#she's always had a layer of intrigue to her
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lanabuckybarnes · 5 months ago
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| A Door Away |
Minors DNI 18+
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2 weeks. It’s been 2 weeks of biological warfare in the sense of your heat. When he met up with you in the hall, Bucky knew with just with a glance just how fucked he was, and he needed it badly
✧Pairing✧ Alpha!MilitaryVet!Bucky x Omega!Fem!Reader
✧Warnings✧ Alpha!Bucky, Pining, Fluff, Buck being a cutie, Wet dreams, Oral (M), Rut, Heat, A/B/O Themes, Dirty Talk, Petnames [Omega, Pretty Girl, Baby, Princess], Dirty talk, Confessions - Any other warnings let me know
✧Word Count✧ 3.7k
✧Events✧ Hot Bucky Summer | WEEK 2 | “What should I call you? | Master, Alpha, Pet | @buckybarnesevents
Buckys-wintersoldier 2K followers Bingo | Square: Confessions in a weird situation | @buckys-wintersoldier
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James Bucky Barnes was aloof. He kept to himself most of the time, rarely speaking beyond a hello or a soft ‘how are you?’ You had to admit that there was something about the man that intrigued you. Was it his cold gaze that seemed to melt whenever he looked at you, those rippling arms and toned body you’d caught a glimpse of through your peephole one warm day. Or maybe it was the sweet gentle nature he hid behind those layers of hardened emotions. You can always remember the first time you met your neighbour face to face. He held a basket in his hand filled to the brim with household items that you could easily have forgotten with a big move.
“Oh hi” you chirped when you noticed that you’d been taking in the man for a little too long. His scent captivates you, keeping you glued to your doormat. A rich vanilla permeating your nostrils, it was one of the nicest scents you’d encountered around your time with alphas.
He cleared his throat, the tip of his nose and ears darkening to a deep pink.
“My sister…I mentioned to her I had a new neighbour and she made this…for you” his voice dropped off at the end of the sentence, his deep blue eyes unable to hold your own for more than a minute. He was peculiar for an Alpha, most of them reeked of arrogance, treating their subordinates like gum on the sole of their shoe. But here he was, a basket stretched out to you and his eyes pinned to his shoes.
You’d been staring again.
A few months into living in the new apartment, everything was finally settled and you were settling into your little home just great. Bucky helped an awful lot which surprised you beyond belief. When your AC broke and your landlord wouldn’t pick up your calls James knocked on your door, tools in hand. He had it fixed in under an hour.
The same with your shower, sink and that time you bought a bigger bed, determined you could do it yourself only to knock on James’ door with your tail tucked between your legs.
After an offer of his favourite dish and beer, he found it hard to keep the ‘annoyed’ scowl on his face. You were just too cute looking up at him like that, with wide puppy dog eyes, looking so defeated. His animal brain lived for the domestic life you two had accidentally created.
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“Today was nice Buck” You turned in his embrace to lean into his side a little more, your legs tucked under you and your face inches away from his. The swans in the water splashed around, courting each other with their pretty dances.
“I’m glad you liked it” he let his hand, the metal one that he’d lost while serving, cup your cheek, the plates clicking softly as he soothed his thumb over the bone.
His eyes dropped to the perfect bow of your lips, how close they were to his. It would take only a slight movement to connect them, swallowing your soft sounds.
“You don’t gotta stare,” you teased. He lurched forward, capturing your lips in a tight embrace, his tongue pressing against your mouth looking for entry which you gladly granted.
There was no fight for dominance in the kiss, your tongues dancing instead. His lungs stung with lack of oxygen but he didn't want to pull away, he couldn’t, your soft floral scent mixing with the dewy air keeping him trapped. When it became too much you parted, his lip captured by your teeth.
There was something so primal in your eyes, a longing that had him twitching inside his jeans in anticipation.
“James” his name came out of your mouth as a breathy whimper, almost like it was excruciating to say his name. The air around you both changed into something humid, biting at him, rearing its erogenous head.
He didn’t even notice the way your hand had drifted down, his breath catching in his throat as you rubbed your palm over him.
“Need you James” you whispered so sweetly in his ear, leaving soft kisses down his neck, completely missing his scent gland. The rhythmic clanks of his belt sounded in his ears and you pulled back with a victorious sound.
You looked like an angel as you pulled him from his briefs, pumping his length until precum beaded at the tip. Your eyes never left his as you sunk, your tongue rolling out to taste him.
You were so close he could feel your hot breath against his tip, your pink muscle drawing ever closer—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Bucky’s eyes shot open. His chest heaving against his mattress euphoria, evidence of his actions that he’d just imagined soaked his underwear and sheets.
But the dream was more than just a run-of-the-mill thing. It only meant one thing for Bucky. His rut.
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To say you were growing concerned for James was an understatement. For over two weeks now you hadn't seen him, hadn’t heard a thing from him at all. It was like he just vanished. It was when he didn’t show up for your weekly meal together that it reached its boiling point.
You couldn’t even eat the food you prepared as you sat, staring blankly at the spot James would usually sit, letting you drag on and on about your day with a soft smile or a little comment here and there. Your heart always fluttered when he did that, even if it was just a small hum it sent butterflies flapping about aimlessly in your stomach.
You went to bed in a sour mood, hangry and entirely terrified for your friend.
You tossed and turned in dreamless slumber, any slight sound shocking you awake, no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t force yourself into deeper rest.
The clock on your bedside table read 3am when you heard a bang in the hallway, a curse following it. You slipped out from under the covers and grabbed the first thing that came into your hand, your dad’s baseball bat he gave to you for good luck—and for a scenario just like this one.
You crept silently down your hall to the front door, avoiding each creaky floorboard that Bucky promised to fix sometime last week. Peaking through the peephole you found the very man that had made your life a living pain for the past few weeks.
You swung your door open quickly, meeting the wild eyes of James, anger bubbling in your chest fighting with the concern you also felt. The concern won by a slim margin.
“James” you whispered, inspecting his body with your eyes. His hair was a tousled mess, and his pale blue shirt was wrinkled. Still the same man and with no sign of injury, except the pained expression across his face.
“Bucky. Call me Bucky” he forced a smile but he couldn’t hide the low rumblings of a growl in his broad chest. His brain short-circuited at the way your sweet voice sounded. It brought him right back into his bed and into that dream. He couldn’t deal with that and he sure as hell wouldn’t force you to either. He wasn’t that kind of alpha.
Then your nose picked up on something in the air around you, that vanilla smell that Bucky had, it swirled with something much more fruity, something suggestive that had your omega brain wrestling with your logical human side.
His rut.
That’s where he was.
His voice rasped as he spoke, lying dormant for too long but your mind was far too occupied with more nefarious thoughts. You couldn’t help but imagine him, legs spread wide on a couch, his naked chest blushed pink, his mouth agape as strangled moans, growls, any sound of pleasure falling from him. His hips fucking up into his hand, or one of those silicone pussy’s you’d seen in porn.
Would he be thinking of you while he called out for his omega?
“Hello?” You shook out of your trance, realising that you’d been staring at Bucky the whole time. You shot him an awkward smile, confusing him further.
“Bye.”
Slam. Your door shook on its hinges as you slid down the other end of it.
Bye? Why the fuck did you say that? You let your head fall backwards, sucking in some much-needed fresh air. Your thighs clenched, your hand wandering between your legs to your soaked panties. And that was only because of his smell.
Bucky was no better, the remains of his rut flaring up at the sight of you, in that tank and panties. You hadn’t anticipated anyone and opened the door in a panic, completely forgetting about your half-naked look. Bucky grunted, mumbling under his breath about how ridiculous he was being. He threw his keys into the bowl and stripped off his clothes, heading straight for the shower. If he left it any longer he didn’t want to think of the ways he’d ruin your tiny body.
His cock throbbed at the notion. God he hated his brain sometimes.
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You shot out of bed in a panic at the first twinge. It couldn’t be happening, you hadn’t had one in months. The second twinge had your legs like jelly, your hands slapping onto the nearest surface.
Oh, it was happening, and you had only a little time to prepare.
Throwing on a pair of sweats and quickly doing your teeth you frantically made your way to the car park to grab your car, almost speeding to the shop just so you could be at home in time.
You raided the store of all its protein products and energy drinks. The bags almost burst at the seam as you carried them to the elevator. Your fingers ached and your body cried out. Come on it won’t be that much longer, you reassured that animalistic part of your brain.
Stepping out onto your floor you struggled down the carpeted hall, the bags feeling heavier and heavier. Thankfully Bucky would be at work, you didn’t have any chance of bumping into him.
You fished for your keys in your pocket, grasping them tightly before fumbling with them.
“Need a hand?” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh yesss. A range of emotions crossed your brain at his deep voice, your logical brain cursing while your omega brain reeled.
Yes. you need a hand, let the alpha know what’s wrong. Your animal brain demanded.
Don’t be fucking stupid, he’s your neighbour and he doesn’t even like you. You’re wanting us to wriggle our ass in his face and beg to be bred, yeah I’m sure he wouldn’t call the cops.
It wasn’t unheard of for omegas to ask alphas for help during their heat, kind of like a friends-with-benefits scenario. But you’d be damned if you were asking Bucky for help. You could get a bit…passionate about sex and it doubled during your heat, you liked Bucky too much to let him bear witness to that, your mind plaguing you with thoughts of him hightailing it and running at the first sight of you.
You’d settle with your little knotted friend that rested neatly in your drawer.
After politely declining Bucky’s offer you for straight to work.
Night drew closer, your nest established on your floor, perfectly poised just the way you like it. Energy drinks and your trusty silicone dildo lay off to the side.
You took your time showering, doing your entire routine. Drying yourself off before lathering your body in lotion, you didn’t even bother to put on some clothing, instead settling yourself into the nest in a foetal position.
Your hips rolled into the air, soft whimpers falling from you at around 2am. Without hesitation you grabbed the rubber cock, squirting some lube on it and running it through your soaked slit. You pushed it in slowly until the knot pressed against your entrance, your pussy not quite ready yet but with the way your wetness rolled out of your body, it wouldn’t be too long.
Bucky could hear your whimpering from the next apartment, your scent wafting through his house and straight into his nostrils. His cock twitched at your soft sounds, your muffled pleading for an Alpha to fill you up.
His mind wandered, were you using your fingers to get off or one of those cocks he knew companies made to exploit little omega’s like you.
“Mmm fuck Alpha hurts so much need your pups”
God it was going to be a long night.
The longer you went on the worse Bucky got, his cock dribbling all over his tight briefs, his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. He sat on the side of his bed, his head leaning against the wall, listening to you please yourself.
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2 weeks later your heat was showing no signs of subsiding. Your supplies from your first run had gone long ago and you had to ask your friend to grab you some more. You’d never felt a heat like this, usually they’d last a couple of days and that would be that but you were still riding your dildo a week later.
“Fuckfuckfuck…Alpha please so good” you slurred, a flurry of whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you rocked your hips back and forth, the head of the dildo brushing against your sweet spot. Your pussy gushing more slick around the plastic, smearing all over your thighs and onto the blankets of your nest.
It just wasn’t cutting it anymore. Your orgasms shook through you but you were left unsatisfied and riding the rubber cock desperately. Trying to seek that one good, back arching blissful climax that had you sinking into your sheets in exhaustion.
But it never came.
“Oh fuck Alpha gimme that fucking knot mmmm need your knot so bad, need you to breed me full” your moans mixed with the sloshing of your cunt, your lips stretching around the knot as it sunk into you repeatedly with a sloppy sound, your fingers frantically strumming your clit for anything. You could feel the coils in your stomach tighten almost painfully but no matter what you did they just wouldn’t snap.
“Fuckkkkk” You stopped your movements, sitting on the dildo and catching your breath. You were at a loss, you didn’t know what to do, if you didn’t cum you were going to drive yourself insane but no matter how hard you fucked yourself it just wouldn’t make anything happen.
You were so desperate, so fucking needy. You needed an Alpha.
The dildo fell out of you with a pop as you stood on shaky legs, each step towards your bedside cabinet sending pleasured shocks up your spine. You unlocked your phone, scrolling through your contacts until you reached the one you needed.
‘Bucky 🤭🩵’
For a second you hovered over the call button, unsure if you should do it. But need prevailed and the ringing brought you back to reality.
“Hello?”
You almost moaned pathetically down the phone at the sound of his voice, thick with sleep deprivation and so fucking husky.
“B-Bucky…” you hadn’t thought this far, your brain was so fogged with need that you didn’t even stop to think about how you’d ask him for help. Bucky’s voice at the end of the line was quick to respond. You didn’t need to tell him a thing he could hear just how much you struggled.
“I’ll be over in 5”
You could’ve cum on the spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you bit your lip and clenched your thighs. You looked around your room, a mess of blankets and pillows arranged in a circle on your floor and in the centre, your dildo. You sunk to the floor, no longer able to stand as the waves were just too much. The hardwood hurt your hands and knees as you crawled into the centre of your nest but you couldn’t care.
You were finally getting help and you couldn’t have been happier with who it was.
Your cheek smooshed against one of the pillows as you lay waiting, your hips grinding into the air subconsciously. You were so wrapped up in your trance that you failed to hear the front door opening or the soft knock on your bedroom door.
“Look at you pretty ‘mega” Bucky drawled from behind you, his slate blue eyes boring into your core. A fresh wave of slick trickled from you at the sight of him, his smell infecting the air in a way that had you gulping down oxygen like you were starved of it.
You watched as he slipped his shirt over his head, dog tags jingling before resting on his sternum, his metal hand drifting down to unbuckle his belt. You took him in like he was a cold glass of water on a boiling hot day. He was the magic medicine to your ailment.
He wasted no time in pushing his jeans and briefs to the floor, his thick cock slapping against washboard abs. He was so much bigger than the toy you relied on, your brain fought with itself, wondering if you could even take a cock that size.
You’d come this far.
“How’d you want it pretty girl? Want me to fuck you like you are just now, on your hands and knees presented to me like a little slut. Maybe you want me to flip you over and pound you, let you watch me as I hit every little inch of that hot ‘mega cunt” he spoke, words dripping with lust.
“I don’t care please Alpha” You slipped, pushing your ass back to him, waving it enticingly as more slick dripped from your folds. You needed it now, none of the teasing.
“Alpha?” He questioned with a teasing smirk, sinking to his knees behind you and flipping you with ease onto your back.
Fuck looked beautiful all fucked out, your face wet with frustrated tears, your pupils so dilated you could barely see the colour. Your chest heaving causing your tits to bounce and that sopping pussy, pathetically clenching around nothing, silently begging for him to fill you, make you full with him and only him.
“What should I call you?” You blinked up at him, blushing lightly despite the fact you lay spread wide for him. You’d never called someone Alpha before, it just fell from your mouth in bliss. Insecurity bubbled up at the thought of maybe Bucky not wanting to be your Alpha, even for just a short period.
Your worries were all squashed when he lined his fat head up with your core, sinking fully in a single thrust.
“Alpha’s fine baby, now lemme fuck that omega brain dumb alright. You don’t gotta think anymore, your alpha will do that for you.”
Dominance radiated off him. The kind that made you want to submit, roll your head back and present your neck for him to mark, letting him claim you.
He slid out slowly, letting you feel every inch, every vein of his length until just his head remained buried inside you before he thrust forward again, his tip kissing your cervix.
His thrusts picked up at the sound of your heavenly sounds, your body arching up to meet him, to be as close to him as possible.
“Ohh fuck ‘mega, that pussy ain’t been fucked good in a long time huh, she’s sucking me back in, such greedy little cunt…so fucking tight…that’s alright though, your alpha’s got you now, won’t let that pussy go unsatisfied again” Bucky fell to his elbows, his nose bumping yours as you shared each other's air. Your legs spread underneath him as his hips pushed your thighs open further.
You couldn’t think. he was everywhere. A hand in your hair, his hot breath fanning over your face and neck, his dick filling you up. You were ruined for any other Alpha you just knew.
Sobs bounced off the walls, sounds you’d never heard before falling from your mouth. Your hands clung to him, wrapping around his back, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.
Fuck you were so close, those coils tightening deep in your belly again, hot spikes of pleasure rolling up your spine, your cunt spewing your essence around him.
“Fuck ‘mega my fucking knots swelling already ohhh shit, my knot ain’t swelled this fast before” he laughed between guttural grunts, his teeth nipping your jawline.
“Mmmm Alpha” you heave, your pussy clenching him tightly.
“Gonna cum baby? Gonna squirt around my fucking knot yeah? Oh fuck oh shit come on sweet omega, cum on my fucking dick.”
Your world went white when the swollen base of his cock pushed into you, stretching you wide, your preen stuck in your throat as your body convulsed with such an intense orgasm. Bucky rammed his whole weight into you a few more times before following suit, dumping his huge load inside your ruined cunt.
You don’t know when he rolled you over, his arms wrapping around you, your leg hooked over his hip. Your soft whines were the only indication that you hadn’t passed out, along with the look of sheer unbridled joy melting over your features. The softness and domestic nature of it all grounded Bucky. He didn’t feel regret like he thought he would, or guilt that he’d corrupted you
He felt at home.
“You did so good for me, pretty girl, don’t know anyone that’s taken my dick so good. Such a pretty little ‘mega” he praised, nuzzling his nose into your hair.
“Love you alpha” You forced despite your tongue feeling like lead in your mouth.
“I love you too princess, now get some rest alright? I’ll be here when you get up, then I’ll make you feel nice and good again.”
Bucky’s warm embrace and strong scent lulled you to sleep. A deep satisfied slumber that you hadn’t felt for months, a smile on your face.
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cloudzoro · 4 months ago
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Non-sexual turn ons | One Piece ♡
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small, innocent things you do that turns them on
masterlist
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characters: law, nami, robin, zoro
genre: smut (minors dni)
cw: fem!reader, hair pulling for nami's, semi public making out/heavy petting
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Law - wearing glasses
You had hid your glasses from Law at first, worried that he would find you less attractive, but when he sees the glasses case in your room, he begs you to put them on.
You two have been relaxing in bed together, and innocent kisses quickly escalate to heavy petting. You're straddling him, rocking your hips against his. You start to think you might cum without even taking your clothes off, but Law's firm grip on your hips stops your movement.
“Can you do something for me?” he asks, leaning over to rummage in the bedside table drawer. When he pulls out your glasses case, you go to protest but he speaks before you can open your mouth
“Babe just put them on for me. I want to see them on,” he says. You haven't noticed yet, but he's already hard thinking about what you'd look like. You groan and take them from his hand.
“I don't get why you want me to put them on. It's not like I'm any hotter with them,” you say as you push them onto your face. Law goes to respond, but after seeing you in glasses he freezes. You begin to feel self-conscious because of Law's lack of response. However, you're shocked when you reach your hand up to take off your glasses, and Law shouts out ‘no’.
You're initially confused about his outburst but Law is quick to recover and pulls you in a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth against yours and his hands begin to wander your body. When he pulls back for air, he explains himself.
“you look so fucking sexy in those. Please let me fuck you. Can you feel how hard I am?”
Nami - red lipstick
Date night between you and Nami was always special, but this time you've decided to get ready together. The silence had been tension-filled, With both of you keeping an eye on each other as you went about your beauty routine.
You're putting your makeup on, and you've got it down to a science and move freely, stealing glances at the woman sitting next to you. You turn back to add the final touch: a red lipstick. You're so focused on getting the application right that you don't notice Nami is watching you.
As the stick glides over your lips, Nami can't take her eyes off it. The movement is simple, but it has her stomach fluttering. As soon as you finish and turn to her for approval, she pulls you into an open-mouthed kiss. The kiss smudges the lipstick and transfers onto her skin. She sees you with smudged lipstick around your perfect pout and feels her soaked panties clinging to her pussy. She has lipstick smudged on her face too, and it gives her an idea.
“Can you put some more on, baby?” she asks, handing you the lipstick tube. You nod and obey her. She watches intently, running her fingers through your hair as you put on another layer of red lipstick. Once you finish, Nami switches from playing with your hair to gripping it and pulling you towards her bare shoulder.
“wanna leave some other pretty messes on me?” she asks. You don't give a verbal response, instead deciding to attach your mouth to your lover's neck as she lets out a gasp.
Robin - standing up for yourself
Robin's favourite thing to do is observe the always loud, busy environment of the ship and her favourite subject to study is you. She keeps her eye on you as you spend some alone time on the deck, soaking in the sun.
Sanji comes out to talk to you, and your mood plummets. You and Sanji generally got along, but his comments and behaviour had been getting too much to handle recently. You try to let him down nicely, tell him to behave, but when he doesn't - and Nami's not around to smack him - you finally snap.
Robin is intrigued; she's never seen you give anyone this level of attitude. She finds herself excited by the aggressive tone of your voice, which she doesn't get to hear very often. The sharp glare you're giving Sanji as you talk him down is so sexy that Robin almost wishes it was directed at her. Sanji gets himself together and apologises when he realises that he's genuinely upset. You, still angry, just nod and storm off.
Robin follows you into the girls’ room. Nami is busy with Usopp, so the chances of being interrupted are low. When she catches up to you, she checks that you're ok before leaning down to kiss you.
“I like seeing you stand up for yourself. You're so confident. it's so hot”, she says as she pulls you towards her bed. “it makes me want to let you take charge”, she says, and it makes your skin tingle. She's usually more of a service top, but the opportunity to see your aggressive side is too good to pass up. She lies down on the bed, beckoning you to take a seat on her tongue.
“come ride my face.”
Zoro - training together
Zoro reluctantly agreed to train you after you followed him around the Sunny all day, begging him for help. You felt you needed the extra training - and being pinned down by Zoro doesn't sound like a bad use of an evening. He's the only person aboard the ship who doesn't know you like him and you want to use that fact to your advantage sometimes.
You already have the basics of fighting down due to strawhat experience so Zoro suggests going straight to sparring. Zoro is much stronger than you, and he refuses to go easy on someone he has genuine respect for. He knew that he would be pinning you down pretty frequently at first but what he didn't anticipate is how that would make feelings stir inside him that he hadn't felt towards you before.
By the fourth round, you were starting to pick up on Zoro's techniques, and Zoro was feeling relieved about that fact hoping that now he could stop adjusting his hip placement so you wouldn't feel hard cock against you when he pinned you. However, when you do finally get one over on him, you land straddling him with your ass resting just above his bulge.
You freeze above him, and he knows you've felt it. He panics at first, and he accidentally shifts his hips. The friction causes you both to moan slightly. He wants to apologise, but then notices how you're looking at him. You look desperate, like you might cry if he doesn't touch you soon.
“Do you want some help?” you ask, hovering above him. He doesn't know what to say. Are you asking if he needs help getting up or if he needs help with his erection? Zoro breathes out your name and a yes. You grind down against his crotch and bend down to kiss him.
Zoro lifts his hips to help you both and growls against your lips.
“We should go somewhere more private. Anyone could walk in on us here.”
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thank you for reading! any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!! ♡♡
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51voices · 1 month ago
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Max Level: Pleasure Unlocked
Le Sserafim's Miyawaki Sakura x Male reader
AN: So... I may have been a tiny bit late to class today 😅. Why, you ask? Well... I was up all night re-watching Marry My Husband (totally worth it, btw). Anyway, fast forward to class, and I casually checked my phone, and—wait for it—WHAT?! Almost 300 likes for Ms. Kim Chaewon?! You guys are seriously amazing! 💖 This story was supposed to drop tomorrow, but because I love you all so much... here’s a little treat! 😘✨
P.S. Why is this lecture soooo long? Send help! 😂
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Miyawaki Sakura, the eldest member of Le Sserafim, had found a new thrill—one that didn’t involve the stage lights or concert crowds. Live streaming had pulled her into its vibrant, fast-paced world of colorful pixels and instant connection. It wasn’t just a hobby anymore; it became her escape—a digital realm where she could unwind and be herself. Streaming offered her a space where she could share her love for video games in the most authentic way possible. Her laughter would echo through the headset, filling the room with the joy she found in navigating complex game worlds and strategizing with her audience. It was a welcome reprieve from the pressures of K-pop stardom, a place where she could exist without expectation.
But as Sakura’s love for streaming grew, so did the distance between her and Y/N. Y/N cherished their quiet evenings together—the ones filled with soft conversations, playful glances, and the warmth of shared intimacy. Now, those moments seemed to slip away, replaced by the blue glow of Sakura's monitor and the sounds of gaming filling the room. He found himself feeling increasingly sidelined, the comforting presence of his girlfriend diluted by the endless stream of fan interactions and in-game distractions. Every evening, as he sat in their apartment watching her stream, Y/N felt like a shadow in her life, forgotten behind the glow of her screen.
The silence after Sakura's gaming sessions hung in the air, heavy and unfamiliar, a stark contrast to the laughter that used to fill their nights. He would lie in bed, staring at the empty space beside him, wondering when their quiet, intimate nights had been swapped for late-night streams. The late-night absence became more palpable, the connection they once shared now buried beneath layers of bright pixels and fan interactions.
Frustrated and unsure of how to bridge the growing gap between them, Y/N turned to the one person who knew both of them best—Kwon Eunbi, Sakura's former leader and the matchmaker who had brought them together in the first place. Eunbi, always the voice of reason and support, listened with a thoughtful expression as Y/N poured out his concerns.
"I just don't know how to get her attention anymore," Y/N confessed, his voice tinged with frustration. "She used to light up when we were together, but now it feels like I'm competing with a screen."
Eunbi, ever the sage, leaned in with a twinkle in her eye, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "Well, my dear, sometimes you just need to remind her of what she's missing," she said, her tone playful yet reassuring. "There's this little shop downtown. They have... items that might help reignite that spark you're worried about. A little mystery, a little surprise—that's the key."
Y/N blushed at the suggestion, but the idea intrigued him. Maybe Eunbi was right—maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what their relationship needed. "Okay noona," Y/N said with newfound determination. "Take me there. I'll do whatever it takes."
Eunbi grinned. "That's the spirit. Trust me, after this, she'll be more than eager to spend some time away from that screen, and if it doesn't work out... you have my number" the older girl winked before giving a slightly playful slap to Y/N’s behind
As soon as Eunbi led him into the little adult shop tucked away in a quiet side street downtown, Y/N’s nerves melted into curiosity. The shop was intimate, lined with rows of items that promised to stoke passion and bring lovers closer. Eunbi was more than willing to offer her guidance, clearly enjoying herself as she pointed out various products.
"Trust me," Eunbi had said with a wink, picking up a small bullet vibrator from one of the shelves. "This one is discreet but packs a punch, It's perfect for getting things started. She won’t see it coming." Y/N’s cheeks had flushed at the thought, but the image of Sakura’s surprised reaction made her smile. It was perfect for catching his girlfriend off guard.
As they continued browsing, Y/N’s eyes landed on a sleek, curved G-spot vibrating dildo that promised deeper, more intense sensations. He couldn’t help but imagine how Sakura might respond to its use—what that extra thrill might do to rekindle the heat between them. Eunbi happily skips over to Y/N with a box that he hasn't seen before, a rabbit ear vibrator "Y/N you have to get this, I’m telling you Sakura will melt and turn to putty in your hands, I have one myself and it's pretty amazing." Y/N looked at his noona with a skeptical look. Why is she so into this, is his precious noona actually not as innocent as she portrayed to the public?
Thinking about her words he can't deny that the idea of being the one to control Sakura’s pleasure sent a surge of excitement through him. He added it to his growing selection of items.
The final addition was a delicate set of pastel pink lingerie. His girlfriend's favorite color. lace-lined and revealing, something that he knew she would love, he remembered her saying she wanted something similar to this but was always ashamed and embarrassed to buy it
Y/N picked up the set knowing how much it would make his lover feel even sexier. He could already imagine the fabric clinging to his girlfriend's skin, the look in Sakura’s eyes when she sees it. There was no doubt that tonight, he would make sure all of Sakura’s attention was focused on him.
As the duo went to the counter the current cashier was about to take a break and out comes his replacement, someone who Y/N would not have expected to work here.
"Oh Eunbi unnie welcome back Oh! and Y/N oppa, what are you doing here?" the duck looking girl squealed. To say Y/N was shocked is an understatement. His girlfriend's former members, his friends, were all so familiar with this place.
"I was showing Y/N around the store, he needed my help" Responded the eldest. "Oppa is Sakura unnie giving you a hard time?" Yena responded, causing Y/N to shrink into himself in embarrassment. 
The girl started scanning the products one by one, her curious eyes glanced back and forth from y/n and each product he bought. "I didn't think Sakura unnie would be into this, I guess she's less of a prude than I thought" At this point Y/N just wanted to leave, he slightly hid behind his noona as she started placing her own products she wanted to buy. 
"I’ll pay for it Y/N I get a discount here, just pay me back after" Y/N nodded before Eunbi tapped her card and they both left with Yena waving to them, saying that they should visit her again.
With his purchases in hand, Y/N left the shop feeling embarrassed about the whole situation but he thought about the end goal and it made him feel more confident than ever. This was his chance to break through the monotony that had settled between them.
