#sunset curve one shot

[theonlyonesora]

One More Hour

Max Verstappen x Reader

The sun was dipping behind the hills of Monaco, casting golden streaks across the floor of your shared apartment — though you'd barely seen Max all day.

Correction: you had seen him — or at least the top of his head — hunched over in the cockpit of his racing simulator like a man possessed, fingers flying across the wheel, eyes locked on the screen.

"Max, baby," you called from the kitchen, gently, sweetly, for the fifth time in three hours, "do you wanna take a break and eat something?"

“One more hour, liefje!” he called back, voice distracted, followed by the squeal of tires from the virtual track.

You rolled your eyes. One more hour, huh? That had been four ago.

You peeked into the gaming room, watching him for a moment — headset on, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy in that unfairly hot way — and sighed. He looked so serious. So focused. So... annoying. You decided: drastic times called for girlfriend measures.

Ten minutes later, the Twitch chat started noticing.

[User: VerstappenFever]: wait what’s that in the background [User: maxsupremacy33]: omg is that his gf??? [User: thirsttrapfr]: IS SHE IN A ROBE?? [User: ILuvMax]: what is she DOING??

“Uh, chat, I think—hold on—” Max blinked, noticing movement in his peripheral vision.

You strolled into view behind him, calm as ever, dressed in his oversized Red Bull hoodie... and nothing else, except a mischievous little smile.

"Hey," you murmured, leaning into the frame. "Your one hour is up. Again."

His brows shot up as you leaned over his shoulder, arms loosely around his neck, and pressed a kiss to the corner of his jaw.

Max turned bright red on stream.

“Babe—! I’m live—!” he said, flustered, trying not to laugh.

[User: STOPPLS]: BRO IS BLUSHINGGGG [User: whiplashqueen]: she’s got him WRAPPED 💅🏻 [User: SimpingHard4Max]: if she told me to log off I would. Immediately.

“But you're always live,” you teased, brushing your nose against his ear. “And I'm always waiting.”

He melted like butter in July.

“…Okay,” he sighed dramatically, turning to chat. “Sorry guys. I gotta go.”

[User: noooo]: DON’T LEAVE US [User: Respect]: honestly? we get it. fair. [User: GetItKing]: you W I N, maxy boy

He turned off the stream and swiveled to face you, pulling you into his lap with a groan and burying his face in your shoulder.

"You really came in here with no pants on just to bully me off Twitch?" he murmured, grinning into your skin.

You giggled. "Not just to bully. I also missed you."

Max looked up, eyes soft, thumb brushing your jaw. "You're trouble, you know that?"

"Mm. But I’m your trouble."

He kissed you slowly, like he’d just realized you were better than any sim race.

That night, you curled up together on the couch with takeout, the sunset painting the walls pink, and Max scrolling through Twitch chat highlights.

“She’s got him wrapped,” he read out loud, then glanced at you smugly. “They’re not wrong.”

You tossed a pillow at him, laughing. “Took you long enough to realize.”

.

The soft Monaco sun slipped through half-drawn curtains, washing your shared bedroom in sleepy gold. Max lay sprawled on his stomach, the sheet clinging to the dip of his waist, exposing the smooth expanse of his back and the curve of his shoulder.

You were propped up on your elbow beside him, chin resting in your hand, lazily watching the way his lashes fluttered in sleep. He was snoring — barely, but enough to make you smile.

His hair was a mess from your fingers the night before. His neck still carried faint marks, proof of the way he'd said thank you again and again after you'd pulled him from his sim seat, from the rest of the world.

You leaned over, pressing a featherlight kiss to the slope of his shoulder blade.

Max groaned softly, shifting under the sheet, his voice gravelly and half-asleep.

“…that’s cheating,” he murmured without opening his eyes.

“What is?” you asked innocently, fingers drawing slow circles into his skin.

“Waking me up with your lips like that,” he mumbled, rolling over toward you, his hand snaking around your waist, tugging you closer under the sheets. “Dangerous.”

“Oh, dangerous,” you echoed, amused, brushing your nose against his jaw. “You weren’t saying that when I—”

He cut you off with a sleepy growl and a lazy roll of his hips into yours, hardening between your thighs, “Don’t start something you can’t finish, liefje.”

“Me?” you laughed breathlessly, playing innocent even as your leg hitched over his hip. “I’m just trying to cuddle…”

Max opened one eye, brow arched. “Liar.”

“Maybe,” you whispered, dragging your lips down his neck, “but you love me anyway.”

His grip on your waist tightened. “Unfortunately, yes.”

You gasped dramatically. “Unfortunately?!”

Max flipped you onto your back in one fluid move, sheets tangling between your legs, his weight warm and heavy on top of you. “Okay, fortunately,” he amended, mouth already finding the hollow of your throat. “Very, very fortunately.”

You grinned, heart hammering as his hands wandered. “I should interrupt your streams more often.”

He chuckled low against your skin. “If this is what happens after, you’re banned from letting me finish races.”

“Oh no, Maxy,” you cooed with faux sympathy, fingers slipping into his hair, “is this your way of asking me to distract you more?”

He looked up at you, eyes burning with sleep and want. “It’s me asking you to stay right here for the rest of the damn day.”

You answered with a kiss — slow and sweet and just the beginning of something wicked.

Meanwhile… on Twitter

[User: VerstappenFever]: max hasn’t streamed in 2 days is he dead [User: thirsttrapfr]: he’s not dead. he’s just VERY alive. if u know what i mean [User: f1gossipdaily]: rumor has it he’s been “distracted” lately 😉 [User: MaxsGfSavesLives]: bless her for the content we don’t get to see 😭

[yourauthorjen]

꩜ᝰ.ᐟ YOUR CAMERA ROLL AS JOAQUIN TORRES’ GIRLFRIEND

⋆⭒˚.⋆

ever since joaquin had gifted you your first camera, the candid of photos never stopped. at first it had been a quiet gesture, something wrapped in brown paper and twine, placed beside your coffee cup one sleepy morning. you’d blinked at the unfamiliar weight of it in your hands, then up at him, confused and still halfway tangled in the blanket you had stolen from the couch.

he had bought it at the downtown store— the exact same one you had been eyeing ever since you saw it. now, you just stared down at the compact silver body of the camera, the weight of already fitting in your hands before you’d kissed him hard. the camera was pressed awkwardly between your chests, and he’d laughed against your lips, but your happiness was unmatched with your newfound joy to pass time.

after that, you took pictures of everything.the pattern of rain on the window, the soft curve of joaquin’s jawline, the way his face scrunched up in concentration when he read his file reports. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was your favourite photo subject— but he never complained. just let you click away, sometimes posing, other times just watching you with an amused expression.

"your camera’s gonna get tired of me," he teased one evening as you were sprawled out on the floor, trying to frame a shot of him stretching on the couch, hoodie riding up slightly, dim lamp casting golden light over his skin.

"that's a big fat lie," you replied stubbornly, "and we both know that."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

but that didn’t mean joaquin didn’t take his fair share of photos too.

at some point you had caught him fiddling with your camera when you had left the room, only to scroll through the roll to find several unexpected candids of you—you standing in front of a sunset, you shying away from the camera a hand covering your face, and several more of blurry polaroids of you all dressed up to go out.

he never admitted it though, just shrugged with a thoughtful smile on his face.

there were several more that night. you and joaquin had gone to a party hosted by a mutual, but several of your friends were there. one of them had taken a specific interest in your camera and wanted to take a few photos. eager to get rid of the weight of it sitting at the bottom of your bag, you handed it over and dragged joaquin onto the dance floor.

though, somewhere in the middle of that evening with drunk, neon chaos, your friend had captured a few precious moments of you and joaquin. a few shots of you playing beer pong, a few of you swaying together to the music, and your personal favourite— joaquin with his hands cupping your face as you mashed your lips against the sweet and toxic taste of his, while your fingers clung to his shirt desperate for more.

he had saved that one, tucking it into the back of his phone case.

but you adored it. you adored his smug little grin when you tugged him closer to kiss him, to feel his warmth radiate against your body, and you adored that he got you that little camera to save all the love and memories that you had together.

you cherished every photo, hanging them up on a thin pieces of string with clothing pins, and attaching it onto the wall of your living room. and sometimes joaquin would stand in front of it, admiring the row of plastic films with a small shine in his eyes. you would join him, squeezing his hand before he spun you around and pressed his mouth to your hair.

"loving you, is the best thing i've ever done."

⋆⭒˚.⋆

didn't read the note on the polaroid picture, they don't know how much i miss you.

i wish i could fly, i'd pick you up and we'd go back in time. — taylor swift, the very first night

[seafoamsol]

The best years of my life...

... what I wouldn't give to have them back.

I had the great pleasure of working with @spiderscribe on a DeadCeptor work for the @tf-bigbang, which you can (and should!) read [ HERE ]!

Details and artist commentary under the cut!

Okay, first off, I just wanna say, thank you so much to @spiderscribe for picking up my very loose scribble and taking the jump. She's an absolute champ, and I IMPLORE you to read her writing. She did a knockout job on the fic, and guaranteed, these two pieces wouldn't have been so elaborate without her. If you're a fan of deadceptor, parallels, lovers to enemies to apocalyptic teammates to ???s, I'm sure you'll find that and more in there.

[ HERE ] is the link to that, if you missed it the first time around.

The background for the supermarket was a MASSIVE undertaking. I ended up blurring it in the final to keep the dream-like quality, but there is a lot happening there! Most of the time I spent on the background was (jokingly) complaining though.

Anyone who works retail will know the agony of customer-misplaced stock. The little canisters of energon additives seem like prime candidates to be placed willy-nilly.

The little warning sign... My favorite soda, apple sidra, has a carcinogen warning, so I'm familiar with it. It was slightly surprising to me that those warnings are not countrywide, despite the fact that they very clearly say "California Proposition 65", and well. Not something else, like "Federal" or whatever.

The bags of nuts and bolts below, I asked several people what flavor they would be, and I suppose I failed in my job, because I wanted the purple to be the "regular" flavor, and the green to be the "sour". But grape and lemon-lime work as well!

The tub is full of rust-sticks. I have no idea if that came across. My friends kept calling the individually wrapped ones slim jims, which I mean, I guess!

The car batteries... My idea was that they were similar to shots, in a way? So that's how I ended up with a battery with enough terminals to rival an international airport. It's also sunset-coloured, because, I don't know, that's what Party Flavor is to me.

Okay. The second illustration. This one was a headache, mostly due to my own lack of planning, and the fact that I lost the file for... basically everything I did, including the above illustration. So it was a bit of a rush job.

The background bots started off as these very vague silhouettes, which I'm a little proud of. Look at how nice and somewhat readable they are! Okay, now what if I ruined it? What? You don't like that? That's rather unfortunate, because that's what I proceeded to do. In fact, if I take off all.. 10 or something adjustment layers, they look like this:

My process went: Shadow block> Fill rest of form> Color randomiser> Copy and skew (to populate background)> Hue adjustment> Gradient map> Fill Light> Chromatic aberration> Vignette> Levels> Curves.

The.... Magenta cube is there because due to the nature of the color randomiser, the foot had a high value, and stuck out like nobody's business in the end.

Here's what it would look like without the cube. Begone, distracting white blob! (I didn't have to worry about the lava arm because Percy happened to cover it up. What a save! But if he didn't then... there would have been a second cube.)

Basically, it was a mess. But... at least it came out fine in the end! I hope!

I'd love to have speedpaints on hand, but I was switching between CSP and PS for a good majority of the work.

I'd say that's it for these two pieces! I actually have more, but those demand more time. I'm much slower at doing inks than I am at painting, but I hope you'll get to see them soon.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami and his camera...

Note: not smut but suggestive... very domestic nanami

Masterlist Discord

Nanami never saw the point in the whole “sending nudes” thing. He found it cliché and stupid, a meaningless exchange that seemed to reduce romantic relationships to superficial transactions. He believed that there was so much more to a relationship than just sending naked photos to each other, Nanami valued the tangible, authentic moments that built a real bond between two people. And that was one of the reasons you were so drawn to him. 

He was respectful, kind, and hardworking–everything you could hope for in a man. Nanami embodied all the qualities of a perfect gentleman. And of course being in a committed relationship, it's natural to want to give your lover gifts. And so you did. One year into your relationship, you gift Nanami a camera. 

Saying he liked it was an understatement, he adored it. He started off with simple things, like taking pictures of the meals he cooked, photographs of the scenery in the backyard, especially when the stray cats came to sunbathe on his porch. However, out of all the various things he photographed, his favorite was undeniably you.

He had a way of capturing you in your most candid moments, revealing sides of you even you hadn’t seen before. Doesn’t matter if you were lost in thought reading a book by the window, laughing uncontrollably at a joke he made with his dry humor, or gazing at the sunset after he took you out to dinner, Nanami found beauty in your every expression, every gesture. His eyes, through the lens, saw you as some kind of goddess. 

Even at night, when you were all ready for bed and fast asleep, Nanami liked capturing you in those tranquil moments. Something about how peaceful you looked as you slept brought him a sense of serenity. The way your chest rises and falls softly as you breathe, the way your hair generously fanned out across the pillow, and the way the thin sheets dipped into the natural curves of your body. All these small details captivated him.

It took him a while for him to build his confidence to take those pictures while you were awake. He just couldn’t help it the day you wore that sheer nightdress to bed that one night. His jaw drops in awe as you slide into the sheets with him, his eyes not once flattering off your body. 

“What’s wrong Kento…” you ask, making yourself comfortable in bed as you notice the way he seems lost in thought. 

Kento clears his throat, snapping back to reality, picking his jaw back up as if he just realized he’d been staring for too long. "You look lovely," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "Is that a new dress?"

You smile at him and nod. You did in fact just purchase the dress, feeling the soft fabric against your warm skin. You had hoped it would catch his attention. And it definitely was working, noticing the soft red blush creeping up on his cheeks. 

You watch his eyes take in every detail of the dress. The intricate lace pattern running up the dress, the way the fabric hugs your figure just right, and the softness of it that he could only dream of touching. The way that man looked at you always made you feel special, as if you’re the only person in the world at that moment.

“May I take a picture of you?” He croaks out, his voice carrying a mix of admiration and shyness. 

“Of course,” you reply, a playful twinkle in your eyes that he catches. “But get my good side,” you tease him. 

He laughs, a soft genuine smile spreading across his face. He slowly picked up the camera from his nightstand. Lifting it to his face as you patiently waited for him to snap the shot. He looks through the viewfinder, admiring your beautiful face, taking in every small detail of your face that makes you, you.  His eyes continue trail down, lingering on the lacy neckline of the dress, adoring the way it gracefully hugs your shoulders and falls effortlessly along your frame. 

