting. simon lightly thumbs at your lip to wipe it away.

“now, lets get you home.”

[spanktony]

GOT HER OWN. — karina. (part one)

“𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝘁. 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵, 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘁.”

in which — y/n is a valorant streamer who loves trolling and chasing a spot on the top 10 valorant clutches list. when katarinabluu, a high-ranked player, takes the #1 spot, y/n throws shade during their stream—only for katarina to clap back online.

pairing ! —streamer!karina x streamer!gn!reader

genre ! — smau w a little bit of written text, enemies to lovers, comedy

warnings ! — kys/kms jokes, swearing, this is very bad 😕

featuring ! — aespa, yunjin (le sserafim), keeho (p1harmony), minji (newjeanz), and more

a/n: this isn’t a long series just a 2 part (maybe) series (part two)

it was a routine you followed every month: react to the top 10 valorant clutches of the month video, hope to see one of your clips make the cut, and play it cool if it didn’t. at this point, it was less about the recognition and more about the banter with your chat.

you weren’t the most well known valorant pro out there—your channel had a decent amount of subscribers, but it was nowhere near the top 100. you had a pretty loyal following that you had worked hard to build since your first few days on youtube and twitch.

and as the months passed, your fan base was only getting bigger.

today was no exception. you had set a stream up for your regular wednesday afternoon time slot. you were going to try and squeeze in a few rounds with a few friends before you had to get ready for your night classes.

but first, you needed to react to the new list. it had dropped the night before, and your notifications had been buzzing ever since.

your fans loved hyping you up every time these compilations came out, spamming your inbox with messages like “this has to be your month!” or “if you’re not on this list, we riot.” it was all in good fun, but deep down, you couldn’t lie—it’d be nice to finally see your name make the cut.

“alright, chat,” you said as the stream went live, your usual intro music playing softly in the background. “you know the drill. top 10 valorant clutches of the month. place your bets now: am i finally on this one, or are we adding another ‘rigged’ tally to the scoreboard?”

username: no way they missed that icebox play last week right?

username Manifesting y/n at #1 this time!

username if you don’t make it we ride at dawn

username 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

username they’re saving your clip for a ‘top fails’ compilation 😭

you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “hilarious. let’s just get into it, yeah?”

you pulled up the video and hit play. as the countdown began, your commentary started up right away.

clip #10 was decent, a 1v4 clutch with some clean sheriff shots. “not bad,” you admitted, nodding approvingly. “but let’s be real, chat. i’ve done better.”

clip #9 featured an insane operator flick. “okay, now that’s spicy,” you said, impressed. “still waiting for my clip, though.”

by the time it got to the top three, you hadn’t seen your name, but you weren’t surprised. “alright, here’s the moment of truth. if i’m not in the top three, i’m officially calling this list a scam.”

then, the #1 clip began to play. the name on the screen caught your eye immediately: katarinabluu.

your face froze for a second as the clip began—an ace on icebox, clean headshots, and a flick with an operator that sealed the round. it was an undeniably impressive play, but your competitive streak refused to give in.

“that’s it?” you said, pausing the video. you shrugged. “but let’s be real—if that’s #1, this list is definitely rigged.”

username who the hell is that

username y/n who???

username: HELLO??? KARINA’S GONNA SEE THIS

username not you dragging her when she’s literally better than you ☠️

username 😭😭

you leaned back in your chair, smirking at the chat’s chaos as the messages flew by faster than you could read.

“what? i’m just saying!” you said, raising your hands in mock defense. “she’s good, but if that’s the best clutch of the month, then clearly the editors need to broaden their horizons. my icebox clip was cleaner.”

the chat exploded even more.

username oh you’re done for

username: why are you here starting beef w karina i can’tttttt

username: Plz she’s gonna roast you so bad

username 100% she’s gonna watch this later and go feral

username you done fucked up 💀

you laughed at their reactions, brushing it off as just another day of trolling with your viewers.

a/n: lolll idk how i feel about this 😔

part two

[adeleidetheexplorer]

ᰋ  ׅ࣪   ꒰  minors dni 18+ pac reading detailed ♡︎ your (future) person's hidden sexual thoughts  ꒱  

01. 02. 03.

disclaimer : this 18+ reading was made for adult audiences. it contains adult language and content and it may not suitable for minors and may not be for some adult readers. read at your own risk and be open-minded. kindly skip this post and avoid interacting if you don't feel it, stop reporting my posts! *chuu*

01

cards: world, 30C, ToW, QoS, KoW, SoC.

this person's hidden thoughts is that they want to see the reaction of their partner's body and theirs too when having juicy time together. not only that, but they also want to see the reaction of their partner on how they're performing and moaning while doing those things. they would likely want to have a huge mirror in front where they can see both of the oral bodies.

if this is a man, they have a huge manhood, while if this is a woman, they will have a small and tight lady bits. when it comes to the chest part, they are big, well circled, and very delicate to look at and to suck up, no matter what gender it is. i see that they may be interested in collecting different types of sex toys to pleasure themselves as well as their partner. i also don't think that your first sexual encounter with them will be their first; perhaps they will be someone who may have experience with this kind of things.

they also desire to carry, embrace, or own the body of their partner all night or day. they want to enjoy every inch of you; they want this togetherness to happen. they are someone who is very picky when it comes to their partner and places; it's like you can't just fuck this person around and everywhere you want to.

02

cards: 40P, 9oS, the devil, judgement, 60W, PoW.

holding, caressing and handcuffs are the ones i am picking up here. they want to touch their partner's body precisely, they want to own and say each part of it's body "this is mine, this, this and this one". they may want you to look elegant or the first night with them might happen in such milk and honey places.

this person wants to find someone who will able to share their sex fantasies, someone who can match their passion when it comes to sex appetite. this person prefer to do this in a way of secret and dark like a very private meeting. there's also a little bit of desire here where everytime they got crush on someone they usually daydreaming making it with that person. i don't think they will tell this to anyone since they likely embarrassed talking that deep secret of them, they probably gonna keep it by themselves alone. other than that, they purely want to experience unwavering and shivering affection of sex. altogether, this pile is giving me an energy of two couple dancing in unison and making a beat along with the waves of music.

03

cards: hermit, QoC, PoW, 100P, SoS, 90S.

pile 2 and 3, both have two similar cards - this might be means that you maybe a little bit attracted to pile 2, if yes then maybe it have message for you. so as i see here, this person will love this aloneness time together in the near future but right now, they probably prefer doing it alone. if you gonna asked me, they're not really good with it but they trying their best and still on the phase where they still on learning process. they're not yet reading for any sexual things. not yet because they're still trying to figuring it out. if not then this spicy secrets of them is likely to be confidential forever. there's also a fifty-fifty chances that they become obsess with their partner.

but before all of that they do want first an emotional relationship security. when it comes to their favorite parts of human body, they probably like - bum and breast parts and they may want to squeeze, cupping, holding, sucking and massaging it. this is about holding and locking their lover around their arms. i don't know if you would like this part but they fancy phone sex such as vc and chat ones, nude photos, giving head, going down, 69 and anything related to oral sex. they have crave for someone who is foreigner, someone who looks good and someone who is unique from their eyes. if not they likely want to do it in such a far away places most likely overseas. the first time with them or a special getting together might happen in other places, a foreign country as i said and maybe this a honeymoon? or a relaxation for the both of you. cuddling after sexual intercourse is also included to their desire.

©thecelestialperiwinkle