Later that evening, back in their shared apartment, Sakura was already in the midst of her nightly streaming routine. Her set up was in the living room, per Y/N's request after waking him up way too many times. It was bathed in the soft glow of the monitor, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across her face as she engaged with her audience. Y/N, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement, watched from the shadows, clutching the items he had bought earlier.
He knew exactly what to do.
Grabbing a piece of paper, Y/N quickly scribbled a note and held it up just out of view of the camera, flashing it at Sakura with a grin. The note read: "Since you're so into games, let's play one right now, this will be level one, don't make anything obvious, good luck."
Sakura blinked in confusion at first, her head tilting as she tried to make sense of the message. But when she looked up at Y/N’s playful expression a delicate smile spread across his lips, a knowing look in his eyes. Sakura then glanced down at her stream, her posture adjusting as if nothing had changed, she quickly muted her mic. “ Not now Y/N, I'm busy.” before turning it back on and saying her mic was glitching. But Y/N had spent too long planning this out, spent too much money to turn back now. 
Satisfied with the confusion, Y/N smiled back. The game was on.
Without another word, Y/N crouched and began crawling under the desk. Since her desk was longer than any normal person would normally have, It made the access to the prize easy for him as he just needed to go from the side, his movements smooth and deliberate, hidden from the camera’s view. Sakura’s attention was still on the screen, her voice cheerful as she interacted with her viewers, but Y/N knew it wouldn’t be long before his girlfriend’s focus would shift entirely. Beneath the desk, Y/N felt a rush of excitement as he prepared to introduce a new level of spontaneity into Sakura’s night.
The note had been the first step—a secret shared between them, a playful challenge that only the two of them would understand. What happened next was up to Y/N, and he was ready to make it unforgettable.
Y/N smirked as he slowly slid the small bullet vibrator out of its box, he wiped it with a wet wipe before lifting up the pink short skirt in front of him, He brought the toy up and pressed it against Sakura's panty-covered mound, watching with delight as the Japanese girl jolted slightly in her seat. Sakura tried her best to maintain focus on the video game, determinedly gripping her mouse and keyboard as she attempted to hide her reactions to the subtle vibrations. But Y/N could see right through her act - the way Sakura's thighs clenched together, the slight flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing quickened.
To save face Sakura quickly slapped Y/N’s hand away from her wet pussy but Y/n quickly placed it back to its home.
The little vibrator buzzed away, its vibrations transmitted through the thin fabric barrier. Y/N could feel the heat radiating off of Sakura's core, could sense her wetness growing with each passing second. Sakura squirmed almost imperceptibly, fighting the urge to spread her legs further.
Sakura's game character died with a pitiful electronic squeal, breaking the spell. She blinked hard a few times, trying to regain her composure as she struggled to stay focused on the screen. Y/N chuckled quietly, pulling the vibrator away.
Rising up from his spot on the floor under the desk, Y/N made sure that he was holding eye contact with Sakura the whole way. Sakura's eyes widened as Y/N made a show of slowly swiping his fingers on the toy before rubbing them together and slowly pulling them apart a slick line of the idols juices were connecting Y/Ns fingers showing her that even though she's against it, her body doesn't lie. Y/N’s fingers were brought to his lips, eye contact still not breaking and in an exaggerated motion he licked her fingers clean. Sakura quickly glanced away, her face burning crimson now, but she couldn't keep her eyes from peeking back at Y/N. A shaky exhale escaped her lips.
Y/N just winked before reaching for a piece of paper that read Level 2 commencing before crawling back to her side of the desk, leaving Sakura even more flustered and distracted, though trying her best to play it cool. Y/N made a mental note - Sakura was even more responsive than expected. This was going to be fun indeed...
The next level involved the G-spot vibrating dildo, escalating the intensity. There was only one small thing blocking his way, deciding to deal with it he wrapped his fingers around her panties before giving it a quick and powerful tug completely ripping them. The sound loud enough to catch Sakura off guard. Shocked, the idol’s hand instinctively reached down, her fingertips brushing her now bare, wet pussy. She inhaled sharply, her body reacting to the sudden exposure, but she didn’t dare glance away from the screen.
Y/N teased her relentlessly, his fingers circling her entrance before finally pushing the toy into her slick cunt. He moved it slowly at first, letting her adjust to the sensation, feeling her muscles tighten around the intrusion. Sakura’s hand gripped her mouse tighter, her knuckles whitening as she fought to keep her composure. She nearly missed a key on her keyboard, her body betraying her as Y/N expertly played with her, pulling the toy out just as she neared the edge of release.
Her breath came in shallow, uneven pants. The subtle strain in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N, who watched with a smirk, knowing just how close she was to losing control. Yet, he denied her the satisfaction of climax, bringing her to the edge again and again only to retreat, leaving her desperate and aching.
“Fuck,” Sakura muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible as she tried to focus on her stream. Her viewers, blissfully unaware of the torment unfolding beneath her desk, cheered her on in the game, oblivious to the real game being played just out of sight.
Y/N pulled the toy away once more, but this time, Sakura couldn't hold back her frustration. "Ahh, what the fuck" she whispered harshly, trying to control her reaction. She couldn’t look down to see what he was doing, not without giving herself away on camera. She tried to push through the absence, hoping Y/N would relent, but the moment stretched on.
And then, without warning, Y/N switched the vibrations onto its highest setting and plunged it back into her, the thick dildo buried deep inside her clenching cunt, the toy felt around and lived up to its name, pressing on that spot she loved.
"AHHHH!" Sakura’s cry pierced the quiet of the room, her pussy convulsing around the toy as an intense orgasm overtook her. She barely had time to mute her mic, her thighs trembling and squeezing together, her stomach contracting as wave after wave of electric pleasure crashed over her. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alight with sensation
Her game character spun wildly on screen, her mouse jerking out of control as her body seized up. Her viewers, concerned but unsuspecting, quickly flooded the chat with messages.
"Are you okay? What happened?" one asked.
"You just screamed like you saw a ghost, lol," commented another, oblivious to the real reason behind her outburst.
Sakura’s cheeks burned with humiliation. They had heard her, but thankfully they couldn’t know the truth—how their sweet, innocent idol was secretly being driven to the brink of madness by her boyfriend under the desk. With a shaky breath, she forced a laugh. "Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought I saw a bug under the desk," she lied, her voice higher than usual, the embarrassment clear. "You know how I get when it comes to bugs!"
Her viewers, still clueless, accepted the explanation, laughing along with her as they playfully scolded her for getting so worked up over something so trivial. But Sakura’s mind was far from the stream now. The aftershocks of her orgasm still rippled through her, and she bit her lip hard, willing her body to calm down. The irony wasn’t lost on her—here she was, playing the role of their wholesome crush while secretly being ravaged by Y/N just out of sight.
Satisfied for the moment, Y/N leaned in and gave her sensitive pussy a slow, teasing lick, sending another shiver through her body. Her thighs trembled, clenching around his head as his tongue worked its magic. She didn’t want to admit how much she missed this—missed him—but the pleasure coursing through her veins made it impossible to deny. He left a final lingering kiss against her soaked lips before pulling away, leaving her panting and desperate for more.
As Y/N stood, he reached for the final toy in his collection, pulling the rabbit-ear vibrator from his bag. His fingers traced the packaging—Rabbit Ear Toy: Maximum Clitoral Stimulation—and a grin spread across his face. The playful sparkle in his eyes revealed his mischievous intent, recalling how Eunbi had enthusiastically recommended this particular device. With a small chuckle, he knew this would be the perfect grand finale to their secret, unspoken game.
Y/N scribbled a quick note—Level three, good luck—and slid it over to Sakura. Her gaze flicked to him, and their eyes met briefly. A silent exchange of both anticipation and trepidation passed between them. The tension hung thick in the air, a blend of excitement and nerves that only heightened the moment. Sakura’s cheeks flushed as her fingers hovered over the keyboard, pretending to remain focused on the game, but her attention was split, knowing what was coming next.
As Y/N shifted back into his familiar spot under the desk, his breath hitched in anticipation. It had become his little domain, a place where he could send Sakura into oblivion without her viewers being any the wiser. He carefully unwrapped the vibrator—an egg-shaped toy, compact but powerful. The soft, flexible rabbit ears promised an intensity that could tip her over the edge with just the right pressure. His hands, steady and deliberate, moved between her legs, teasing her for a moment. The toy slipped between her folds, refusing to cooperate at first, but Y/N’s persistence paid off. He finally nestled it perfectly in place, the rabbit ears snugly embracing her clit.
For a second, he paused. The anticipation in the room grew thick as Sakura shifted in her chair, her breaths shallow. The tension between them felt electric. Y/N knew what this small delay would do to her—he was prolonging the inevitable, letting her body crave the release that was just out of reach. Then, with a press of the button, the vibrator buzzed to life.
The effect was immediate. A surge of pleasure ripped through Sakura’s body, her muscles tensing as the toy began its relentless rhythm. She bit down hard on her lower lip, trying desperately not to give herself away. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of heat cascading from her core, and her hands trembled as they hovered over her mouse and keyboard, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Her breath came in short, shallow bursts, her body writhing ever so slightly, desperate to remain still for the camera.
Her chat lit up with messages of encouragement. Her viewers had no clue the real battle she was fighting—the one between maintaining her composure and succumbing to the pleasure that was quickly unraveling her. The boss fight on screen grew more intense, each phase of the battle requiring her utmost focus, but her concentration wavered with every flick of the vibrator against her clit. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone execute precise game mechanics, as the rabbit ears worked her over with merciless efficiency.
Sakura whispered to herself, “Y-You’ve got this, Sakura!” Her voice was strained, too high-pitched to mask her struggle, but she plastered on a wide smile for her audience. Her hands shook violently now as they moved across the keyboard, trying to keep up with the rapid pace of the game. Her pulse raced in sync with the toy, the pleasure mounting to unbearable levels.
The boss’s health bar ticked down in sync with her endurance, her every keystroke becoming sloppier, more frantic. As the final blow landed and the boss collapsed in defeat, Sakura could no longer hold back. Her body convulsed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave. A guttural shout escaped her lips as she slammed her hands down on the desk, her voice cracking with a blend of triumph and carnal release.
“YESSSS!!” she screamed, her eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving with the force of the orgasm that ripped through her. Her muscles clenched, and her toes curled as the vibrator continued its assault, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure until she was utterly spent.
Her viewers erupted into cheers, congratulating her on the hard-earned victory. Oblivious to the real reason behind her breathlessness and the flush on her face, they celebrated her skill and persistence. The screen flashed with messages of admiration, and Sakura forced herself to sit up, her body trembling with the aftershocks.
“Whew… that was intense!” she gasped, wiping away the sheen of sweat on her forehead. Her hand reached for her water glass, her fingers still trembling slightly as she took a long, much-needed drink. “Thanks for cheering me on, guys,” she added with a weak laugh, masking the exhaustion coursing through her.
As Sakura leaned back in her chair, Scrolling through other games to hopefully find a good one to end the night, Y/N, who had been patiently watching her recovery, wasn’t quite done yet. A devilish grin played on his lips as he leaned forward, his finger hovering over the vibrator’s controls. Without warning, he cranked the toy up to its highest setting.
The sudden jolt of the vibrator sent Sakura reeling. Her body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as the intensity of the stimulation threatened to unravel her all over again. Her breath hitched in her throat as her muscles tensed, gripping the arms of her chair to ground herself. Y/N’s laughter echoed softly from beneath the desk, watching her fight the new wave of pleasure with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.
Sakura, the ever-composed streamer, found herself on the precipice of a new kind of experience. The powerful vibrations of the new toy sent shivers through her body, a primal force that ignited a wildfire of anticipation within her. Her body responded with a raw, undeniable intensity, the moisture building until it seeped through her folds, dripping off the chair and leaving a glistening trail on the floor. The sweet scent of candles that once permeated the room was quickly overtaken by the pungent aroma of her arousal, a testament to the burgeoning passion that consumed her.
As the pleasure reached its crescendo, a surge of instinct took over. With lightning-fast reflexes, Sakura muted her microphone and switched off her camera, craving the sanctuary of privacy for the intimate storm that was about to break. The online world faded away, and she surrendered completely to the throes of ecstasy.
The timing was impeccable. As Sakura neared her peak, Y/N, her boyfriend, seized the moment. He seamlessly combined the pleasure of the vibrator with the intimacy of his mouth, diving forward with a ravenous hunger. His tongue explored the depths of her, savoring her taste and fueling the fire that burned within her. Each flick and swirl of his tongue sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her body, pushing her closer and closer to the edge of oblivion.
The combined sensations were too much for her to bear, and with an animalistic moan escaped Sakura's lips, a guttural sound intertwined with a scream that seemed to rise from the very core of her being. "UGH FUCK YEEESSSS Y/N!" Her voice was a raw expression of unrestrained pleasure. She grasped his hair, her body convulsing in a wave of ecstasy. Her legs lifted and wrapped around him pulling his face impossibly close to her core, her muscles contracting and relaxing with each tremor, the old gaming chair squeaking in protest with every movement. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant hue, a visible marker of her heightened state as she rode the wave of her orgasm with unbridled abandon, her breasts heaving with each ragged breath. Sakura climaxed with a force that left her breathless and trembling. Y/N continued his ministrations, prolonging her orgasm until she felt every ounce of pleasure.
For Y/N, the experience was both exhilarating and intensely intimate. He couldn't see anything; his vision was blocked by Sakura's body. Each subtle movement sent shivers down his spine—her soft skin felt warm and alive against him, her thighs encasing his head in a passionate vice that was as constricting as it was pleasurable. it was just the two of them, enveloped in a cocoon of heat and desire.
This was a Sakura he rarely saw, one that lay hidden behind the carefully curated persona of her online streams. In those moments, she had shed the facade of the cheerful, bubbly entertainer and revealed a side of herself that was raw and unfiltered. It was the Sakura from before her streaming career, the girl who had always been playful and spontaneous, exuding an authentic vulnerability that left him breathless. Her laughter echoed in the confines of his mind as he realized how seldom he’d had the chance to witness this intimate version of her.
The chaos of streaming and the demands of her audience faded into the background, replaced by a potent chemistry that crackled between them. His own heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum echoing the urgency of the moment, while his breath hitched at the raw display of passion and surrender before him. Every heartbeat was a reminder of how deeply and irrevocably he craved this connection.
This moment carved a permanent mark on him, etching itself into his memory like a secret tattoo. It was a reminder of the beautiful, complex dynamics that fueled their relationship—beyond the streaming lights and scripted interactions lay a blend of affection, longing, and a hint of danger. Their souls intertwined in this rare instance, revealing as much about their hearts as it did about their desires. The very essence of their bond lay anchored in these fleeting but fervent exchanges, making each encounter a treasure and a risk he was willing to embrace.
Sakura's breath came in ragged gasps as she slowly released her hold on Y/N, her legs trembling, weak from the intense stimulation. The room seemed to amplify all her senses, the cooling sensation of sweat mingling with her skin a stark contrast to the recent heat. Her legs, barely able to support her, struggled to find their footing as she fought to regain her composure. The assistant to her pleasure, the formidable toy that had helped push her to the edge of chaotic bliss, lay on the floor, a glistening reminder of the storm that had just passed. Its surface, coated in her essence, served as a tangible testament to her unleashed passion.
Realizing that her momentary loss of control had severed her connection with her viewers, Sakura quickly attempted to regain her composure. Her cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. But before she could complete the act of resuming, Y/N’s steady hand came to rest against her thigh, gently halting her fidgeting. Kneeling between her legs, his tall frame allowing him to almost come face to face with her, their eyes meeting in a moment that felt both electric and profoundly intimate.
Sakura's mind swirled with a haze of emotions, a flicker of melancholy washing over her like a soft tide. She missed these moments—the brief interludes where they could shed their roles and embrace a deeper connection, where laughter and genuine emotion melded seamlessly into something more. Each stolen glance, every shared laugh had been a thread weaving them closer, and yet, amidst the chaos of their lives, she felt those threads fraying, slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.
In that heavy silence, Y/N reached for her, his fingers warm as they gently cupped the back of her head. There was no need for words; his eyes spoke volumes, conveying understanding and longing in a single gaze. Then, with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine, he leaned in and sealed their lips together in a passionate kiss. The flavors of her arousal mingled with saliva—a delicious, intoxicating symphony that danced on their tongues, each movement igniting a fire deep within her core.
Sakura was momentarily consumed by the warmth of his embrace, every worry dissolving into the sweet elixir of their connection. But as the kiss lingered, her heart raced at the thought of what lay beyond this moment. Still lost in the afterglow, Sakura whimpered softly when Y/N finally pulled away, his lips brushing against hers gently as they parted. His gaze held her captive, a silent promise lingering in the space between them, but it only deepened her desire, leaving her craving more.
This was the testament to their bond—a connection that blossomed amidst the chaos of her storm, a lingering whisper of hope amid uncertainty. She knew she couldn’t let this slip through her fingers again, not when they had ventured into a territory that felt so beautifully raw and undeniably real.
But as the seasoned entertainer she was, she corrected her streaming gadget, turning her webcam back on and adjusting her microphone. Her face, still flushed from her recent exertion and her lips swollen, was now contorted into an apologetic smile as she addressed her audience, hiding the true reason behind her sudden departure by blaming it on unpredictable internet issues.
"Sorry about that, guys," she panted, her voice slightly uneven with the remnants of her peak. "We had a little technical glitch," she continued, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous hint that was not quite caught by her virtual audience.
The chat, a flurry of messages, was filled with questions and mild irritation. Her viewers were curious, their previous excitement now shifted to suspicion and a growing sense of doubt . They wondered what had caused such a sudden disruption. Yet, despite their curiosity, they respected her privacy, unwilling to push for explanations that she was not willing to give until she was ready. In their minds, the truth of her interruptions could often be their most decadent fantasies, creating an air of mystique and allure around her that kept them coming back for more. Sakura, a master of her craft, knew how to keep her audience hooked, turning even a glitch into a potential performance enhancement, as her viewers' imaginations filled in the blanks left by their sudden disconnection.
Y/N, with an air of mystery swirling about him, gracefully emerged from under the desk, his presence suddenly filling the room with an electric energy. As if appearing from the shadows, he moved with a fluidity that captivated Sakura, drawing her gaze irresistibly. From his vantage point behind the monitor, Y/N's eyes met Sakura's, a hint of mischief dancing in their depths.
His movements were deliberate, with a rhythm that matched the beating of Sakura's heart, as if he were conducting an intimate dance where only the two of them could hear the music. The fact that he planned this whole thing gave Sakura a warm feeling. The remnants of their shared passion became a declaration of love, a promise of intimacy, and a reaffirmation of their bond.
Satisfied with his thorough work, Y/N offered Sakura a look, his eyes darting back and forth from Sakura and a bag that was placed just to the side. A secretive smile playing upon his lips. It was a silent challenge, an invitation for Sakura to join him in their next adventure. Turning away, he walked calmly towards the bedroom.
As he cleaned the toys and meticulously arranged them in their new resting place, the nightstand, Y/N took the time to appreciate the small details of their shared space. The nightstand, once merely a piece of furniture with no purpose, now held a whole new meaning, a symbol of their intimate connection.
Sakura remained seated, her breath catching in her throat as Y/N disappeared into the shadows of the bedroom. The atmosphere lingered with a charged energy, the room still humming from the intensity of their shared moment. Sakura’s mind raced, replaying the image of Y/N’s mischievous smile, his teasing, deliberate movements, and the unspoken promise that hung in the air like a secret waiting to be unraveled.
For a moment, Sakura sat frozen, the temptation pulling her forward. She felt a surge of warmth radiate through her, a tug towards the bedroom where Y/N awaited, his presence as enticing as ever. The weight of their connection, unspoken but deeply understood, anchored her as she ended the stream and rose from her seat.
Sakura’s eyes fell to the bag on the floor, under the coffee table, its presence both familiar and intriguing. She had seen Y/n walk in with it  earlier but hadn’t given it much thought in the midst of her stream. Now, as the evening light dimmed into twilight and the apartment grew quieter, curiosity took over. Slowly, she bent down, her fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the bag as she picked it up. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a ripple of anticipation through her. 
Peeling back the wrapping, her breath caught when her eyes landed on the contents. A stunning set of lingerie lay folded neatly inside, the color immediately striking her—her favorite color. The rich, silky fabric shimmered slightly in the low light, delicate lace tracing intricate patterns along its edges. She lifted it out of the bag, feeling the cool smoothness of the material slip between her fingers. The fabric felt luxurious, softer than she imagined, and as she held it up, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Y/N had remembered.
In the whirlwind of their lives, it wasn’t often that someone paid attention to the small details, but Y/N always had a way of doing just that. Not just any lingerie, but a set that spoke to her tastes, a color that made her feel powerful, beautiful, sexy. The care and thoughtfulness behind it warmed her from the inside, the kind of warmth that settled deep, in the quiet places of the heart.
Sakura didn't waste time, a surge of excitement bubbling up inside her. Without even heading to the bathroom, she began to undress right there in the middle of the living room. Her body was sore, every muscle aching from the games “levels”, but the thrill of the moment outweighed the discomfort. She moved slowly, peeling away the layers of her clothing, and as each piece fell to the floor, she felt lighter. Her breath hitched when the cool air of the room brushed against her bare skin.
Pulling the lingerie up over her legs, she marveled at how perfectly it fit, as if it had been crafted just for her. The lace clung to her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that made her feel both strong and undeniably feminine. She caught a glimpse of herself in the nearby mirror and paused for a moment. The reflection staring back at her was striking—she looked lovely and powerful. The fatigue that had settled into her bones seemed to dissipate, replaced by an invigorating energy, one that thrummed beneath her skin like a quiet storm ready to break.
Her gaze shifted from the mirror to the slightly ajar bedroom door, and that’s when she felt it. The pull. It was almost magnetic, an invisible force drawing her toward Y/N. There had always been something between them ever since they met, something more than words or physical attraction. It was an unspoken connection, a shared intimacy that went beyond the surface of things. Y/N had a way of turning even the smallest gestures into something profound. A simple gift of lingerie wasn’t just a gift; it was a conversation, an invitation, a reminder of the bond they shared.
Sakura’s heart raced as she stood at the threshold of the bedroom, her hand resting lightly on the doorframe. From where she stood, she could see Y/N’s silhouette bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp. The room itself was dim, quiet, filled with the gentle hum of the night outside. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, focused. There was a look in his gaze—one that she knew well. Mischief, affection, desire, all wrapped into one.
Her breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t the cold air or the tightness of the lingerie. It was the way Y/N looked at her. As if she were the only thing in the world that mattered in that moment. As if the night was theirs and theirs alone.
Without breaking eye contact, Sakura stepped inside the room, her bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. The door clicked shut behind her, the soft sound echoing in the quiet. It was as if the outside world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of them in the cocoon of their own making. The air between them was thick with anticipation, with the unspoken promise of what was to come.
Y/N didn’t move, didn’t say a word. His gaze traveled over her slowly, taking in the sight of her standing before him in the delicate lace and silk he had chosen. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small, appreciative smile, but there was something deeper in his eyes—a smoldering intensity that made her heart skip a beat.
She moved closer, the space between them shrinking with every step. Her own breathing had become shallow, her pulse quickening in response to the heat building between them. It wasn’t just about the physical desire; it was the emotional weight of everything they had shared, everything they had been through together, all condensed into this one, intimate moment.
Sakura reached the edge of the bed, standing just before him, her body illuminated by the soft, golden light. Y/N reached out, his hand gently grazing her thigh, his fingers brushing over the delicate lace. His touch was light, teasing, sending a shiver up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation, the feeling of his skin against hers.
He had given her so much today, endless pleasures each one more intense than the last. But now, as she stood before him, she knew the time had come, it was his turn. She smiled, slow and teasing, as her fingers toyed with the straps of the lingerie. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear, her voice a soft whisper filled with promise.
"You’ve given me so many gifts today baby. Now it’s your turn to unwrap your present." 
She gave him multiple kisses from his neck to his cheek, ending with a needy one on his lips.
“Since you're so into games, let's play one right now,” her words mimicking those that started this whole thing.
The night had just begun, filled with endless possibilities Sakura's situation mirrored her favorite games. She had failed multiple times but knew that this was a fresh start, an extra life, With a smile she positioned herself face to face with his crotch and pulled down Y/N's pants exposing his member, she gave the tip a quick kiss and lick, before reminding him that singing was not the only thing her mouth was used for.
Miyawaki Sakura was back on level one.
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pickingupmymercedes · 2 months ago
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Damn him - Lewis Hamilton NSFW
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Braids down, finger in and that smirk.
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities
Also, wrap it before you tap it.
wordcount: +2K
a/n: I might have found my passion for teasing 🤭. Also, the smirk besties, that smirk @lh44girl 🫦
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
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The room was still shrouded in darkness, only the faintest sliver of dawn creeping through the heavy curtains. Lewis was dead to the world, his arm lazily draped over her waist.
She’s got to hand it to him—when he’s out, he’s out, completely unaware that she’s about to disappear from his bed like a ghost.
Gently, she lifts his arm, careful not to disturb him. The bed creaked slightly as she slipped out, the cool air immediately prickling her skin. Her dress from last night lies abandoned on the floor, and she silently cursed the choice of attire.
A body-hugging, zipper-up-the-back number isn’t exactly designed for a swift exit. Still, she’s been through these routine enough times to make it work.
She pulled on the dress, her fingers fumbling with the zipper, and catched her reflection in the mirror. Her hair a mess, wild and tangled from sleep and... well, whatever that was that happened the night before.
There’s a faint smudge of makeup under her eyes, and she can’t help but notice the telltale mark on her neck. Great. She’s got a press conference today, and now she’ll have to figure out how to cover that up.
Professionalism, right?
She glanced back at the bed. Lewis is sprawled out, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. He looks so damn peaceful, so utterly unaware of the world.
And for a moment, just a brief flicker, she considered waking him. But what’s the point? This is how it always goes—no strings, no complications.
Besides, there’s a certain satisfaction in slipping out unnoticed, leaving him to his dreams.
She moved to the door, her hand hovering over the knob. There’s a moment’s hesitation, a tiny voice in the back of her mind that wonders if this will ever change—if they’ll ever stop playing these games.
But she brushed it aside. They both know the score. She’s not looking for anything more, and neither is he.
As she stepped into the hallway, she doesn’t look back. She’s done this dance before, and she’ll do it again. The only thing she takes with her is a hair tie around her wrist—probably his. It’s a small, insignificant thing, but she likes having it, a reminder of the night.
She straightened her dress, squared her shoulders, and walked down the corridor to enter the car waiting.
There’s no shame there, no regret. Just the usual morning after, with the usual complications.
But then, complications are part of the job, aren’t they?
By the time Y/n arrived on the paddock it was its usual buzzing ground, the organized chaos of a media day in full swing.
She’s got her game face on, professional and poised, the lingering traces of last night buried beneath a shower and layers of carefully applied concealer.
She was just finished setting up in the media pen, her notes organized, camera crew in place, when her phone vibrated against the table. She glanced down, expecting some last-minute update or an overzealous PR rep trying to change an interview slot. Instead, it’s a message from Lewis.
You have something that’s mine.
Her brow furrowed as she read it, confusion and intrigue bubbling up. What the hell is he talking about?
She quickly scanned her surroundings, half-expecting to see him lurking somewhere nearby with that damn smirk of his. But the paddock is crowded, drivers and team members moving in every direction, and there’s no sign of him.
She brushed it off. There’s work to be done, and whatever game he’s playing can wait.
But it’s easier said than done. The message lingered in the back of her mind, gnawing at her curiosity. What did she take? He can’t be serious.
She barely had time to dwell on everything that had happened since the night before before she has to move again, weaving through the throng of people.
As she rounds a corner, she nearly collides with him. Lewis, in all his casually confident glory, is striding toward her, his eyes locking onto hers with a look that gets her breath stuck in her throat.
He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t stop, but as he passes, he gives her that look. The one that says he’s up to no good, that he’s got something planned.
The smirk on his lips is unmistakable. It’s a promise, a challenge, and she can’t help but roll her eyes at his audacity.
Of course, he’d pull something like this on a day she’s already juggling a million things. She keeps walking, head held high, refusing to let him see how much he’s already under her skin.
Only later, as she’s waiting for an interview to start, she spots him again. This time, he’s not in a rush. He’s lingering, talking to someone from his team, but his attention is split.
She can feel his gaze on her before she even looks up. When she does, he’s already watching her, a little too intently for her liking.
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, then stops, closing it with a thoughtful pout. His hand slips into his pocket, but only his index goes in, tapping the rest rhythmically against his les.
Her breath hitches again. She knows exactly what that finger is capable of, and the memory from last night floods back in with a vengeance.
The slow, deliberate way he’d teased her, drawn out her pleasure until she was a trembling mess beneath him.