He finally presses the button to snap the picture. The sound of the shutter clicking sends a rush through his body. He looks down at the picture he had taken. It was breathtaking. You were stunning beyond belief in his eyes. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispers, almost to himself, as he lowers the camera back down. His eyes come back to meet yours and you could almost swear your heart skipped a beat. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. His hands finally resting on your body, feeling the soft fabric against it.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — glue song !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕ itoshi sae x gn!reader

contents﹕ one shot, fluff, wc: 946, proofread

the soft hum of the evening settled over madrid as you wandered through the cobblestone streets, your hand brushing against sae's every so often. it was a small, unspoken tradition for the two of you - waking aimlessly after his training sessions, letting the city's golden hour embrace the spaces where words didn't need to fill.

tonight, though, sae seemed quieter than usual. his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his coat, his usual composed expression more distant, almost heavy.

"long day?" you asked, tilting your head toward him.

he let out a soft hum, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "something like that."

you knew better than to press. sae itoshi wasn't one to unload his thoughts easily, even with you. still, his silence spoke volumes - a language you'd learned to read in the small moments you shared.

the breeze carried the faint scent of blooming jasmine, and you tugged gently on his sleeve to steer him toward the park. the flowers were just beginning to bloom, their soft petals brushing against each other like the quiet beginnings of spring.

"let's sit for a bit," you suggested, guiding him to a bench beneath a tree.

he followed without a word, sitting beside you with the quiet elegance he always carried. his shoulders were relaxed, but you could see the faint tension in his jaw.

"i saw your game last week," you began, breaking the silence. "you were amazing. as always."

he glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, almost unnoticeable smile. "you always say that."

"because it's true," you countered, nudging him lightly. "i'm your biggest fan, remember?"

his smile lingered for a second longer before fading, replaced by a thoughtful look. "it's not always as easy as it looks."

your heart ached at his words. sae itoshi was a genius, a prodigy on the field - but he was also just a boy. a boy who carried the weight, of expectations, who chased perfection in a world that demanded nothing less.

"then let me make it easier," you said softly, your hands finding his.

he turned to you, his teal eyes searching yours. for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

"how?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"by being here," you replied. "by reminding you that you're not alone."

his grip on your hand tightened, and the faintest crack appeared in his composure. sae was strong, but even he had limits. and in that moment, you saw the boy beneath the prodigy - the boy who had dreams, fears, and a heart that beat just as vulnerably as anyone else's.

"i don't know what i'd do without you," he admitted, the words heavy with sincerity.

you smiled, your thumb brushing against his knuckles. "you'd figure it out. but you don't have to."

the silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. it was the kind of silence that felt like home, like a bond unshaken by the chaos of the world.

"y/n," he said suddenly, his gaze fixed on the blooming flowers ahead. "i think about you a lot. more than i probably should."

your breath hitched, the vulnerability in his voice catching you off guard. "sae..."

"i don't say it enough," he continued, turning to face you fully. "but you're important to me. you keep me grounded when everything else feels like it's slipping away."

his confession was quiet, almost hesitant, but it carried the weight of every unsaid feeling he'd ever held.

"i love you," you whispered, the words spilling from your heart before you could stop them. "you're my glue, sae. you hold me together."

for a moment, he said nothing. then, in a rare display of emotion, he reached out, cupping your face with a gentleness that made your chest ache.

"i love you too," he said, the words soft but firm. "more than i thought i could."

the golden light of the sunset bathed the two of you in its warmth as you leaned into his touch. in that moment, there was no need for anything else - no expectations, no pressure, no words.

it was just you and sae, bound by a love that felt as unshakable as the earth beneath your feet.

later that night.

back at your shared apartment, the quiet comfort of your space enveloped you both. sae leaned against the counter, watching as you brewed tea - a ritual you insisted on whenever he came back from training.

"you're staring," you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

"can't help it," he replied, his tone soft but teasing.

you rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you handed him a steaming cup. "drink this before you get all poetic."

he took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours. "thanks."

as you settled onto the couch together, you pulled a blanket over your legs, leaning into his side. his arm found its way around you, pulling you closer.

"you're warm," you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut.

"good," he replied, his voice low. "you're always so cold."

you chuckled, the sound muffled against his shoulder. it was in these moments, when the world fell away and it was just the two of you, that you felt the depth of your connection.

"i meant what i said earlier," you whispered, your fingers tracing patterns on his arm.

"i know," he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple. "so did i."

and as the night deepened, with the city's lights casting a soft glow through the window, you drifted off in his arms, your heart full and your love unshaken.

because sae itoshi was your glue, and you were his.

a/n: first one shot lolll ; this was inspired by the song "glue song" by bea UGH I LOVE IT SM

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[lacydollette]

⋆˙⟡ BLESSING IN DISGUISE ⋆˙⟡

CHAPTER TWO

PAIRING lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

SUMMARY after reconnecting with your childhood best friend sarah, she introduces you to the pogues, and one of them definitely strikes your interest more than he should’ve

WARNING(S) slightly suggestive, jj being a flirt, kook x pogue dynamics, kie lowkey being a hater, mentions of readers and rafes past, spin the bottle, mentions of alcohol, kissing

The golden coast of Kildare Island's sunset painted the sky as Sarah guided you down the dirt path toward John B's chateau, feeling a bit anxious. After all your life wasn’t like any of theirs, and that scared you a bit. "Just... don't let JJ get to you. He's... well, you'll see." She warned you, knowing that her friend would try to hit on you every chance he got. You smirked, tucking your wavy hair behind your ear. "You're acting like I'm not used to guys like him. Trust me, I've handled worse."

Yet you couldn't stop the flood of nerves rolling through your body. Coming back to Kildare was one thing; entering the world of Sarah's pogues was another. For someone like you—Rafe’s ex, and being a "kook" in every sense of the word—this was like walking into enemy territory.

You couldn’t help but think of Rafe as you walked along the chunky trail, to him the pogues were always equal to filthy animals, so knowing that Sarah was now one of them made you curious. Of course, just like Rafe, you used to stay away from pogues, maybe with one exception, but that didn’t matter now. You were taught that your worlds shouldn’t mix, that it wouldn’t work, but knowing just how pathetic your old life was, it maybe wouldn’t be too bad of an idea.

Your little boots crunched against the gravel as you took in the sight before you: a quiet run down house that looked like it had survived one hurricane too many, mismatched furniture scattered across the yard, and a group of teens lounging in the chaos like it was their kingdom. As you stepped onto the property, a tall, blonde boy was the first to notice you, his face lighting up in surprise and excitement. He jumped down from where he'd been sitting and strode over, his grin wide.

"Dammit Sarah, if I had known that you'd bring over a goddess I would've put on less clothes." JJ drawled, his blue eyes locked on you. Now you definitely knew what Sarah was talking about. Nothing you couldn’t handle tho. Before you could respond, Sarah stepped between you, rolling her eyes. "JJ, seriously? Don't scare her off five seconds in.”

"Just being friendly," JJ said, holding his hands up in mock innocence. His eyes didn't leave yours, though, and you couldn't help the faint warmth rising in your cheeks. He was super hot. And you were definitely amused by his charm, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. "And you must be the rowdy pogue with a reputation to match." You replied smoothly. JJ seemed a bit taken aback, and his grin widened, clearly enjoying the challenge.

"Guilty as charged. But don't worry, I'm harmless... mostly."

"Come on," Sarah said, dragging you toward the group. "Before he says something even dumber." Getting closer to the group, Kiara was the first to get up. She crossed her arms over her chest, her sharp eyes piercing through you, feeling skeptical. "So, you're y/n."

"Guilty," you said, echoing JJ's words with a playful shrug. You extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you." Kiara hesitated before shaking your hand. "Yeah, nice to meet you too." Her words were clipped, and you didn't miss the side eye Kiara shot at Sarah. But you didn’t judge her, after all you were kind of skeptical too.

Luckily the rest of the introductions went smoother. Pope was polite but distracted, and John B—Sarah's new boyfriend—was laid-back and welcoming, though his smile carried a hint of curiosity, like he was trying to figure you out. But it was JJ who lingered, his gaze following your every move, his flirty comments never far behind. It felt all so exciting.

"So, y/n," JJ said as you all settled into your seats, beers in hand. "What's a kook princess like you doing slumming it with us?" Sarah shot him a warning look, but you just smirked. "Wouldn't you like to know, hm?" JJ laughed, clearly enjoying the way you confronted him, while Kiara rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath.

As the evening wore on, the tension in the air began to ease. You found yourself laughing at John B's ridiculous stories, paired with JJ's enthusiasm, and even getting a nod of approval from Pope when you mentioned your favorite book. Kiara, however, remained a mystery to you.

"Alright, truth or dare time," JJ announced suddenly, grabbing a bottle from the sand. "No backing out." Kiara groaned, “Oh, come on.” though she didn't move to leave.

The first few rounds were tame, the dares harmless and the truths revealing just enough to keep things fun. Then the bottle landed on JJ. "Oh, here we go," Pope muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

JJ leaned back, spreading his arms like he was owning the place. "Hit me, baby." He smirked, eyes locked on you as a devilishly, alcohol fueled, idea came to your mind. You just couldn’t hold back, lips curling into a mischievous smile. "I dare you to kiss me."

The whole group fell silent, every eye darting between you and JJ. Even the fire seemed to flicker in response, the crackling flames being the only sound. JJ blinked, his grin faltering for a moment. "Wait—what?"

"You heard me," you said, voice steady. Your confidence was unshaken, though your heart was pounding in your chest. You weren’t even sure where the boldness had come from, but there was no taking it back now. Sarah laughed, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, y/n."

"Bold move," JJ said, his surprise melting into amusement. "I like it." He stood, brushing the sand off his jeans, and walked over to you. The air felt electric as he crouched down in front of you, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

"You sure about this, kook girl?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Scared?" You shot back, smirk growing. JJ didn't hesitate. In one smooth motion, he closed the gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was heated, bold, and left no room for misinterpretation.

The group erupted in cheers and whistles, John B's voice cutting through the noise. "JJ, what the hell, man?" As he kissed you there was an unspoken pull, the desire obvious in both of your movements. It felt good kissing him, really good, so when he pulled back you couldn’t help but pout a little. Yet his grin was even bigger. "You asked for it."

You laughed, cheeks warm, but you didn't flinch under the group's teasing. If anything, you leaned into it, your confidence high. You hadn't expected to feel this at ease with JJ, and his charm that ran just a little wild. It was different, and strangely, you liked it.

As the game continued, the bottle spun and landed on you. Not hesitating to pick truth, knowing you couldn't dodge forever and also not wanting to be a spoilsport. Kiara, who had been quiet for most of the night, leaned forward, her expression serious. "Why did you leave Kildare?"

The question hung in the air, and your earlier smile faltered. You felt your throat tighten, glancing at the flames and wishing you could disappear into the sparks. You hadn't exactly planned on going into your past tonight.

Sensing your tension, Sarah quickly jumped in, squeezing your hand. "Y/n went through a rough time," she explained, her voice softer than usual. "There was... a lot going on, and it was all a bit much. You all know how my family can be." She paused, eyes on the fire, then added, "And, uh... y/n dating my brother didn't help. It got... toxic, real fast."

Everyone went quiet, and you felt their eyes on you, shock written across their faces. Yup, somehow it’s always been a shocker for others when they found out you two used to date, cause now you both couldn’t be any more different from each other. Or weren’t you?

"You... and Rafe?" Kiara's voice was laced with surprise, though it held a hint of understanding now—maybe even sympathy. "Seriously?" You nodded slowly, not meeting anyone's gaze. "Yeah. It's not something I'm proud of. Trust me." You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of those words as you admitted them out loud. "I lost myself for a while. Leaving was the only way. I needed to figure myself out."

JJ was the first to break the silence. "Hey, everyone's got stuff they're not proud of." He shrugged, as if to say it didn't matter to him. "At least you're here now, right?" You managed a grateful smile, feeling some of the tension ease. The group smiled gently, their earlier reservations melting away. And somehow exposing yourself like that definitely made you feel good, the pogues giving you a feeling of security, treating you with a newfound gentleness.

As the fire died down, everyone began to yawn and stretch, the long hours of the day catching up with you, so John B offered to drive you, Pope and Kie home. While the two boys piled into the van, Kiara lingered for a moment, pulling you aside as you were about to walk up to the vehicle.

"Hey," Kiara said quietly. "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. For being shady earlier. And for pushing you with that question." You blinked, definitely not expecting an apology from her. "It's okay. I get it—you didn't know." Kiara nodded, her expression softening. "Yeah, but still. You're not what I expected, but... you're cool. I'm glad you're here." You smiled, the words meaning more than you cared to admit. "Thanks, Kie."

As you climbed into the van, you felt something shift inside you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you might actually belong somewhere.

LINKS .ᐟ series masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @bunnyrafe @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @rafesweetie @rafeslacy @rafesangelita @rafey-baby @starkeydolly @moremaybank @drewspinkbunny @drewsarms

[raya-hunter01]

Crawlin'

Jey Uso One-shot

Jey Uso x OC (Lana)

Warning: Smut, fingering, Oral, chair sex and fluff.

Words: 3,345

Jey Uso’s girlfriend, Lana, is at his side as WWE cameras follow him for the week as he gets ready to challenge for the WWE World Heavyweight Championship at WrestleMania. Lana, overwhelmed by the cameras and tries to sneak out while Jey is filming, but he has plans for her after seeing her outfit.

Fontainebleau Hotel, Las Vegas

Jey's Suite

"The wrestling ring is a cute touch," Lana said, walking past Jey as his eyes lingered on her momentarily before he walked over to put down his key and looked at the wrestling ring closely.

“Oh, damn it’s a cake,” Jey whispered before taking a bite out of one chocolate-covered strawberries as Lana looked around the extravagant suite.

“Jey, this is too much, you sure we're in the right place?” Lana whispered off-camera, exploring the suite WWE had gotten Jey for his week's stay in Vegas.

Jey turned to the cameraman, Jerry, who had been shadowing him since Monday. "I really appreciate this, it’s fire," he said with a wide smile, his eyes gleaming in disbelief.

They had been filming Jey's WrestleMania diary these last few days, capturing every moment of his journey to the biggest night in professional wrestling, WrestleMania.

Jey continued to showcase their suite, his nervousness and excitement warming Lana's heart as she shot him a final glance before retreating into the bedroom to take a breather. This was her man's moment, so she was trying her hardest to get over her camera shyness.

This weekend was important to Jey, and he made it clear he wanted her with him in every sense of the word, so that was what she was going to do.

Jerry was nice after Jey told him about her uneasiness about being on camera, and he implemented breaks for her and even shot around her some. Leaving them to their mini diary. Lana went to freshen up and slipped into her new sundress. She was going to meet up with Trin for a late lunch to get a break from the camera.

She let her hair down and checked herself over in the mirror. The dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and she knew it would drive Jey crazy. She wanted to give him something to think about and rile him up a little. 

“I’m just in the moment,” Jey said as Lana made her presence felt, coming back into the living room area, waving at him, pointing towards the door to indicate she was about to leave.

Jey froze, his eyes wide as saucers. He had seen Lana in a hundred different outfits, but something about this one just hit differently. He began stumbling over his words, the blush creeping up his cheeks as he rubbed his hand up his arm. “It’s about being just present most of the time, damn,” he paused entranced momentarily by Lana before continuing. “'Cause all this can go away next week or whatever.”