She forces herself to look away, to focus on anything else. But the damage is done. He’s got her flustered, her mind racing in directions it shouldn’t be going in the middle of a workday.
She doesn’t miss the satisfied glint in his eye as she turns her attention back to her notes, pretending she’s unaffected. But he knows better. He always does.
Damn him.
Then she’s back at the hotel, settling into her room, the familiar comfort of routine taking over as she edits the final images for the broadcaster. The day has been a whirlwind, and she’s finally finding her rhythm.
She’s halfway through cropping a shot when the phone rings, startling her. The room phone.
She blinks, confused. Who even uses the room phone these days?
“Hello?”
“Your car is downstairs, ma’am,” the receptionist informs her, tone as polished as ever.
“My car?” She’s even more puzzled now. She didn’t call for a car. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s waiting for you.”
Almost simultaneously, her phone pings with a message. She glances down, and her confusion deepens when she sees the name on the screen: Lewis. She opens the message.
Just get in.
Of course. Who else could it be? A sigh escapes her as she gathers her things, tossing her phone into her bag.
Why was she even entertaining him was something her logical side was having serious trouble grasping.
The blacked-out Mercedes waiting outside is a dead giveaway. She slides into the backseat, and there he is—Lewis, sprawled out with that easy confidence he wears like a second skin.
The door barely clicks shut before his hands are on her, pulling her close as the car begins to move. A closed little window the only thing separating them from whoever was on the front seats.
“Lewis, not here” she hisses, feeling his fingers deftly working their way to the button of her jeans.
He chuckles, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “Don’t worry, love. The big guy driving us won’t say a thing.”
His fingers are relentless, sliding under the fabric, seeking out her heat. Her breath catches as he finds her clit, rubbing it through the thin barrier of her underwear.
The car is moving, taking them somewhere in the Milan area, but she’s too caught up in the sensation to care where they’re headed.
“You love the tease, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.
She bites her lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatens to escape. She can’t let him win that easily, not when he’s already got her halfway undone with just a few well-placed touches.
But when he finally slides a finger inside her, she’s lost, her body arching into him despite herself.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, dragging her toward the edge with a practiced ease that only makes her want him more. The pleasure coils tighter and tighter until she’s gasping, muffling her sounds against his shoulder as she comes, her body trembling from the intensity.
But it’s not enough. Not even close. She’s still aching, still needy, and she knows he’s fully aware of it.
“Lewis,” she breathes, her voice a low plea. “I need more than this.”
His laugh is soft, almost indulgent, as if he expected nothing less. “Patience, babe.”
The car begins to slow, and she glances out the window. She can only assume it’s their next stop in whatever he’s got planned.
He withdraws his hand, leaving her feeling achingly empty. But the promise of more, of what’s to come, is enough to keep her on edge, her pulse quickening as he opens the door and steps out, offering her his hand.
“Come on,” he says, that damn smirk back in place. “We’re not done yet.”
As Y/n steps out of the car, the cool evening air wraps around her, a welcome help to the heat still simmering within her.
She takes Lewis’s hand, not because she needs it, but because it’s part of the unspoken dance they’ve been doing for over a year now.
He leads her up a discreet side entrance, the back of another hotel, and it doesn’t take long for her to recognize it.
The same damn place she’d snuck out of this morning, trying to preserve a shred of her dignity. And here she is, to end the day right back where she started it.
The universe’s funny like that.
They move quickly and quietly through the hallways, Lewis’s hand gripping hers with an easy familiarity. The top floor, naturally—because Lewis doesn’t do anything by halves.
When they finally enter his room, he pauses, turning to face her. There’s something different in his eyes, a seriousness that wasn’t there before. But before she can analyze it, he’s speaking.
“I believe you’ve got two things that are mine,” he says, voice low and smooth.
She arches a brow, trying to play it cool even though her heart is thudding in her chest. “Oh…two?”
He steps closer, and she can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “My hair tie you took with you this morning” he says, nodding toward her wrist where the band sits snugly.
She glances down at it, remembering how he’d used it to pull her hair back last night when his hands were too busy holding her in place.
A small smirk tugs at her lips as she looks back at him.
“And you, babe” he continues, his voice dropping an octave. “You’re mine.”
She huffs a laugh in his face, half-amused, half-challenged. She turns from him and sits on the sofa, crossing her legs as she slowly let’s her head fall to the side and her lips pout “Yours? I don’t remember ever saying yes to anything.”
Lewis smiles, but there’s something in his eyes that’s deadly serious. He closes the distance between them, his hand lifting to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Will you, then? Let whatever this is stay in the past and be my partner?”
Damn him.
She was just here for the sex, the fun, the thrill of sneaking around with one of the most recognizable men on the planet. But he’s gone and done it—turned the tables on her when she least expected it.
And of course, she wants to scream to the top of the roof she does. But she’s not going to make it that easy for him.
A slow smile spreads across her face, and she uses his arms to help herself up, bringing her face level with his. Her other hand finds its way to his jawline, her thumb brushing lightly against the beard there.
She leans in, her lips barely grazing his ear as she whispers, “You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that, Romeo.”
And then she pulls back just enough to see the flicker of surprise in his eyes before she leaves a kiss at the corner of his lips.
With a teasing glance, she turns and strides towards the bed by the windows, peeling off her shirt as she goes.
She doesn’t look back until she reaches for the hooks on her bra. Then, with a wicked grin, she glances over her shoulder at him. “Aren’t you gonna help me with that?”
There’s a heartbeat of hesitation, and then she hears him move, the soft sound of his footsteps on the carpet as he closes the distance between them.
Because this is what they do—challenge, tease, and drive each other crazy.
Only this time, the prize is that much bigger.
She can feel it in the way his hands are just a little gentler, his touch lingering a little longer as he reaches for her.
And as much as she wants to hold onto her bravado, there’s a part of her that’s ready to see where this path might lead them.
But first, there’s the matter of making him earn it.
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driaswrld · 1 year ago
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🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT
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LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *
🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.
🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.
🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog
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CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *
L'INCOMPARABLE.
Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.
Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.
Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.
Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.
“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.
“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.
“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.
Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.
“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.
Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.
At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.
It was a disastrous first few encounters—
(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )
His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.
Not around you, at least.
“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.
That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.
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THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.
Dearest gentle reader,
As all royal scandals do,
It started with an invitation.
We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].
This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.
What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!
Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.
But I assure you,
When it comes to matters of the heart —
Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.
You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.
And yet.
“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.
Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince
Is not the strongest.
“Some nerve you have, boy.”
Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.
You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.
And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.
“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”
Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.
You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.
No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.
“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”
You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.
“She will never be Queen.”
It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.
It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.
“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”
“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”
“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”
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Three months, thirteen days.
Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.
Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.
Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.
Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.
Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.
“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”
The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.
Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.
You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.
why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me
“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”
The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.
That, and the prize.
The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.
Gentle reader,
The famed jewel for the taking
This summer, is none other than—
“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.
It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .
Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.
“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”
( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )
“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”
She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.
There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.
A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.
—The champion’s jewel,
A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.
The L’Incomparable.
“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.
Three months, thirteen days.
You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.
He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.
It’s eerily similar to your childhood.
“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.
L’Incomparable.
The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.
Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.
A gift he only got to place on her corpse.
Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.
And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.
“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.
“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”
L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.
It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.
A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.
And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.
“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.
“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”
( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )
He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.
“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.
And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.
“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”
He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.
He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.
This urge—
( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )
The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—
( it will pass. )
“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”
Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.
Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.
He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.
“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”
( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )
There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.
And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.
As if you had never been there.
The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.
L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.
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Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.
You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.
Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.
It made you giggle.
The palace corridors are bustling with life.
Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.
Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.
“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”
“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.
Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.
Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.
“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”
You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.
His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.
“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”
You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—
“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”
You choke. Audibly.
Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”
“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.
Oh, fair reader, it seems
Our dear protagonist has come upon
A treasure trove of memories.
“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”
Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.
“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”
“Oh, about Prince Geto!”
Dearest reader,
Suguru Geto enters.
A man of great mystique,
the northern Prince.
And striking opposite of
our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.
“Yes! About him—”
Suguru Geto.
In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.
Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.
“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”
( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )
“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?
The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.
“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.
Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.
But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.
And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.
( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )
Faithful reader,
she could not have been
more wrong.
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Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.
Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.
You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.
Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.
This time, you’re taken aback.
Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—
There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.
Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.
But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.
It's almost intimate.
When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.
You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.
( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )
˚ ༘ *
The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.
When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?
Wait, why do you even care?
You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.
Darling reader,
it was in fact,
not the tea.
Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.
Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.
One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.
And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!
Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?
( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )
Devoted reader,
our protagonist
is in denial.
“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.
( oh god, no. )
Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.
“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.
“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”
The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.
You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.
He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.
You don't doubt that.
“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”
“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.
You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.
( oh, the gloves ! )
“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.
Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.
The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.
“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.
( what a coincidence. )
˚ ༘ *
Time passes in waves.
People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.
‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’
‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’
‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’
‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’
“Bitter.”
Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.
Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.
The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.
“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”
You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.
( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )
“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”
When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”
He looks. . . disheveled.
Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—
And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .
( so that's what he was doing. )
“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.
The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?
“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.
“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”
If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.
“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.
“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.
Marriage.
Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”
Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.
“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”
When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.
“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.
Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.
“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.
Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.
But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.
My dearest reader,
brace yourself for the
next publication.
Your kind author
bids you farewell.
2K notes · View notes
bolandoando · 2 years ago
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this book is no good, this is a no good book
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thewulf · 3 months ago
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Wingman's Gambit || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - idk if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are would you mind doing a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x FemaleBradshawPilot!Reader? where she’s Roosters younger twin sister and he’s really protective over her. anything else included is up to you! i really enjoy your writing!!
A/N: So sorry about the inconsistent posting. Summer is just doing the summer thing! I made Roosters sister a WSO for the stories sake :) Enjoy!
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Word Count: 3.6k+
T/W : Arguing (With roos)
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From your first initial brief encounters with Jake "Hangman" Seresin you gathered enough to understand why his reputation for bravado was almost as well-known as his flying prowess. Despite his cockiness, Hangman always treated you with an unexpected kindness and respect that stood out. Particularly in contrast to his usual smugness. Each interaction, though brief, hinted at a depth beneath the showy exterior which intrigued you more than you had ever anticipated. Especially since you knew how your brother, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw felt about the man… how most pilots felt about him actually.
Now, as you stepped onto the prestigious grounds of Top Gun, it's not just as any recruit. You stepped on as a newly minted WSO. The best of the best elite navigators and tactical hearts behind some of the best pilots in the navy. Here, your brother, has already made a name for himself. He was not just a skilled pilot but a protector, especially where you're concerned. The dynamic at Top Gun shifted perceptibly with your arrival. Rooster, your twin and lifelong guardian, watched over you with a hawk’s vigilance. His protectiveness dialed to its peak amidst the competitive pressures of the academy.
The air crackles with a palpable tension as you walk past the rows of gleaming aircraft with Rooster at your side. Hangman caught sight of you both. The easy grin he typically wears shifts into something more measured though his greeting remains warm and inviting. The rivalry between him and Rooster is well-known and your presence as a WSO—not just Rooster’s sister but a tactical force in your own right—adds a new layer to the already charged atmosphere.
During the initial briefings and training sessions you quickly sensed the underlying tension between Hangman and Rooster. Rooster’s protectiveness was palpable. His demeanor shifting subtly whenever Hangman interacted with you. Despite this though you were determined to carve out your own path, proving your skills in the high-stakes environment of Top Gun and navigating the complex dynamics of friendship, rivalry, and the unspoken rules of engagement.
Your journey at Top Gun was set against the backdrop of supersonic jets and tactical challenges where every decision could tip the delicate balance between personal loyalties and professional duties. With Hangman’s occasional flares of interest and Rooster’s watchful eyes your tenure at the academy was bound to be as thrilling as it was challenging.
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First Strike
The debriefing room is abuzz as you and the other members of your squadron file in after a challenging flight simulation exercise. As a WSO your role in today’s mission had been crucial. You managed the weapons systems with precision and played a key part in the team's success. The large screens at the front of the room flicker to life as you set down next to Phoenix. It began showing replays of key moments from the exercise.
Maverick who was your teacher and was overseeing the debriefing, commands the room with an authoritative ease. He walks everyone through various segments of the mission, pausing on a particular maneuver — your maneuver — that had decisively shifted the tide in your squadron's favor.
As the replay highlights your actions, Hangman, usually reserved with his commendations speaks out, “I think we ought to acknowledge the sharp tactics from our WSOs today, particularly Ducky,” he begins, capturing the room’s attention and staring right at you. “Her decisions out there were nothing short of critical. Maybe she should take the lead in coordinating our next sim, see what else she's got up her sleeve.”
Your call sign, Ducky, came as naturally as any others and the irony of it being avian themed wasn’t lost on you. One afternoon after a particularly challenging flight where you demonstrated remarkable agility and finesse your fellow WSO jokingly commented that you were "ducking and weaving like a little duckling out there." The room erupted in laughter, and the name instantly clicked. Despite the initial intention of a light tease, the call sign Ducky resonated, symbolizing not only your ability to maneuver with exceptional ease but also your connection to a family known for their distinctive and memorable contributions to the aviation world.
The suggestion by Jake though seems to take the room by surprise, including Maverick, who raises an eyebrow. He was clearly intrigued by this unexpected praise from Hangman. His interest is evident with a slight smile tugging at his lips as he considers the potential of Hangman’s proposal.
Rooster, however, reacts differently. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. His expression tightens, a clear sign of annoyance flashing across his features as he shifts uncomfortably. The protective brother who was always wary of Hangman’s intentions towards you is on edge though he chooses to remain silent. His demeanor speaks incredible volumes though.
Maverick picks up on the tension but chooses to redirect the conversation tactfully. “Interesting point, Hangman. We’ll consider all suggestions. Great work today, everyone, especially our WSO team. Let’s keep the momentum going,” he concludes tactfully before moving the debriefing forward but with a thoughtful look that lingers on you a moment longer, pondering the new dynamics unfolding within his team. With you and Hangman particularly.
After the debriefing concludes the room gradually empties as pilots and WSOs disperse, discussing the day's outcomes and upcoming assignments. You’re gathering your notes when you sense a presence beside you. Hangman leans casually against the table with his hands tucked into his flight suit pockets. That usual mischievous glint in his eyes was showing through as he waited on you.
“Hey, Ducky. Good job today,” Hangman starts, his voice low enough for just the two of you amidst the dispersing crowd. “I wasn’t just blowing smoke in there. You really do have a knack for this.”
“Thanks, Hangman. Just trying to make sure you’re not the only hotshot around here,” you quip with a playful smirk, acknowledging his compliment but keeping the tone light and spirited.
Hangman’s grin widens and he nods towards the doorway where Rooster is lingering. He was clearly waiting for you but doing a poor job of hiding his irritation. “You know, I think your brother might actually laser-beam me with his eyes if he tries any harder,” Hangman murmurs. His voice a conspiratorial whisper that tickles the edge of your ear.
You glance over at Rooster and caught the unmistakable scowl etched across his face. “Yeah, he’s not your biggest fan right now,” you admit while feeling a mix of amusement and familial loyalty tug at you.
Hangman chuckles himself while shaking his head. “Well, if he starts throwing punches you’ll cover me, right? I mean, who’s going to lead the next sim if I’m out of commission?”
His joke eases the tension a bit and you nod, playing along. “I’ll do my best but no promises if he’s really got his heart set on it,” you quip back. Your voice light, teasing.
As you both share a laugh Rooster finally approaches, his steps measured, his expression softening just a touch as he nears. Hangman straightens up while giving you a quick, conspiratorial wink before stepping back to afford you and Rooster some space.
“Ready to go?” Rooster asks, his voice a careful neutral.
“Yeah, just about,” you respond before casting a final smile at Hangman who shoots you a mock-salute and heads off leaving a trace of warmth and a promise of more lighthearted banter for another day.
As Hangman strides away with a confident flick of his hand in farewell Rooster steps closer, his expression serious. “Just be careful with him, alright?” he mutters as his eyes tracked Hangman's departure.
You nod, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes which you let slip anyway as soon as Rooster looks away. “I know, I know. Don’t worry so much,” you reply, keeping your voice light to diffuse any further concern. Despite his protective instincts you're not about to let that dictate your interactions. Not even with someone as notoriously charming as Hangman.
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Second Wind
The Hard Deck is buzzing tonight. It was filled with the lively chatter and clinking glasses of Top Gun’s finest unwinding after a week of rigorous training. You’re in the midst of a heated pool game against Payback and the stakes are humorously high. As you line up your shot, the cue ball snapping crisply against your target you sunk it smoothly into the corner pocket. The small crowd od pilots and WSO’s around the pool table lets out a mixture of cheers and groans.
Hangman is the loudest. His voice booming over the others as he claps enthusiastically. “Atta girl, Ducky! Show him how it’s done!” he shouts. The grin evident in his voice. As you straighten up he steps forward while offering you a high-five that lingers just a moment too long. His hand warm and firm against yours. Your smile broadens and a laugh escapes you, fueled by the excitement of the game and the infectious energy of Hangman’s support. Around you the others cheer on, but you catch a glimpse of Rooster at the bar. His glass is halfway to his lips but he’s not drinking. He’s watching. His expression is unreadable, but the set of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes speak volumes.
As the game continues Hangman stays close, his cheers punctuating each of your successful shots. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline with each shout. Not just from the game but also from the attention he’s giving you. It’s fun, it's exhilarating, and it’s something you’ve found yourself looking forward to more often than not.
“You’re killing it, Ducky! Payback’s gonna need a consolation prize after this!” Hangman jests from beside the table. His tone teasing but not without a touch of pride.
Glancing over at Rooster again you notice the slight clench of his fist around his glass, his gaze lingering a moment too long on you and Hangman. It’s clear he’s less than thrilled about the growing camaraderie between you two. He was seeing Hangman’s overt praises as more than just friendly support. Despite the fun atmosphere you can’t shake the awareness of Rooster’s protective instincts flaring up, perhaps seeing Hangman’s enthusiasm as a challenge to his role as your guardian.
The banter between you and Hangman grows more spirited as the evening progresses. Each witty exchange draws laughter from the onlookers and adds a spark to the already electric atmosphere of the Hard Deck. “Careful Payback, she’s got more tricks up her sleeve than I've got maneuvers!” Hangman teases loudly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you line up another winning shot.
“Yeah, and all of them are better than yours,” you retort without missing a beat. The cue stick hitting the ball with a satisfying click as it sends it hurtling into the pocket.
The growing crowd gets into another round of cheers and Hangman’s laughter joins yours, filling the room with an infectious joy. You can’t help but revel in the blissfulness of it all. The ease of the exchange making the night all the more enjoyable.
From the corner of your eye though you see Rooster pushing away from the bar. His demeanor shifting from protective observer to active participant. Without a word he strides over to the piano in the corner of the room. The conversations around you dim as Rooster’s fingers begin to dance across the keys. That familiar tune that you both loved as kids filling the room.
You can’t help but laugh while shaking your head at Rooster’s not-so-subtle way of stealing the spotlight. “Show-off,” you mutter under your breath though the affection in your voice is clear.
Hangman leans closer, his voice low and amused. “Looks like someone’s trying to remind us he’s still the king of cool around here.”
You lean in too, matching his conspiratorial tone with a playful sparkle in your eye. “You know, I think he’s just trying to draw my attention away from a certain someone,” you say winking subtly at Hangman. “But honestly? I’d rather stay here and chat, just to annoy him a bit more.”
Hangman’s grin widens at that. His eyes lighting up with delight. “Oh, is that so?” he chuckles, clearly enjoying the game. “Well in that case, I’m more than happy to provide all the distraction you need.”
The playful exchange hangs between you, adding a layer of light-hearted flirtation to the evening. Rooster’s piano playing becomes a soft background melody to your continued conversation. Each note a subtle reminder of the familial ties that weave through your interactions. Yet, amidst the laughter and music, there’s a thrill in the air. A shared amusement that only adds to the night’s charm, leaving Hangman more enamored than ever.
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Third Time’s the Charm (Or Not)
The briefing room is charged with the usual post-flight tension as pilots and WSOs gather for the day’s assessments and comments from Maverick. You and Hangman had recently completed a tandem training flight that not only went exceptionally well but also demonstrated a seamless dynamic between the two of you. The energy from the flight still buzzes between you as you enter the room together, chatting lightly.
Maverick starts the briefing by outlining the objectives and reviewing key tactical points. As the session nears its end, Hangman, unable to contain his enthusiasm, stands abruptly, interrupting the flow. “I just wanted to say,” Hangman begins, his voice filled with a mix of pride and a hint of something deeper, “flying with Ducky here has been the highlight of my training. Honestly, she’s the best wingman I could ask for.” His eyes find yours across the room with a smile playing at his lips. The statement hanging heavily in the air, laden with unspoken implications.
The room falls into a stunned silence with every eye turning to gauge the reactions around them. Rooster’s chair scrapes back loudly as he stands, his face flushed with anger and frustration.
“This is just you trying to get under my skin, Hangman! Every damn time!” Rooster snaps. His voice cutting through the tension like a knife. The accusation hangs heavy, charging the air with an unmistakable intensity.
You feel a surge of frustration, your own temper flaring as you stand to face your brother. “Really, Roos? Is it always about you? Maybe he likes me as his wingman. Have you ever thought of that?” Your voice, sharp and loud, silences the room completely. The weight of your words settling over everyone like a thick blanket.
Maverick was caught off-guard between the sibling spat and simply looks between you and Rooster. His expression unreadable but clearly uneasy with the escalating drama. Hangman, meanwhile, watches the exchange with a look of remorse, realizing perhaps too late the depth of the rift his words have deepened. As the tension reaches a palpable peak you shake your head more in disappointment than anger, and storm out of the briefing room. Hangman hesitates only a moment before following you, his steps quick as he catches up.
Outside, the cool air hits you like a splash of water helping to temper your heated emotions.
Hangman watches you with a concerned expression as you step outside. “Hey, I know that got intense back there. I’m sorry you had to jump in,” he says softly, his tone sincere.
You sigh, feeling the sting of your outburst. “I just... I didn’t mean to blow up like that. It’s just frustrating when it feels like he doesn’t see me as anything more than his little sister to protect.”
Hangman nods while stepping closer, his presence comforting. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I meant every word I said in there. You really are the best wingman, Ducky.” His voice carries a warmth that makes you look up, meeting his reassuring gaze.
The corners of your mouth lift in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Hangman. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” You knew full well he wasn’t one to hand out compliments.
His expression softens and he offers a small, encouraging chuckle. “And, hey, if it’s any consolation, you standing up to your brother in there? That was pretty badass. Not many people can make Rooster pause like that. Trust me, I’ve tried” He smirks trying to ease your frustration.
You laugh at that sounding more relaxed now. “Well, I guess it’s good to know I have a hidden superpower: stopping Bradley in his tracks.”
“Definitely a valuable skill around here,” Hangman agrees, his grin infectious. “Look, I know things can get complicated, but I’m here, alright? Wingman on the ground and in the air.”
The simple assurance brings a sense of relief, and you nod feeling the earlier tension dissipate. “I appreciate that, Jake. Really.”
As you both head back inside the conversation flows more easily, veering into lighter territories—upcoming missions, favorite downtime activities, and the occasional gentle tease. With each step you find yourself genuinely smiling. The weight of the day lifting with the shared understanding that whatever comes next you won’t face it alone.
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Clearing the Air
After the tension of the previous day, you know something has to give. Seizing a quiet moment in the early evening you find Rooster and Hangman at the base and steer them toward a secluded spot near the hangar. The impromptu gathering under the fading sky isn’t formal but the air is thick with unsaid things.
“Okay, guys,” you start, cutting straight to the chase. “We need to sort this out. Whatever this is.” You sigh, “Rooster, I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do. But I’m not just your little sister here… I’m a WSO in the Navy, and I need you to trust my judgment. Not just in the air but here on the ground, too.”
He tries to bite his tongue, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Listen, Y/N, I’m just looking out for you. That’s my job as your brother,” Bradley insisted. His voice stern and unyielding.
Jake shifted uncomfortably, sensing the rising heat in Rooster's tone but remaining silent. His eyes flicking between the two of you.
“It’s not just about being my brother, Bradley!” you shot back, your frustration with him now boiling over. “I’m not a child, and this… this overprotective routine? It’s suffocating. I’m an adult! A WSO and a damn good one at that. I make life or death decisions every day. I can handle Jake. I can handle myself.”
Bradley’s expression tightened. His jaw clenching as he prepared to argue, but you didn’t let him. “I need you to trust my judgment, Roos. Trust that I know what I’m doing. Trust that I can take care of myself.” Your eyes are pleading now.
The raw honesty in your voice seemed to cut through the tension, leaving a heavy silence. Jake watched, his usual bravado nowhere in sight instead replaced by a look of respect towards your fervent declaration.
Bradley looked from you to Hangman, then back again. The fight draining from his stance. He sighed deeply, the lines of his face softening. “I… I’m sorry. I know you’re capable. It’s just hard for me to not see you as my little sister. But you’re right. You deserve to make your own choices. I’ll try to back off.”
You breathed out a mix of relief and residual adrenaline making your hands tremble slightly. “Thank you, Roos. That’s all I ask.”
Turning to Hangman, your tone softens. “And Jake, you’ve been great, really supportive. But sometimes the way you push Bradley’s buttons doesn’t help things. We’re all on the same team, right?”
Jake chuckles while scratching his head sheepishly. He was immensely grateful you were able to handle that before things got too sticky. “Yeah, you’re right darlin’. I might enjoy teasing him a bit too much. I’ll keep it in check.” He nods his head to Bradley. A truce of sorts.
Relief washes over you as the tension begins to dissolve. “Thank you, both. Let’s remember we’re here to make each other better, not make things harder.”
As the conversation winds down, the mood lightens, and Bradley claps you both on the shoulders. “Alright, let’s get back to it then. And maybe I’ll try to keep the drama for the simulators,” he says with a reluctant grin.
As your brother walks away Jake lingers, his smile genuine. “So, now that peace is restored, how about we grab dinner? Just you and me. I owe you one for being the peacekeeper around here.”
Your laughter echoes lightly in the cool evening air. “Sounds like a plan. Just promise it’ll be a drama-free meal.”
“Scout’s honor,” He grins as he fell into step beside you. As you walk towards the mess hall together the easiness between the two of you feels restored. And maybe, just maybe, you feel things a little bit deeper than before.
“Y/N, I wasn’t just trying to get on your good side earlier, you know?” Jake adds as you reach the door. “You really are the best at what you do.”
You nudge him playfully, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away. “Keep that up and I might let you win at the next sim.”
Hangman laughs loudly. It was a sound you were coming to enjoy. “Deal. But only if you save me a seat next to you at dinner.” As you step into the warmth of the mess hall you can’t help but feel optimistic. With everything laid out and understood the path forward seems a lot clearer. And having Hangman at your side doesn’t just feel good. It feels utterly right.
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barnacles34 · 2 months ago
Text
Beautiful Relationship
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Tags: Romance, Sex, Soft Ryujin, Male Reader
With her nestled against the edge of the tub, I reached for the book I had left on the counter, opening it to where we had left off. It was an old copy of "Anna Karenina," the pages slightly yellowed, the spine well-worn from countless readings.
Ryujin sighed contentedly as I began to read aloud, my voice low, resonating in the quiet intimacy of the bathroom.
“‘All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow,’” I read, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my lap. The words seemed to echo in the room, intertwining with the stillness around us. “‘In seeking happiness for others, we find it in ourselves.’”
Ryujin tilted her head back slightly, her eyes closed, her body fully relaxed against mine. “I love hearing you read,” she whispered
----------------------
The foggy weather clung to my skin like a second layer, a damp embrace that blurred the edges of the world around me as I stepped out of the condo. Each step felt light, almost floating, buoyed by the strange clarity that had settled over me. The condo itself—where I had just experienced something raw, something deeper than anything I’d known—felt miles away already, even though Ryujin's presence was still etched into my senses. Her face buried in a book, she had waved lazily from the large leather couch as I left, a gentle smile on her lips, a silent reassurance that lingered in the back of my mind.
The streets outside were nearly empty, a ghostly contrast to the usual bustling of Seoul. It was the kind of solitude I had long craved, the quiet that comes after the rain when the air smells of wet earth and fresh grass, mingling with the faint, distant scent of exhaust and city life. The kind of quiet where thoughts can breathe, where the world's noise feels muted, and the only sound is the gentle patter of raindrops on pavement. I inhaled deeply, feeling a strange contentment in the cool, misty air—a sensation that was somehow both calming and electric.
Enough of the background setting drivel. My mind snapped back to the task at hand as I drove toward Samsen HQ, the cityscape slipping by in a blur of gray and silver. The receptionists at the front desk were visibly surprised at my unexpected arrival. I saw them exchange glances, a flicker of confusion passing over their faces before they snapped back into their polished smiles. I had been absent from the office for a few days—unusual for me, and certainly enough to stir the quiet currents of office politics that always buzzed beneath the surface. There was always a game being played here, even if you sat at the top.
The days of absence had been deliberate, of course, a move calculated to keep the lesser sharks on their toes, to stoke the fires of intrigue among those who thought they could outmaneuver me. Let them wonder, let them speculate—it kept them busy and distracted. To be honest, the supposed mind games were more of an ego trip than any real threat. These pretenders held barely any power to undermine me. They were nuisances at best, and any one of them could be removed with a single call. The irony was almost amusing. I had the president’s number on speed dial, and yet these people acted as if they could orchestrate my downfall with hushed whispers in the hallways.
“Viva la Seoul!” I muttered to myself, a half-smile playing on my lips as I navigated the labyrinthine corridors of corporate life. The place had always fascinated me, with its paradoxes and its hypocrisies, its cutthroat maneuvering, and its strange, almost poetic absurdities. The Nietzschean interns who would debase themselves for a fraction of my hourly wage, desperate for approval or advancement. The older managers, balding and paunchy, somehow managing to crawl up the ladder faster than those who had dedicated themselves to optimal efficiency and health.
Was I evil for thriving in this environment? Was there something fundamentally wrong with finding beauty in these contradictions, in relishing the dance of corporate warfare? The thought amused me more than it should have. Maybe it was the fact that my entire existence was built around these principles, these axioms of survival. Maybe that was why I found it so hard to believe that anyone else could see the world any differently.
But then there was Ryujin, the outlier, the anomaly that challenged everything I thought I knew. She was proof that there was another way, that life didn’t have to be a series of calculated moves, that it could be something more—a mix of spontaneity and sincerity, without pretense or strategy. She was the exception to the rule, enough to make me question the very foundations of my beliefs, to make me wonder if maybe, just maybe, there was a different way to play the game.
The danger she posed was undeniable—she could unravel me, expose me to vulnerabilities I hadn’t known existed. And yet, the benefits she offered were so much more profound, so much more intrinsic. With her, everything seemed more vivid, more real. The same conversations I’d grown to hate with others—talks of relationships, the future—felt fresh and exciting with her, filled with possibility and promise.
I was so lost in thought that I almost missed the knock at my door, the sharp rap that pulled me back into the present. My new secretary entered without waiting for a response, a young woman with bright eyes and a sharp tongue, one of the few I hadn’t hired for her looks or her connections but for her brains and her grit. She had been foisted on me by my so-called equals, who thought I needed someone to keep me in check. They didn’t realize that I’d turned her into an asset, someone who could see through the corporate fog almost as well as I could.
“Sir!” she burst out, a hint of panic in her voice. “A rival competitor has just published an article about your recent absence. And they’ve announced a new home appliance chain aimed directly at Samsen’s market.”
I felt a slow smile creep across my face. “Good,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Let them make their moves.”
It was showtime. The familiar thrill of the game flooded through me, sharpening my senses, focusing my mind. The room seemed to hum with a new energy, the fog outside thickening as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
I liked the unpredictability, the dance of strategy and counter-strategy. I could already imagine the maneuvers that would follow, the ripple effects of this new announcement, the way I would turn this challenge into an opportunity. In the end, it was all just another move on the board, another chance to prove that I was still the master of this game.
But even as I prepared to dive back into the fray, my thoughts drifted back to Ryujin. Her face, her smile, the way she made everything seem a little less bleak, a little less calculated. She was the only unknown variable, the one piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit. And maybe that was why I couldn’t stop thinking about her, even now, with the scent of competition in the air and the thrill of the fight ahead.
“Alright,” I said, snapping back to the moment, my voice calm but firm. “Let’s see what they’ve got.”
The secretary nodded, turning to leave, but not before casting a quick, curious glance over her shoulder. I didn’t mind. Let them wonder. Let them speculate. They had no idea what was coming next. Neither did I, but for once, that uncertainty felt like an advantage.
—--
After a whole day’s worth of intrigue, the outside felt damper than before with the slight tint of the night on the sky. The executive cars quickly pulling away to their respective areas after Samsen closed in a new historic high on the stock market. Greene’s power laws were accurate, accurate in their vagueness, in what constitutes as a power play, a masterful case of deception, and it just so happens that I have internalized it. 
Crooked? Maybe. 
The drive back home felt even fresher, unburdened by the rush of being down on the market, and burdened by the smell fresh of the damp grass, the damp streets with my windows all the way down. Pedestrians drew their phones, seeking to record the person that seemingly sways the national politics wherever he went. 
I promise you this is not an ego play, I really do control the national politics, but the magnitude of power also brings about the same magnitude of the potential to fail. But I’m used to that, my years of training, being down millions, multiple millions have utterly destroyed whatever the fuck part of brain controls my ability to discern risk. People don’t know how leveraged I am on the stocks, how leveraged to the fucking tits I am, my entire multi-billion fortune rests on the slight percent nudges of the hour, the minute, the second. 
That’s what drives me, performance adapts to what you expect and prepare for. Fortunately for me and unfortunately for the public, The government is readily available to bail me out in the billions.
Finally, I pull into the parking lot. I anticipate what I might see when I enter the condo, excited for the possibilities and excited for whatever the singular possibility might be. Will I see my hot girlfriend splayed onto the armchair, with only a tight-knit sweater dress on? 
The smell of vanilla wafted in the air as I approached the condo. As I approached, I was about to input the code into the door but it just opened with the touch of my fingers. And I saw Ryujin standing there, in a tasteful pajama set with loafers waiting at the door.
“Did you really read books all day?” I asked.
“Sometimes these days are warranted.” And hugged me below my shoulders, it’s always a spectacle to feel how small a kpop idol truly is, not that I have experience with them, it’s just that Ryujin feels small. I held her waist as I slowly entered, as she slowly moved backwards.
“Did you eat?” She asked, stepping away so that I could take off my shoes. 
“No, I just wanted to be home early.”
“Aww, you must be tired,” Ryujin said softly, stepping back to give me space as I entered. She glanced at the table, where dinner was already laid out, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes about her care.
I looked at the meal, then back at her, a small nod of acknowledgment passing between us. “You didn’t have to wait,” I said, my voice steady, though the hint of gratitude was unmistakable.
She shrugged slightly, her hands finding their way into her pockets, a gesture of both nonchalance and shyness. “I wanted to. Besides, I wasn’t really hungry until you got here.”
I raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “Convenient.”
Ryujin met my gaze briefly, then looked away, a subtle flush creeping up her neck. “Yeah, well… I figured you’d be starving after today.”
I walked over to the table, pulling out a chair for her. “Sit,” I said, more as a gentle command than a request. She hesitated for a split second before complying, her movements almost tentative as she took the seat.
I settled into the chair across from her, the space between us charged with an energy that was still new, still unfolding. There was a comfort in the silence that hung in the air, a kind of unspoken understanding that neither of us felt the need to fill with words.
“Did you make this?” I asked, gesturing to the food, though the answer was already clear.
“Yeah,” she replied, her voice soft. “I hope it’s okay.”
I nodded, picking up my chopsticks. “It’s more than okay.”
We started eating, the clinking of chopsticks against bowls the only sound for a while. I could feel Ryujin’s eyes on me from time to time, as if she was trying to gauge something, but she didn’t say anything. I let the quiet stretch on, content to let the moment linger.
Eventually, she broke the silence, her voice low, almost as if she wasn’t sure whether to speak. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
I didn’t look up right away, taking a moment to finish my bite before responding. “Yeah?”
She shifted in her seat, her fingers fidgeting slightly with her chopsticks. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
I placed my chopsticks down, meeting her gaze with a steadiness that I hoped would reassure her. “You’re not. We’re figuring it out.”
Her lips curved into a small, uncertain smile, and she nodded. “I guess I just… I want to be what you need.”
I leaned back in my chair, studying her for a moment before replying. “You already are. But this isn’t just about what I need.”
Ryujin’s eyes flickered with something—relief, maybe?—but she didn’t say anything, just nodded again, as if she was absorbing my words.
Our dinner ended in satisfaction, and plates were washed under our melodic humming. And the area of our participation changed, onto the couch.
The room was dim, the glow from the TV casting shifting patterns of light and shadow around us. "Twin Peaks" flickered on the screen, the eerie opening score filling the quiet. Ryujin leaned into me, her body fitting neatly against my side, one arm draped over my stomach.
I tightened my hold around her, my hand resting firmly on her waist. She sighed softly, a small, content sound, her eyes fixed on the screen but her body melting further into mine.
“You like this show?” she asked quietly, almost as if testing the waters.
“I do,” I replied, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on her hip. “It’s got that strange charm”
She chuckled under her breath, a sound that sent a warm hum through me. “Kind of like you, then.”
I smirked. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”
She shook her head, nestling closer, her hand moving slightly against my shirt. “No… I don’t.”
I could feel her pulse, a steady beat beneath my palm, her head resting on my shoulder, her breaths syncing with mine. She was so quiet, so small in these moments, her usual boldness softened by the closeness between us.
Without a word, I shifted, pulling her fully into my lap. She let out a surprised breath, looking up at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing?” she asked, though there was no real protest in her tone.
“Getting comfortable,” I replied simply, guiding her so her legs draped over mine. “Is that a problem?”
She shook her head, a slight blush creeping up her neck. “No… it’s fine.”
We settled again, her hands resting lightly on my chest, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them. I covered them with mine, holding her in place. Her cheeks flushed deeper, and I could feel the way her heartbeat quickened just slightly under my touch.
We watched in silence for a while, my fingers tracing idle patterns on her back. Ryujin shifted now and then, as if finding new ways to fold herself into me, her body instinctively seeking more contact.
The sound of Agent Cooper’s voice drifted through the room, but I was more aware of her—the soft rise and fall of her breathing, the way her fingers occasionally twitched against my shirt, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t quite sure how.
“Do you think they’ll solve the mystery?” she asked at last, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I think it’s less about the mystery,” I said, my tone low, “and more about how it pulls everyone together… or apart.”
Ryujin nodded slowly, her eyes still on mine, her thumb brushing over my hand. “Kind of like us,” she murmured, almost absently.
I chuckled softly, leaning down until our foreheads almost touched. “Are you saying I’m a mystery?”
She bit her lip, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Maybe… but one I don’t mind trying to solve.”
I smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Good. I like keeping you guessing.”
She laughed, the sound soft and genuine, and then snuggled deeper into my hold, her head resting just under my chin. Her fingers found mine, and she gave a light squeeze, her body relaxing completely against me.
And there, in the flickering light of the TV, we stayed close, without the need for any more words.
A dim warmth spread through my body, a quiet satisfaction as Ryujin nestled into me, her legs folded beneath her. Her soft breaths were steady, rhythmic, her chest rising and falling in a comforting cadence. The episode of "Twin Peaks" ended, but our embrace didn’t. The TV hummed faintly, the credits rolling into a quiet, glowing blue, and yet neither of us moved, content to linger in this stillness.
Her fingers traced over my hands, studying them in the dim light, her thumb brushing against the calluses. “How did your hands get so rough? Did you fight every day or something?” she asked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.
“After training, yeah,” I replied, a small smile forming as I remembered. “I used to be part of an underground fight ring. It was fucking crazy… I still don’t know why I joined. It was full of middle-aged losers, and we’d just beat each other up, badly, almost every day.”
Ryujin's laughter bubbled up, a sound both amused and surprised. “What the hell? Seriously? Was the owner some big 'Fight Club' fan or something?”
“I don’t know,” I said, shrugging. “But there was this weird nostalgic element to it… getting stitches almost on a daily basis, feeling like I was constantly on the edge.”
Her laughter faded into a more thoughtful expression, her brow furrowing slightly as she massaged my hands, now resting on her lap. She slowly turned on my lap, shifting until she was facing me, her gaze searching my face with a mix of amusement and concern. “Gosh. What would you do without me? Look at these scars, and how rough your hands are! How did your face not get nicked?”
I smirked. “Oh, it got nicked. Plenty of times, at first. But a teenager learns pretty quickly among a bunch of 40-year-olds. By the end, no one really wanted to fight me.”
Her eyes softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she continued to trace the lines of my scars. “Sounds like a mix of ego and insanity,” she teased, but there was an underlying tenderness in her tone.
I leaned back, letting her study me, feeling the weight of her gaze on my skin. “Maybe,” I admitted. “But it made me who I am, for better or worse.”
Ryujin shook her head, still smiling, and then leaned in, pressing her forehead to mine. “You're a little crazy, you know that?”
“Is that a compliment?” I asked, my voice low, teasing.
She laughed softly. “It’s an observation. But… yeah, I guess it is. You pretend like you don’t need anyone, but here you are, with me, letting me hold you like this.”
I felt a warmth spread through my chest, her words sinking in deeper than I’d expected. I tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. “Maybe you just have a way of breaking through,” I said, brushing my thumb over her cheek.
Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she settled closer, her hands resting on my shoulders now, her body melting into mine as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “Maybe… or maybe you just needed someone to see you,” she whispered, her voice soft but certain.
I didn’t reply right away, just let my fingers move to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as I held her close. I felt her relax, her body going pliant against me, and there was a peace in that moment, something that felt unspoken but deeply understood. 
A slow movement between each other occurred, and a slow kiss formed out of it all. A passionate, an unendingly lovely kiss, a kiss that could only be shared by two lovers. I reached deeper, my head moving forward deeper into the kiss, trying to get more out of Ryujin, her taste, her beauty. I slowly stood up, with her still on my body, I held her up with my arms around her waist while still sharing a passionate kiss. 
How could a girl be this lovely? Holy shit.
I quickly plant her on the leather couch, a black luxury couch too expensive for a single man, but a perfect frame for the most beautiful girl in the world. She laid on the couch, motioning for me to join her, in laying, in loving. The next seconds were a haze, the warmth of a kiss being shared, her soft bosom pressed up against me, The warmth shared by two bodies aggressively pressing each other to get more out of each other.
My left hand went from her waist to her breast, gripping firmly against the soft of her clothes, the soft of her breast. She mewled in my mouth, taking quick breaths trying to continue the kiss as long as possible, unbearably aroused by my body.
I quickly pulled away, she was irritated, I quickly took off my button-up, more like ripping it apart, buttons everywhere. That didn’t matter at all, we quickly continued our session, she softly rubbed her hands all over my back as I kissed into her. 
Then, clothes flew off each moment, and a kiss shared in each layer, and a mess on the floor. Her creamy-white skin caved at my touch, the slight ripple of her semi-abs visible as I greedily took more of her. Finally, her bra came off, the perfectly pink nipples were visible, and completely rigid. The kiss transitioned as my mouth traced over her body down to her breast.
I sucked lightly, fingering at her other nipple. Her loud moans and body ripples only inspired greater performance, I felt a slight tug when I felt her fingers around my hair and she seemed to be moaning louder.
I nibbled at her nipple, kissed the white skin around the nipple, which compressed at the slightest touch. It was almost heaven, a girl who gave me her virginity, a girl who is witty, smart, and loving. 
After enough teasing of her nipples, she began to be more reactive, perhaps signalling that it’s turned into pain rather than pleasure. So I stopped, caressing the pads of my fingers along her body, her curves, her identity, all the way down to her thighs where my thumbs hooked on her panties that were damp. 
“You must be excited.” I teased.
“Ah… please I’m so wet, you kept teasing my nipples you bastar- Ah!” I slipped a finger inside her, interrupting her, amusing myself in her arousal.
I took the finger out, it glistened even in the warm light.
“Open your mouth.” I demanded.
She complied, with her mouth open, I inserted the glistening finger inside her, “Tastes good?”.
“So Gooth-.” She replied with my finger still in her mouth. A slight vibration, a fiercely erotic sign, a sign that she was so stimulated that her body was vibrating as a coping mechanism after realizing other ways of coping with it were futile. 
I took out the finger out of her tender, warm mouth, with a trace of saliva still on my finger, I slowly tracked down her body, the shine of her saliva following suit, the rise of her breasts, the drop to her ribs, the softness of her belly no, abdomen, it would be an insult to call it a belly, it was the perfect midriff. The quiver getting more intense as the tip of my finger slowly approaching her pussy.
I pulled off my hands off her body quickly, and hastily set to pull off my belt; suddenly, Ryujin laid her hands on my belt, showing that she wanted to take it off, that she wanted to see my cock entirely of her own volition. Slowly, making sure that whenever her hands were not occupied with taking off my belt and undergarments, she grazed my abdomen with her fingers any chance that she got. She was kneeled on the couch, crouched over, I was kneeled up straight, and she took her time enjoying the rare opportunity to tease me.
She was entirely naked, and I got to see her back, her beautiful back, one that was crafted through sheer divination by the lords above, there was absolutely no other way to achieve that back, the hourglass shape of her waist and the curve of her hip bones, lord almighty.
I traced the lines of her back with my hands as she finally got down my underwear. Whilst I busied myself with her breasts, now that it was hanging, it was even softer, even more beautiful and absolute euphoria to handle.
A firm grasp disrupted my vivid imagination. “Are you gonna keep teasing my breasts, is it that lovely?” she said with a laugh, slightly firmer on the cloth that barely hid my erection. “Is underwear like this even practical? It looks like it’s a camp site!” Somehow she found some humor in this situation, most likely embarrassed about giving me fellatio. 
Of course, I know the cure. I grasped her hair tightly, the hair that has been diligently grown, perfect to grab tightly and insist on what actions you want. She obliged in the pull, her legs completely folded in obedience, and obliging in the slight pulls and pushes of my hand. 
“Too hard?” I asked.
“I don’t even know why you have to ask.” She replied, with a bright flush in her cheeks, knowing that she likes it and that I know it.
“You’re gonna suck my cock, and you’ll do it diligently; and you’ll get fucked into this couch.”
“Ye- Yes.. please Koji.” She submitted with speech.
I swiftly pulled out my erection, and I leaned into the railing of the couch, inviting Ryujin over. She moved closer, still kneeling, still crouched, and slowly approached my erection. She breathed deeply, getting closer to my dick, and started to stroke it with her hand. The soft coldness of her hands confirmed my suspicion, she was so nervous that all the heat went to her torso, “you don’t have to be so nervous, baby.” She smiled at the remark, and immediately took my dick in her mouth.
She learned so quickly, it was unbelievable, what a virtuoso. She sucked on my length, going halfway with an incredible suction. The pleasure was intense, a sensation of sucking was strong, and I would peak too quickly to enjoy her body. 
“My muse, aren’t you learning a little bit too fast?” I said with a chuckle, gritting my teeth against the pleasure.
She released, still very close to the tip, “it’s so delicious that I had no choice but to learn, and it seems it paid off.” Yes it has, but of course there’s an opposing force every force. Before she could continue sucking me off, I pushed her onto the couch. 
“Should I make you cum in one stroke?” I asked, fully intending to do.
“You wish.” Scoffing at my threat. “I was a virgin then-”
I quickly placed pressure just at the edge of the pubis bone, then the other hand traced the outer lips of her pink pussy. Her solid determination was nearly broken at that moment, a hand placed on her lower abdomen pressing into her was getting her off so well.
And it was a technique that only got more arousing the more it was used. She was a goddess personified and I was disgracing her by almost getting her to cum with light presses and pressure. The fingers that traced the outer lips of her pussy slowly converged on her clit hood, applying almost a graze over it, each graze getting a sizzling inhale from Ryujin. 
“Ah~ fuck, I’m gonna come! I’m gonna come!”
I immediately took off my hands, and I stared at her. “Wha- What are you doing? I was so close.” I didn’t reply, I swung my left hand against her hip bone, a firm slap, as close as you could get to her ass in missionary. 
She yelped, and I covered her mouth with a firm grip, “it would be a disgrace for you cum on my fingers, and even less so without me penetrating you at all.” I leaned into her with a hand still on her mouth, leaving enough room for her to breathe through her nose. I was still quite above her to let her see me entering her, she looked down, as I slowly pressed my member at the heat, prodding, then slowly entering. When I saw that she was not looking down and when she was trying to deal with the pleasure, I quickly took the hand off her mouth and pulled her head forward to make her look as I entered inside. Each inch pain-stakingly slow and purposeful, she stared with pleasure ablaze.
“Princess. I am the only one who understands you.”
That was it, that was the moment she lost it. I immediately entered to the hilt, then pulled out. She spasmed at the intensity, squirting all over the leather couch, screaming and moaning at the pleasure. “Oh my fucking god!” She placed a hand over her head to recover.
The latter minutes were spent with a more furious kind of love, an intense love.
A manner in which I fucked her, with love and embrace. I held her in missionary position, grasping the nape of her neck, sharing our mouths as I repeatedly and fully drew inside her fully. The motions bringing the deep moans of pleasure out in the form of vibrations in her body, and mewls of her mouth.
She loved giving up control in intercourse, it was something that brought her pleasure to no end. To know that she was not in control of her orgasm nor mine, that any second I could pull away and let her mewl in anticipation, and suffer right under the eclipse of her orgasm. However, she loved it more when we shared our arousal, in this position, she could kiss my shoulder, kiss my jaw, caress my back, and even massage my shoulders. Of course, she engaged in these sorts of affection, she couldn’t control it and I could never resist it. The deeper I went, the more her moan hummed against my jaw when she kissed it.
Sometimes I pulled off to maintain eye contact with her, noticing the twists in her eyebrows, the whiskered dimples of her cheeks as she was drawn to climax again. This time though, her legs locked me inside her, she knew that it would take multiple orgasms for her to get me to eclipse, she acknowledged it and was fully intent on it. Of course, the significant height and weight difference didn’t allow Ryujin to maintain much control at all. Instead of the leg lock, I swiftly kneeled up while my dick was still inside her, while she stared expectantly. 
I seized her legs, right above my shoulders, “Oh not again!” She definitely remembered the first time I did this. Then I lowered myself to kiss her, her legs were now placed next to her ears.
“I feel this is my obligation, to train your flexibility.” Still punishing her cunt with my deep strokes inside her
“Oh please-ah! Yo- You just want to fuck my brains out!” She was right.
 I still held her legs as the way they were, but I wanted a fuller picture, a picture where I saw Ryujin enjoying herself to the fullest. I observed the strokes, her cunt glossy with her arousal, I wanted her to enjoy it even more.
From then and there, I placed my hand on the place of her pubis bone, compressing the canal that anticipated my strokes, and a slight thumbing on her clit.
One, euphora
Two, amazing
Three, orgasm
She came again, this time she was allowed no movement, my hands acted as braces that held her down, and she vibrated in pleasure.
She tightened even further, her moans became more guttural as the added pleasures of my hands began to feel more like punishment.
I chuckled, she was such an angel. I released my hands, the hands thus landed on the breasts, the warm pliable breasts with very noticeable aroused nipples.
I had been pumping so quickly and hadn’t realized that I was getting close, I was enjoying her mewls and moans so much that I realized that I might cum this instant. Despite the fact that I finally bought condoms because I kept cumming inside her, I forgot to use it. 
Trying to resist pulling out of Ryujin’s pussy was impossible, it wasn’t ‘almost impossible’ it was plain and simply impossible. And Ryujin definitely felt the twitch my cock, “Please Please Cum inside me! Do it inside me~!”
Finally, I pumped into her one two three times and fell onto her as I filled her with my seed.
“I might actually get pregnant at this rate” she chuckled with her hands getting tangled in my hair
“I don’t even fucking care anymore” I breathed by her side, ear-to-ear.
“Would you like that? A little Koji running around?” She asked.
“I don’t know, what about you?” Genuinely curious about her opinion.
“I think it’s cute to see a little Koji running around, a little Koji that has a happier childhood.”
“I love you” I kissed her lips.
She murmured something against my lips, most likely “I love you” too.
The warmth of the embrace lingered as we finally moved from the couch. The night had drawn on, but the intimacy between us only grew stronger. Ryujin stood up, her hand slipping into mine, and without a word, she led me towards the bathroom.
The bathroom light flickered on, casting a soft glow across the tiles. The shower was already running, steam curling up and filling the small space with a comforting heat. Ryujin turned to me, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of affection and something deeper. She reached up, gently tugging at my hand.
Soon, the warmth of the steam wrapped around us both.
We stepped into the shower together, the hot water cascading over our bodies, washing away the day. Ryujin reached for the soap, her hands lathering it up before gently running it over my chest. Her touch was soft, methodical, as if she was memorizing every inch of me. I closed my eyes, leaning into the sensation, the warmth of her hands, the soothing pressure as she worked the soap across my skin.
I returned the favor, my hands moving slowly, carefully, over her shoulders, down her back, the water rinsing away the suds in gentle streams. She sighed, a sound of pure contentment, as I massaged the tension from her muscles, taking my time, savoring the closeness.
When she turned to face me, her eyes were soft, almost vulnerable. I cupped her face in my hands, letting the water pour over us, and she leaned into my touch, her own hands resting on my waist. For a moment, we just stood there, water pouring over us, our foreheads touching, our breaths mingling in the steam-filled air.
Finally, I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, and finally her lips—slow, lingering, full of the unspoken things between us. She kissed me back, her hands moving up to tangle in my wet hair, holding me close.
When the kiss broke, we both smiled, a small, shared moment of understanding. I reached for the shower’s knob, turning off the water, the sudden silence almost startling. Ryujin didn’t let go, though. Instead, she wrapped herself around me, resting her head on my chest as the last of the water dripped off us.
“I want to take a bath,” she murmured, her voice soft, almost shy.
I smiled, pressing another kiss to her damp hair. “Let’s do it.”
We stepped out of the shower, toweling off quickly before I started the bath, adjusting the temperature until it was just right. Ryujin watched me, her eyes following my every movement, a small smile playing on her lips. Once the tub was filled, she sank into it with a sigh, the hot water enveloping her.
I settled on a chair that directly faced ryujin still with a towel draped over my lap, watching as she leaned back, closing her eyes, her face relaxing completely. The room was filled with the soft sounds of water lapping against her skin, the scent of lavender from the bath salts mixing with the steam.
“Join me?” she asked, opening her eyes just a sliver, looking up at me with a hopeful expression.
“Don’t even try” I chuckled at the previous time she asked for me to join her in the bath.
With her nestled against the edge of the tub, I reached for the book I had left on the counter, opening it to where we had left off. It was an old copy of "Anna Karenina," the pages slightly yellowed, the spine well-worn from countless readings.
Ryujin sighed contentedly as I began to read aloud, my voice low, resonating in the quiet intimacy of the bathroom.
“‘All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life is made up of light and shadow,’” I read, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on my lap. The words seemed to echo in the room, intertwining with the stillness around us. “‘In seeking happiness for others, we find it in ourselves.’”
Ryujin tilted her head back slightly, her eyes closed, her body fully relaxed against mine. “I love hearing you read,” she whispered, her voice almost drowned out by the water, but I caught it, and it warmed me from the inside out.
I continued reading, my voice steady, letting the words flow through the air, wrapping around us both. “‘But every one of these men, straightway from the first minute of their meeting, was seized by an unwonted feeling of respect, as though they had met with something sacred, and in consequence every word and gesture of hers seemed to them more important and significant than they had ever been before.’”
Ryujin’s fingers played idly with mine beneath the water, her thumb brushing against my knuckles as she listened. The words from the book mixed with the rhythm of our breathing, with the warmth of the water and the quiet that enveloped us.
As I read on, the story of Anna Karenina unfolding in the soft light, I could feel Ryujin’s heartbeat, slow and steady, matching mine. The romance of the scene in the book felt distant compared to the reality of her in my arms, this intimate moment we were sharing.
Eventually, I let the book rest on the edge of the tub, my voice trailing off as I pressed a kiss to her damp shoulder. “You know,” I murmured, my lips brushing against her skin, “this might be better than any book.”
She turned slightly in the water, looking up at me with a playful smile. “Only might be?”
I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her, slow and deep, letting the warmth of the bath and the softness of her lips consume me. “Definitely better,” I corrected softly against her mouth.
Ryujin smiled, a content, sleepy smile, and nuzzled back against my chest. We stayed like that for a while, the water gradually cooling around us, but neither of us was in a hurry to move. The book lay forgotten on the edge of the tub as we simply enjoyed the closeness, the feeling of being utterly connected in this quiet, private world we had created together.
P.S: I have the whole prequel ready but the writing quality is a lot worse than this but its 20k words of setup, comment below if you want it.
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cherryrikis · 3 months ago
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ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 006 ! first time for everything
PAIRING idols riki x fem reader
SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.
authors note no update yesterday (sorryyy) bc i decided to actually take a break! ps wc is 1.7k.. i got a little carried away😭
previous <> masterlist <> next
after giving riki your number less than 24 hours ago, he wasted no time to use it. you knew that he would eventually text or call you, it just wasn’t expected to be so soon.
so you were not expecting to wake up from a text from him.
you somewhat screamed out loud, dropping your phone on the floor. but as soon as danielle came rushing in from the other bedroom, your clarity hit.
the clock next to your bed read 4:59 am. you realized, it was the middle of the night. everyone was sleeping, until you woke up the people who were now in front of you.