Jey’s eyes shifted again to Lana and back to the camera several times. The camera crew didn't miss a beat, turning the camera towards Lana briefly before going back to Jey.  In a way, letting the world know what had him so crossed up as he talked to them.

“I’mma just enjoy the ride.”

 As Jerry yelled, “Cut.” Jey smiled, “Thanks, Uce, cause I know you see my lady ova there lookin’ good. We need some alone time…Bad.”

“Jey quit it,” Lana laughed as he shrugged his shoulders.

“Just being honest, La.”

 Jerry gave Jey a knowing look, packed up his equipment, and headed towards the door. “Give us an hour,” Jey said as he nodded, shutting the door behind him.

 The room felt suddenly more intimate as Jey walked over to Lana, wrapping his arms around her waist, preventing her from leaving. “I gotta go, baby,” Lana moaned as he kissed her.

His lips pressed against hers with a passion that could have set the Sunset Strip on fire. When they parted, Lana was breathless, her eyes sparkling with unbridled passion.

"Where you think you're going, dressed like this?" Jey teased, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "You tryin’ to have all of Vegas at your feet, huh?”

"I’m just having a late Lunch with Trin," she replied, her voice low and playful. “Before the weekend goes bananas, you know how it is. Plus, I know the jeweler is coming to show you some pieces, and I didn't want to get in the way."

Jey nodded, his smile softening. "You ain't neva in the way, baby. I told him to bring a couple of pieces for you too, so you could have stayed." He wanted her to know that she didn't have to leave, but he also knew how important it was for her to have her own space.

He was happy she had Trin to hang out with before her own schedule got hectic. She was producing the triple-threat match between Rhea, Bianca, and Iyo for night two.

"Well, pick me out something, I trust you. I don't want to be late," she said, putting the spare key in her purse.

“One more for the road,” Jey whispered, pulling her back for one more kiss. This time, deeper and more intense. Lana moaned, her body melting against him.

When they parted, she took a step back, her breath ragged. "I'll be back soon," she murmured, her hand lingering on his chest before she turned to leave.

"Why you runnin’ off?" he teased, his voice dropping to a gruff purr.

“I told you, I’m meeting, Trin,” she said by the front door, knowing she needed to leave before she lost her nerve, especially after that kiss.

"Aye, c’mere, Ma."

A shiver danced down her spine as she felt her cheeks heating up. He had that effect on her and could make her feel like the most desired woman in the world with just a few words. She took another step towards the door, her hips swaying slightly.

"Don’t play wit me, turn round," he murmured, as she turned to face him, his eyes darkened as he bit back a groan. "C’mere, La.”

Lana did as he asked, walking slowly towards him, her heart racing. “Yeah….Take yo' time... Let me see dem hips, swayin’ in dat dress." His muscular arms crossed over his broad chest as he leaned against the pool table, admiring her.

 His eyes never leaving hers as Lana took her sweet time. "That's it," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Come to Daddy."

Lana felt a thrill at his words, a mix of power and vulnerability. She was in charge here, setting the pace, and as she reached him, she knew she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Jey grabbed her waist, spinning her so she was pressed against the cool surface of the pool table. "I got plans for you," he murmured, his breath hot against her neck. "But first, you need to show me what you wearin’ under dat dress."

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip to stifle a giggle. He was always so direct, so unapologetic about his desires. It was one of the things she loved most about him. "Jey," she admonished playfully, "You're going to make me late."

He leaned in, his teeth grazing her ear. “Ion care, Trin can wait.”

"Well, Trin does be late sometimes," Lana said, knowing if push came to shove, there was no way she was going to deny him.

“Mmhm, she be late as hell, so you can stay a few more minutes wit me, Ma,” he whispered, as Lana glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But I should probably get going,” she moaned.

"You mine, right?" Jey asked, his grip on her hips tightening, ignoring her fake pleas that she had to leave. His dark eyes searched hers, a hint of possessiveness in his gaze.

She nodded as her heart fluttered in her chest, her thighs pulsing, knowing she was in for it. “Nah, say you mine.”

 "Yes, Daddy, I’m yours" she whispered, her voice barely audible. He leaned in, his teeth grazing her neck gently.

"Good girl, don't ever walk away from me again when I’m admirin’ you." he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. A shiver of desire shot through her body.

With a final nip, Jey stepped back, a smug smile playing on his lips. Lana's breath caught in her throat, and she nodded again, unable to form words.

 “Damn, you look so good La.” Jey leaned back in, unable to control himself, his nose brushing against hers as he whispered, “You look like you taste good too." Her eyes fluttered shut, a wave of heat washed over her whole body as his hands trailed up her thighs.

 "You gon' let Daddy have a taste?"

"Yes," Lana breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. It was all the invitation he needed. His lips found hers again, this time with a desperate intensity that left her knees weak.

Jey stepped back, his eyes scanning her body hungrily once again. "Take dat dress off, Ma," he demanded. His voice thick with desire, "Show Daddy what's his."

Her hands trembled slightly as she took a deep breath easing the straps of her dress down, revealing inch by inch of her curvy figure.

As the dress pooled around her ankles, Jey's gaze lingered on her, licking his lip. “Matter fact, take it all off,” he ordered as Lana reached behind her back and made quick work of her bra and then her underwear.  “Jey-”

“Damn, La. I Can’t believe you really all mine.”

Lana blushed, reaching up to cover her breasts and her stomach, but Jey wasn’t it.  “Don’t do dat.”

“Jey, you know-”

 "I know, but Ion want you to do dat. Don’t hide from me, Lana," he murmured, his voice a gentle command as she reluctantly moved her hands blushing.

 “La, I luv everything bout you, Ma… You perfect."

Lana smiled as Jey stepped closer, taking her hand in his. "Now, go sit back in dat chair." He nodded towards the recliner, the plush fabric beckoning. "And spread dem legs for Daddy."

With a shy smile, Lana did as he asked, feeling a thrill of power at his words. She sat in the enormous chair, her legs spread wide, and the cool air of the suite brushing against her heated skin.

"Happy WrestleMania weekend to me," Jey murmured, taking his shirt, sinking to his knees, his eyes never leaving hers. He knew what teasing her would do, and he loved it.

 He knew shivers ran down her spine every time he came out on TV teasing her, showing the world just how much of an eater he was.

“Daddy, wanna eat dat pretty pussy so bad, I’m on my knees, Mama. Can I have it?” Jey asked as Lana whimpered.

"Yes, show me how bad you want to eat it, Daddy… Mmm, crawl for it," Lana purred, her voice dripping with desire. Her shyness was long gone as she watched him through hooded eyes as Jey licked his lips in anticipation.

"You know Ion mind crawlin' for what's mine, Lana," he groaned, his voice dropping an octave as he admired her, still rooted to the same spot on his knees.

"Mmm, I know," she murmured, the sight of him on his knees, the power she had over him, was intoxicating.

 “I’m comin’ La and I’m finna eat yo’ ass up, you know dat right?”

 Lana bit her lip, watching as Jey planted his hands as he slid across the floor, his muscular body moving with a predatory grace.

“Yes, Daddy, come and get it…. Fuck, you look so good on your knees crawlin’ to me,” Lana moaned accidently closing her legs trembling watching him.

“Nuh-uh…… Open dem legs back up, this what you wanted, right? Me on my knees feenin’ for dat pussy, right?”

“Mmm, fuck yes,” she whispered entranced as grasped her legs, his voice low and possessive, “Den open’em.”

Lana moaned in anticipation, her legs parting like the Rea Sea, bending each knee over the arms of the recliner not needing to be told again.

“Mmhm, my good, good girl….Yea, open up for Daddy and let him eat his pretty pussy,” his tongue tracing patterns on her inner thighs that had her squirming.

“Please-”

 "Yea…..You want it bad don’t you? You want daddy all up in his pussy fuckin’ you wit his tongue till you cum?" he murmured against her skin, his breath and beard tickling.

 "Yes," she moaned, her voice strained.  “Tell me how you luv Daddy’s tongue,” Jey whispered with a smirk between her thighs, his gaze possessive as she trembled with need.

“I love it so much!” Lana cried out as Jey kissed and nipped at her inner thighs getting closer to his prize. “Mmm, please,” her pleas music to his ears. “Eat your pussy Daddy, please stop teasin’ me."

Jey didn’t hesitate, opening his mouth, flattening his tongue as he began his mission to make her lose her shit.  His tongue sliding against her clit continuously with such power Lana’s soul almost left her body.

“O- Oh…Oh, S-s-shit,” Lana gasped bucking against him as he chuckled pushing her back down.

 “Mmhm, told yo’ ass I was comin’..Ion even know why you play wit me..Sweet ass pussy,” Jey groaned pushing her legs further apart before engulfing her pussy in his mouth, like a starved man craving to have his thirst quenched.

 "Jey," she whimpered, "Oh god, Jey."

His grip on her hips tightened, keeping her in place as she began to buck against his mouth. The chair creaked beneath her, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the sweet, sweet pressure building within her.

“Baby, it’s too much,” she cried out pushing at his shoulders.

"Nah, don't run," he murmured looking up at her, his voice muffled by her flesh. "You said you wanted Daddy to eat it his pussy.  So, stop runnin', be yo ass still, and let me eat my pussy."

“I’m sorry Daddy,” Lana moaned, her nails digging into Jey's scalp as she tried to hold on to any shred of control she had left but it was no use. As soon as he sped up his ministrations, flicking and swirling his long tongue against her clit in a counterclockwise, clockwise rhythm it was a wrap as intense waves of pleasure began building as she climbed higher and higher.

“Don’t stop-”

“Yea, I feel it..I know you right there, I ain’t stoppin’ Ma,” Jey groaned as he slid two thick fingers inside her, his tongue still devouring her. Lana’s breath hitched as he curled them in just the right way against her G-spot over and over again, in tune with his tongue.

"Oh, fuck," she moaned, riding his face as he moaned against her, the vibrations sending another jolt through her body.

"Mmhm, you bout to come for daddy," he groaned, his voice thick with satisfaction.

“Yes..Yes..Mmm, fuck yes.”

"Give it to me," he demanded, his eyes burning into hers. "Come on, baby, let it go."

With a final, desperate whine, Lana came. Her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, as Jey drew out every last drop of pleasure from her trembling body.

As she came down from her unbelievable orgasm, she collapsed against the chair, her chest heaving. "Baby," she murmured, her voice shaky and legs still trembling, "That was...Oou, fuck.”

“Yea, I know, mama,” Jey chuckled, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Mmm, I could stay down here all night, but I know we ain’t got time,” he whispered, kissing his way up her body, savoring the taste of her on his lips, his body pressing against hers.

 "I love how you taste," he murmured against her mouth, his voice a low rumble as Lana moaned, her hands moving to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he claimed her lips in a passionate kiss.

Her eyes went wide with surprise as she felt the hot, thick pressure of him at her entrance as he slipped the thick mushroom tip inside her. "Jey," she gasped, her body tensing.

"Surprise, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with dark amusement. "I know you ain’t think you was leavin’ this room without me dickin’ you down after seein’ you in dat dress?"

With a snap of his hips, Jey entered her. Lana's screams were muffled by his kiss. Her body arched against him in shock and pleasure as he didn't give her time to adjust, immediately setting a punishing pace that had her drunk in love with him.

The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the suite. She could feel every inch of him, his dick stroking against her g-spot with an expertise that left her quivering.

“ B-baby, f-uh- Fuck, Mmhm!”

"Yeah, you like dat don’t you? Got yo ass tremblin’ n shit, dat dick feel good, don’t it?" he growled, as Lana whined.

"Talk to me, Ma..Do it feel good? Let Daddy know."

"Jey, oh my god, yes," she cried against his lips, her nails digging into his skin. He didn't slow, didn't ease up, his movements relentless and powerful as he claimed her lips again, taking her breath away.

 "Fuck, you feel and taste so good, I can’t get enough." He panted heavily, breaking their kiss as Lana fought to catch her breath.

 "You mine, Lana..Say dat shit," he groaned, his own body on edge.

“I’m yours,” she moaned as Jey released the breath he was holding. "Mmmhm, and since you mine, you know I ain't pullin' out.. You know dat shit, right?"

“Yes, I don't want you too,” Lana moaned, the possessiveness in his voice sent another wave of arousal crashing over her. “Uh, give me dat dick, shit,” she gasped, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, urging him deeper.

Her wetness surrounding his dick as he claimed her. “Gotdam here it go, fuck La. Dat pussy wet as fuck and jus grippin' daddy, look baby,” Jey groaned as they looked down together, turned on watching his dick piston in and out of her.  “Shit!" Lana gasped as Jey's face lit up in satisfaction at what was about to happen.

“Yea, you ready ain’t you, Ma? Mmhm, I know you ready.”

“Yes, I need it!” Lana cried out as Jey claimed her lips again. The room a blur of pure passion as the chair creaked under the strain, but neither of them cared. This was their moment, their time to claim each other before the chaos of WrestleMania weekend.

“You luv me?” Jey asked, moaning into their kiss, his tongue dueling with hers as he held himself up, one hand on the chair's arm and the other, above her head, grabbing the base of the chair for leverage.

“Yes, I love you so much,” Lana gasps as his powerful thrusts took her breath away. She met his eyes, her pupils blown with lust. "Shit, you fuckin’ me so good, Jey…Mmm, always," she praised, her voice raw.

He grinned against her mouth, his teeth grazing her lower lip. "Cause’ this the best pussy Ion ever had, La," he murmured truthfully, his voice a low rumble.

“Yea?”

"Mmhm, pussy so good, got me sprung, Ma. Be dreamin’ bout fallin’ asleep in it when I ain’t wit you." His words sent another jolt of desire through her body as she whimpered. “Mmm, fuck.”

The sound of their skin slapping together filled the suite, her hips bucking wildly against his as Jey's eyes rolled back in his head. His own pleasure mounting with every deep stroke. He felt her pussy tighten around him so tight it took his breath.  

“Gotdamn…Fuck, cum for Daddy, baby" he hissed, and she did, her body shuddered as she let go, her juices gushing out of her and coating his dick. "Fuck," she gasped, her eyes squeezed shut, pulling him closer as he pulled out.

His dick glistening with her essence as he smacked it against her clit setting her body on fire, making her jump. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice gruff.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his intense gaze. "Please," she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. "Cum inside me."

Jey's control snapped as he slammed back into her, his own ending near, he couldn’t hold it anymore as a primal growl escaped his lips, "My pussy."

Her walls tightened around him, her still body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Yes, Daddy, it's yours," she whimpered, her eyes never leaving his. His thrusts, more frantic and harder.

"You want Daddy's nut?" he panted as Lana cried out.

"Yes," her voice hoarse. "I want it all."

“Fuck, i'mma give it all to ya…. Every last fuckin’ drop…Ah shit, here it go,” and with a roar, Jey came inside her as she fell over the cliff of ecstasy once more screaming his name, their chests heaving as they stared into each other's eyes coming down from their moment of passion and clarity.

"Happy WrestleMania weekend, La," Jey murmured, his voice filled with love and lust as their lip met again.

"Happy WrestleMania week, baby."