“what? what is it?” danielle sat on your bed with hyein following soon after.
as she moved to lay down beside you, hyein stared at the other two girls who you shared a room with. minji and haerin were still fast asleep, having been used to your habit of being loud at the slightest inconvenience. especially since you were known to wake up in the middle of the night.
“he texted me at two in the morning, and i didn’t see till now!” you squealed.
danielle groaned in annoyance. “oh come on y/n! i almost actually slept good knowing we had no schedule today. now i’ll never be able to go back to sleep!”
hyein ignored her, turning her attention to you. she lifted her head up from your pillow before taking your phone.
“if your crush texted you in the middle of the night, you’d be the exact same way.” she squinted at danielle. “too bad i don’t like anyone then.”
they both read the text from riki, examining it.
“what the fuck? you woke us up for a ‘hey’?” hyein’s mood changed as she read the message out loud.
“well i didn’t open it! i just saw the notification..” you whined.
“wait! what? look, it says he’s texting right now!” danielle pointed her finger to your phone as the bubble appeared, which indicated he was in fact typing.
‘u busy today?’
“what are you gonna say? why is he even awake right now?”
“i bet he detected that she read it. like some spiderman tingle. that’s his.. ni-ki senses.” hyein stifled a laugh.
“shut up! give me my phone.”
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you smiled at the texts, before turning the phone off and tucking it under your pillow. you pulled up your blanket from the edge of the bed, but it didn’t move, feeling unusually heavy.
at the end of the mattress, laid hyein and danielle. they had fallen fast asleep throughout the duration of your conversation.
on a typical day, you would be annoyed. but today was no average morning. you had yourself a date with nishimura riki.
you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the fact that you had to sleep with no blanket. you still slept well, looking forward to what your evening will bring.
“where are you going all dressed up?” haerin sat down next to you on the couch, as she gestured to your outfit. it was nothing too special, just a tube top and some baggy cargos.
“she has a date with nishimura riki!” hyein chimed in from the kitchen.
“what?!” hanni, haerin, and minji exclaimed in unison.
“yeah, it happened this morning. but you guys were sleeping.” you shrugged, before leaning down to tie your shoes (which danielle so kindly picked out and handed to you).
“is he picking you up?” hanni questioned, suddenly intrigued.
“yes, he should be here.. around now, actually.”
as if right on cue, riki was knocking on the door of your shared dorm.
“i got it!” minji rushed as she beat danielle to the entrance.
she opened the door, which behind it, revealed your knight in shining armor. or in his case, a hoodie layered with a bomber jacket and cargo pants. but it was good enough for you. he looked good in anything he wore.
“y/n isn’t home. better luck next time.” haerin came up to him, pushing minji out the way. she began to slowly close the door, only for riki to hold it open.
“seriously haerin?” hyein scoffed. “if you actually locked him out, y/n would be so pissed.” “i was kidding! everyone knows he’s untouchable here anyway. it’s obvious that if anyone even breathes in the direction of her boyfriend-”
she slapped a hand over haerin’s mouth, pulling her away from the doorway and switching places with her.
“sorry about that. y/n’s just grabbing her phone from upstairs. you wanna come in? i think- woah, did you guys plan this?” hyein paused as you walked towards her. she examined your outfit, and then riki’s. you realized, you were basically matching with the same color scheme. even the same cargos.
“hey. you look good.” he smiled as you stood next to him. you pulled him into a hug before pecking his cheek, just like yesterday.
almost as if it was a natural instinct, he wrapped an arm around your waist to secure you beside him.
riki spoke up once more to answer your roommates question. “not at all actually, i guess we kinda matched by pure coincidence. but uh, y/n, we really should get going? it’s almost like, an hour long drive.”
as soon as those words left his mouth, danielle came up to you both from the kitchen. she disregarded hyein, gesturing for her to leave.
“get y/n home by 10, no later then. don’t get caught, or be recognized.” she paused, as she pointed her gaze towards his hand which now held onto your hip. “and absolutely no dating scandals.” danielle poked her finger at his chest to emphasize the last sentence, not caring about the fact that riki towered over her.
“home before 10, don’t be spotted, and don’t cause a dating scandal. got it. thanks dani.” he smiled, before leaving your dorm to take you to his car.
“next in line please.” the cashier called out in a bored and monotone voice. but as you two approached the counter, her face lit up.
you were almost certain she recognized you or riki when she began to whisper to the barista. but she had no reaction as she asked for your order. you second guessed yourself, as the cashiers tired expression returned once more.
“ladies first. what will you have?” riki asked.
“could i order the strawberry matcha latte, and the chocolate croissant?” you spoke, watching as she took your order.
“and for you?” the cashier questioned, gesturing towards riki.
“i’ll have what she’s having.”
“two strawberry matcha lattes and two chocolate croissants. your total is ₩32,000. just insert your card here.”
he did indeed pay for the food. but, neither of you noticed how when the receipt printed, the cashier tucked it into her pocket instead of giving it to you.
“do you like the drink?” you asked riki, as he took a sip from his cup. “it’s really good. good thing we came here, i’ve never tried something so simple but, it’s delicious. you didn’t try it yet?.”
“i’ve been eating the croissant the whole time! okay, here. see?” you paused, placing down the chocolate croissant to sip the drink out of spite. you thought riki was exaggerating, but you didn’t expect it to be even better than he described.
he chuckled as he watched your face light up. “see? it really is good, isn’t it? nice choice.”
the two of you had been out for hours, even as the cafe closed. but there was nowhere else to go that was private, so riki just settled to take you home.
you were both sat in riki’s car, parked in the underground garage of the condos where you both lived. riki had his head resting on your shoulder as you scrolled through your phones, randomly showing each other random tiktoks you thought were funny.
it was a small yet intimate moment, you cherished it. you both were having so much fun, you almost forgot being an idol was part of your everyday lives. with you, riki felt free. he was able to forget the pressures of his job. and you felt the exact same way.
neither of you noticed it was already a little past 10.
“shit. riki, we have to go. it’s already 10:25.” you exclaimed, suddenly hyper-focusing on the time on your phone.
“i’ll walk you to your dorm.” he smiled.
and so you stood in front of your door, but you weren’t ready to go in. and he wasn’t ready to leave you yet.
“i had a good time.” you said, bringing your hands up to hold onto his shoulders. “we should go out again.”
“i wouldn’t mind.” riki mumbled, before bringing his face down to meet yours, connecting your lips in one quick movement.
your breath hitched when you felt him deepen the kiss, as he brought a hand up to softly stroke your cheek.
slowly, he pulled away. but not far, as he rested his forehead against yours.
you smiled at him, leaning forward to peck his lips once more.
“thank you for today.” he whispered, pulling away entirely so he could clearly see you. “goodnight riki.” you lightly chuckled, thinking back to your texts from earlier.
“goodnight y/n.”
but as he was about to leave, the front door of your dorm is pulled open. the two of you were met with the angry faces of minji, danielle, and haerin. “get inside here! and you too riki.” exclaimed minji, as she dragged you both into the living room.
as soon as you both are pushed to sit onto the couch, you scrambled to explain yourselves. “i know we’re late, but we just last track of time. dani, we-”
“it’s not about that! look at this.” she interrupted, pulling out her phone to hand it to you.
“riki, did you just choose to throw the three rules out the window? those are three things you can never ignore especially as an idol.” minji groaned, rubbing her forehead.
“okay, yes, we missed curfew. but we weren’t recognized or anything.” he said, confused.
“riki..?” you called out. your hands began to shake as you showed him what was displayed on danielle’s phone.
riki had never been so shocked.
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“you two should’ve been more careful.”
TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1
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avocadotoast0 · 3 months ago
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I'm sorry, but trying to tell Qimir's story without Osha is like telling Anakin's story without Padmé—it just doesn't work. Qimir and Osha are integral to each other's character development, whether some fans like it or not. That's just the reality of their story.
Many fans overlook the "lone wolf searching for connection" aspect of Qimir’s character, which is why Mae’s betrayal cut so deeply. He genuinely cared for her as his student, even though she wasn’t who he truly wanted as an acolyte. Despite her constant failures, he never abandoned her; he was always there, encouraging her and staying by her side. His approach as her master may have been flawed, but his care was undeniable until the moment of betrayal, making that switch in him all the more compelling to watch.
His scars from betrayal run deep, stemming from whatever happened between him and Vernestra when he was a Jedi. This further highlights how vulnerable he is as a person, adding layers to his character that make him even more intriguing.
What makes Qimir so fascinating is that he’s not a traditional Sith. He doesn’t see himself as one; he’s more of a dark-sider who believed the Sith path was his only option. We see this when Osha kills Sol—Qimir wasn’t happy; instead, he looked sorrowful, almost like he was grieving for her, understanding that she had now reached a dark place he was all too familiar with. That’s why he tried to comfort her afterward; he knew the weight of what she’d done.
This is why Leslye wanted to explore a third option—where being a dark-sider doesn’t have to mean becoming a Sith. There’s potential for something different, something more.
Then there’s his romantic side. Qimir never hid his desire for Osha; he actively pursued her without ever trying to force himself on her. He nearly dies trying to get his helmet off her—a girl he barely knew, but because she represents the connection he’s always been searching for, and he’d do anything to protect it.
In fact, Qimir falling in love could have been what saved him—or both of them—from descending further into darkness, especially with Plagueis lurking in the shadows. The show made it clear that Qimir would do anything to protect what’s precious to him. We might have seen Osha being pulled into the darkness, perhaps under Plagueis' influence, and Qimir realising that this path isn't meant for them.
It would have been incredible to watch him and Osha fall in love and try to find a different path, one that steers them away from the chaos and the doomed narrative. How could anyone not want to see that?
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highonakuweeds · 2 months ago
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Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness?
Sylus/right hand man!reader Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | ao3
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SUMMARY:
You'd been down on your luck for the past few years, scavenging for food no matter how disgusting it was. Anything to keep you alive, right?
That is until you bump into the leader of Onichynus, whose interest piqued due to the odd glow under the skin of your inner wrist, allowing you access to information within a single glance. In exchange for you to be his right hand man, his informant, you'll live under his roof.
ao3
“So, what do you say?” That low honey of a voice echoed in your mind as your jaw clenched, eyes darting around to assess the situation. Your health was as low as your wealth at that moment; you could not spare another day on the streets, else you might fall. Literally.
You glanced at the inside of your wrist, where a small spot in it, right above your pulse, glowed a soft red. Hesitantly, you looked back up at the leader of Onichynus, whose smirk never left him. “I just have to be your… your what— secretary, basically?”
He shrugged, and you envied the nonchalance present in every action he did. “If that’s what you want to call it, then by all means, kitten, yes. My secretary.”
You cringed at the nickname before deeply sighing, shoulders dropping as you lazily brought your right hand up, and the leader of Onichynus eyed your glowing wrist. “Alright then,” you finally said, smiling awkwardly as he grinned, shaking your hand firmly. “But don’t call me kitten.”
Sylus just laughed. “Okay, sweetie.”
“(Name) is just fine.”
“What about (Nickname)?”
You pondered over it, hand still gripping his. It didn’t sound that bad, and no one’s really called you that before. You nodded, shaking his hand once more. “Deal.”
----
If you think that the leader of Onichynus is a mystery, his right hand man is tenfold.
Always in the shadows yet never leaving their master’s side; that’s what others had usually taken note of. To conceal their identity, they wear a dark hood that covers half their face, only revealing a small upturn of their lips if you were truthful or worthy of their master’s attention or a slight frown if they realized you just tried to fool the leader of Onichynus. 
In fact, there would be times wherein he would visibly show care about the verdict of his right hand man. Just a simple shake of their head would send you begging and sobbing for mercy. Some had never even seen the light of day ever again.
Who this person actually was, no one knew. There were no discernable features about them except for one thing: a soft glow that despite the many layers of bandages tried to hide never actually shrouded its light on their right wrist. It would flicker and dim, yet in some cases pulse and glimmer. Was it a protocore imbued in their body? Or was it something else?
Many who lived to tell the tale of meeting the leader knew of his two henchmen, kept always close by their side, but not them. Never their right hand man.
You physically cringed and recoiled at the use of the word ‘master’ before removing your gaze at what Tara was reading from her phone. “That sounds so—”
“Cool? Intriguing?” Tara butted in, eyes gleaming at the sudden introduction to a new figure in the N109 Zone. You deadpanned, leaning down to swipe away from the app she was reading it from. She pouted at you before setting her phone down as you spoke. “No,” you countered. “Edgy.”
Tara’s shoulders slumped at your words. “It is not! This may be new information! Not many people talk about the N109 Zone, you know.” As you rolled your eyes at that statement, ready to refute her, she interrupted you before you even opened your mouth. “And besides, people are going crazy over this. See?”
She opened her phone once more to show you the comments of the post she read the excerpt from. Your lips curled in disgust as you read each one. 
“dont u think thats lowkey really hot” “wait whys that kinda…” “the hood stays on.” “how come we’ve never seen them before?” 
You snorted at the last one. At least they had common sense. “I don’t get the hype. It’s either a myth, or someone just trying to do their job.” You clasped your hands, startling Tara. “Which is what we should be doing right now! Isn’t that right, Tara? Don’t you have a bit of paperwork that you’ve been holding off on?”
She grunted, clearly stunned. “Wait, how’d you know that—”
“I’m off to do mine then! Toodle-loo!” You exclaimed, already halfway to your desk. When your face was finally out of your friend’s vision, you grimaced, a whine coming out of you. Who had the audacity to put that up on social media? You’ll have to ask Sylus to take it down later.
—--
“Okay so,” you started, tapping the inside of your right wrist, a 3D diagram of a tall building appearing. “The auction, as you know, starts in 3 hours. Many of the underground’s elite are joining, and so are some people who got introduced to events like this via the Nest. There will be new faces so I am begging you, please keep your sassiness to yourself for just one day. I know it’ll be hard, but I promise you it’ll be harder if you just have extra nuisances. Oh, and by the way—”
“(Nickname),” his voice snapped you out of your rambling. “I think I’ll be fine.”
You whipped your head at him before scoffing, shrugging as you tapped your wrist again, removing the diagram. “Suit yourself.” As you sat down on the edge of Sylus’ bed (with that, you earned a slight raise of a brow from him, whose back was leaned on the bed’s headrest), you clicked your tongue. “And just so you know, there is a theme to this, so I’d rather you go with cool colors instead of your normal red—”
“Thank you, my right hand man, but I’m afraid I’m sticking with red,” your boss plainly interrupted, irking you. What irritated you even more was the use of your title. You hated being called Sylus’ “right hand man” despite it being true. 
You pursed your lips, nodding stiffly. “Right, about that whole ‘right hand man’ thing, there’s this post that’s been blowing up on social media about me, and it’s making me sound way worse than I am. Could you have it taken down?”
Sylus smirked, tilting his head ever so slightly before picking his phone up from the nightstand. After a quick while, he lazily showed you the exact post. “Is it this one?”
A sigh of relief escaped you as you nodded, lips curled up. That is until you realized he was the one that posted it in the first place. Your shoulders slumped as you quickly attacked him, trying to grab the phone from him as he reached it up. 
You heard a small grunt coming out of him when his back harshly hit the headboard, but you couldn’t care less. “Take it down!” You exclaimed, kneeling on his thighs to reach higher. Sylus swiftly brought it down, however, grinning when he saw the annoyance drawn all over your face. “And why should I? It gives you good face.”
“But it paints the wrong picture of me!” You whined, stooping down to grab his wrist. A shine of victory sparkled on your face when you did, but he only raised his brows, merely allowing you to do so. He’s going easy on you. “There are people thirsting over me!” 
At that, Sylus barked out laughter, ripping his wrist away from your grip. “There are? I haven’t checked the comments yet.” 
Suddenly, a wash of horror swept through you, and your efforts to catch the phone doubled. “Wait no, don’t—”
“‘Is this what the dark romance girlies were looking for?’” He read out, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face. He switched his phone to the other hand as you tried to grab it, but to no avail. “‘Why have the leader when you can have the right hand man?’ Okay, ouch.” Sylus sarcastically remarked, and you winced at the comments. “Enough, Sylus!”
“You should be flattered, (Nickname),” he said, causing you to stop in your antics. “It’s annoying. Now, take it down—”
You yelped the moment you felt his free hand on your chest, flipping your positions with ease. Jaw clenched, you glared at him, trying to pry off his hand. “How about this?” Sylus negotiated. “I’ll take the post down,” with that, you exhaled, a weight suddenly lifted from your shoulders. “If you go to the auction with me tonight.”
…what.
You scoffed as you stared at him, brows scrunching up. “I’ve never been to an auction with you before.”
“You have—”
“Not in person! I was always just a little crow pin on your coat.” You argued, sitting up on Sylus’ bed as he got off on top of you, rolling his eyes at your words. “What’s the difference?”
You blinked at him, scoffing incredulously. “‘What’s the difference?’ What’s the difference? The difference is that I actually have to talk to the damn people! And they’re gonna go all crazy because, ‘ooh, the leader of Onichynus has a new woman on his arm’!” 
He chuckled at your imagination and anxieties, standing up to go fix himself. “Alright then, the post stays up—”
“Wait!” You stopped, a hand out. Sylus looked at you expectantly, as if he already knew what your answer would be. You felt your eye twitch at his expression, and he just “innocently” smiled at it, though there was barely anything innocent about him. You sighed, posture slouching in defeat. “Fine. I’ll go with you,” you mumbled.
A smile of victory that was supposed to be on your face appeared on your boss’. “Perfect. The dress is already in your closet.”
Your face slowly contorted as you processed his words. ‘The dress’? Just as he was about to enter his bathroom to freshen up, you straightened your back on his bed. “What dress? Were you anticipating this?”
No response came from him except for low laughter, mocking you as you grumbled your way out of his room. 
Your boss is going to be the death of you, you swear.
—--
As you walked the long hallway and took a sharp turn to your right to go to your room, you took a deep breath. This is going to be your first time actually showing yourself in public without any disguise, without any cover, ever since you decided to work under Sylus a couple years ago. Sure you knew a bit of social etiquette in terms of formal settings and such, but those were all from books; you never inclined yourself to actually join Sylus in any of them. From what you’ve heard from him, they were usually boring, where the filthy rich conversed whilst participating in illegal activities. And though the filthy rich part caught your attention, the “boring” did not. Nor did the illegal activities. You didn’t give a rat’s ass about what Sylus or people like him did behind the law’s back, but you were still technically a hunter. If word spreads that someone from Linkon City’s handful of heroes is engaging in sketchy weapon trading, then you would be utterly screwed.
You opened the door to your room with a sigh, though whether it was one of relaxation at the sight of your luxurious suite-like room, or one of frustration at how Sylus practically forced you to join him, you weren’t quite sure. Nevertheless, you bee-lined straight towards your walk-in closet, an addition Sylus willingly placed in your contract a week or so after when he realized just how material-oriented you were. 
Ah, right, Sylus loved spoiling you.
You could prove that fact by glancing at your wardrobe. It was certainly way bigger than the room you lived in (stolen) before working as Sylus’ right hand man. Lit up with warm pin lights outlining the perimeter on the top and on the bottom, clothes and jewelry alike made the room look like Heaven. And you would constantly ask yourself if this was Heaven, indeed. To your left were the fancier types of clothing, perfectly tailored to fit your measurements, and to the right were the clothes you would wear for day-to-day (designer, of course. Wouldn’t want Sylus’ money to go to waste). In the middle was a glass island with jewelry that cost more than a fortune, and probably more than your life. It gleamed horribly bright due to the mix of metals and gems. Diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, you could probably name it all. Though you preferred some over others, a little bit of everything didn’t hurt anyone, right? Certainly not Sylus’ wallet.
You would’ve felt bad for buying more than half of what you have in your closet using Sylus’ money, but his closet cost more than yours ever could. And every time you’d borrow his sweet little black card to go shopping, he never said a word, just a single turn of his lips of approval as you skipped your way towards the most expensive shops you knew. And a good chunk of your belongings were gifts from him, too —”as a token of gratitude”, he’d always say (you never believed him)— so you knew that he didn’t care.
Whether you liked the idea of it or not, you had agreed to become his right hand woman —his secretary, even— so you couldn’t really complain when people called you that (despite not knowing who you really are). Plus, the job came with benefits, so might as well suck it up. 
One thing caught your eye, though, and that was a box on top of a cushioned chair in the corner of the closet. It was beige with a silver ribbon tied on the top, a deep contrast to the darker palette of your room. Stealthily, you walked towards it, brow raised, before your entire body relaxed when you noticed the familiar handwriting on a simple yet sophisticated card on top of it. Only thing written on it was, “wear this.”
You pursed your lips as you rolled your eyes, opening the box without any hesitation. And to say you were impressed at Sylus’ ability to constantly not follow rules he didn’t want to follow would be an understatement.
You scoffed as you brought the beautiful dress out of its cage. This edgelord decided to gift you with a wondrous deep red silk dress, its sweetheart neckline low enough to entice but not low enough to seduce. It accommodated for its lack of fabric in the higher chest area with puffy sleeves that you assumed were off the shoulder, catching the warm light in smooth lines. You brought it out fully, placing it against yourself and relishing at how it looked in the full-length mirror. Bottom-wise, it covered just about everything except for a rather daring slit that ended somewhere around your high thigh. Who did he think you were, a stripper? 
…Well if the money called for it—
You shook your head, carefully draping the dress on the matching chair on the other corner to freshen yourself up. You couldn’t wait to try it on. 
—--
You let out an exhale when the last curl fell from the iron, the heat kissing your bare skin. You hissed at it but solved the problem by brushing it away from your neck. Your eyes trailed towards the faint glow on your right wrist, then the golden jewelry on your vanity table, then at yourself. Hesitance was written all over your features, eyes not leaving yours in the mirror as you place a rather glimmery bracelet on to cover your wrist. You always thought the shinier something is, the more the glow would dim. Would camouflage. 
What snapped you out of your thoughts were a familiar pair of hands gently grabbing the dainty necklace right in front of you, and clasping it around your neck. Your gaze left your own to lock with his, though his eyes were focused more on your hair (or neck?) than on you. 
It wasn’t long after that that he looked back at you with an amused turn of lips. “Are you ready?” His voice reverberated in your head, as it had been a good hour or two without the presence of one, the only thing your ears had been hearing up until his entrance being simple jazz instrumentals from your bedroom.
You glanced at your feet, which were currently bare, before shaking your head. “Give me a minute—”
But before you could even do anything, Sylus knelt down, picking up one red-bottomed stiletto from the pair and slipping it on your foot with ease. To a normal person, that would’ve certainly given them a scary amount of butterflies, having a man on his knees, practically serving you by being the one to put on your shoes for you. However, your boss had done this multiple times in the past. So many times that you’d grown accustomed to it. 
“These heels aren’t that bad, (Nickname), why don’t you use them more often?” He commented, placing the other one on your other foot. You snorted, an opposition to your current elegant figure. “I barely go out. What, you want me to wear these when I’m hunting wanderers or just in the house?”
Sylus shrugged, standing up. He placed a hand on his hip as you stood up as well. Despite you wearing a good couple inches worth of heels, he towered over you somehow. “Why not?”
You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Let’s just go.” 
—--
The moment Sylus stepped into the room, everyone’s eyes were on him. Or rather the pretty little thing linked on his arm.
Sylus’ expression remained that of indifference as he practically pranced around, and most people would assume he was showing you off. You’ve known him for long enough, though; you knew he wasn’t trying to. In fact, you assumed it was probably your stance.
Chin held up high, eyes sharply scanning the area through lazily held up eyelids, chest puffed out, shoulders pulled back, and stride confidently pompous. You were a new figure. Sure, your attitude was something the people inside of the building had seen one too many times; your position, however, was not. 
Who was this new woman beside Sylus, the leader of Onichynus? And why has she just popped up now, out of the blue? 
After a couple beats of silence, whispers erupted all around the two now most important figures of the event. And with that, a small smile ghosted on your lips. One that Sylus noticed.
“Enjoying the attention, I see,” he whispered, quiet enough for only you to hear. “Have I not been giving you enough?”
“Careful there,” you responded through a forced smile, eye twitching. “People might hear you acting like something comparable to a partner. Then I’d have a whole nother problem to deal with”
Sylus just laughed at your statement, unlinking your arms. You glanced at him, confusion clear in your expression. He leaned down, almost as if he was bowing, and you thought that that was exactly what he was about to do… until you noticed a very familiar card slotted between his pointer and middle finger.
Your eyes visibly gleamed at the sight as you gasped. “Really?”
He just shrugged, lips almost forming a pout as he straightened his posture. “Of course, if you don’t want it—”
“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Sylus?” You excitedly said, snatching the black card with the same amount of enthusiasm. He watched you memorize the numbers engraved on it (though he knew you had it burned in your retinas) with a chuckle. “Now, who sounds like a partner between the two of us?”
“Shut up,” you grumbled before changing your entire demeanor. Frankly, it was times like this that slightly intimidated Sylus, how money and wealth could easily change your mood. “I mean, thank you so much! I’ll see you in 30?”
He just nodded, amusement clear on his features. “You’ll see me in 30.”
And with that, you grinned, practically jumping in delight before bee-lining towards a protocore which glowed a beautiful pink, near nude, color. You were drawn to it from the very beginning, but didn’t want Sylus to see just how much you wanted it.
You glanced at the glow of your wrist, which was covered up by black lace gloves to avoid suspicion. It flickered softly underneath its cage, so quickly that the pulses between each flicker of light seemingly disappeared. You braced yourself, crossing your arms tightly to ground you to reality. Whenever you’d find a protocore this powerful, its memories, the things it sees, reels you in so hard, you would faint. Sylus had never seen that part of you before, though your first encounter with him was close. 
Well, it happened multiple times after that, too; you weren’t quite sure why. But after a while, it was habitual for you to feel a bit nauseous around Sylus until you would no longer feel it at all. 
This protocore’s pull was faint compared to that, but it made you falter in your footing nevertheless. You shook your head, taking a deep breath before calling one of the servers nearby. “15 million for this.”
His brows furrowed deeply. “But ma’am, this is only worth 100,000—”
“Then your pricing is foolish and incompetent. When I say something is worth 15 million, then I will buy it for 15 million. Do not doubt my decisions.”
The server froze in his place, and you could’ve sworn you saw the hair on his skin stand upright at your cold words. It almost put a smile on your otherwise apathetic face.
He bowed immediately, quickly following your orders. “Yes, ma’am.”
You nodded your head mindlessly, already striding to another pull. Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder, cold and… nonhuman. A wanderer maybe? No, this felt different. You felt your body stop in its place, your chest heaving as you tried to gasp for breath. Wait, calm down. You could check what this was with your wrist. But wait, how come nothing was popping up? You— You needed to kill the thing behind you; you needed to—
“Are you okay, miss?” A smooth voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your head at it. You glanced at the man’s hand, which was clearly pulled back. Almost genuine concern covered his entire face, his eyes shining with care. 
You were quiet for a couple seconds before responding. “I-I’m alright, thank you.”
The man gestured one hand out, palm facing up, as if waiting for you. Reluctantly, you gave your left hand, and he slowly brought it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles. With your hand still quite close to his face, he stared at the intricate lace design of your gloves, and you felt your stomach flip. “I apologize; I did not mean to startle you. My name is Aries. I’m new here.” He admitted, his voice low enough to send your heart racing. 
You’ve never felt like this before. And it wasn’t romance you were feeling; it was something much more… forced. You held your guard up high, allowing him to treat you like this for longer. He might be a danger. 
So instead, you smiled, eyes locking with his as he stood up properly. “(Name). A pleasure to meet you, Aries. So, what brings you to a place like this?”
Aries sheepishly laughed, clearly nervous about the entire situation. You knew he fancied you, especially with the way his face was beet red. “Ah, my— my uncle encouraged me to go with him, even if I didn’t want to.”
You gasped, eyes lighting up when you finally realized that there was someone just like you here. “Me too!”
He tilted his head, brows scrunching together. “...Your… uncle dragged you here?”
A small stifle of laughter bubbled in your throat before you grinned, shaking your head. “Not my uncle. Just… a friend.”
Sylus’ eyes never left you as you strutted around the auction, most especially when he noticed you conversing with a man he had never seen before. He opened his mouth to ask you a question about him, a bit of basic information perhaps, but he immediately caught his mistake. Right. He was so used to having you by his side that he’d completely forgotten.
“I see you’re eyeing my nephew, Aries.” A man, at least a decade or two older than Sylus, approached him, his voice irritating the leader of Onichynus on the spot. He barely glanced at the shorter male, trying to figure out his name. He usually had you whisper it to him. Ugh, what was his name again? It was French for something… Chaton? Chateau? No, he just called this guy ‘castle’. It was a C- something… 
Ah, Ciel.
“Ciel,” Sylus said, boredness crystal clear in his voice. The older man laughed —a forced “rich” one, at that— before responding. “Ah, and here I thought you forgot my name. Yes, I—”
“What do you want?” Ciel flinched at the bluntness of Sylus’ tone, but answered him nevertheless. “So, what’s the deal? Who’s that pretty little minx you brought today? I’ve never seen you bring a plus one to these events before.”
Sylus’ face scrunched up slightly at Ciel’s words in disgust, but his eyes never left the conversing pair. “And why should I tell you?”
Ciel elbowed Sylus as if they were buddies, making the taller man grunt in distaste. “Oh come on, mate! Though she was so cold to everyone when she entered, she seems too bubbly to have been in the N109 Zone for a long while. Where’d you get her from, hmm?” Sylus’ brows raised slightly when Aries accidentally dropped a pen he somehow had (why the hell did he have a pen at an auction?) and you stopped him from getting it, bending down to pick it up. Your front was right in front of Sylus, which in turn meant right in front of Ciel. 
He whistled, grinning at the view you just accidentally gave him. “Now I see why you keep her around. Come on, Sy, mind letting a dear old friend borrow her for the night—”
“I’ve given you many chances to back off, mate. Too many as it seems.” Sylus’ grip on Ciel’s shoulder surprised him, and with how he winced and let out a small whimper of pain, it seemed as if Sylus was slowly getting angrier each second. “I’m being generous today, since it’s not ideal for me to get scolded as of the moment. But if you ever lay a finger on her in the future, I will make sure you never see the light of day. If she doesn’t beat me to it, that is. Understood?”
He could feel the atmosphere around them chill with Ciel’s fear as he nodded vigorously. “Y-Yes, Sy—
“Try again.”
“Yes, sir.”
—--
You sucked in a breath as you watched Ciel and Sylus converse. The moment you noticed your boss’ eyes on you, they flickered away, towards his holster. When he glanced at you again, you shook your head slowly, and you almost cracked a grin when he huffed. It was barely noticeable, but you knew that look anywhere.
Aries seemed to be looking at them, too. “Yeesh,” he grimaced. “They are not getting along.”
Your head turned to the man you had just met, and your brows scrunched in confusion. “Who?”
“Oh,” Aries nervously grinned, clearly embarrassed and ashamed. Ah, you knew already. “The one on the left, h-he’s my uncle.”
Ciel has a nephew? How come I never knew that? You faked surprise, mouth turning into an “o”. “Oh, that makes more sense. In that case, I think I’ve heard about your uncle before. He does trade in… firearms, correct?” You didn’t want to disclose your relation with Sylus yet; it might backfire on you in the long run.
Aries’ eyes lit up at the mention of “firearms”. “Yes! His newest model was actually one of his best works if I do say so myself. Though I might be a bit biased if I say that because I made the blueprint—” He cut himself off, hand to his mouth. “I was rambling, wasn’t I?”
You giggled at his reaction before shaking your head, playfully hitting his arm. “No, it’s fine! So you work with Ciel, then?”
“How do you know his name is Ciel?”
“I know some figures. And your uncle’s pretty famous here.” You saved, internally cursing yourself at the slip up. You glanced at Aries to see if he believed you, and with that smile on his face it seemed as if he did. Thank God.
—--
Sylus could feel his jaw tightening when he saw you practically flirting with that man. He knew how you were towards wealthy people; hell, you were like that to him a week or two after your deal with him. You were hitting that man’s arm playfully for his money. Totally.
But Sylus could give you whatever that man could possibly offer tenfold.
Wait, why did he care again? Right, he didn’t.
With Ciel finally gone, grumbling to himself as he left, Sylus was able to scan what exactly the auction was putting up for sale. Huh, just some gaudy protocores. It seems as if they finally ran out of things to sell.
His eyes went back at you, and his brows raised up in slight curiosity when you eye a protocore. Sylus watched as you walked towards it, and almost staggered on your footing. With furrowed brows, he walked towards you. Whether it was from concern or something else, he wasn’t quite sure. 
“7 million. Wrap it up.” You demanded, exuding an air of sophistication. The air around you was cold, but that was one of the things Sylus liked about you. “Just 7 million? Do you really want people thinking I’m broke around here?”
You tilted your head slightly, though your eyes never left the protocore. After a while, you shook your head. “And do you really want people thinking you don’t know how to strategize your finances? It’s only worth 7 million at max.”
He just shrugged at you. “Alright, then.”
Once you had the two protocores you needed, you took a deep breath. The tug you felt between the two was too much, and you could not extract information from them now. Plus with how weak you were beginning to feel because of having to keep up socially and physically, Sylus’ pull was getting worse by the second.
“What, tired from spending all my money?” Sylus teased, though even with his words, you could feel the soft heat radiating from his palm on the small of your back, aiding you to the car. You laughed humorlessly, not having any more energy after everything that happened today. “This isn’t even a dent in your wallet. And besides, we’ve been here for a couple hours; my social battery is dead.”
Sylus’ chuckle filled your entire brain, and it may be your exhaustion, but it left your cheeks flushed either way. “Speaking of your social life, who was that… man you were talking to?”
Oh, that left you intrigued. You smirked as he opened the door of the car for you, and you raised a brow. “Why, you jealous?” He scoffed as you sat down, and he closed the door, taking his sweet, sweet time to get to the driver’s seat. “What makes you think I’m jealous?” 
You pursed your lips as your boss started the car, tilting your head. “Maybe the fact that you asked?”
He just rolled his eyes at that, lazily removing one hand from the wheel and resting it on your seat to reverse the car. Sylus looked back, giving you a wonderful shot of his side profile. “Well,” oh dear, his voice was close to your ear. Nonchalantly, you turned to look at him. “For your information, I asked because he’s new— I’m going to assume. I hadn’t seen his face until today.”
You huffed, feeling your cheeks flush at his reversing. That’s such a weird thing to get flustered about, you thought to yourself. “Fine, then. His name is Aries, and… I don’t know anything about him.”
At your words, Sylus’ brows knit together in slight confusion and alarm in his face. “What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’? Use your wrist.”
You rolled your eyes at his words, crossing your arms and your legs as he began to drive. “I tried, but I couldn’t. For some reason, there wasn’t any dirt I could pick up on him. Only info I know is because he told me, like how Ciel is his uncle.”
“I knew that.”
“I saw you two speaking. Had a lovely chat?”
He merely grunted as a way of saying, ‘no, what the fuck are you talking about?’ And at that, you giggled. You kept your eyes on the road, though you slowly felt your lids drooping. “Anyway, he seems… intriguing. He works with Ciel in firearms sometimes. Plus, he asked me out.”
… “He asked you out? Where? When?”
“Oh, now you really sound jealous.” You grinned, leaning onto the seat belt so that you could use it as a cradle for your cheek. “I’m not telling you; you’re going to get Mephisto to follow us. He’s cute; I’ll give him a chance. Now,” you over-exaggerated your yawn, stretching slightly in your seat. “If you don’t mind, though I don’t really care if you do, I will sleep. Very tired. Good night.”
Sylus stayed silent for a moment, and just when he was about to respond to you, you were fast asleep the moment he turned to look at you. He shouldn’t be jealous. Er, was this jealousy? Maybe it was overprotection; Sylus was never keen about sharing what was his. And technically, given how you were his right hand woman, you were his. But then again, you going out with someone shouldn’t be his business, especially if said someone could be a valuable asset to Onichynus. But it didn’t make that uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach settle.
—--
“She’s cute, isn’t she?”
“Uh, yeah, she is. Are- are you sure I have to do this? She seems like a nice gal.”
“Shush! If we strike a deal with Onichynus, the collaboration would give us so many benefits, my boy! And wouldn’t you like to have a pretty little something by your side at the same time?”
“...I don’t know; I thought she and the leader were—”
“She and the leader are nothing. She’s probably just some whore he took pity on. Now, don’t ever doubt this plan again, okay?”
“...”
“Aries.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
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gwens-love · 11 days ago
Text
A Touch of Fate
Summary: In a quiet village, you’ve always felt the phantom touches of a soulmate a bond that usually belongs only to witches. One autumn evening, a chance encounter with a mysterious figure changes everything.
Warnings: Emotional Themes
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: a bit shorter but oh well.
~Agatha Harkness x fem!reader~
Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks.
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Growing up in a quiet village, you often heard tales about soulmates, an unbreakable bond that connected two people in ways mere mortals could only dream of. Only witches had such connections, though. To everyone else, they were just old fables passed around for entertainment. You were ordinary, with no magic or power. Yet, ever since you were young, you’d felt soft, phantom touches on your skin a brush along your cheek, a warmth on your hand. The sensations were fleeting but left a strange longing in their wake.
As you grew older, you chalked it up to imagination, but those touches never stopped. They became a part of you, leaving you with an inexplicable feeling that somewhere out there, someone was reaching out to you. Still, you’d accepted you might never understand why.
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One crisp autumn evening, restlessness pulled you to the edge of the village, where a little river wound its way through the landscape. The air was cool, and the gentle sound of the water flowing over stones accompanied you as you wandered along the riverbank, following a quiet feeling that fluttered in your chest.
You knelt beside the water, running your fingers through the cool current, when suddenly that familiar warmth enveloped your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked down, startled, as the sensation grew more pronounced, as if someone were brushing their fingers against your skin.
Then, out of the shadows, she appeared.
Dressed in layers of dark purple, flowing fabric that moved like shadows among the trees, a figure stepped forward, her brown hair cascading around her shoulders, shimmering in the fading light. Her presence was magnetic; there was an undeniable allure about her that pulled you in. She held herself with an elegance that spoke of wisdom and experience, but her eyes deep and playful were filled with a youthful spark.
“Well, well,” she said, a playful smile spreading across her face. “What do we have here? A lost soul wandering these woods?” Her voice was rich and melodic, laced with both humor and a hint of something deeper, something inviting.
You felt your heart race as you met her gaze. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else out here,” you replied, trying to mask your surprise at how drawn you felt towards her.
“Neither did I, darling,” she said, stepping closer. “The names Agatha Harkness dear, lovely to meet you.” Her voice softened, carrying a warmth that soothed the chill in the air. “Something told me I’d find someone special tonight, and I feel like I did.”
As you stood there, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this woman was different almost otherworldly. The way she moved, the elegance of her presence, sparked a mix of curiosity and intrigue within you.
“There’s something about you,” you said, glancing up at her. “You feel… ancient, like you belong to a different time.”
A soft smile played on her lips. “Ah, darling, there’s a reason for that. I’m a witch.”
The revelation hit you like a jolt of electricity. “A witch? But I thought those were just stories.”
“Most people think so,” she replied, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “But magic is real, and so are soulmates.” She said with a little smirk
“Wait, soulmates?” You felt your heart race, the words igniting a spark of hope and disbelief. “Why are you telling me this? Are you saying that we are soulmates?”
Agatha’s gaze softened, filled with warmth. “Yes, my dear. The moment I saw you, I felt it a connection. The universe chose us.”
You struggled to process her words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. “But I’m not a witch. How could I have a soulmate?”
The woman’s smile widened, her expression playful yet sincere. “Oh, sweetheart, magic often defies the rules we set for it,” she said, her tone rich with affection. “Sometimes it chooses those who need it most, even when they don’t fit the mold.”
“But I’m just a regular person,” you protested, shaking your head. “I’ve always thought that soulmates were for witches. It can’t be true.”
The woman’s gaze softened, a flicker of understanding passing between you. “You may not wield magic in the traditional sense, but there’s a power in your heart that is undeniable,” she said gently. “Feelings are magic too, my dear. Your ability to love and to connect is a strength that many overlook.”
The air between you felt electric, the world around you fading as you stood before her. She took another step closer, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Let me show you that your heart is just as powerful as any spell.”
As you opened your mouth to respond, a sudden rustling in the bushes nearby startled both of you. The momentary tension shifted your focus. “What was that?” you asked, glancing toward the sound.
Her demeanor changed slightly; the playful sparkle in her eyes transformed into something more serious. “Stay close to me,” she instructed, her voice firm. You felt the warmth of her presence, grounding you even as a sense of unease crept in.
The rustling grew louder, and you exchanged anxious glances. Then, emerging from the thicket, a creature scurried into the moonlight an ordinary rabbit, its nose twitching in curiosity. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and she chuckled softly, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had come.
“See? Just a harmless little thing,” she said, her laughter soothing your frayed nerves. “But it does remind me that the world can be unpredictable.”
You nodded, feeling the warmth return to the air around you as she stepped closer again. “What were we talking about?” she asked, tilting her head, her curiosity piqued once more.
“About how I’m not a witch and how it isn’t possible for me to have a soulmate,” you replied, the weight of your earlier denial still hanging between you.
Her head tilted slightly, her expression thoughtful. “The universe has a funny way of bringing people together,” she said. “You may not see it yet, but this bond is a gift, and it exists for a reason. Perhaps it’s to show you that magic is not limited to spells and potions but is found in connection and love.”
Her words resonated deeply within you, stirring something long dormant. “I want to believe that,” you said, looking into her eyes, where warmth and understanding glimmered. “But it feels too good to be true.”
“Ah, darling, sometimes the most beautiful things do feel that way,” she replied, her voice low and reassuring. “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t real. Sometimes we have to allow ourselves to embrace the extraordinary.”
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The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the forest clearing. The air was thick with tension as you and Agatha stood facing each other, the world around you fading into a hushed silence.
“I still can’t believe this is real,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “That you’re my soulmate.”
Agatha smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sometimes the universe has a funny way of surprising us, doesn’t it?”
“It feels like a dream,” you admitted, taking a small step closer. “A beautiful dream I never want to wake up from.”
She held your gaze, her expression shifting to something deeper. “Then let’s make it a reality.”
Your heart raced as the space between you narrowed. “Agatha, I”
“Shh,” she interrupted, her finger brushing gently against your lips. “No more words. Just feelings.”
You nodded, breathless. The intensity of her gaze held you captive, and you could feel the warmth radiating between you, drawing you closer.
“Can I?” she whispered, her voice low and inviting.
“Yes,” you breathed, every part of you yearning for the connection.
With that, she leaned in, capturing your lips with hers. The kiss was soft at first, exploring, tasting then it deepened, a rush of warmth and energy enveloping you both. Her hands cradled your face, and you melted into her embrace, losing yourself in the moment.
Time seemed to suspend as the kiss lingered, filled with unspoken promises and the magic of newfound love. When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, Agatha’s eyes were filled with delight.
“Now that,” she said with a teasing smile, “is magic.”
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Fin <3
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51voices · 5 days ago
Text
Three's a Thrill
Kinkvember Day 6: Threesome
Dreamcatcher Kim Yoohyeon x Kim JiU (Minji) x Female reader/OC
(Reader has some body modification for plot purposes)
AN: A little late on this one, classes have been kicking my butt.
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“I bet they’re a writer or something,” JiU mused, eyes narrowing playfully.
“Or maybe a chef,” you countered with a grin. “Someone who’ll invite us over for tastings.”
JiU laughed, the sound light and familiar. “Oh wow, could you imagine? Think of all the food we’d get to try.”
With that, you both made your way up the path to the new neighbor’s house, footsteps echoing lightly against the quiet surroundings. The house next door had been empty for months, and the curiosity had been building between you two. JiU’s excitement was clear as she climbed the front steps, flashing her trademark smile. With a firm knock, she announced your arrival.
The door swung open to reveal a young woman with shoulder-length hair, dark eyes and a welcoming smile that instantly put you at ease.
“Hello! A fresh face in the neighborhood. Welcome” JiU greeted warmly, extending her hand.
The woman’s eyes sparkled as she shook JiU’s hand. “Hi, I'm Yoohyeon. It’s so nice to meet you both—I’ve been hoping to connect with my neighbors.”
JiU stepped back slightly, gesturing toward you. “I’m Kim Minji, but you can call me JiU, and this is my lovely wife.” Her smile softened as she brushed her hand over your shoulder in an affectionate, natural gesture that made your bond clear. Feeling a bit shy but warmed by the gesture, you extended a hand to greet Yoohyeon.
Yoohyeon’s eyes flickered with surprise before softening. In the conservative country they lived in, it was rare for same sex couples to introduce themselves so openly. She admired the quiet confidence you both shared, comforted by how natural your expressions of love felt. Smiling back, she felt an unexpected sense of kinship.
“It’s really nice to meet you both,” Yoohyeon said sincerely, excitement lacing her tone. “I just moved in and am still finding my way around, but it already feels more like home knowing I have such friendly neighbors.”
JiU chuckled and glanced at you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, we’ve definitely been in your shoes. The first week we moved here, I couldn’t even remember which bus line went where,” she laughed. “So, how’s settling in going?”
Yoohyeon looked around her cozy entryway, decorated in a warm, minimalist style. “It’s been… a bit of a whirlwind, honestly. I’m actually an English teacher, so between commuting, learning where everything is, and getting the house in order, I’m still finding my rhythm.”
“Oh, an English teacher! That’s wonderful,” you said warmly, your interest clear in your voice. “Moving can feel overwhelming at first, but if you need anything—a ride, directions, or even a café recommendation—we’re just next door.”
“Thank you so much! That’s really kind of you,” Yoohyeon replied, visibly relieved. “I’d love to know more about the neighborhood. Any local gems?”
“Oh, plenty!” JiU’s smile widened. “There’s an amazing bakery just around the corner. Their strawberry mochi is to die for, they always sell out early. And there’s also a café a few blocks down called Insomnia Café that makes the best iced caramel lattes in town.”
“Those sound incredible; I can’t wait to try them out,” Yoohyeon said, mentally noting the recommendations. Then, with a curious look, she asked, “And you two? What do you do for work?”
JiU exchanged an amused look with you, a hint of mystery in her eyes. “Oh, we mostly work from home,” she said with a slight, knowing smile that felt almost deliberate.
You added with a playful glimmer, “It gives us a lot of freedom to travel and enjoy life—a definite perk,” leaving Yoohyeon to wonder if there was more to your work than met the eye.
“That sounds amazing,” Yoohyeon replied, intrigued but not wanting to press. She sensed a layer of mystery between you two, but also a warmth—a quiet, unspoken connection that drew her in, as though she’d found friends as unique as they were welcoming.
The conversation continued, covering everything from the best local grocery stores to the quirks of the nearby subway lines. JiU’s stories were punctuated with laughter, and though you were quieter, you leaned in occasionally with thoughtful comments and small, knowing glances that spoke volumes. The closeness between you two was undeniable—a shared understanding that filled the air with ease.
After a while, JiU glanced at you and gave a slight nod. “Well, we’ll leave you to get settled,” she said warmly. “We just wanted to stop by to say hello and welcome you. Don’t hesitate to come by if you need anything or just want to chat.”
As you and JiU turned to leave, Yoohyeon found herself smiling, a flutter of excitement settling in her chest. Watching you both walk away, she couldn’t shake the thrill of having such warm, intriguing people right next door. She felt a spark—maybe this move would bring more than she’d initially expected.
-----
One late evening, Yoohyeon stood by her bedroom window, drawn to the quiet charm of the night. The neighborhood lay still, each house settled into its evening calm, with only the occasional faint glow of a light here or there. She often enjoyed these solitary moments, gazing out at the world beyond her window and letting her mind wander.
Tonight, her gaze drifted almost involuntarily toward JiU and your home, the upstairs bedroom window just visible from where she stood. Yoohyeon’s eyes narrowed as she noticed movement in the soft, dim light seeping through the curtains. Curiosity got the best of her, and she couldn’t help but look closer. She could make out the silhouettes of JiU and you, laughing together, leaning against the wall, faces flushed as you playfully nudged each other.
As her eyes adjusted to the faint light, the details became clearer: JiU, with her tousled hair falling loose, dressed in a simple sports bra and shorts, while you wore a fitted tank top and briefs. A light sheen on your skin hinted that you’d both been dancing or wrestling playfully. The sight was so candid, so deeply intimate, that Yoohyeon felt like an unintentional intruder. She should have looked away, yet something about the relaxed, unguarded way you shared this private moment kept her eyes fixed.
JiU’s arm slipped around your waist, faces close enough to be nearly nose-to-nose, both of you laughing softly, as though sharing a secret. There was something mesmerizing about the ease between you two, a mutual warmth that Yoohyeon could almost feel across the distance. A blush crept up her cheeks, her heartbeat quickening in response to the scene unfolding before her.
Realizing her gaze had lingered too long, Yoohyeon tore her eyes away, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and something else—a faint stirring in her core that surprised her. She had known JiU and you as the friendly, slightly mysterious couple next door, but tonight, witnessing this side of you stirred something unfamiliar, something undeniably thrilling within her.
She took a deep breath and sank onto her bed, willing herself to forget what she had just seen. Determined to shake the image from her mind, she picked up her phone and scrolled through social media, hoping to distract herself with harmless videos and updates. But her mind kept wandering back to the way you’d looked at each other, the comfortable closeness, and the undeniable spark between you.
Frustrated, Yoohyeon switched apps, almost without realizing it, and found herself on an adult site. She felt a bit silly, yet the warmth that had built inside her urged her to seek some release. As she scrolled through thumbnails, nothing seemed to capture the raw, genuine intimacy she’d just witnessed between you and JiU. Every other video felt strangely hollow by comparison.
Just as she was about to put her phone away, a particular thumbnail caught her eye. The resemblance to you and JiU was uncanny—the same dark hair, the same air of easy intimacy she’d glimpsed from her window. A forbidden thrill stirred within her as she hesitated, her thumb hovering over the screen before she tapped “play,” her heart racing as the video loaded.
Through her headphones, JiU’s voice murmured gently, as if meant just for her. “Are you ready?” she asked, her tone full of warmth and teasing care. Yoohyeon’s heart fluttered as the image on-screen filled her mind.
Then, as her gaze drifted over your figure on the screen, her heart suddenly skipped a beat. A flash of metal caught her eye—a nipple piercing, gleaming softly against your skin. Yoohyeon’s pulse raced. She’d had no idea you had such a bold, hidden side. There had never been a hint of body art or piercings in your everyday appearance, and this quiet, thrilling detail felt like a secret unveiled.
Her breath caught, surprise mingling with fascination. Body modifications had always intrigued her, and this little discovery seemed to reveal something new about you—a quiet strength, a hidden edge, something both beautiful and daring.
Yoohyeon’s pulse quickened, her body tingling with anticipation as her hand slipped between her legs, moving in sync with JiU’s careful touch on the screen. JiU’s hands traced slow, tantalizing circles over your skin, each movement deliberate and unhurried. The rhythm was mesmerizing, almost hypnotic, and Yoohyeon found herself mirroring the pace, her breaths shallow as she matched JiU’s gentle, precise touches.
Her senses drifted, pulled deeper into the intimacy unfolding before her. JiU’s sultry voice seemed to reach through the screen, drawing Yoohyeon closer. Each whispered word and soft caress felt like an invitation, coaxing her further into your shared world. As the camera lingered on your face, lips parted with a soft, breathless sigh, Yoohyeon felt herself lost in the vulnerability of the moment, each delicate sound heightening her own arousal.
Her gaze flickered between you and JiU, her fingers moving faster as the tension within her grew. The way your body responded—the subtle tremble, eyes fluttering shut as JiU held you on the edge—felt almost sacred, an intimacy that sent shivers through her. Yoohyeon bit her lip, her breaths quickening as her release approached, caught up in the magnetic pull of your connection.
Finally, as JiU brought you to climax, Yoohyeon heard her gentle voice again, murmuring, “Are you close, baby?… Yes, you can cum. Cum for me, my sweetie.” Yoohyeon’s body surged with her own release, her fingers pressing down as a stifled moan escaped her lips, waves of pleasure flooding over her. She lay there for a moment, head spinning, still basking in the lingering warmth. It felt surreal, as if she’d shared in something intimate with you—an unexpected closeness that stayed with her, even after the video faded to black.
In the days that followed, Yoohyeon found herself drawn back to JiU and your videos, watching with a growing intensity. She became captivated by the smallest gestures between you—the way JiU’s hand lingered on your cheek, or the soft laugh you’d give in response to her teasing. The catalog of videos became her private indulgence, something she turned to each evening, a ritual that filled the quiet spaces in her life.
Yet, the more she watched, a subtle ache grew within her—a yearning she couldn’t quite put into words. She’d watch each video, hoping to make sense of her feelings, but it only left her wanting more. This wasn’t just attraction; it was a craving for the deep bond she witnessed, a connection that seemed almost unattainable. And as she realized this, a creeping guilt began to take hold.
What am I even doing? she’d mutter to herself, torn between the comfort she found in the videos and the nagging feeling that she’d crossed an invisible line. They’d posted these videos for people to see, she reasoned; it’s not as if I’m invading their privacy. But the rationalization felt thin, a flimsy excuse for the thrill she felt in watching.
They wanted people to see this, right? she’d tell herself, trying to believe it; otherwise, why share something so intimate? But the sense of trespass lingered. She knew she should stop, that she needed to let this go. And yet, the pull of your bond, and the warmth it brought her, was something she wasn’t sure she could resist.
Outside of these moments, her days began to feel increasingly hollow. Work felt tedious, gatherings with friends left her restless, as if nothing could break the hold you and JiU had on her mind. And the more she tried to ignore the videos, the emptier she felt, like a crucial part of herself was missing.
When Yoohyeon returned home one day, the emptiness she’d tried to ignore settled back over her. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t return to those videos, yet her mind drifted, thinking of the warmth and passion she’d witnessed through her screen. She tried to distract herself, scrolling through social media and tidying her apartment, but her thoughts always circled back to you both.
Her routines had become dull, a monotonous hum against the vivid memories she replayed. Each night felt longer and lonelier, the quiet of her apartment amplifying the ache within her. And so, once again, she found herself at her bedroom window, gaze drifting toward your house, drawn to the only place that seemed to promise any relief.
Through the soft glow of your bedroom curtains, Yoohyeon could see your silhouettes, leaning close, bodies entwined in a quiet, intimate moment. Her heart skipped a beat, a thrill racing through her as she watched, her eyes fixed on your faces mere inches apart, bodies pressed together in a gentle embrace.
I shouldn’t be watching this, she told herself, but her body didn’t move. She rationalized that it was harmless, that it wasn’t wrong to watch from her own window. But part of her knew better. This was a private moment, and she was an uninvited guest. Yet the pull was magnetic, each glimpse deepening her curiosity, a live show she couldn’t resist.
Each night, Yoohyeon found herself back at the window, drawn into the private world you and JiU shared. Sometimes, you simply laughed over a glass of wine or leaned into each other, speaking softly. Other times, the moments were charged, your touches tender yet powerful, holding her in place as a silent witness to something she knew she couldn’t reach.
Over time, this ritual became a comfort, enough to carry her through her days. She tried to distract herself with work, with friends, but nothing compared to these glimpses. Eventually, the temptation grew stronger. She ordered a pair of compact binoculars, her heart racing as she unwrapped them. She knew it was wrong, that this was a step too far, but the thrill of watching, of catching each movement and expression, was irresistible. Through the lens, everything became vivid—every glance, each soft touch, every shared smile between you and JiU.
Deep down, she knew she’d crossed a line, but the quiet connection she felt each night kept her tethered to the window, watching, even as guilt lingered beneath her excitement.
-----
A few days later, while tending to the flowers in her front yard, Yoohyeon heard a soft clearing of the throat. Turning, she saw JiU leaning casually against the fence, a warm smile brightening her face.
“Hey, Yoohyeon,” JiU greeted, her gaze sweeping over the flowerbeds. “The flowers look beautiful. You’ve really brought some life to the neighborhood.” Her tone was light, yet the compliment carried an unexpected warmth.
“Oh, thanks!” Yoohyeon replied, brushing a petal with her fingers and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, hoping JiU wouldn’t notice the blush rising in her cheeks.
JiU stepped a little closer, her presence filling the space between them. “Listen,” she began, voice warm and inviting, “Y/N and I were talking, and if you’re free tonight, maybe you’d like to come over for dinner? It’d be nice to have a proper evening together, just us neighbors.” Her gaze was intent, as if searching for something in Yoohyeon’s reaction.
Yoohyeon’s breath caught, her mind racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh—dinner? Sure, I’d love that,” she managed, her voice trembling slightly.
JiU’s smile deepened, her gaze softening as if reassured by Yoohyeon’s answer. “Perfect,” she replied, her voice a touch lower. “Come by around seven; we’ll keep it cozy.” She held Yoohyeon’s gaze a moment longer, leaving Yoohyeon’s heart fluttering in anticipation.
The hours before dinner seemed to stretch and then fly by. Yoohyeon agonized over what to wear, searching for something casual yet flattering. Nervous energy buzzed in her stomach as she made her way up your front steps. When she knocked, her heart pounded, and JiU answered almost instantly, her face lighting up.
“Come on in! You look lovely,” JiU said, her voice rich with warmth as she ushered Yoohyeon inside. A faint scent of spices filled the air, mingling with a subtle floral aroma that heightened Yoohyeon’s awareness of every detail.
You appeared from the kitchen with a tray of small appetizers, smiling as you waved. “Hey, Yoohyeon. Make yourself comfortable,” you said, setting the tray down with a gentle laugh that only added to the inviting ambiance.