The End

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[barcapix]

I’ve read your hector fort headcanons and I thought the canon with him being trained to take pictures of reader was really cute!!

Maybe a fic based around that? Thank you

✮ Digital Picturesque - Hector Fort

hector fort x fem!reader

sy: with nobody else available, but in desperate need, you suffice in letting your seriously inexperienced boyfriend snap pictures of you, who claims to be an expert.

a/n: IM FINALLY GETTING THROUGH THE REQS so thanks for ur patience ! (let’s ignore how this is a reupload btw)

warnings: noope.

“hector, no. you have to do it like this,” a sigh escaped your lips as you approached him, fixing his hands so he could hold the camera correctly. “and don't forget the right lighting.”

it was that time of year again—your annual spring beach shoot, a tradition as essential as the first mango sorbet of the season.

the sundress you wore, white and airy, clung to every curve of your body, as the soft tropical wind kissed your skin. the beach was alive with a harmony of the afternoon waves and distant laughter but right now, it was just you, a camera and your boyfriend who swore he knew what he was doing.

hector tilted his head, an easy smile grazing his lips. “you know it's impossible to get a bad picture of you.”

your boyfriend reached out, his palm resting on the lower part of your back to guide you closer to him, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “flattery isn't going to make you a better photographer, hector.”

“maybe not, but it doesn’t hurt.” he said with all seriousness, his hazel eyes catching the sunlight.

his fingers lingered for a second, tracing the edge of your dress where it cut out an oval on your back, just enough for you to feel the soft pressure.

you fought to keep your focus, nudging his arm lightly before stepping back into position. “just take the picture, would you?”

you stepped back onto the warm shoreline, your hands tangling up into your hair as the wind hit them, whilst your bare feet sunk into the damp sand.

the sunset turned the ocean into a molten gold backdrop—if only you prayed your self proclaimed expert photographer could capture it right.

but of course, hector was taking forever.

you shifted your gaze to him, just in time to catch him peeking over the lens—not even trying to hide the fact he was staring.

“what? do i have something on my face?” you lift up your hand, smearing it across your cheek.

“no just—” he shrugged, changing the focus.

hector pursed his lips into a thin line, like he wanted to say something else but instead lifted the camera again, adjusting the angle like you’d shown him. but you could still see the hesitation in his eyes. “what if i mess it up?”

“then i'll make you take a hundred more until you get it right,” you teased. “we’ve already tried it.”

he chuckled, finally snapping a few pictures. “i think that's just an excuse to spend more time with me.”

you scoffed, but the way your lips twitched betrayed you. “just show me the pictures, romeo.”

the brunette lowered the digital camera as you peered around his shoulder. your eyes scanned over the screen, scrolling through the shots. to your surprise, some were… worthy.

“okay, not terrible,” you admitted, tilting the camera slightly. “this one's actually kinda cute.”

the spaniard took great pride from your acknowledgment, as he turned his head around to you, with a small indignant grin. “see? told you it's impossible to get a bad picture of you.”

“you're so cheesy, you know? how did i let you come along with me?” you replied with flushed cheeks.

“but you’re the one still standing here,” he mused, his lips brushing the top of your head in a tender kiss. it was quick—almost like a habit—but it made your heart flutter nonetheless. “which means you secretly love it. but mostly me.”

you huffed, shoving the device back into his hands. “just don't mess up next time.”

“whatever you say, bonita.”

hector adjusted the shot again, taking his time—way too much time. he squinted at the screen like he was composing some masterpiece, his tongue peeking out in full concentration before finally pressing the shutter.

“you know, overthinking it won't magically make you better.” you pointed out and let your stance relax.

he glanced up with a cocky sneer. “oh, but natural talent will.”

you rolled your eyes. “bold of you to assume you have that.”

he ignored the insult, stepping closer and flipping the screen around. “alright, go ahead. tell me this one isn't perfect.”

you looked at the screen, tilting your head. okay, maybe it was decent. the angle wasn’t awful, the lighting was actually flattering and—fine—you didn’t look like you'd just rolled out of bed.

you hummed, pretending to consider. “it's… fine.”

hector scoffed, placing a hand on his chest like you’d just deeply offended him. “fine? this is art.”

you bit back a smile. “if by ‘art,’ you mean ‘passable at best,’ then sure.”

“your so stubborn,” he grinned, shaking his head, “you just don't wanna admit i'm getting good. better than berta, even.”

“when you do get good, i'll let you know,” you countered, taking the camera from him. “until then, we keep practicing.”

he let out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his hair. “if i didn’t know any better, i'd think you just like bossing me around.”

“and if you were any smarter, you’d stop complaining and start paying attention.” you taunted, setting your hands on your hips for the next shot.

hector zoomed in further using the camera again, the faded sunlight painting him saffron as he aimed the lens.

“oh, don’t worry, amor,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “i’m paying very, very close attention.”

[starkeymeow]

plot ── after you undergo a procedure to erase rafe from your memory, rafe, devastated by the realization, decides to do the same, only to find himself fighting to hold onto the love you shared, proving that some connections can never truly be forgotten.

content ── softer rafe & reader dynamic in here than weve seen (just because i needed them to connect here), but beach getaway flashback!! yayy

authors note ── remember we left off with “what was ur happiest memory?” on the last chapter !! if ud still like to be part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs <3

* italic text = present!rafe talking to hartwell about the question / happiest memory story

main masterlist | previous

“there was this secluded beach, like a . . . hidden spot on the island that i wanted to take her to.”

the sound of the tires humming over the road, the occasional thud of a passing pothole, was the only thing filling the silence of the truck. rafe’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel lazily, keeping the rhythm with the song that played on the radio.

he didn’t need to check on you. he could hear your soft breathing, steady, peaceful. you’ve always fallen asleep in the truck with ease. it’s the kind of sleep that came with trust, the kind that made rafe feel like maybe this was all just normal for you. comfortable. safe.

the wind blew through the slightly cracked window, ruffling his hair, tugging at his shirt. he could feel the pull of the sunset coming through the rearview mirror, lighting up the sky in an almost electric orange, brushing against the horizon. he loved moments like this, moments where everything felt like it was just right. even if he couldn’t figure out what exactly was right about it.

and then, the soft stir from beside him. the kind of stirring that made rafe grin without even realizing it. it was like the truck had a way of waking you up from naps, whether you liked it or not.

your arm shifted slightly, lazily stretching out of the window, your fingers dancing against the air, feeling the wind rush by. he could hear you breathing, and then, after a beat, a small grin spread across your face. you slowly lifted your head, peering at him over your shoulder, all half-lidded eyes and sleepy smiles.

“you know, i’m not sure how i feel about you taking me to a secret spot,” you said. “what if it’s a bad secret, rafe?”

“why the fuck would it be a bad secret?” he replied, pulling the truck into a slight curve in the road. “it’s a good one. trust me. you’ll like it.”

“mhm. we’ll see,” you teased, half-turning in your seat, your fingers still moving in the breeze. “you always promise things like that. last time you said a beach was ‘super secluded’ and it turned out to be packed with tourists.”

rafe rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched up. “they don’t count as tourists when they’re locals,” he shot back, though it lacked the usual bite.

you scoffed, but your grin stayed. “right, right. locals.” you leaned your elbow against the car door, the motion smooth, like you’d done it a thousand times before. “i don’t know, rafe . . . you're gonna have to prove it’s worth it.”

he could feel the tension of his day fade just a little bit, easing into the flow of the conversation. “yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his eyes still focused on the road, “you’ll see. trust me.”

you made a soft sound, something between a hum and a sigh. it was a sound that made his chest tighten just a little bit. “i trust you,” you said after a beat, quiet but honest.

rafe shifted his eyes to you for a moment, catching the way your hair fell across your face, your skin glowing with the soft reflection of the sunset. he didn’t want to break the moment.

you both fell into a comfortable silence then, not an uncomfortable one, but a quiet that felt more like you didn’t need to say anything.

the wind picked up slightly, and you didn’t seem to mind. the sun dipped lower in the sky, the orange glow growing warmer as it painted the world in hues of pink and gold. rafe knew you were almost there. just a little longer. it was always moments like these that made him feel like everything could be perfect. at least for a while.

“it was like one of those weeks where everything that could go wrong, did. we both needed a break, and fast. i figured we had to go somewhere . . . somewhere we could just forget about everything for a while.”

you were already running ahead before rafe had even fully parked the truck, a big blanket tucked tightly against your chest. you could practically hear the excitement in the way you moved. there was no hesitation, no time for anything else. you were off, sprinting ahead through the soft sand, and rafe couldn’t help but shake his head, a smile tugging at his lips as he followed behind, two bags of snacks and drinks dangling from his arms.

he’d parked the truck right on the edge of the beach, just a little away from the waterline. no people, no parking lot. just sand and sea, stretching out into nothing. it felt like the kind of place no one would think to come, and rafe loved that about it.

when he caught up to you, you were already trying to set up the blanket, tugging it out onto the sand, but your impatience got the better of you. with a frustrated huff, you tossed one corner down only for the whole blanket to flop in an uncoordinated heap.

before you even had a chance to complain, you were running back to him, your grin wide and uncontainable, like you couldn’t wait another second.

“you seriously can’t even set up a blanket?” rafe teased.

you didn’t waste any time, leaping into his arms, catching him by surprise. the bags he was carrying dropped onto the sand with a soft thud as he caught you, lifting you up by your legs. he adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable.

he looked into your eyes, something unreadable flickering there before a faint smirk tugged at his mouth. my girl, he thought to himself, but then you squirmed in his arms, the shift of energy between the two of you snapping him back into the moment.

“so,” you started, looking up at him with mischief written all over your face, “what are we doing first? you get first pick, or am i making the call?”

rafe rolled his eyes. “you’re gonna make me go first, huh?” he said, his voice teasing. “fine, if i get first pick, i say we both go into the water.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms and looking like you were about to challenge him. “you mean, you want to throw me into the water, right? that’s your big move, huh?”

“well . . .” he chuckled, “you are light. wouldn’t take much.”

your eyes narrowed immediately. “oh, trust me," you said, “i would rather shit in my hands and clap than let you throw me into that water.”

rafe laughed out loud, shaking his head. “baby, you’re disgusting,” he muttered, though his smile only grew wider. “but fine, i get it. no throwing you in the water. for now.”

you shot him a look, a challenge in your eyes. “don’t forget, you still owe me for that time you pushed me off the dock. this is just payback for that.”

he smirked at you, still holding you up easily, letting you squirm in his arms as though you could escape if you tried. “i owe you nothing. that was a fair trade.”

you scoffed, twisting a little in his hold as if to break free, but he wasn’t about to let you go just yet. “whatever, rafe. just wait,” you murmured. “i’ll get you back for that one day.”

rafe didn’t take you seriously, though, his smile only deepening. “i’m counting on it.”

you just shook your head, the two of you falling into a rhythm of small, teasing jabs, back and forth as natural as breathing. the tension between you two wasn’t just playful; it was a kind of familiarity, the kind of easy rhythm only people who’d been together for a while knew.

as he finally set you down, you reached over to grab the blanket and toss it properly onto the sand, a little more carefully this time. rafe moved behind you, unwrapping the snacks he’d brought. the moment felt light, like you both had nowhere else to be, and the day could stretch on forever.

still, he couldn’t shake that nagging feeling in the back of his mind. this was the kind of peace he wanted to hold onto, the kind that made him forget about all the things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

eventually you kicked your shoes off with a grin, tossing them to the side before grabbing the sandwich from your lap and sinking back onto the blanket, back-first. you stretched out, adjusting your position to get comfortable, sandwich in both hands, and took a big bite.

you glanced over at rafe, who was still unpacking and cracking open a can of beer.

“you know,” you started, mouth full but still able to talk clearly, “i heard from john b that topper showed up at his party, like, totally uninvited.” you shrugged, chewing the bite as you laid back, your legs crossed over each other. “he’s crazy. like, why even show up if you know you're just gonna make a scene?”

rafe leaned back against the truck, taking a long drink from his beer and nodding lazily, eyes flicking to you. “sounds like some drama you’d love,” he teased, his voice laid-back and low.

you shrugged again, taking another bite. “honestly, i’m just curious. i’m not like, obsessed with it or anything.” you bit into the sandwich and chewed thoughtfully for a second. “but it’s funny how people act like they have some ownership over a situation just because they’ve been in it longer or whatever. like, do they really think they can just show up and stir things up?”

rafe sat down on the blanket next to you, still keeping his distance, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. he tilted his head, narrowing his eyes at you in that way he did when he was trying to figure you out. “you talk like you’re an expert in the whole ‘drama’ thing,” he said, half-mocking, half-serious.

“what can i say? i know how to handle a mess when i see one,” you smirked, tapping your fingers against the sandwich wrapper before putting it down on the blanket. you laid there for a few seconds, just staring up at the sky as if in deep thought, before something shifted in your mind.

you rolled onto your stomach, turning your head so that you were looking straight at rafe. “you know,” you started again, voice much more serious this time, “we should do something. like, a getaway.”

rafe raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his beer but not responding immediately. you could tell he was a little confused, but you pressed on.

“what do you mean, a getaway?” he asked, half-smiling, as if trying to figure out what you meant by it.

you gave him a look, a mix of determination and playful seriousness. “you know, like . . . another trip, but like, an actual one. just us. somewhere we can just, like, reset or whatever. we’ve had one hell of a week, and i think it would be nice to just—” you paused, biting your lip for a moment, “—go somewhere else, just for a couple of days, you know?”

rafe stayed silent for a while, his brow furrowing slightly as he thought about it. you could see the gears turning in his head, the kind of hesitation that made you wonder if he wasn’t entirely sure what you were getting at. you let him stew in it for a moment, rolling back onto your back, your gaze still fixed on the sky.

finally, rafe sighed, running a hand through his hair before he shifted on the blanket. “you always want to get away. i mean, i get it, this whole thing is a bit much, but you know—”

you didn’t let him finish, cutting him off with a grin. “it’s not like we’re running away from everything. i just think we need it. you need it too. it’s been a week. hell, it’s been a month.”

rafe was quiet again, and for a second you thought he was going to shoot down the idea. but then, slowly, he sat up, setting his beer down next to him on the sand. without saying another word, he laid back down beside you, parallel to your body but facing the opposite way, his head tilted to the sky, just like you.

you looked over at him from your upside-down vantage point, catching the faintest trace of a smile on his face, the kind that was rare, but always there when he wasn’t trying to hide it. his eyes were closed for a moment as he settled into the sand, his body relaxed but not entirely at ease. the soft rustling of the wind was the only sound between you, and for once, it felt like you didn’t need to fill the silence.

“so,” you said again, breaking the quiet, “where would you go?”

rafe didn't answer right away, and you could feel the weight of it, the way he was still mulling it over. finally, he turned his head just slightly so that his eyes met yours, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a small smile.