JiU handed Yoohyeon a glass of water, their fingers brushing just briefly. The touch sent a spark through Yoohyeon, and she couldn’t help but think of the way she’d watched those fingers move through her binoculars—the gentle, sensual touch. She took a quick sip of water, hoping to cool the flush on her cheeks. Her gaze flickered around the cozy living room, catching the glow of candlelight casting soft shadows along the walls.
“So, Yoohyeon,” JiU’s voice broke through her thoughts, grounding her. “How’s work treating you? Settling in alright?” JiU’s question felt warm, an invitation for Yoohyeon to open up.
“Oh, yeah, it’s been good,” Yoohyeon replied, grateful for the shift in topic. “Teaching is always an adventure. The kids keep it interesting.” She laughed softly, feeling herself relax. “They’re unpredictable, but that’s part of what makes it so rewarding.”
JiU nodded thoughtfully. “Teaching must take a lot of patience. I admire that,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. “I think I’d run out of it in ten minutes.”
You chuckled, nudging JiU. “You’d last five minutes. Tops.”
The three of you laughed, and conversation began to flow easily, each of you sharing stories from different corners of life. As JiU shared a story about getting hopelessly lost on the subway, laughter filled the room, each of you letting down your guard a little more.
At some point, JiU’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do you have any tattoos, Yoohyeon?”
“Oh, yeah.” Yoohyeon smiled, lifting her shirt slightly to reveal a delicate script along her ribs. “It says ‘Liberté, with a small bird.”
“Liberté,” JiU murmured, leaning in to look. “That’s beautiful. It really suits you.” Her voice was low, almost intimate, and Yoohyeon felt a thrill in her chest. Emboldened, she asked, “Do you have any?”
JiU smiled, tugging her collar to reveal a dreamcatcher tattoo on her shoulder. “To remind me to hold onto what matters and let go of the rest.”
“It’s beautiful,” Yoohyeon said softly, unable to shake the image of tracing the tattoo with her fingers. She glanced over at you, curiosity sparking. “How about you?”
You chuckled, glancing at JiU with a playful roll of your eyes. “No tattoos here. Minji’s tried to convince me, but I don’t think I could handle the pain.”
“Oh, she’s terrified,” JiU teased, nudging you affectionately. “But I think she’d look great with one.” The words lingered, stirring an amused smile as Yoohyeon joined in the laughter, her own inhibitions slipping away.
In the warmth of the moment, Yoohyeon suddenly blurted out, “Honestly, a tattoo would hurt a lot less than your piercings.” Her hand gestured toward your chest, lingering just a second too long. Realizing the implication, her cheeks flushed deeply.
Your eyes widened, a blush spreading as you exchanged a look with JiU. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she turned back to Yoohyeon, eyes gleaming. She leaned forward, eyebrow raised.
“Oh? And how do you know about my wife’s piercings, Yoohyeon?” JiU’s voice was smooth, her words dripping with amusement, making Yoohyeon flush under her steady gaze.
Heat flooded Yoohyeon’s cheeks. “I-I didn’t mean to… I just… I, um…” she stammered, avoiding your gaze.
Beside her, you blushed, looking to JiU, finding comfort in her knowing smile.
JiU leaned closer to Yoohyeon, her tone softening. “So Yoohyeon, Do you like watching our videos” she murmured, tracing gentle circles on Yoohyeon’s arm, She was silent but nodded “Hmm If you want,you could be part of the real thing.” Her eyes held Yoohyeon’s, the invitation clear.
Yoohyeon looked at you, feeling the weight of the invitation. She hesitated, her gaze softening. “Are you… really okay with this?” she asked gently.
Meeting Yoohyeon’s gaze, you smiled softly, reassuring her. “I wouldn't be opposed”
JiU’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction as her fingers brushed Yoohyeon’s arm. “So, what do you say?” she asked warmly. “Would you like to be part of our world?”
The room felt charged, each moment more intense. Yoohyeon took a breath, meeting JiU’s gaze with a smile.
“Yes, please,” she whispered, her voice soft, filled with both excitement and nerves.
As you make your way down the dim hallway, everything feels hushed and close, like the world’s gone quiet around the three of you. Yoohyeon walks between you and JiU, her hand clasped tightly in yours, her breathing just a bit quick, her fingers trembling slightly. JiU’s hand rests gently on her shoulder, steady and warm.
When you reach the bedroom, Yoohyeon pauses, taking a small step back, her gaze dropping to the floor. She presses her lips together, then glances up, her cheeks flushing as she searches for the right words. The room feels charged, anticipation thick, but she shifts slightly, looking uncertain.
“I… I didn’t plan for this,” she murmurs, voice low, almost to herself. She hesitates, crossing her arms as if shielding herself, a faint blush coloring her face. “I didn't, uh, exactly… prepare myself” Her eyes shift downward just below her stomach.
JiU steps in, her expression softening. She reaches out, gently tilting Yoohyeon’s chin so their eyes meet. “Yoohyeon,” she says quietly, her tone firm yet kind. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
The words settle into the silence, and Yoohyeon’s expression eases, a flicker of relief softening her eyes. She leans into JiU’s touch, her breath slowing as some of the tension leaves her. A shy smile lifts her lips, and she glances your way, as if looking for further reassurance.
You give her hand a small, comforting squeeze. “She’s right,” you murmur. “Also, I think its kind of sexy”
Yoohyeon’s face relaxes a little more, her shoulders dropping as she lets herself take a deeper breath. With a slight, tentative smile, she reaches down, fingers pausing for a moment before lifting her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands there, a bit vulnerable but resolute, a blush warming her cheeks as she glances from you to JiU.
The soft light highlights the natural curves of her skin. She hesitates again, glancing at the slight patch of hair, a flicker of worry crossing her expression. But JiU steps closer, her hand brushing Yoohyeon’s arm in a quiet, reassuring gesture.
With a warm smile, JiU takes her in fully, her gaze steady. She reaches up to tuck a loose strand of Yoohyeon’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger a moment. “You’re beautiful, Yoohyeon,” she says simply.
Yoohyeon lets out a quiet breath, her face softening with a mixture of shyness and relief. She looks between you both, then nods slightly, giving a small, genuine smile. Her body language loosens as she steps in closer, her warmth blending with yours, each touch a quiet affirmation that she’s wanted, just as she is. The three of you stand there, a gentle understanding settling over you all as you hold each other close, a quiet connection shared in the stillness of the room.
A shaky breath escapes Yoohyeon as JiU’s gaze settles on her, warm but undeniably commanding. Yoohyeon’s longing is palpable, and JiU takes her time, letting that desire simmer. Slowly, she leans in, brushing her lips softly over Yoohyeon’s, the kiss beginning gentle before deepening into something more consuming, drawing Yoohyeon closer as her breath catches. JiU’s hand rests on her arm, a steady anchor, fingers pressing just enough to show intent. Each touch from JiU electrifies Yoohyeon, a perfect balance of reassurance and intensity that leaves her pliant, already breathless.
Watching beside them, you’re drawn into the unfolding moment, savoring Yoohyeon’s reaction under JiU’s skilled touch—the way her eyes flutter shut, how her breathing hitches with quiet anticipation. JiU’s gaze briefly meets yours, a spark of control evident, as if reminding you of your place in this shared space. It stirs something raw in you, a familiar exhilaration mixed with a quiet submission to JiU’s presence, though there’s a different energy between you and Yoohyeon.
With a small smile, you reach out, your hand settling warmly on Yoohyeon’s thigh, your touch gentle but grounding, a reminder that she’s here, with both of you. Yoohyeon’s gaze drifts to you, her eyes softened, seeking reassurance, and you respond by squeezing her thigh, letting her feel your steady support, balanced between JiU’s authoritative energy and your own firm but comforting presence.
JiU’s focus returns fully to Yoohyeon as she guides her toward the bed, easing her down onto the soft sheets with a deliberate tenderness. There’s a practiced confidence in JiU’s movements as she brushes Yoohyeon’s hair back from her face, letting her fingers trail along the line of her jaw before tracing down the delicate curve of her neck. She leans in, pressing her lips to Yoohyeon’s collarbone, lingering, savoring each soft gasp Yoohyeon lets out in response.
Beside them, you settle onto the bed, your hand moving slowly higher on Yoohyeon’s thigh, grounding her with a presence that’s both firm and gentle. As JiU’s touch intensifies, guiding Yoohyeon’s breaths to come in short, anticipatory gasps, you find yourself caught between the energy they share. You want to keep Yoohyeon steady, but JiU’s movements send a different thrill through you, a pull you find hard to ignore as your own dynamic with JiU stirs within.
JiU’s attention stays fixed on Yoohyeon, her touch reverent yet possessive, as if she’s savoring every response Yoohyeon gives. Her hand trails deliberately over Yoohyeon’s skin, slow yet insistent, her fingers brushing over her arm, her collarbone, every touch deepening the flush on Yoohyeon’s cheeks. Each movement is infused with a quiet dominance, a confidence that seems to wrap around you both, filling the air with its own quiet intensity. Yoohyeon’s breath catches with each stroke, her body relaxing under JiU’s touch, fully yielding to her guidance.
You watch, captivated, as JiU leans in closer, her mouth tracing delicate, intentional kisses along Yoohyeon’s neck, pausing just enough to let her feel every touch. The sight sends a thrill through you but also a subtle pang that you try to brush aside, yet the quiet ache grows as JiU’s attention remains focused on Yoohyeon, her touch almost exclusive. It leaves you on the edge, caught between the warmth you feel for Yoohyeon and the deeper pull JiU has on you.
Taking a steady breath, you press your hand slightly more firmly against Yoohyeon’s thigh, a silent reminder of your own role here. Yoohyeon shifts her gaze to you, and for a moment, the tension eases as her lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. You meet her gaze, allowing yourself to ground her, pressing a series of light, lingering kisses along her skin. Yoohyeon sighs, her face relaxing as your touches soothe her, anchoring her in the moment, even as JiU’s hands roam with a possessive grace that leaves Yoohyeon visibly breathless.
JiU’s eyes catch yours, a knowing glint flashing across her face, as if she senses your quiet frustration simmering beneath the surface. She lets her fingers trace down the line of Yoohyeon’s hip, moving with that same deliberate care, drawing Yoohyeon’s body into her rhythm as she makes her shiver, her soft sounds filling the space around you. JiU tilts her head, her gaze sharp, her smile carrying a hint of playful challenge, a reminder of her role here and the depth of control she holds over you both.
“You’re doing so well, sweetie,” JiU murmurs to Yoohyeon, her voice a soothing purr. The words settle into the room, layered with a quiet encouragement that makes your pulse quicken as well, grounding you both in the same energy. You lean forward, brushing more intent kisses along Yoohyeon’s thigh, each one deliberate, marking your own space in this moment, letting her feel the shared warmth between all three of you.
Yoohyeon’s breaths quicken as your kisses travel upward, trailing along her inner thigh with a quiet intensity. Her body shifts between you and JiU, her skin warm under your touch, as you savor the softness of her in contrast to JiU’s more demanding presence. The ache you feel at JiU’s control lingers, the quiet jealousy simmering as her touches continue, each one seeming to pull Yoohyeon deeper into her orbit.
JiU’s hand settles possessively over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb brushing lightly as she murmurs, “Relax, Yoohyeon.” Her words are gentle, yet laced with authority, reminding Yoohyeon of the safety within her guidance. And when JiU catches your gaze again, there’s a subtle understanding there, a glint that speaks directly to the tension in your chest, as if she knows exactly how you feel, balancing on the edge of this connection.
Watching JiU’s fingers trace lightly over Yoohyeon’s thigh, you can’t help the possessive spark flaring within you. But rather than retreat, you choose to lean further in, letting your hand trail upward along Yoohyeon’s waist, steady and grounding as you press a kiss to her stomach. Yoohyeon’s body shifts, her hand gripping onto your shoulder as if to anchor herself, and for the first time, you let yourself get lost in the warmth radiating between the three of you, knowing you each have a place in this shared space.
Each kiss you place is firm, filled with intent, a quiet promise that you’re here, present in this moment. As you move upward, your lips trace a line over Yoohyeon’s collarbone, feeling the way her breath hitches, her hands finding their way to you, clutching as if drawing strength from you. The earlier pangs of jealousy fade slightly, replaced by a sense of connection, of being fully seen and cherished alongside her.
JiU’s hand rests over Yoohyeon’s heart, her thumb grazing her skin. “Look how ready she is for us,” she murmurs, her gaze slipping between you both, emphasizing the us with a possessive pride that settles the final edge of tension inside you. Her words hang in the air, a reminder of the beauty in this shared intimacy, and as you let yourself sink deeper, you feel the quiet exhilaration shared between all three of you.
Your wife brushes a strand of hair from Yoohyeon’s face, her smile soft and filled with pride. “You’re amazing, both of you,” she murmurs, holding Yoohyeon’s gaze with a warmth that feels momentarily exclusive. Then she glances at you, a spark of playfulness lighting her eyes. “And we’re just getting started.”
JiU’s eyes glint with mischief as she meets Yoohyeon’s gaze, a playful smirk on her lips. She nods toward the closet in a silent cue. You rise, feeling a mix of thrill and something deeper as you move to retrieve two straps—one smaller, one larger.
As you hold them up, you feel the slightest pang of possessiveness mixed with a quiet sense of defiance, grounding you in the moment as JiU’s attention shifts between you both. You turn back to Yoohyeon, meeting her eyes as she hesitates, her gaze flickering over the options before settling on the smaller one, excitement lighting up her expression as she chooses.
“Perfect,” JiU says, her voice low and encouraging, giving Yoohyeon a soft kiss along her jaw as her fingers graze her cheek. “Just let go and enjoy. Focus on us, and trust that you’re right where you belong.”
Yoohyeon nods, her eyes softening as JiU holds her close, her touch grounding the moment. You stand nearby, watching as JiU’s gaze lingers on Yoohyeon. Feeling that familiar spark of possessiveness, something came over you, as you silently set aside the smaller strap, choosing the larger one with a quiet determination.
With calm focus, you position yourself behind Yoohyeon, your hands steady on her hips, your touch warm against her skin. Each move carries a deliberate intensity, a reminder of your place here. You guide her closer to JiU, your touches unhurried, reflecting everything you’ve kept quietly restrained, setting a tone for the night ahead.
JiU’s expression softens as she tilts Yoohyeon’s chin upward, her voice a gentle murmur. “Are you ready?” she asks, her gaze warm as she caresses Yoohyeon’s cheek. Yoohyeon’s eyes shift between the two of you, trust and excitement flickering in her gaze before she nods. JiU leans in to kiss her, tender but with a commanding edge, then guides Yoohyeon’s face towards her core, her movements unhurried and patient as Yoohyeon’s anticipation deepens at the sight.
The moment of penetration elicits a sharp gasp from Yoohyeon, her body instinctively tensing as she tries to adjust to the unfamiliar sensation filling her. The pressure is intense, almost foreign, and it sends an electric wave of sensation through her, somewhere between pain and a thrilling pleasure she’s never felt before. Her fingers tighten reflexively, seeking any form of anchor as the object works itself inside, her senses heightening with each passing second. She shudders, pressing closer to JiU, her face buried against JiU’s legs, muffling the small, breathy cries escaping her lips.
The sounds of Yoohyeon’s voice seem to ignite something deep within JiU, who strokes her hair soothingly, her fingers threading softly but insistently. JiU’s hands guide her. The calm presence grounding Yoohyeon as she navigates the unfamiliar territory of sensation and vulnerability. Yoohyeon feels a rush of heat flood her cheeks, embarrassed by how intensely her body reacts. Each small movement makes her gasp or flinch, Then a particularly forceful thrusts propels her forward leaving no room between her and Jiu.
With slow, but deep movements, each thrust brings her further out of her discomfort and deeper into a sensation that is both electrifying and almost painfully raw. The rhythm builds subtly, adding an undertone of urgency that Yoohyeon isn’t ready to admit to. Her breaths come quicker, ragged, and each inhale draws in the faint, warm scent of JiU, Her mouth trying to explore every inch of her cave
Watching the way JiU’s features melt into pure, unfiltered bliss stirs an extra layer jealousy within you. The sight of Yoohyeon nuzzling into JiU’s folds, lips grazing her skin in worship, makes your pulse quicken, a possessive instinct sparking to life. Your hands, steady until now, tighten on Yoohyeon’s hips, holding her more firmly, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your fingertips. You let your pace quicken incrementally, enough to draw a whimper from Yoohyeon as the intensity shifts, her body instinctively pressing deeper against JiU.
JiU, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, tilts her head, her fingers still tracing gentle circles over Yoohyeon’s skin. She glances at you, concern flickering across her gaze as she notices the shift in your demeanor. “Honey… slow down a bit,” she murmurs, her voice gentle yet steady, her touch briefly pressing to your arm as if to calm the possessive fire building within you.
You nod, easing back into a softer, controlled rhythm. The moment feels fragile, balanced on a knife’s edge, and for a brief time, you believe the surge of intensity has been quelled. But as your wife's attention turns fully back to Yoohyeon, her voice lowering into murmured praises that bring a fresh flush to Yoohyeon’s cheeks, you feel it again, the jealousy that you didn't know you had, start to resurface. JiU’s voice is soft and tender, her praises a balm that soothes Yoohyeon’s trembling breaths, each word a gentle brush that eases her into surrender.
Your grip tightens on Yoohyeon’s hips, your fingers pressing firmly, possessively into her skin, Yoohyeon’s breath hitches as she feels the slight roughness in your touch, her head tilting back as a low, shuddering gasp escapes her. “Oh god… ow—” she pants, her voice trembling with the sheer need building within her. The rhythm intensifies, each slow, deliberate movement drawing out more of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Her hands twist into the sheets, her knuckles whitening as she struggles to hold on, each breath coming in gasps that grow heavier, more desperate.
“Oh—please… I—” Yoohyeon’s voice dissolves, her words reduced to a raw, pleading moan, every sound a testament to the sensations flooding her. The tension builds with every heartbeat, her entire body taut, alive, waiting for the release that hovers just out of reach. Her breaths quicken, her chest rising and falling as her muscles tense and release, the sensations coursing through her like an unstoppable wave.
Finally, the pressure breaks, and Yoohyeon cries out, her release overtaking her in an uncontrollable shudder. She clings to JiU burying her face, her body wracked by tremors as the pleasure spills over, leaving her breathless and utterly spent. Every fiber of her being surrenders in that moment, each shaky breath mingling with the warmth of JiU’s embrace, the sensation grounding her even as it sweeps her away.
JiU’s reaction is instinctual, immediate. The tremor that runs through Yoohyeon ripples into her, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from her lips. Her fingers tighten their hold in Yoohyeon’s hair as her own body responds, hips rocking forward involuntarily. JiU’s chest rises and falls, her breaths quickening as she lets the feeling sweep over her, each wave drawing her deeper into the haze of pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut, her body quivering in sync with Yoohyeon’s, as if the intensity of the moment binds them in a shared heartbeat.
The sight, the sound, the very essence of their shared surrender sparks something deeper within you—a visceral need to take Yoohyeon higher, to push her beyond the limits of what she thought possible. Your rhythm builds again, driven by a primal, possessive urge, every thrust maxing out her climax. Yoohyeon’s body responds, muscles clenching and releasing in waves as she’s drawn into a rhythm beyond her control. Her breath catches, her chest heaving as her mind dissolves in a swirl of raw sensation.
With each movement, Yoohyeon’s cries become sharper, her body more sensitive than ever before. Her back arches, her hands digging in the soft flesh of Jiu's thighs as her body shakes with the intensity.
The room fills with the sound of ragged breathing, punctuated by gasps and whispered pleas, a harmony of sensations that wraps around the three of you, Yoohyeon cries out one last time, her body numb and hurting, leaving her breathless, completely undone.
As you withdraw, JiU shifts upright, her gaze falling downward—and freezing when she notices the larger strap combined with the small tears threatening to fall of Yoohyeon's eyes. Surprise and disappointment flicker across her expression as she looks back at you, slowly shaking her head.
“Hey,” she says, her voice firm. “Why did you use that? She chose the smaller one for a reason.” Her eyes are steady and narrowing “You, of all people, should know to respect that.”
Guilt flashes across your face as JiU’s gentle reprimand settles over you. With an unspoken authoritative aura, she guides both you and Yoohyeon to lie side-by-side, her gaze warm but unyielding, making it clear who holds control. Her presence fills the room, and as her fingers trace along your thighs in light, teasing patterns, there’s an undeniable air of anticipation.
“Now,” JiU murmurs, eyes glinting with playful satisfaction. “I think it’s time for a lesson.” Her touch slows, one hand finding Yoohyeon’s core with a steady rhythm, each movement precise, deliberate, as her fingers trace patterns that leave Yoohyeon shivering and breathless. But her other hand on you is painstakingly slow, her fingertips drifting with an almost unbearable lightness, just enough to stir, to leave you squirming in anticipation.
Yoohyeon lets out a soft whimper, her body instinctively arching into JiU's touch as her fingers skim over the sensitive skin of her thigh. “JiU… please,” she whispers, her voice breathless, eyes locked onto her with raw intensity.
JiU’s smile deepens, a gleam of satisfaction in her gaze as her fingers linger just shy of where Yoohyeon craves her touch. “Patience.” she murmurs, her tone a blend of affection and control. “If I go too fast it will hurt you,”
Her attention shifts to you, her fingers tracing agonizingly slow circles along your thigh, light enough to make you squirm. "Minji..." Your voice is a soft, needy plea as your hands grip the sheets. "Please... can you go faster."
A low chuckle escapes JiU's lips, her smile widening. “You don’t get to ask, honey,” she teases, leaning close, her voice a soft murmur that sends a thrill through you. “Not after how you treated our guest today. An apology is in order.”
Her touch remains deliberate, shifting seamlessly between you and Yoohyeon. Every time Yoohyeon's breath hitches or her body tenses, JiU keeps her rhythm steady. Meanwhile, her hand on you moves with excruciating slowness, each featherlight stroke teasing but withholding satisfaction. The effect is intoxicating—leaving you both simmering, each touch drawing you further into her control.
“Faster” Yoohyeon’s voice fades into a moan, her body taut with need, each pause becoming a delicious ache.
Your own breaths quicken, and just when your eyes flutter closed, teetering on the brink, JiU withdraws again with a soft chuckle, her gaze amused as she watches the flush deepen on your face. "Minji… please, I'm sorry." you whisper, voice tinged with desperation.
JiU meets your gaze, her expression both warm and teasing as she cups your chin, directing your focus toward Yoohyeon. “Apologize to her not me and I might consider.” she says softly, her voice carrying an unmistakable command.
Turning to Yoohyeon, you search her face, a rush of sincerity coloring your voice. “Yoohyeon… I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “I never meant to hurt you.” The words linger, filled with unspoken emotion.
Yoohyeon’s expression softens, her cheeks flushed as her hand reaches to rest on yours. “It’s okay,” she whispers, her voice tender. “It hurt at first, but… I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good.”
A hint of satisfaction flickers across JiU’s face, and she rewards Yoohyeon’s patience with a deeper touch, her fingers moving with intent, coaxing Yoohyeon’s body to respond. Yoohyeon gasps, her breaths quickening as she arches under JiU’s steady rhythm, her need apparent as she sinks into the sensation.
JiU’s gaze shifts to you, her eyes softening in approval as she nods, encouraging you to join in. You lean closer to Yoohyeon, hands gently finding her chest, your touch warm and tender as you trace soft circles over her skin. Yoohyeon’s breath catches, her body responding instinctively to the combined attention, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and excitement.
You lower your lips to her collarbone, your kisses trailing down to her chest, every gentle press designed to bring her pleasure. Yoohyeon’s soft moans blend with the rhythm of JiU’s movements, each sound spurring you to deepen your touch, your fingers grazing her with reverence.
JiU’s hand remains steady on Yoohyeon, her fingers coaxing her closer to the edge, guiding her with the perfect rhythm as she murmurs, “Let go, Yoohyeon. Feel everything… don’t hold back.” The warmth in her voice is a reassurance, a command, urging Yoohyeon to release.
Yoohyeon’s hands find yours, her fingers entwined as she clutches at you, her breaths coming in gasps as her body arches, giving herself over to the sensations. Your lips move against her skin, each kiss, each touch drawing her closer. She tenses, her voice breaking into soft cries, her body finally reaching its peak.
With a shuddering breath, Yoohyeon succumbs, her hands clutching you tightly as each wave overtakes her, her soft moans filling the air as she finds release. Her breaths come heavy, and she melts into your arms, her eyes fluttering open, her gaze meeting yours with gratitude and affection. JiU’s smile deepens, pride evident in her expression as you both hold Yoohyeon through each tremor, your touch a steady, reassuring presence.
With a kiss to Yoohyeon’s cheek, JiU murmurs, “Do you want a sneak peek of our next video?” Her voice is soft yet brimming with excitement, and Yoohyeon’s eyes light up, nodding weakly as she savors the warmth of the moment.
JiU’s hands are steady and sure as she gently positions you and Yoohyeon face-to-face, her calm assurance guiding you into place. She eases your legs apart, leaving you open in front of Yoohyeon’s wide-eyed gaze. Her touch drifts lower, fingers moving with precision, each rhythmic stroke pulling you closer to the edge. Her other hand finds your breast, expertly toying with the pierced nipple, the cool metal sending a delightful shiver against your warmth. Your head tips back, breaths coming in quicker under her skilled, steady touch.
Yoohyeon’s gaze remains locked, her eyes unblinking as she absorbs each nuanced motion. Breath shallow and body still, she is captivated by the energy between you and JiU, as if it wraps around her like a charged current. Her heartbeat quickens, matching the rhythm JiU sets—each precise stroke, each deliberate tug that draws soft gasps from your lips. With every shift in JiU’s movements, Yoohyeon feels herself drawn further into the moment, as if JiU’s touch extends through the room’s tension, reaching her too.
JiU’s focus sharpens, her touch unwavering as her fingers move inside you with unyielding intent, guiding you with each practiced stroke to the edge. Her fingers curl to explore your most sensitive places, igniting a powerful current that travels through your entire body. Instinctively, your hand clings to her arm, a silent plea for release as you surrender to her control, every wave of sensation coursing through you under her skilled guidance.
"Cum... now!" JiU whispers as she simultaneously give you a soft bite on your neck. The words sink in, reverberating through you, unlocking a raw tension that has been building. Her command—firm yet filled with tenderness—becomes the final spark that tips you over, dissolving the last of your resistance as her presence anchors you in place.
Under JiU’s expert guidance, a tidal wave of sensation floods your body, each nerve heightened, every inch alive. The world blurs as every part of you surrenders to the crescendo building within. Your back arches, helpless against the surge, muscles taut as your head falls back, eyes closed, and a sharp, unrestrained cry escapes your lips. 
The pleasure is unstoppable, a wave that crests and breaks with a fierceness that consumes you entirely. It rushes through your body, an intense warmth that spills outward, flowing down to Yoohyeon, who lies below, a willing recipient of your shared experience. She gasps as the intimate liquid reaches her, coating her chest and stomach with the evidence of your release. Some of your juices even reaches her mouth, allowing her to taste the sweet and salty essence of you
For a heartbeat, Yoohyeon is frozen, mesmerized by the fluid that seeps into her skin, filling her with an exhilaration that is both grounding and electrifying. The room itself seems to hold its breath, thick with the shared intensity surrounding you all. Every sound, every heartbeat is amplified in this suspended moment, creating a symphony of sensation that envelops the space.
Yoohyeon's chest rises and falls with ragged, soft breaths, each inhale pulling in the lingering scent that coats her. Her gaze stays fixed on you, lips parted, eyes glistening with awe. Her flushed skin a testament to the power of your pleasure. The energy is unrestrained, enveloping her and leaving her equally breathless, equally awestruck by the intensity of the moment.
JiU, the maestro of this symphony, watches with a satisfied smile, her hands steadying you with soothing touches as she gently lowers you from the heights of your climax. She leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. Then, with a gentleness that belies the strength of her presence, she brushes a few damp strands from Yoohyeon's flushed face. Her gaze is warm, filled with pride and affection for both of you—her protégés in the art of pleasure.
“Better not spoil that for any other fans,” JiU murmurs, a playful note in her voice, her gaze lingering fondly on the shared connection filling the room.
With a final, gentle reverence, JiU leans down, her lips trailing soft, intimate kisses over every inch touched by your release. Each kiss feels like a blessing, a quiet act of devotion that fills the room with a serene warmth. Her lips linger on Yoohyeon’s flushed skin, delicate yet deliberate, as though committing each moment to memory. Yoohyeon’s eyes flutter closed, savoring the tenderness. 
JiU then turns her attention to you, her touch unhurried, as if there’s all the time in the world. Her hands drift over your skin, fingers grazing softly, leaving warmth in their wake. There’s an unspoken affection in her gaze, her touch, a quiet promise that the intimacy shared tonight isn’t fleeting. As she presses a final, featherlight kiss to your lips, you feel a sense of completion, a fullness that settles deeply within.
Eventually, as the moment’s glow begins to settle into a gentle stillness, JiU helps you and Yoohyeon gather your things. Her hands are soft and unhurried, fingers brushing with care as she smooths tousled hair and adjusts clothing, each touch infused with a lingering tenderness. Every gesture feels like a quiet vow, an intention to hold on to the intimacy woven between you all tonight. Her knowing smile catches yours and Yoohyeon’s in turn, a silent acknowledgment of the closeness you now share.
When fully dressed, your hand instinctively finds Yoohyeon’s. Her fingers wrap around yours in a gentle yet steadying grip, her legs still a bit shaky as she stands beside you. Her gaze meets yours, and then drifts back to JiU, whose warm expression seems to say it all—a quiet pride in the bond she’s nurtured tonight.
As Yoohyeon steadies herself, gathering her belongings, she steps slowly toward the door, each movement deliberate, her legs still a little unsteady from the shared closeness. Just as her hand reaches the handle, JiU places a hand on her shoulder, leaning close with a playful glint in her eyes. “Maybe next time, you could make a little cameo in one of our videos,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice carrying a lighthearted warmth.
Yoohyeon’s cheeks flush, but there’s a newfound ease in her smile as she meets JiU’s gaze, sharing a glance with you as well. Her eyes sparkle, holding a quiet thrill as she nods, voice soft yet brimming with promise. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she replies, warmth threading through her words.
Stepping outside, the cool night air greets her like a gentle embrace, grounding and refreshing her. She walks slowly down the path, her heart fluttering, her steps still a bit tentative but full of joy, as though she’s carrying a spark of the night with her. Her smile lingers as she reaches her door, realizing with a soft chuckle that she won’t be needing her binoculars or her phone anymore. There’s no more distance to bridge, no more glances from afar—only the closeness she now holds deeply, a warmth that will linger long after the night fades.
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faustiantales · 4 months ago
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𝖆 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖕 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖛𝖗
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Dark Descent: Info-kun X fem/afab!Reader
Twisted Truths: incest, dubcon, headcanon info-kun name, underaged sex, fingering, vaginal penetration
Synopsis: Kenzo's little sister sought his help for a VR game. Since the game she's playing is an 'immersive' visual novel romance, with his aid, the line between reality and fantasy blurred — as well as the line between siblings.
Shadows Lengthen: 2.6k words
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        The room was bathed in the soft glow of the computer monitor, casting an eerie light on [Y/n]'s focused face as she navigated through the virtual world of 'Amorous Abyss.' It was a game she'd heard whispers about, a visual novel rumored to be so immersive it was like living a second life. Her heart raced with excitement as she approached the moment she'd been eagerly awaiting for weeks.
        [Y/n] had chosen her love interest carefully: Kai, the brooding, mysterious hero with a heart of gold hidden beneath layers of angst. His digital eyes seemed to gaze into hers, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. It was time for their relationship to take a steamy turn, and she was more than ready.
        But there was a problem. The game's latest update included a feature she hadn't anticipated: a full-body immersion system that mimicked intimate contact with the characters. The game's description called it 'revolutionary,' but she knew she needed help to authenticate the experience.
        Her thoughts drifted to her older brother, Kenzo. He was the closest person she had to a confidant, and she knew he'd be able to keep a secret. Plus, she'd caught him playing games with mature content before. He'd understand. She took a deep breath and picked up her phone, and the decision was made. Her thumbs danced across the screen as she composed a text message, her cheeks flushing with a mix of excitement and embarrassment.
        "Niisama, I need to talk to you about something...it's kind of weird," she typed, hitting send before she could second-guess herself. The anticipation grew as she waited for his response, the game's romantic background music swelling around her.
        The redhead's reply was swift. "What's up, [N/n]? You okay?"
        Her heart skipped a beat. She knew that her brother was stuck on gadgets 24/7, though she never expected him to reply to her message this fast, especially when he deemed it 'insignificant'. Most of the time, he would just ignore her message or leave it on 'seen' when he's busy doing his shady dealings. Thankfully, this time, he seems free to acknowledge her.
        "Can you come to my room? It's about this game I'm playing. I need some advice," she responded, pursing her lips in anticipation.
        She heard his footsteps in the hallway, and a moment later, her bedroom door creaked open. Kenzo's face was a mix of curiosity and concern. Though the second emotion appeared only for a split second — by the time his narrowed, red orbs landed on her, intrigue and annoyance masked his features.
        "What's going on?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
        The girl swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her older brother's gaze on her. Kenzo was always a man of few words, but he had a knack for making his presence known. His arms were folded across his chest, and he waited for her to speak, his curiosity piqued by the urgency in her message.
        "It's about the new VR game I got," she began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want to... experience it fully, but I need your help."
        The bespectacled male raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"
        Her eyes darted to the floor as she gathered her courage. Her older brother's gaze was heavy, but she knew she had to ask. So, with whatever little courage she had, she gathered everything and stared straight at her brother's ruby orbs, which were looking at her intensely, making her feel small and vulnerable. 
        "There's a... scene coming up, and I need a stand-in for the physical part. It's just for the game," she rushed out, hoping he'd understand.
        Her brother's expression morphed from confusion to surprise and then, to her relief, to amusement. [Y/n] felt her heart leaped with hope, knowing that her brother would be willing to listen to her trivial concerns and give her the advice she needed.
        "You want me to... help you with that?" He chuckled, his voice low.
        She nodded, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. "Please, Niisama. It's important to me. I've never felt this way about a game before."
        He studied her for a moment, his eyes softening as he stepped into the room. "Okay, but you have to explain everything to me."
        With trembling hands, she demonstrated the VR setup, showing him the controllers and the headset. She explained the intimate scenes in detail, her voice growing softer with each word. Kenzo's smile faded, replaced by a look of understanding.
        "Alright, I'll help you," he said finally, his voice a gentle rumble. "But only if you're sure this is what you want."
        She nodded, a spark of excitement igniting in her chest. "I'm positive."
        "Let's get this over with, then," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of something she couldn't quite place. The redhead took the headset from her, his eyes meeting hers.
        As the headset slipped over her eyes, the real world faded away, and she was transported into the arms of Kai, her virtual lover. The sensations began to overwhelm her, and she reached out, her hand brushing against something warm and solid.
        Her heart jumped up in her chest. It was Kenzo, standing next to her, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air. [Y/n] briefly removed the headset, looking at her redheaded older brother with an apologetic expression, which he only responded with an unreadable expression.
        "Sorry," she murmured, her cheeks flushing even deeper. He snickered, his hand dropping to his side.
        "No problem," he said, his voice thick with something she hadn't heard before—desire?
        [Y/n] put on the headset once more and the VR game began to play out, and she felt the digital whispers of Kai's breath against her ear. Her body responded instinctively, her breath hitching in anticipation. Kenzo's hand found hers, and she squeezed it tightly as the scene grew more intense. The fabric of her pajamas felt rough against her skin, a stark contrast to the soft caresses she felt in the game.
        The tension in the room grew palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires. It didn't take long for the siblings to move to the bed, mirroring the scenario played in the game. [Y/n] could feel her body reacting to the sensations, and she knew her brother could feel it too. His thumb began to trace circles on the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. Her heart raced in her chest, thudding like a bass in a dance club.
        The moment arrived. Kai's digital hands began to undress her, and she felt Kenzo's own hands mimic the movements. His touch was gentle but firm, his skin warm and real against hers. The game's graphics were stunning, the fabric of her dress sliding away to reveal her naked body. She gasped as she felt her brother's hand cup her bare breast, his thumb brushing over her erect nipple.
        The line between reality and the game blurred as she leaned into his touch. The VR world swirled around them, the only sounds were the sighs of the virtual lovers and their ragged breathing. Her body arched off the bed, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan as Kenzo's hand traveled lower, his fingers slipping under the waistband of her pajama bottoms.
        The game's narrative grew more heated, and the girl felt her arousal mirror Kai's digital passion. Her brother's touch grew bolder, his fingers delving into her wetness, exploring her folds. She couldn't tell if the sensations were coming from the game or her brother's hand, but she didn't care. All she knew was that she wanted more.
        Her hips began to move in time with the rhythm of his fingers, her body undulating like a wave in the sea of desire. The VR world melded with the physical one, and she could feel Kai's mouth on hers, his tongue probing deeply, as Kenzo's kissed her neck. It was as if the two men were one, their passion intertwined in a dance of flesh and pixels.
        The climax built within her, a crescendo of pleasure that she'd never felt before. She threw her head back, her moans echoing through the headset. Her brother's other hand found her hip, holding her in place as he drove her closer to the edge. The room spun around her, a whirlwind of sensations that left her gasping for breath.
        And then it hit her, the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced, tearing through her like a tornado. She bucked against the redhead's hand, her body convulsing with pleasure. She could feel his arousal pressing against her leg, and she reached out, her hand wrapping around his hard length.
        As the last waves of her climax subsided, she opened her eyes, the VR world fading away. Kenzo's eyes were dark with lust, and she knew at that moment that their relationship had shifted forever. The game had brought them together in a way she'd never dared to dream of.
        But now, as she looked into his eyes, she knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in their lives—a chapter filled with passion, secrets, and a bond that was no longer purely familial. With trembling hands, she removed the headset, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the sultry embrace of the virtual world.
        "Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. Kenzo's eyes searched hers, the intensity of the moment weighing heavily on them both. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek.
        "Don't thank me," he murmured, his hand sliding from her hip to the back of her neck. "This is just the start."
        Without another word, he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was every bit as passionate as the ones she'd shared with Kai in the game. His tongue danced with hers, the taste of him intoxicating. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before—real, raw, and all-consuming.
        [Y/n]'s hand tightened around his shaft, her movements growing more confident as she felt him respond to her touch. She could feel his pulse racing through his veins, the beat matching the frantic rhythm of her own heart. His kiss grew deeper, more demanding, and she met him with equal fervor.
        They broke apart, panting, their eyes locked. The air was charged with a tension that could have powered the city outside their window. He stepped closer, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers.
        "We should..." she began, but he silenced her with another kiss.
        Kenzo's hands slid down her body, peeling away her pajamas. Her skin was alive with sensation, every inch of her yearning for his touch. He paused, his eyes raking over her naked form with an appreciation that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
        "You're so perfect," he murmured, his voice a gruff whisper.
        And then, with a hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating, he removed his clothes, throwing them across the room like a sack of potatoes. His body was a sculpted masterpiece, a stark contrast to the softness of hers. [Y/n] could feel her own pulse hammering in her throat, her eyes wide with a mix of lust and awe. She could feel the heat of his arousal pressing against her, and she spread her legs, inviting him in.
        Their bodies moved together in a dance as old as time, a dance of passion and need. Kenzo's kisses grew more urgent, his hands exploring every inch of her skin. He knew just where to touch her, just how to make her gasp and arch her back, her body a canvas for his desires.
        And as they became one, the barrier between the game and reality shattered. The digital world of 'Amorous Abyss' faded away, replaced by the very real sensation of her brother inside her, his movements driving her towards another peak of pleasure. The lines blurred until she couldn't tell where the game ended and her new reality began.
        "So this is what you truly meant by help, huh?" the redhead sneered, cleaning his glasses while thrusting into his little sister's tight hole without mercy.
        [Y/n] nodded, unabashed, feeling the warmth spread through her body. Her cheeks were flushed with a perfect pink hue, her tresses damp with sweat and sticking to her forehead. She let out a couple of wanton mewls, her inhibition gone when her brother continued his relentless assault on her poor cunt.
        Kenzo's strokes grew stronger, more demanding, as he watched his sister's body respond to his touch. He'd never seen her like this—so open, so vulnerable, so desperate for release. It was intoxicating, and he found himself getting lost in the moment, forgetting the taboo nature of their situation.
        "Such a slut," he growled darkly, ruby eyes narrowing to a judging glare, his signature smirk adorning his lips. "But you're mine now, aren't you?"
        [Y/n] nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built up within her. Her body was a symphony of sensations, each stroke of Kenzo's cock sending shockwaves of ecstasy through her core. She felt his grip on her hips tighten, his pace quickening as he approached his own climax.
        But amidst the whirlwind of passion, a tiny voice in the back of her mind whispered a warning. This was her brother, the person she'd grown up with, the one who'd protected her from monsters under the bed. Yet here they were, sharing the most intimate of moments. Would this change everything?
        The question was forgotten as Kenzo's hand found her clit, his thumb rubbing it in perfect time with his thrusts. She threw her head back, crying out his name as the orgasm claimed her once again. The room was a blur of lights and sounds, their cries of pleasure melding together in a symphony of lust.
        And when it was over, when they lay tangled in the sheets, their bodies slick with sweat, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. They'd crossed a line, and there was no going back. But as she felt his heartbeat against her chest, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the start of something incredible, something that had been hidden within the pixels of a game all along.
        Kenzo rolled onto his side, his arm draped around her waist, and she could feel his breath against her neck. His cock was still hard, still buried inside her, and she shivered with the aftershocks of pleasure. For a moment, they lay there in silence, the only sound the steady thump of their hearts.
        "That was..." he began, his voice trailing off.
        "Incredible," she finished for him, her breathing still ragged.
        "Should we make this a regular thing?" he teased, humping his hardening cock against her entrance.
        The sensation of his thickness sliding in and out of her was so real, so intense, that she could hardly believe she'd ever lived without it. [Y/n]'s eyes widened with surprise and a thrill of excitement, biting her lips to prevent a shameless moan from escaping her lips.
        "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice breathy.
        Kenzo leaned in, his eyes gleaming with sinister mischief. "You know what I mean. Every time you play that game, I'll be here, bringing those scenes to life. What do you say, little sis?"
        The girl felt a rush of conflicting emotions—shock, arousal, and a hint of fear. But the excitement won out. She nodded, her voice a whisper. "Okay."
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📜— Return to the Shadowed Archive
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art · 9 months ago
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Creator Spotlight: @jijidraws
Jiji Knight is a latina pinup illustrator. Her work is overall geared toward thick ladies and dedicated to fat positivity out of a purely selfish need to create art she wished she had seen growing up. She often features sexy and soft macabre themes on vibrant or sweet colours and takes great joy in making folx feel good about themselves with her work. She holds a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration and operates out of her very sunny hometown of Las Vegas.
Check out our interview with Jiji below!
Have you ever had an art block? If so, how did you overcome it?
Oh my gosh… I have art blocks all the time. My favorite way of overcoming it is by making fanart. Funnily enough, that’s something I don’t do in my own work anymore. But there are still IPs I return to that still bring joy to my heart. I love returning to drawing Sailor Moon like when I was in first grade. Or I’ll even look up the last fashion week and start drawing the fashion week outfits from the Paris or New York show. Stuff like that is what gets my creative juices flowing.
What medium have you always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?
Resin. Resin art is so stunning. People make the most amazing and beautiful sculptures using resin, and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play with something so complicated. There are a lot of ways to cure it, and sometimes, it doesn’t cure properly…I already work with enough chaos as it is! I respect resin artists, but I don’t think I would ever touch it. I’ve admired it from a distance. There is an artist I follow who does these resin layer paintings. So they’ll paint a layer of resin, then cure it, and paint on top of the cured layer. They build up these amazing paintings using resin…I could never. Maybe one day!
What is one interaction you had with a fan of yours that has stuck with you over the years?
I still remember…It was my first and only Flame Con in New York. I had a fan come up to my booth. They didn’t say hello or that it was nice to meet me. They started to cry! They cried, and the first words out of their mouth were, “I’ve never seen myself in artwork before.” So, of course, I started to cry! So we were just crying across the table at each other. It was just one of the sweetest interactions, and it really sticks with me still to this day.
What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?
My latest collaboration with the artist Missupacey. We’ve been collaborating for two years now, and our last collaboration was for Midsummer Scream. It was two very cute clown girls, and I designed our T-shirt. It was one of the most fun projects we’ve done in a long time. We love doing collaborative work because it keeps working in the art industry fresh—being able to bounce ideas back and forth. So we do it where someone picks the color palette, and someone picks a theme. We’ll get references together, put them on a big board, and send each other sketches. It’s really nice to work with somebody else.
How has technology changed the way you approach your work?
Honestly, it changed everything. I mean, I used to draw for myself a lot. And while I still do that, I now predominantly draw for my Patrons. For a while, I was drawing for the internet. So I was drawing stuff people wanted to see in terms of plus-sized versions of characters—a plus-sized Poison Ivy or a plus-sized Sailor Moon. My Patrons have allowed me to start drawing for myself again. But technology, for a while, essentially dominated what direction I was taking with my art, so I’m grateful to take some of that power back.
If there is one thing that you want art enthusiasts to remember you by, what would it be?
Body positivity. I would love for them to remember that there is an artist making work that is making people feel good about themselves and about the way they look at themselves.
Top tips on setting up an Artist Alley booth?
Have a method of taking money, have a method of displaying your work, and have a way to take a break. I have a plastic picnic cover that costs like a dollar at any store. All I have to do is clip it to my display grates, and it covers up my entire display. I feel secure enough to take time for myself in a 10-hour workday to eat something, go to the restroom, or even take a moment to breathe and reorganize my inventory. So it’s so funny that this one-dollar piece of plastic is like the most life-saving item in my display of items.
Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?
@mayakern comes to mind. She is another body-positive artist who expanded into making body-positive clothing. She’s amazing, and just to see someone else out there promoting body positivity. Maya’s been doing it longer than I have, I believe. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. Her work is always stunning, and I love her body-positive DnD characters and the fact that she’s still plowing through the clothing industry. For example, she’s expanded from skirts to button-downs and even custom-wrap shirts. I love to see what she’s doing, and it inspires me to pursue different avenues with my own work.
Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing, Jiji! Be sure to check out their Tumblr blog over at @jijidraws.
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baelarys · 1 month ago
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𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖈𝖑𝖔𝖘𝖊𝖗
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cregan stark x reader velaryon
Word count:2277
Warninig:Spontaneous abortion,angust.
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You hated this place. Even when wrapped in countless layers and furs, the cold always found a way to seep through to you. It was a cold that not only chilled the bones but also the spirit, reminding you of how foreign you felt in this inhospitable land.
From the start, you had considered this marriage unnecessary. Lord Stark would have supported your mother’s cause without the need to wed you. At least, that’s what you believed. The Starks always honored their promises, or so you had heard in Dragonstone. You arrived in Winterfell with your brother Jacaerys, thinking it would be just another visit. However, that same night, before his return, the plans changed: your marriage to the Lord of the North was sealed, unexpectedly.
Fear consumed you. You didn’t want to marry, and certainly not him. The Lord of Winterfell was as cold as the landscape that surrounded him, distant and reserved. Although you now bore the title of Lady of this house, you knew that to the people of the North, you remained an outsider, someone who neither shared their blood nor their customs. The looks they gave you were not of respect but of mistrust.
You wondered if you could ever come to consider this place your home, but every gust of icy wind that struck the stone towers reminded you that you did not belong to this realm of shadows and ice. The Stark promises of loyalty may have been steadfast, but their hearts were as cold and distant as the winters that ruled these lands.
However, not everything was so bleak. Despite the discomfort of your new surroundings, you were far from the war and the conflicts that divided your family. In Winterfell, the echo of battles and internal struggles was silenced by the vast expanse of snow and mountains. Here, in the solitude of this fortress, you found a strange peace, a temporary respite from the intrigues that had always marked your life.
You walked from the courtyard, leaving behind the cold, gray walls, toward the gates of the fortress. Your feet sank into the snow, soft and frosted, as the wind swirled small flakes around you. In the distance, you spotted the imposing silhouette of your dragon, Sunset. Her wings, a coppery color that contrasted with the cloudy sky, stretched out majestically as she settled on the ground, her enormous body creating a temporary refuge from the cold.
At the sight of Sunset, a familiar warmth enveloped you. The dragon, with her majestic form and scales that seemed to glow like embers in the snow, was the closest thing to a reminder of home in this distant corner of the world. You approached slowly, and she, with a soft rumble, lowered her head toward you, awaiting the touch of your hand. The warmth of her scales against your skin and the hot breath she exhaled as she relaxed immediately comforted you, driving away the cold that had seeped into your bones since your arrival.
Suddenly, the crunch of snow under boots interrupted the peace of the moment, but you didn’t turn around. It wasn’t necessary; you knew only he would dare approach you and the imposing creature that had accompanied you since your youth. You expected him to come closer, but his steps halted as Sunset’s violet eyes fixed on his figure.
“Come closer, boy,” you said with a slight smile, barely tilting your head to glance at him. “She won’t eat you... unless I command her to.” Your words hung in the air, laced with a hint of challenge. You watched Cregan Stark, with his severe expression and indomitable presence, usually accompanied by the sword that rested in its sheath. Today, however, something about him seemed different. His hair, which he always wore tied back, fell loose over his shoulders, giving him a less restrained, more wild appearance, like the North itself.
His dark eyes remained fixed on the dragon’s, cautious but determined. He was not a man easily intimidated, not even by the mythical creature that posed a constant threat to anyone but you. Yet, in that moment, there was more than just respect in his gaze; there was an unspoken understanding of the power you shared with Sunset, a power he could not ignore.
“Do you not trust her?” you asked, your voice soft but firm, as you continued to stroke the dragon, feeling the powerful muscles beneath her scales relax under your hand.
Cregan kept his distance a moment longer before speaking, his deep voice resonating with the gravity of a man accustomed to the dangers of the North but still unable to fully comprehend the bond between rider and dragon. “I trust you,” he finally said, taking a step closer to you, though still with a cautious eye on Sunset. “But any man who approaches a beast like that would be a fool not to do so carefully.”
You smiled at his response, sensing that despite the cold façade Cregan Stark usually displayed, he wasn’t indifferent to you or to what you meant in his life.
“They're asking,” he suddenly blurted out, breaking the silence that surrounded you. His tone was grave, loaded with a tension that needed no further explanation. It took you a moment to realize who he was referring to.
“Oh... they already have Rickon, why do they insist so much on this?” you replied, your voice tinged with bitterness as your fingers continued to stroke the warm scales of Sunset. The simple act of caressing your dragon helped you contain the frustration you felt. “Do they really care that much about having dragon riders?”
Cregan remained silent for a moment before responding, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he slowly approached you. “Rickon is not yours,” he said, his words slow and measured, as if wanting to make sure you fully understood their implications.
You felt a pang in your chest upon hearing those words, though they were not new to you. Rickon, Cregan’s son, had been an important part of your days in Winterfell. Still, you knew that no matter how attached you had become to the boy, he was not your blood, and that fact was impossible to ignore.
“I know,” you responded with a hint of resignation in your voice. “But they think I’m not trying,” you added sincerely, lowering your hand from Sunset’s scales and starting to walk back toward the fortress.
The weight of your words hung in the air, much like the mist that enveloped the towers of Winterfell. With every step, the coldness of the stone and the northern wind seemed to tighten the knot of pain in your chest. The whole process had been painful, more than anyone outside of your situation could understand. You had lost three pregnancies, each one more devastating than the last. Some of those children had never seen the light, born deformed; others had barely survived a few hours, leaving in their departure a void difficult to fill. The bleeding, the unbearable pain, each loss had left an invisible scar that marked both your body and spirit.
Cregan walked a few steps behind you, silent, but his presence was palpable. There were things he could never fully understand, and though you had tried to keep him distant from your pain, you knew you couldn’t hide everything from him.
“They don’t see it,” you continued, stopping at the threshold before entering. “They don’t see how much it hurts. They don’t understand what it’s like to lose… over and over again.”
The cold wind seemed to remain outside as you crossed the door, but the weight in your chest was as present as ever. Cregan, walking beside you, appeared to be carefully considering his next words, as if knowing that any attempt at comfort could break the delicate calm you both shared.
“We could try again,” he suggested, his tone as practical as ever, as both of you entered the intimacy of your room. The fire crackled weakly in the fireplace, barely offering warmth compared to the tide of emotions bubbling within you.
You stopped abruptly, turning your back to him for a moment before facing him again, your eyes locking with his, defiant. “For what? So the next one can die or kill me?” The harshness in your voice surprised even you. It wasn’t just anger you felt; it was the weight of despair, of a constant struggle against something that seemed beyond your control.
Cregan held your gaze, his expression hardened but not unfeeling. “That’s not what I want,” he finally said, his voice low but firm, as if his intention was to pierce through the armor of pain you had built over time. “But I also can’t ignore that the North needs an heir, and everyone’s eyes are on us, waiting…”
“Waiting for me to give them a child,” you finished for him, your words bitter but real. You knew the burden of producing an heir weighed as much on you as it did on him. It wasn’t a matter of desire or affection; it was a political necessity, one that came with impossible responsibilities and expectations.
You turned toward the fireplace, staring at the flames for a moment, trying to find in the fire some kind of answer that wouldn’t come. “I’ve tried, Cregan. I’ve tried to the point of breaking. And each time, the result is the same.” You felt a lump form in your throat, but you swallowed it before continuing. “I don’t know if I can take any more.”
There was a long silence, interrupted only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of the wind outside. Cregan stepped closer to you, his presence firm but respectful. “I’m not asking you to break for them, not even for me. What I’m asking is that we think together, that we don’t make decisions out of fear or desperation.”
His words, though sensible, did not alleviate the weight you carried. But in his tone, you could perceive something more: a willingness not to let that burden crush you alone. Despite the circumstances that had brought you together, despite the emotional distance that sometimes imposed itself between you, there was an attempt, however clumsy, to share that load.
Still, the pain remained yours. And in that moment, you didn't know if you would be able to face another loss, another disappointment.
Cregan, as always, was pragmatic, but in his pragmatism, there was also a sort of acceptance. "If you decide that you don't want to try again, I'll understand," he said, and though his words were calm, there was a resolution in them that you recognized as genuine. "I just want whatever you choose to be because you want it, not because they demand it."
You carefully settled down next to Rickon, the little one absorbed in his game with the wooden figures representing wolves and other creatures of the forest. His tiny hands skillfully moved the animals, making the wolves howl in their own imaginary world. His hair, darker than Cregan's, was a striking contrast to the cold landscape of the North, and although you never knew his mother, you could guess that Rickon must have been the spitting image of her.
You adjusted yourself, resting your hands on your rounded belly. It had been five months since that conversation with Cregan when, after many sleepless nights and doubts, you decided to give the possibility of an heir another chance. This time, without the shadow of fear looming so large, though anxiety still lurked in the darker corners of your mind. Every movement, every sensation, was a reminder of both hope and risks.
The voice of one of your handmaidens pulled you from your thoughts. "My lady," she said softly, approaching with a parchment in hand, the unmistakable seal of House Umber presiding over the paper. You took it carefully, breaking the seal as Rickon continued to play by your side.
You unfolded the parchment, and a small smile appeared on your lips as you recognized Cregan's firm handwriting. He had set off north weeks ago, leading his men to confront the wildling raids that were disturbing the lands of House Umber. Winterfell had been strangely quiet without him. Though the fortress was never empty, his strong, unwavering presence had been missed. With each passing day, you had grown more accustomed to his company, to the silent security he offered.
His words on the parchment were concise, typical of a man like him, yet they contained enough details to assure you that he was well. The issues with the wildlings were being resolved, and while there were still some pockets of resistance, he expected to return soon. He also mentioned how the Umber, despite their stubborn and proud nature, had offered their hospitality, though it was clear he missed the tranquility of Winterfell and, less directly, your presence.
You lingered over the parchment a moment longer, stroking the edge of the paper with one hand while the other rested on your belly, where the life you had feared so much seemed to be developing normally this time.
Rickon, oblivious to everything, lifted one of his figures toward you. "Look, mother," he said, using the title that Cregan had taught him to call you for the past few months. Though it had surprised you at first, you soon realized it was a gesture as natural as it was necessary. Rickon had accepted you as family, and in that moment, as you held his father's letter, you felt that perhaps this cold and distant North could start to feel a little more like home.
You felt so happy to have him back, enjoying his warm hands and the long conversations you shared about your childhoods. The warmth of his presence filled the room, and every moment together felt like a gift after his absence.
As you quietly contemplated the dance of the flames in the fireplace, you felt his hands wrap around you tenderly. Your back rested softly against his chest, where the steady, comforting beat of his heart resonated. You could feel his warm breath brushing against your cheek, an intimacy that enveloped you and made you forget the cold outside.
His hands, now resting on your belly, left gentle caresses, as if he wanted to connect not only with your skin but with the life growing within you. That physical connection transformed into an emotional bond, a reminder of everything you both meant to each other.
Cregan leaned his head closer, whispering soft words that resonated in your heart. "I’ve missed you," he said sincerely, his voice enveloping.
"I’ve missed you too," you admitted, feeling how vulnerability mixed with joy. "Your absence has left a difficult void to fill." The words came from you with an honesty you hadn’t felt in a long time.
As the fire continued to illuminate the room, you both shared a moment that seemed to suspend time. In those moments, every caress, every whisper was a step toward building a shared life, one that embraced the hope of a future together, filled with love and the promise of a family that, one day, could become a reality.
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