“maybe somewhere far,” he said, voice almost contemplative. “somewhere . . . where nobody knows us.”

you grinned at him, your heart lifting a little. “obviously, but no, that sounds perfect,” you said softly, letting your eyes drift back up to the sky.

the two of you laid there, side by side, the setting sun painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. the world felt smaller here, the worries of the day slipping away with every breath. you didn’t have to say anything more. at least not yet.

but after a few silences, you could tell he was getting uncomfortable. you knew him well enough to recognize it. rafe didn’t like being still for too long. he usually gets bored and antsy when there’s nothing to distract him. it’s not a bad thing, but when he’s quiet for too long, you know it’s only a matter of time before he’s about to make some dumb joke or break the tension in some way.

you rolled up the sandwich wrapper in your hands and tossed it aside into one of the bags, your eyes glancing over to where rafe’s laying back on the blanket, staring up at the sky. you decided it was time to shake things up.

“get up,” you said.

he didn’t move at first. just stared at you, confused, maybe even a little disgusted, but you knew it wasn’t real disgust. it was more like he had no clue what you were up to. “what?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“get up, come on,” you repeated, now standing and pulling your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the sand. you tossed it aside without looking at him, already feeling the cool evening air on your skin.

he stayed where he was, still lying back, but now he was just watching you with a little more caution in his eyes. then, you pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it to the side too, your movements casual like it was no big deal. you knew exactly what you were doing. he watched you for a moment, silence between you both. his expression shifted from confusion to hesitation as you unbuttoned your shorts next.

“what are you doing?” he finally asked, a little too seriously for your taste, but you didn’t pause.

“we’re going skinny dipping,” you said with a grin, your voice almost teasing. “running into the water, no clothes. that’s the rule.”

rafe’s eyes widened for a split second, and then he leaned up, sitting back. “are you out of your mind?” he said, voice cracking a little with disbelief. “it’s freezing cold out here, y/n. there’s no way i’m—”

but before he could finish his sentence, you lunged forward, grabbing his arm with purpose, pulling him up to his feet. “come on, rafe. lighten up,” you said. “it’ll be fun.”

he glanced down at the water in the distance, eyes narrowing. the sound of the waves crashing against the shore seemed to mock his hesitation. he looked back at you, and you could see the battle waging inside him. he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take the plunge. but you weren’t letting go.

“you’re crazy,” he muttered under his breath, clearly not convinced.

you tugged harder, pulling his arm toward the edge of the sand, your own heart pounding with excitement. “you don’t know what fun is until you try it,” you teased. “don’t be such a baby.”

he stayed frozen for a moment longer, fighting the urge to just sit back down and roll his eyes at you, but eventually, he gave in, and he was ridding of his clothes and tossing them aside, just like you were. you could see it in his eyes as he let you pull him closer to the water’s edge, despite his protests. “this is stupid,” he grumbled, though the smile playing at the corners of his lips betrayed him.

you both stopped at the water’s edge, and you glanced at him one last time. “ready?” you asked. convincing him to do what you wanted was so easy.

“i fucking hate you,” rafe grumbled under his breath.

“five,” you counted, grinning like you were already winning.

“seriously, i’m driving home without you after this,” he added, but there was obviously no way he was actually leaving you behind.

“four,” you continued, pulling harder now, your hands tightening on his arm.

“i swear to god, y/n— three,” he started, trying to sound like he meant it, but you were already laughing.

“two,” you said, your voice rising with excitement. rafe’s eyes had flicked to you, a mix of annoyance and disbelief, but also a little something else. maybe it was the challenge. maybe he had known you wouldn’t back down.

“one,” you’d called, and in that instant, you had yanked him along, laughing loud as you ran toward the water, the adrenaline flowing in your veins. you had felt the cold spray as the water splashed around your legs, and it felt like freedom.

without thinking, without hesitation, you had leapt into the water, diving under the surface and leaving everything behind. the water had swallowed you whole, and for a second, everything had been calm.

then, you’d pushed yourself back up, breaking the surface, gasping for air and wiping the saltwater from your eyes.

you glanced around and saw rafe still standing in the shallow end, just a few feet from the shore, wiping his face in disbelief. you laughed, feeling the pull of the waves around you. you hadn’t cared that rafe didn’t go as deep as you had, you just knew that he was still there, and you were having too much fun to stop now.

you floated in place for a second, catching your breath, and then you had heard him, his voice barely carrying over the water. “baby,” he had called out, his feet still grounded in the sand, but there had been a soft chuckle underneath, a reluctant admission of how ridiculous it all was.

you had turned back to him, your grin wide, and had swum toward him. “you coming or what?” you teased, watching as he had slowly taken a step deeper, then another, his body instinctively following you into the water.

“it was everything that i needed, in one day.”

a/n: sorry but LMFAOO im writing this scene a day later so bear w me if thjs is a sudden switch & if i approach it horribly

eventually the night settled deep. rafe took another slow drag from the joint between his fingers. you two were still damp, the salt of the ocean clinging to your skin. you sat beside him, knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped loosely around them, your wet hair gathered over one shoulder. every so often, a gust of wind would roll in from the water, lifting strands of it and sending a shiver down your spine. but you didn’t move, didn’t speak. neither of you did.

the silence stretched, comfortable but heavy. rafe exhaled a long breath of smoke, watching it disappear into the night. he glanced down at his lap, tapping the joint lightly between his fingers, hesitant. like he was weighing something in his mind. you didn’t rush him. you knew better than that.

“i don’t know how to be what you need.” the words left him suddenly, like they had been sitting there for too long, pressing against his ribs, waiting for an opening. his voice was quieter than usual, a little rough around the edges.

you turned your head slightly, watching him as he stared down at his hands. he was never good at saying shit like this. never good at letting his guard down unless something, anger, frustration, adrenaline, forced it out of him. but this was different. this was rafe, high and tired and finally willing to let the words slip through the cracks.

“i’ve been thinking about it,” he admitted, rolling the joint between his fingers. “a lot, actually. probably too much. and i keep coming back to the same thing.”

you waited.

“i don’t know how to do this,” he muttered, shaking his head. “not the way you deserve.”

his knee bounced once before he stopped it, pressing his palm down against it like he could physically stop himself from unraveling. his jaw tightened for a second before he exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to keep going.

“you’re just . . . better at this. at knowing what you want. at knowing how to be in something without ruining it.” he let out a small, humorless laugh, looking off toward the waves. “i don’t think i’ve ever known how to do that.”

your grip around your legs tightened, but you didn’t interrupt.

he ran a hand through his damp hair, tugging slightly at the ends before letting it fall back into place. “i feel like every time i try, i just— fuck it up. like i’m wired to.” he took another hit, holding it for a second before exhaling slowly. “and it’s not like i want to. but sometimes i just . . . i don’t know. i feel like i don’t know how else to be.”

there was a long pause.

you shifted slightly, resting your chin against your knee as you studied him. he was still looking away, brows furrowed, his fingers tightening briefly around the joint before he passed it to you without a word.

for once, he wasn’t looking for a fight. he wasn’t trying to argue, or defend himself, or spin things around so they hurt less. he was just saying it. plain and simple.

you took the joint from him but didn’t take a hit, just held it between your fingers, watching the ember glow softly in the dark. and for once, you didn’t try to fix it. didn’t try to fix him.

you just let him be.

you rolled the joint between your fingers, slow and thoughtful, before finally speaking. “i don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” you said, your voice quiet but sure.

rafe didn’t react right away. he just stared ahead, jaw tense, waiting.

you took a breath, lifting your gaze to him. “you act like you’re supposed to have it all figured out. like if you don’t, then you’re already losing.” you shook your head slightly. “but nobody really does. not in the way you think.”

his fingers flexed slightly against his knee, but he still didn’t look at you. so you kept going.

“i never needed you to be perfect,” you said, your voice softer now. “i just needed you to try.”

he didn’t move, didn’t react. just sat there, gaze stuck to the ocean like he was trying to convince himself none of this was happening. like if he focused hard enough, he could ignore it, ignore you.

but you weren’t letting him off easy.

you shifted, tucking your legs in closer to your chest, turning just enough so you could watch him again. you rested your chin against your knee, waiting.

rafes stubborn, you knew that better than anyone. he could sit in silence for hours if it meant avoiding a conversation he didn’t want to have. and maybe a few months ago, you would’ve let him. but not now. not tonight.

when he still didn’t speak, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his arm. it was soft, barely there, but enough to make him go still. his skin was warm despite the cool night air, and he smelled like saltwater and weed, with something deeper underneath, something that was just rafe.

you stayed there for a second longer than you should have, letting yourself breathe him in, before pulling back.

without a word, you took the joint and held it up to his lips. he hesitated, just for a moment, before finally parting them, letting you press the filter against them as he inhaled.

then you watched him exhale, the smoke curling between you before drifting up into the night, and so you brought the joint to your own lips.

as you took a slow, deliberate drag, rafe finally looked at you. really looked at you.

his blue eyes were darker now, heavy-lidded and unreadable. but there was something in the way he was watching you, something almost unguarded.

before you could exhale, he leaned in, closing the space between you in an instant.

the kiss was deep, slow, his lips warm and familiar against yours. he tasted like smoke and salt, like something that felt a little too much like home.

you let him pull you under, let yourself sink into the feeling of him, until you finally parted, releasing a breath.

the smoke slipped from your mouth, curling around the space between you before disappearing into the air.

your eyes locked onto his, unflinching.

“i love you,” you said, steady, certain. “okay?” like you needed him to hear it. like he had no choice but to believe you.

his gaze softened, and for a second, you saw the weight of everything behind those blue eyes. he didn’t say anything at first, but he nodded slowly, like he needed a moment to process it, but also like he understood.

without another word, you reached up and tugged him in, wrapping your arms around the back of his head, pulling him into the comfort of your embrace.

his arms instinctively came around you, securing you close, almost like you were a teddy bear he needed to hold onto. the tension in his body seemed to melt into the hug, as though all the things he’d been carrying around were just . . . lifted for a second.

you pressed your lips to the top of his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him again, and stared at the sand beneath you.

rafe held you tighter, his arms squeezing around you as though he didn’t want to let go. you could feel the pressure of his arms, the tightness in the way he held you, as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this moment, to reality.

he murmured quietly into your hair, like the words were the only thing left he could offer, “i love you.”

a/n: gur wtf was this choppy??? idk this is what im saying about long parts cs MY TRANSITIONS R SO BUTT ugh i cant do this im gts

@luvrclub @nemesyaaa @flvredcas @montanajgbn @f4dedtouch @psychocitylights @faephoria @annaconscience @congratsloserr @rafekisser @grandfartvoid @vampiriito @countryclubwhore @yktayy9669 @lilou0401 @gemininormouzz @k4yr14 @pinkamenap1e @nelo321 @the-oracle-at-delphinitely-not @dreamybabbyy @peachyparkerr @drewstarkeytruelove @wtfisastiles @adoreeyou @rafestar @nymphetkoo @honeyluvsatj @reeseswirl

[perfectsunlight]

VLOG MOMENTS FROM THE KIM VACATION

minjeong x reader (ft. jennie kim)

synopsis: the kim sisters go on their annual summer trip to hawaii, but this time around, y/n decides to bring her girlfriend, minjeong.

a/n: this is just an idea i had while writing something for my other series: the variable

THE FLIGHT

the video starts with y/n leaning against jennie’s shoulder in the backseat of a car. the blackpink member zooms in on her younger sister’s face, causing y/n to smile and hit the camera playfully.

jennie quickly turns the camera to herself and starts speaking. “we’re currently on our way to the airport, we’re going to be in hawaii for a week. are you excited?” she turns to her younger sister, who nods rapidly.

“y/n is taking her ‘friend’ with us this time, so she’s meeting us there at the airport.”  y/n’s lips curve into a small smile as she shakes her head at her sister’s remark and looks out the window. 

a quick cut shows y/n running up to another person in a hoodie. jennie chuckles lightly and zooms in on the two embracing. there’s a second cut and y/n is recording with her head against someone’s shoulder. “guess who's coming with us,” she says in a sing-song tone and shows the camera, revealing minjeong’s face. the aespa member smiles and waves, earning a chuckle from y/n behind the camera. “cute.” the younger kim whispers at the sight of her girlfriend. minjeong smiles sheepishly before jennie’s voice is heard in the background. 

“i’m sitting in between you two on the flight.”

SHOPPING IN HONOLULU

jennie points the camera at minjeong and laughs as she watches her carry several bags in her arms. “are you sure you can carry all of that?”

the blonde shakes her head quickly, looking over in the direction of where y/n appears to be somewhere off screen. the girls seem to be at a mall. “my arms are about to fall off. i think i need to get back to the gym.” minjeong jokes, earning a laugh from jennie. y/n comes into frame with two more bags in her hand shortly after.

jennie puts her little sister into the frame of the camera. “what did you buy?” she asked while minjeong can be seen adjusting the bags she was holding and stretching her arms.

y/n smiles and waves the bags playfully in front of the lens. “new bathing suits and a new charger because i forgot mine on the plane.” 

“i’ll hold them,” minjeong quickly says as she gently takes the bags out of the younger kim’s hands. the action causes the older kim to start laughing. jennie focuses the camera back onto herself and shakes her head as the trio began walking out of the store. before the clip ends, y/n and minjeong’s voices can be heard off frame.

“baby, you’re already holding everything, it’ll be too heavy.” “it’s nothing, now let me hold it.”

THE BEACH

y/n is seen filming this time, showing the scenery around her. she zooms in on jennie, who seems to be taking a small nap in the shade with her sunglasses on. “unnie deserves a good rest,” the younger kim whispers to the camera before it cuts to the next part, where she’s walking with minjeong as the sun sets behind them. 

minjeong waves to the camera quickly before pointing at the beautiful sunset behind them. “look how beautiful,” she gently takes the camera from y/n to show the sky better.

“more beautiful than me?” y/n says quickly as she jumps in front of the sm idol’s shot. both flustered and amused by the girl’s actions, all minjeong can do is chuckle. “midnight's album is out july 7th.”

“we’re on vacation and you’re promoting your group’s album?” minjeong teases as she gently shoves the other idol. “of course i am,” y/n replies with a smile. “i care about my stargazers.”

“do they know i’m the number one stargazer?” minjeong says quickly as she wraps an arm around y/n’s shoulder. the younger kim points the camera at the other girl again while laughing at her remark.

“you’re not, jennie is.”

THE HOTEL

jennie is seen in pajamas and laying in bed with the hotel tv on. “i’m so tired today, we decided to go snorkeling so we couldn’t film it.” the blackpink member snickered as she recalled an event from earlier that day.

“if you guys didn’t know, y/n doesn’t like snorkeling because the last time we went, a fish went up to her mouth.”

almost immediately, y/n’s voice is heard from off camera.

“jennie unnie,” she groans playfully before climbing into bed with her sister and laying on top of her. she was in a pj set exactly like jennie’s. “don’t expose me.”

jennie chuckles as y/n joins her in bed, wrapping her arms around her sister in a playful hug. “sorry, but it's too funny not to share,” jennie teases, affectionately tousling y/n's hair. 

y/n lets out a mock sigh, feigning annoyance. “i should tell everyone about your swimsuit incident,” she says, shooting jennie a mock glare before breaking into a grin.

jennie gasps dramatically, feigning shock. “you wouldn't dare!” she exclaims, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. the younger girl giggles, knowing she has the upper hand in this playful exchange. 

“oh, i think blinks would love to hear about the great swimsuit malfunction of 2024,” she teases, poking jennie's side. “so what happened was–”

before y/n could finish her sentence, her sister put her hand over her mouth. “we’ll see you in the morning,” she said loudly to the camera, struggling to keep her hand over the younger girl’s mouth. 

“goodnight!”

YACHT

“today we’re spending the afternoon on a boat,” y/n says as she leans against jennie’s shoulder. “minjeongie is taking pictures over there.” she points the camera towards the deck where the aespa member is taking pictures of herself. 

“i’m wearing a blue swimsuit today to match minjeong’s,” y/n takes the camera and shows a quick glimpse of her blue bikini. “yesterday we didn’t film it, but i was matching with jennie unnie at the other beach.”

a quick montage of the ocean, sky, and the trio taking pictures is shown before jennie is the only one in frame. she zooms in on the two younger idols who appear to be taking polaroids with each other.

“y/n always brings her polaroid everywhere,” jennie explains while the focus is still on the other two girls. “she’s always showing her pictures to lisa.”

suddenly, minjeong is seen leaning in very close to y/n’s face. “hey!” jennie shouts at the aespa member, causing her to immediately sit straight up and back away from y/n with her hands in the air. y/n rolls her eyes playfully and laughs at her sister’s antics. “she was moving something out of my face, unnie.”

“i’m sure she was.”

jennie said as she made her way over to the pair and sat in between them before waving goodbye to the camera with a blushing minjeong and a smiling y/n.

[watevermelon]

Practiced Patience | Yandere Jing Yuan x Reader

✧ Summary: Close friends with members of the High-Cloud Quintet, you wished every day was filled with peaceful sunsets and drinks, even if you and Jing Yuan bickered at every occasion. Who would have known it would all come crumbling down?

➳ High-Cloud Quintet!Jing Yuan x Reader ➳ Notes: LONG ONE SHOT; Forced Relationship, Emotional, Dark Angst, Lemon with Plot, dubcon, possessive, abuse of authority, hate sex ➳ Navigation

You knew better than to trust someone like Jing Yuan.

Jingliu claimed he was nothing to worry about.

An ambitious boy with no known birthplace, a thorn in their side as he often bickered with the rest of the Quintet. But you knew what you saw, a quiet tactician more meticulous than the others gave him credit for. 

You stood to the side, not as a member of their infamous group, but rather a friend to both Jingliu and Dan Feng. They were both private in their ways, but remained steadfast when their minds were focused on a mission. It was clear that it was working, notching many glorious victories under the belt.

With only one notable issue…

After each triumph, Jingliu and Dan Feng were unabashedly transparent in their feelings, their one weakness that never failed to elicit an amused roll of your eyes.

Nonetheless, you found yourself in the unofficial role as matchmaker of the hopeless High-Cloud Quintet. It was almost amusing, how you rushed to sit in the middle of the table and beckoned Jing Yuan to your side, forcing the two couples to sit together. 

Jingliu shot you a withering glare that could have pierced steel, her warning palpable in the air. Meanwhile, Dan Feng and Yingxing exchanged a knowing glance before simultaneously rolling their eyes at your antics. Without missing a beat, they moved to sit together, Jingliu and Baiheng on the other side.

Whatever, at the end of the day, you were the successful one with each couple sat together instead of pretending that the last few days of pining looks and flirtatious quips were nothing. Another night under the moonlight with your friends - it was perfect.

“I must say, watching you scurry around like this is nothing short of amusing.”

Almost perfect.

“Must you, Jing Yuan?”

“What?”

“Mock me if you will, but they will appreciate it in time.”

Fortunately, the man remained silent, content to sip on his drink while his gaze remained fixed on you. Despite your attempts to feign disinterest by gazing up at the night sky, he refused to look away, the unwavering attention in your peripheral unnerving. Enduring Jing Yuan's company was a small price to pay if it meant facilitating the blossoming romance between your friends. Glancing to the side, you couldn't help but smile as you observed Dan Feng leaning closer into Yingxing's space. 

You closed your eyes, allowing the moments to slip by as you savored the peaceful ambiance of the night, accompanied by the gentle sway of the breeze and the comforting presence of drinks in hand. Their voices, though soft-spoken, enveloped you in a comforting embrace as you absently listened to their murmurs with quiet reverence.

“And when will you finally appreciate my attention?” A sudden whisper startled you out of your reverie, the warmth of his breath against your ear sending a shiver cascading down your spine.

Time and time again, Jing Yuan had made his peculiar infatuation with you known, yet it remained just that — an infatuation, devoid of any deeper significance. You couldn't help but notice the way his gaze trailed up your form, lingering on the curve of your bosom with a hunger that bordered on unsettling.

“Back off, boy.” You stated clearly, quietly shoving him out of your space.

"You see me as a boy, but it's been quite some time since I've surpassed even you in height," Jing Yuan remarked, his tone laced with a hint of amusement and a touch of defiance.

He was right, undoubtedly so. 

Yet, clinging to the image of him as the young boy who first joined the Quintet served as a tether, keeping you grounded amidst the whirlwind of his affections. Despite the low timbre of his voice and the undeniable presence of his newfound muscles, you refused to dwell on such details. 

This was Jing Yuan, the boy who often found himself embroiled in arguments with the others — the very same one you staunchly refused to entertain any romantic feelings for.

Jingliu called you an idiot on multiple occasions, stating that there was nothing wrong with getting involved with the now up-and-coming warrior.

Jing Yuan was a far cry from the boy you met eons ago, but even back then he had already made a name for himself. A troop member who had somehow led a bloodless victory aboard the Navis Astriger. It was no surprise that he was appointed quickly to a position of importance within the Cloud Knights.

And while he and Jingliu were not particularly close, they had mutual respect for one another as mentor and student. She had mentioned to you multiple occasions that the warrior was not a bad catch.

Rumor had it that Jing Yuan was going to be named the Arbiter-General of the Luofu Cloud Knights, not that any of that mattered to you.

But your friend did not see it , not like you did.

Beneath the surface, beyond the facade of a valiant hero defending the Xianzhou, you sensed an unsettling undercurrent lurking behind his golden eyes. While he exuded an aura of bravery and strength, there was an undeniable sense of something darker, something twisted, concealed within the depths of his being. 

As you held his gaze, peering into the abyss of his golden stare, you could not shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye — a darkness that whispered of hidden desires.

And worst of all, they were aimed at you.

“And yet just a boy you continue to be.” You gave him a scathing reply back, raising your glass to your lips as if bringing that conversation to an end.

But Jing Yuan easily captured it from your grasp, drinking the rest before asking. “And what must I do for you to see me?”

“There is nothing.” You said with an air of finality, standing from your seat and excusing yourself for a moment - not that the others noticed, now in their own worlds.

Thankfully Jing Yuan had not followed, instead continuing to stare at you as he drank from your glass.

There it was again.

You almost regretted rising from your seat, subjecting yourself once again to his unrelenting stare. There was a palpable appreciation in his gaze as it roamed over your standing form, tracing the lines of your long legs and lingering on the expanse of skin you exposed. Sensing his intent to meet your eyes, you swiftly pivoted on your heel and turned to walk away, leaving behind the weight of his scrutiny.

Whatever, asshole. 

It was still a fine night, even if he openly leered at you with a clear intent that you decidedly ignored. 

These moments were perfect, not even Jing Yuan could ruin them. 

And while these nights usually unfolded this way, with banter exchanged between you and Jing Yuan, you cherished these moments with your friends. 

You treasured Jingliu's gentle smiles toward Baiheng, like whispers of affection carried on the evening breeze. You adored watching Dan Feng's earnest attempts at being suave, his efforts endearing despite their failure. Yingxing’s soft smile in response, unfazed and full of quiet adoration, was like moonlight gracing the night. 

These small interactions, these cherished bonds, were the heartbeats of your evenings together.

And sometimes, just sometimes , Jing Yuan was not so annoying as usual. 

There were moments when he would casually throw an arm across the back of your seat and you would allow it. He would lean into your space, a smirk playing on his lips, his presence somehow both familiar and infuriating. Yet, inevitably, he would push the fold too far, his smirk widening just before you pushed him back, reclaiming your space and restoring the delicate balance of your dance.

At times Jing Yuan would surprise you. A cup of your favorite tea, one you had briefly mentioned in passing. The next book in a series you rambled about. A beautiful necklace from a merchant who was in town for only the weekend, one that Jing Yuan did not allow you to refuse.

Once you had even watched him train, watching the sweat trail down his muscular build as his hair bellowed in the wind. It took everything in you to fight down a rosy blush. 

But that was…

Something you did not even want to acknowledge. 

Anyway. 

In the company of your friends, surrounded by the serene glow of the moonlight, you felt an overwhelming desire to freeze time and remain in this moment forever. With a drink in hand and laughter in the air, you cherished the bond you shared with the Quintet, longing for eternity in their companionship.

But nothing ever truly worked out the way you wanted it to.

Baiheng, your dear friend who wanted nothing more than to gaze upon endless stars, would never get a chance to even see the Astral Express.

She paid the ultimate price, sacrificing herself for the others in their fight against Shuhu. 

“The so-called heroes of the Xianzhou… And yet we can do nothing for our friend.” Dan Feng complained constantly, “How useless these titles are now.”

You could not shake the worry gnawing at your heart for Dan Feng and his deteriorating mental state. Increasingly, he voiced his anguish over the ceaseless cycle of death wrought by war, his spirit weighed down by the heavy burden of loss.

The spark that once ignited Dan Feng's eyes whenever he discovered a new book or shared a captivating story had dimmed, overshadowed by the relentless pursuit of unattainable dreams. He seemed consumed by a fervor akin to madness, his mind teeming with theories and schemes to resurrect Baiheng into the waking world.

Each member of the splintered Quintet grappled with their own demons, their sorrow manifesting in different ways, hidden behind veils of stoicism. At least Dan Feng was willing to speak to you, Jingliu appeared as nothing more than a hollow shell, her once vibrant spirit dimmed by the weight of her burdens. Yingxing refused to leave Dan Feng’s side.

You turned to Jing Yuan, the usually aloof schemer, now consumed by grief as he withdrew into the confines of his office, reluctant to emerge.

Casting aside your own hesitation, you ventured to visit Jing Yuan late into the night, bearing a steaming cup of tea procured from Tingyun's shop not long ago. At the time, you had hoped to bring it along on a night of victory.

He stood at the window, a solitary figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the moonlit sky, his hands folded behind his back as he gazed into the abyss beyond. The office was devoid of any other presence, engulfed in a palpable silence that hung heavy in the air.

“Jing Yuan?” You broke out the moment, surprised that he hadn’t moved at your appearance.

With a flick of his wrist, Jing Yuan beckoned you over, his expression tight with emotion as he silently invited you to approach. You extended the cup of tea towards him and he accepted it with ease, taking the kettle from your hands and placing it on his desk without a care for the watermarks it would leave on the papers below.

He sipped the tea slowly, his gaze fixed once again on the night sky as you stood beside him at the window. Did he truly need or even want your company in his moment of grief? With not a word spoken between you, a twinge of guilt gnawed at you for not reaching out to him sooner.

“If you need anything Jing Yuan, I’m here for you.” You broke the silence.

His golden eyes cast a glance downward at you, cloudier than you had ever seen them before. Despite the heaviness weighing upon him, a flicker of affection still lingered in his gaze, one that had always been there. Perhaps, in your haste, you had been too harsh on him, failing to recognize maybe he did sincerely have feelings for you.

You could not help the blush that spread across your cheeks, having the unabashed attention of the warrior. “Jing Yuan?”

Setting the cup down on the desk, he enveloped you in his arms, pulling you into a tight embrace that seemed to swallow you whole. Your senses were overwhelmed by Jing Yuan's presence — from his musky scent that surrounded you to the warmth of his touch. Despite the flood of sensations threatening to engulf you, you pushed them aside, focusing instead on returning his embrace, wrapping your arms around his middle and holding him close.

You felt him bury his face into your hair, inhaling deeply as if committing your scent to memory. It was a rare display of tenderness from Jing Yuan, perhaps the longest moment of gentle care he had ever bestowed upon you. It was always silly puns and flirtatious banter, never this new brand of sincere heartfelt affection.

In that fleeting instant, a wave of shyness washed over you, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment.

There was a sudden urge to pull away, but Jing Yuan moved to press his forehead against yours as he whispered. “If anything were to happen to you, I would not be able to take it.”

Your heart raced faster, his unexpected display of care contradicting the image of the young boy you had always perceived him to be. Even now, he loomed over you, his deep, husky voice sending a pang of want within your core.

Jing Yuan's hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you gently in place as he pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. You stood frozen in shock, never having imagined that this unexpected turn of events would transpire when you visited him tonight.

As his lips met yours in a tentative kiss, you felt a flutter of uncertainty mingled with a growing curiosity, unsure of the depths of your own feelings for him. Before this he was the one you refused to glance twice at, but now there was too much -- too much grief to think clearly.

“Jing Yu--!” He interrupted your voice, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss and swipe his tongue across yours.

Yet, despite your hesitance, Jing Yuan's passion remained unwavering.

For a heartbeat, you hesitated. This was not the time to be making moves like this - he was transferring his guilt and his grief into something that needed more time. But as you felt the heat of his touch searing through you, igniting an ignored fire deep within you, you found yourself yielding to the overwhelming tide of desire.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the kiss, allowing yourself to be consumed by the intensity of the moment. His tongue danced against yours in a fervent embrace, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. In that fleeting instant, doubts and uncertainties melted away, leaving only the raw, unbridled passion that surged between you.

Jing Yuan lifted you effortlessly by the back of your knees, easily done with his strength. He gently placed you on his desk, the surface cool against your thighs. His actions were fervent, his desire unmistakable in the way he moved. Yet, despite the intensity, his touch remained surprisingly gentle.

He ravaged your mouth with his, his lips insistent and demanding, but tempered with a tenderness that belied the raw emotion of the moment. His hands cupped your face, fingers splayed along your jawline as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the contours of your mouth with a fervor that left you breathless. Each movement was precise and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second of your shared intimacy.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you responded to his lips, your own desire growing with each passing moment. The world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only the two of you, locked in an embrace of unspoken feelings.

The moment was laced with a gentle urgency, beckoning you to wrap yourself around him and return for more kisses. You leaned a hand on the table as he kissed at your neck, accidentally brushing the kettle off the desk and shattering it on the floor.

“Fuck.”

Jing Yuan's voice dropped to a husky whisper, "What an uncouth tongue. Shall I punish you for it?"

You smiled at his teasing, his usual banter back in full force. “Jing Yuan…”

“Say my name again, sweetheart.”

The moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the warrior, illuminating his long white hair as you held each other in this surprising embrace. With only the soft glow to witness your intimacy, everything seemed perfect. 

Yet, you knew the truth. 

It was too soon to be acting like this — his actions were driven by grief rather than genuine connection. 

Fighting the urge to widen your smile at his response, you placed two steady hands on his shoulders to catch his attention.  “You… We shouldn’t have done this.”

His smirk faded, replaced by pinched brows, but his hands remained firm at your waist. “Do you regret being with me?”

“That’s not it at all. Jing Yuan, this is the grief speaking.” You immediately responded.

“No, no it’s not.” He was incensed immediately, running a frustrated hand through his long locs.

You tried to grab his arm, to bring him back to you. “Then let’s wait together. You fought side-by-side with Baiheng for decades, you need more time to grieve.”

“Can you not admit that our feelings for each other have been building this entire time, not just at a time of loss?”

For each other?

You hesitated, unable to refute his question in fear of making the situation worse. Before this moment, you refused to even entertain any romantic notion toward the warrior. It was always him, taking and taking until he hit a boundary you refused to let him cross.

It seemed your words were unnecessary, since the grimace on his visage grew.

“How could I forget? You still underestimate me like the others.” He spit out, frustration mounting in his voice.

“That’s not true, Jing Yuan.’

“Yes, it is. Otherwise, must you think my affection is fleeting? I have wanted to be with you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“Then we should wait until after --”

“Why? Because you believe my sorrows have taken hold of me?” Jing Yuan was clear in his words, “Even now you think low of me, a boy unable to even sort out his own feelings.”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“Leave me. And do not return. It’s clear to me now that I love you, but I was nothing more than a passing fancy you enjoyed in your orbit.”

You whispered his name as he turned back to his place by the window, leaving you to sit dumbly at his desk. How had the argument progressed to this? To a nuclear proportion that he did not even want to glance in your direction?

A few minutes ago, you were lost in his touch and now Jing Yuan seemed to want nothing to do with you. Ashamed and saddened, you gathered yourself and left at his request.

Even if you wanted to make this right, to apologize and explain your thinking, the days to come were thrown into absolute turmoil.

To think it was Dan Feng that committed the unthinkable, attempting to resurrect Baiheng and betraying the whole of the Laoufu. And Yingxing, his closest confidant and possible love of his life, had even assisted him. Neither man had warned you of their plans that day, not even as it backfired in one of the worst ways possible. 

You were at the wrong place at the wrong time. 

You were not a member of the High-Cloud Quintet.

You did not even have an elemental power granted to you by a path.

In the past, Dan Feng would offer to train you in case you needed it. But Jingliu had waved him away with a reassuring smile, saying that they would always be there to protect you anyway.

And yet here and now you were rendered flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you with scrapes littering your body. Phantom pain coarsed through every limb, making you question if your arm was even supposed to bend that way. With effort, one of your eyes struggled to open, but the pulsating pain in your head made it a daunting task. Despite the haze of agony enveloping you, you fought to grasp onto consciousness, struggling to make sense of the chaotic scene unfolding right in front of you.

Jingliu's movements across the Scalegorge Waterscape were swift, but also tinged with a recklessness that you had not seen before. You found it challenging to even breathe, having been blasted in the air after Dan Feng’s failed experiment.

With each passing moment, the burden of his and Yingxing’s failure weighed heavier upon you, pushing your body to exhaustion as it tinged with an unending pain.

There was no doubt about it in your mind.

You were struck with mara.

Why?

Why had Dan Feng betrayed his closest companions?

You doubted you were the only one with this new curse. 

Yingxing was never one for the front-lines, usually a presence with the other military engineers. And yet you watched as a savage look overtook his visage and he wielded his hammer against the Cloud Knights.

You barely caught a glimpse of Dan Feng being led away in chains, Jing Yuan declaring his crimes just a few steps behind. To your shock, the Cloud Knights then turned their attention to you, hauling you off the ground and listing off accusations as you were dragged away to prison alongside him.

Drifting in and out of consciousness, the solitude of the prison cell weighed heavy on your spirit. There was no one by your side, no friendly faces to offer solace. The smaller cuts and bruises that adorned your body had been tended to, evidence of some form of care during your unconsciousness. Yet, as you cursed your own helplessness, a sense of frustration and despair settled in your bones. You were powerless here, unable to flee, unable to prevent Dan Feng's actions, and now trapped in the confines of this unforgiving prison.

The guards whispered of the unforeseen events, the heroes of the Xianzhou now a taboo topic - one dead, two in exile, and the catalyst of their ruin in his own cell somewhere in this very building.

And Jing Yuan, somehow now the Arbiter-General of the Luofu Cloud Knights.

The guards of your cell refused to speak to you, ignoring your pleas to even identify your accused crimes or to get in contact with a Master Diviner. This felt surreal, unjust. You had never assisted Dan Feng in his plans, and if you had known of his intentions, you would have done everything in your power to stop him. Desperation clawed at you as you tried to reason with the unyielding guards, your voice echoing futilely in the cold, unfeeling corridor.

Days, if not weeks, passed in the cold, unending prison. Isolation gnawed at you, the silence suffocating. You hadn’t spoken to anyone and your mental state frayed more each day, teetering on the brink of breaking entirely. Despair settled in, a heavy blanket that dulled your senses and made time blur into a continuous, agonizing stretch.

“How pitiful you have become.”

You blinked up at his tall stature.

Jing Yuan.

Of all people to come to your lone cell.

“To think I held love for you in my heart.” He spat out, “You aided the traitor of the Xianzhou.”

“I never helped Dan Feng in his great sin.” You defended yourself, “And if you truly knew me like you claimed to, you would know that.”

"You dare turn on the one willing to hear you out?" Jing Yuan taunted, his voice dripping with cold truth. "There are a few who claim to have seen you assist Dan Feng.”

“That’s not true!”

“So all of them are lying?”

You shook your head and turned, “Of course you would not believe me.”

Jing Yuan scoffed, “Is my presence here not tantamount to my desire to see you? There is no one else here. No one else to turn to. In all your years of loyalty to the Xianzhou, only I am willing to listen to your defense." 

His words echoed in the cell, a cruel reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His eyes bore into yours, challenging and unyielding, leaving you to grapple with the bleak reality of your circumstances.

“And what? If I can’t convince you?”

“Then you will be exiled, like the others.”

Exiled.

To work as a slave for the IPC or end up in some other clutches, far from your home.

You felt useless, unable to fight. Unable to defend yourself.

"Nothing to say?" Jing Yuan's voice carried a mocking edge, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. 

You were always quick with your rebuttals, but now? Now that your life hung in the balance, at the mercy of someone who seemed to want nothing to do with you? He had already cast aside his closest friends; what fate awaited you?

“Then offer me one last favor Jing Yuan -- kill me.”

That was clearly not the response he was expecting. Surprise flickered across Jing Yuan's face, momentarily breaking his stoic demeanor.

Why should he be surprised?

As a Xianzhou native, you were destined to live hundreds of years of this now pitiful life. And to think that now you were struck with mara at such a young age. If you were to get caught up with the IPC, would you become their workhorse for centuries if not all of eternity? How long would it be before you decayed into a shell of who you were with nothing but a debt hanging over your shoulder?

It would mean bidding farewell to the life you once knew, condemned to an existence devoid of purpose, unable to end it even if you wished to.

“What?” His voice broke you, “You would rather die than beg me for your life?”

“You already hate me, don’t pretend. This outcome has already been decided. And if I were cast aside from the Alliance, it would be a death sentence that I would be unable to claim.” You scoffed, one last rebuttal that you could afford. 

Jing Yuan remained silent, a storm of emotions swirling behind his eyes. You could discern a few - confliction, surprise, but mostly anger simmering just beneath the surface. Had he not known that you were struck with mara?

He stepped up to the bars of the cell, “I could never hurt you.”

“Someone can.” You refused to look at him, furious at his attempt to capitalize on your lowest point. “Make the funeral private, at least.”

The general remained at the prison bars, his presence looming over you like a shadow. Despite your refusal to engage further in conversation, his imposing figure seemed to fill the room with an unspoken tension. The realization of your irreversible fate struck you like a hammer blow. 

If you were to be exiled from the Xianzhou, who else could comprehend the curse that had befallen you? With each passing century, you would grow and mutate, becoming a grotesque monster. Eventually, even the simplest acts of thought would be beyond your reach, leaving you trapped in a nightmarish existence for eternity.

You would rather end it now than be trapped in a body that would never die.

A young diviner was the next to visit you. She made it known she was only here at General Jing Yuan’s request, attempting to scry into your past to help prove your innocence at the Sedition of Imbibitor Lunae.

(A part of you found it holy ironic. The Quintet had served the Alliance for decades as their hero, but now all they would be remembered for is a single person’s moment of weakness.)

And yet… 

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing of use for your trial.”

“Nothing?”

“It seems you were rather close to Dan Feng… Including the early days of when he first concocted the idea of his sin.”

“I was always close to Dan Feng.” You argued, “It was not a secret that I was a friend to all the members of the Quintet. What of the people who claimed to see me during the incident? Why are they claiming something they never saw?”

The diviner glanced at the guards briefly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “It is a member of the Quintet who is citing your involvement.”

What?

Who?

Forget it, now was not the time to be dwelling on that. You had her attention now, perhaps the only time you would be allowed to speak to the diviner. You had one more question to ask, one more selfish request despite all he had put his friends through.

“What about asking Dan Feng himself, surely he can prove I was not involved?”

Immediately, her face looked conflicted, a frown deepening the lines around her mouth as she considered how to respond to your question. Her eyes darted away from yours, searching for the right words or perhaps the least painful truth. 

“Dan Feng no longer exists.”

No. 

No. 

She jumped at your outcry, a harsh wail contrasting her previously soft tone of voice. You did not blame her when the diviner made a swift exit after. There wasn’t much else she could do anyway, leaving you to wrestle with your anguish alone. 

The room seemed to close in on you, each shadow deepening the sense of despair. You were left with your thoughts, heavy and suffocating, attempting not to think of the molting rebirth your friend was possibly forced through.

Dan Feng had been your friend. 

And now he no longer existed.

How long ago had it been since you were joking around with him and Yingxing, sharing quiet moments as the sun dipped below the horizon? That memory felt like a distant dream now, tinged with the bitter sting of reality.

You cried endlessly, your tears only a single drop of your despair; how you wished fervently for the clock to strike backwards. To think that the kind-hearted Baiheng had sacrificed her life for her closest companions, only for her noble act to be twisted into the catalyst for one's descent into betrayal and madness. 

How could life be so cruel?

Tears flowed incessantly, streaming down your cheeks like a relentless downpour, transcending even the hours that you wallowed in your grief. The guards complained at your wailing, but you ignored them in your unending sadness.

But not even you could ignore a phantom touch that gently caressed the crown of your head. Blinking through the haze of your tears, your vision blurred by the curtain of familiar white hair that surrounded you. His lips brushed against your forehead again, a tender gesture that stirred confusion.

Jing Yuan in all his glory, inside your cell and offering small kisses to your person.

What the fuck was he doing here?

“You could have it all back — your family, your life here on the Xianzhou.” He murmured between open-mouth kisses, “I promise I will do everything in my power to take care of you.”

Jing Yuan.

Presumably the last remaining member of the Quintet still on the Laoufu.

Both Jingliu and Yingxing fled the Alliance the moment they were called to be imprisoned. Dan Feng was long gone. None of them would even have the chance to implicate you.

Jing Yuan.

The one person who could benefit from your imprisonment.

You had nothing to offer - you were not a legendary artisan like Yingxing or a formidable fighter like the others. Jingliu had always joked that you were under her protection, if anything were to come to pass, that she would always be there for you. But now she was gone and Jing Yuan’s authority was unchecked.

The boy they argued with ceaselessly.

The one whom many constantly underestimated, as if he had not already proven the power of his meticulous schemes. 

He was the cause of this. 

You had no proof, but the warning bell in your gut was at full blast as he attempted to lay more kisses on your person. 

The general was the only one with the authority to let you out of this dreary cell. And time and time again, Jing Yuan had made it known exactly what he wanted from you. Except now, you could no longer deny him. 

Jing Yuan had truly ripped apart every last defense you had. 

Face exile from the Laofu, left to wander the cosmos forever as either a slave and eventually a monster. Or, be subject to his every whim and want. 

Everything came with a price.

What must you pay?

You felt the heat emanating from Jing Yuan's body as he drew you closer, your lips meeting with a hunger that spoke of desires long held under the surface. 

His tongue met no resistance, roughly exploring past your lips to get you to succumb to his advances. The sound of your shared breaths, ragged and hurried, filled the air between you, punctuated by hungry moans. A hand threaded through your hair, holding you fast as your lips clung to each other, each kiss a promise and a plea. 

But how could you forget the true reality around you - this dingy prison cell where the person you felt the most conflicted for held the key. And with each second, he tempted you into this swirling vortex of his carnal hunger, the slickness of your mixed saliva and the dizzying sensation of his lips a constant reminder of what he truly wanted.

It was clear the silent command he was giving you. 

He had the power to grant you your life back. 

And if you wanted it, you needed to work for it.

That look on his face, the one that Jingliu refused to see, returned back in full force. It was predatory, charged with a lust that had long been at bay. And now, Jing Yuan held the reins, his eyes gleaming as he finally claimed the upper hand.

You hated him.

Why was he the only thing you had left?

Had he planned this all along?

All you felt was molten fury, wanting to spit at his face and push him aside.

You surrendered to his embrace, reciprocating his kiss with a fervent response. Waving that internal white flag, Jing Yuan had all but broken down every last barrier in a total victory. His tongue explored every contour of your mouth, leaving no inch untouched, as if staking a possessive claim over your very essence.

Suddenly he pushed you down with an unexpected force, the impact jolting through your body as you landed flat on your ass, the rough surface grazing your already tattered clothing. Gasping, you barely had a moment to gather your thoughts before the general followed suit. With Jing Yuan’s knees on either side of your hips, he loomed over you, his presence dominating as his lower garments were pushed down further and further.

Your mind teetered on the brink between shock and arousal, allowing only seconds of thought before Jing Yuan had unapologetically held his cock inches from your face.

The veins, engorged and pulsating, seemed to dance beneath his velvety, erect flesh. The prominent ridge glistened with a bead of pre-cum, its presence nearly tangible in the charged air. The sight of it, so close to your face, ignited a primal fire within you. And without thought, you licked at your lips, a reflexive reaction to the sudden craving for the taste of him. 

You had rejected him, constantly. 

Refused to look in his direction.

And yet here you were, eyes drinking in every nuance and curve of his bold offering.

The general’s smirk deepened, a predator reveling in the sight of his prey's desire. With a firm grip carding through your hair, he roughly forced your head closer to the throbbing, tenacious length of his cock. He was surprisingly gentle as he rubbed his hard dick against your face - the hot, slick flesh slapping against your skin.

For so long you only had biting words and quick rebuttals, calling him nothing more than a boy for decades. 

Even if you gave up your body to him, there was still that undeniable indignant look on your face as he rubbed his hard length against your skin. Jing Yuan would give anything to be in your head right now, imagining all the scathing words that you were surely throwing at him with each passing second.

He had broken your defenses, ruined all your plans to keep him at bay.

The general’s eyes glimmered with dark satisfaction at the sight of your submission. The absence of your fiery verbal retorts, the hallmark of your indomitable spirit, struck an unexpected chord within him. 

He wanted more.

Jing Yuan wanted to ruin you.

Being gentle and kind did nothing, falling only on deaf ears. It was only when you were cornered, trapped and alone, did you finally take a second glance in his direction.

You could barely manage tentative, small licks at the head of Jing Yuan's throbbing cock. The salty taste of his arousal danced on your tongue. With an unrelenting yet deliberate force, he pushed your head further, forcing you to take more of his length between your lips. The intrusion stretched you, cheeks hollowing as you struggled to accommodate him.

The general’s eyes raked over your flushed features, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the slight tremor that followed his shallow thrusts. How many nights had he imagined this very sight? From under his desk to the soft sheets of his bedroom, Jing Yuan must have thought of taking you over a thousand times. The dreams of you disheveled beneath his touch was nothing compared to the submissive, wide-eyed expression you were shooting him now. 

Jing Yuan knew that your apparent submission to him was nothing but a ruse, glimmers of defiance still shimmering in your gaze. He could almost hear the torrent of curses that must have been flung his way in the privacy of your thoughts. And oddly enough, the knowledge that you were harboring this fierce, passionate hatred for him held a perverse allure for Jing Yuan. He wanted to hear every venomous word from your lips, more passionate than he had ever seen you.

It was better than the cold vacuum of indifference.

“Choke on my cock, sweetheart.”

You let out a small, involuntary moan, embarrassed at how his harshness had ignited a fierce pang of want in the pit of your stomach. The sight of Jing Yuan's triumphant smirk only served to stoke it further, pushing your head down as he forced you to accept his length more fully.

Each time you tried to pull back, his hips would follow, driving himself deeper. There was no fighting his strength, especially as he loomed over you with his cock down your lips.

It was obscene, the guttural sound of his hard length entering your mouth. Your hands flew to his stomach, open palms against his clothes as he overwhelmed your senses. But it hardly held him back, more and more inches disappearing behind your lips. 

“Mhmmm—!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to return the favor later.” He murmured appreciatively, enjoying the view.

Unable to resist, you could not help but look up at him, eyes locking as he rushed to thrust impossibly deeper.  You regretted the eye contact a second later, since you felt his cock twitch in your mouth at the connection. Of course he loved any amount of attention you would give him.

He was insatiable.

And you had been making him worse and worse, a ticking time bomb until he could forcibly stake his claim.

You could only imagine what you looked like, panting like a whore in need as you choked on his cock, the only one you had ever sucked. 

He fucked your mouth like a hole, eyes rolling heavenward as he was relentless in his movements. You could barely move your tongue, his thrusts merciless even in the face of your tears. Even worse, shame pooled in your stomach as you felt slick pool at your cunt, turned on somehow by his rough handling.  

The general lifted a knee upward, forcing an even deeper angle down your throat as tears trailed down your cheeks. The sudden, brutal change in position left you gagging, throat constricting in a futile effort to resist the invasion.

You nearly screamed for mercy before he pushed you off entirely, barely catching yourself with outstretched palms on the floor.

“I hate you.” You spit out, unable to stop yourself.

But his smirk only grew, gentle hands methodically peeling each article of clothing from your body. The tattered garments, your last vestiges of dignity, fell like a rain of defeat to the cold, unyielding floor of the prison cell.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Pride all but shattered, you could only do as he asked as he maneuvered you facing the prison bars. Your palms were splayed out on the rough ground, knees digging into the uneven crevices of the prison. 

The bed was for lovers, Jing Yuan was fucking you like a whore.

A cacophony of curses raged in your mind. Your fury, however, faltered at the sound of a throat clearing, the interruption echoing past the prison bars. The realization of the two guards flanking the door, their attention fixed on the wall in the distance, weighed heavy on your heart. They could not see you, but surely they could hear every single moan and movement.

Fear prickled at the base of your spine, a reminder that your forced intimacy was not as private as you had initially presumed. 

Truly, there was no one in the entirety of the Xianzhou who was on your side. 

Not anymore.

Your eyes, now wide with apprehension, flickered from the guards to Jing Yuan, uncertainty and trepidation clouding your gaze. And, of course, what had the asshole done? The general simply kept on smirking, that infuriating look on his face making it clear he knew about your worry.

“All will know that you are mine.”

He shoved you further, head down ass up as he kneeled down behind you. You expected more rough handling, a vicious cock down your hole at best.  But instead a soft, wet appendage rubbed about your clit. You whined in surprise as he licked your lower pearl, fingers trailing circles along your entrance. 

The last thing you expected him to do was give you any pleasure, focused solely on him. 

His fingers, trailing gentle circles around your now-sensitive entrance, left you on the precipice between shock and arousal. The change in his demeanor, from the strong general to a teasing lover, left your heart racing, your body caught between desire for his touch and the lingering fear that their privacy was a fragile, fleeting illusion.

“ This is my greatest treasure.” He clarified, his breath felt right on your skin. 

You groaned once more, feeling him lick and prod at your hole. 

You could endure his rough handling and harsh words, but Jing Yuan’s version of love was a torment of another kind. It was a twisted, sinister force, dark and corrupted. Each kiss carried a haunting shadow, every touch a reminder of the darkness entwining his affection. 

His love was a cruel paradox, making you question every moment of tenderness you shared in the past. 

Jing Yuan cradled the skin of your hips gently, his fingers delving into your velvety depths with a tenderness that was both unexpected and disconcerting. His thumb, circling your engorged clit, teased a sweet, exquisite ache, while his tongue flicked at your entrance in delicate, probing motion, each touch drawing a guttural moan from your parted lips.

The gentle invasion of both digits and tongue, however, was hard to deny. The pleasure that blossomed within you fought against even your mental resistance. Fear and lust mingled, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice.

In this quiet moment, the only sounds were your ragged moans, the soft wet suction of his mouth, and the squelching of his fingers entering and withdrawing from you. The tenderness of his actions made you squirm uncomfortably, expecting more from the general. 

But Jing Yuan was deliberate in his slow actions, tongue dancing along the contours of your clit, and eliciting delicious shudders through your quivering body. Your thighs trembled, the muscles tensing around his head as he feasted on you, savoring the sight of your body succumbing to the ebb and flow of his expert touch.

“Please--!”

“Please what, my love?”

But you refused to answer further, choosing instead to roll your hips, your body pleading for more of his touch. Jing Yuan reveled in the attention, the desperate plea in your voice only fueling his satisfaction. His fingers moved with swift purpose, exploring your depths until only his knuckles remained outside your messy hole. 

“More, more!” 

You teetered on the edge of begging, your parted lips dripping with saliva as you struggled to contain yourself. Jing Yuan heard your desperate pleas, but for whatever reason refused to yield to your words. Each repetition of his name escaped your lips like a fervent prayer, punctuated by the rhythm of your shallow breaths. The sound elicited a guttural moan from him, a raw expression of arousal as his tongue danced tantalizingly over your lower pearl.

“Who do you belong to?”

You were keenly aware of the answer Jing Yuan desired and the allure to comply with his wishes was almost overwhelming. He had you panting, your breath hitching in your throat as you eagerly rolled your hips back in time with his fingers, craving every inch of his touch. With each movement, you were propelled closer to the precipice of ecstasy, your body trembling with anticipation. His tongue traced rough circles on your pearl, each stroke igniting a fiery wave of pleasure that surged through your veins. You were on the cusp of climax, your hips rolling in rhythmic harmony with his touch as you chased the elusive edge of release.

“Who do you belong to?” The general asked again.

He had your body.

The only thing you could afford left was your mind, and stupidly you refused to give in.

“ No one .” You barely uttered a response, stubborn even as you panted like a bitch in heat.

“No one, huh?” Jing Yuan chuckled, not surprised by your continued resistance.

He would enjoy making you take that back.

Your whines of frustration filled the air as he abruptly ceased his actions, leaving you dangling on the precipice of cumming. You were on the brink of finishing, the tantalizing edge of release just within reach. His chuckle cut through the silence, mocking your desperate movements as you shamelessly thrust your hips towards him, consumed by a primal need to release the building tension. 

With a firm grip, he lifted your hips, pressing your front against the unforgiving ground as you struggled to muster the strength to support yourself. The unmistakable sensation of his cock against your backside sent a pang of short-lived happiness, his arousal pressing against the tender skin of your ass, a silent promise of what was to come.

Your desperate whimpers filled the air as his girthy length continued to evade you, teasingly rubbing against your heated skin. A surge of need flooded through you as he toyed with your clit, his hand wrapping around your front to caress your cunt with tantalizing strokes. With agonizing slowness, he traced the outline of his erect cock against your slick entrance, each time making you moan. The teasing friction left you trembling as you yearned for him to finally plunge into you fully.

“Please more--!”

“Perhaps you can take a lesson in patience.” He murmured against you, leaning in to plant kisses along your back. His white hair grazed your skin, causing an involuntary tremble to ripple through you.

“Need more, please please please…” You repeated absently.

“Then give yourself fully to me.” He commanded.

But you, in your stupid brain, refused yet again to give in.

With calculated precision, Jing Yuan teased the head of his shaft at your entrance, eliciting gasps of pleasure from both of you. The yearning for more was undeniable, a mutual desire to envelop him whole. 

His heated moan reverberated in your ear, sending waves of arousal through your body as his free hand explored your form. With a fierce grip, Jing Yuan seized the soft skin of your breast, his touch both demanding and electrifying. With each shallow thrust, his urgency grew, pressing against your skin with an intoxicating intensity.

“Give in, my love.” He whispered in your ear hotly, his deep voice making you clench around nothing. “I am the only one who can make you feel this good.”

You shook your head in denial, but you were unable to convince even yourself anymore that this was the right choice.

“Fine, I can make this night much worse for you.”

Before you could even rethink your refusal, Jing Yuan seized your hips once more, exerting pressure to push the plush curves of your ass together as he slid his hard cock between them. 

“Wait-!”

You wanted to scream as he rubbed his cock against between your ass cheeks, the sensation brought little pleasure for you. The only source of arousal stemmed from his wandering hand, which continued to caress circles on your sloppy clit.

“This is enough for me, is it enough for you?” Jing Yuan goaded you, still an asshole even as he slowly lost himself to your body.

His escalating moans filled the air, matching the quickening rhythm of his thrusts against the skin of your ass. The sight of him, sweaty and panting, was undeniably enticing, his deep voice resonating as he indulged in pleasure. The seductive allure of his arousal made you yearn for more, already regretting the decision to withhold your answer.

“Please, I take it back! I take it back…!”

He ignored your pleas and thrust against you with a relentless force, showing no signs of stopping. The general harshly pulled your waist back to meet his hips, rubbing the contours of your ass against his throbbing cock. The controlled rhythm of his thrusts dissolved into frantic urgency, his panting breaths a sign of his hurried pursuit of release.

In a final act of cruelty, Jing Yuan positioned himself at your entrance and prodded the head of his shaft at your tight entry. Immediately you clamped down on him, receiving a moan in response as you wanted nothing more than to be fucked. 

Finally were you about to experience relief? 

Or was he about to--?

“Jing Yuan…!”

His cock pierced you with little reprieve, the slap of his balls against your thighs as his warm essence spilled into you. You were hardly close to the end, having been denied by the pause of his teasing hands. His hips pressed firmly against yours as he reached the peak of his ecstasy, an uncomfortable wave coursing through you like a sudden tide.

Jing Yuan indulged in a few more shallow thrusts, relishing the sensation of your hot pussy clamping down on his cock. You could not ignore the uncomfortable sensation of his cum dripping out of your hole, surprised at how much he released inside you. Despite the lingering need for more, you doubted that anything less than total surrender on your part would be acceptable to him.

“Have you made up your mind? If not, I’m not against pushing together your tits and making you watch as I fuck your--”

“Fuck me, Jing Yuan.”

The general notably paused, gently lifting you by the waist to face him. You were effortlessly drawn into his lap, his powerful arms guiding you as you instinctively wrapped yours around his neck. Close to him now, his voice was low and intimate as he spoke.

“What was that, my love?”

“My body belongs to you, do whatever you want with me.”

“Uh-uh, that’s not the right answer and you know it.” He tsked at your words, “You know what I want. Give all of yourself to me.”

You pouted at the general, always astute even as he was losing his sanity.

“All of me is yours.”

“And all of my love is yours.” He replied back, connecting your lips together in a much more intimate embrace.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he kissed you, his lips fervently exploring your skin. He feasted on you, leaving red splotches along your neck and collarbone before descending lavish attention to the soft skin of your nipple. A moan escaped your lips at the sensation, earning a reciprocal groan from Jing Yuan as he reveled in the pleasure you shared.

“ Fuck .” The general murmured this time, a wandering hand going to your pussy to rub circles there yet again.

His firm fingers, hard and calloused from battles, circled your entrance, feeling the remnants of his earlier creampie drip out of you. A moan of appreciation escaped Jing Yuan as he pushed some of his cum back in, eliciting a mixture of surprise and pleasure from you. Despite the odd sensation, he silenced any protests with his passionate tongue on yours.

At the end of your sanity, you rolled your hips against his in a desperate plea to finally feel his hard cock inside you. His groan of approval echoed loudly in the room, happy to see you finally take some initiative.

“Fuck yourself on me, my love.”

Not one to be told twice, you aligned yourself with his erect length and immediately shoved yourself downward. 

A simultaneous groan of pleasure escaped the both of you as you joined together, throwing your head back as you barely managed to maintain your grip around his neck. Jing Yuan enveloped your nipple back into his mouth, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin as you lifted your waist up and down, setting a rhythm that drove you both to new heights of ecstasy.

“That’s it; lose yourself to me.” He encouraged you loudly, his moans resonating in your ear, yet you reciprocated with equally vocal responses.

You watched as even he arched his head backward in sheer pleasure, his eyelids fluttering as he stared at your bouncing tits. With every movement, you fought the urge to release a scream, the sensation on the verge of overwhelming you completely. Sensing your desperation, he effortlessly lifted his hips to meet yours, assisting you as you rode his length up and down.

It was hard to remember your hatred for him as he brought you to new heights never seen before. His long cock hit all the right places, prominent veins running against your slick walls. It beckoned you to give in, to lose yourself and beg for his cum.

Your body glistened with a sheen of sweat, legs locked around his hips as your core enveloped his leaking cock. The cell was alive with the primal sounds of your coupling, the slap of flesh against flesh punctuating the air in a rhythm that mirrored the pounding of your heart. Encouraged by his support, Jing Yuan intensified the rhythm, urging you to delve deeper and move faster, propelling you both towards the edge of euphoria with each relentless thrust.

“I’m.. close! More more more…!” You babbled without thought, making his dick twitch at your unabashed whine.

“Cum around my cock.” The general urged you on, “My sweet, sweet love.”

The frenzied pace of your hips accelerated, bodies colliding in an undeniable chase of raw want. In that moment, time seemed to stretch and warp, as the crescendo of your climax blinded you like a flash of lightning. The world around you dissolved, leaving your body to writhe and buckle under the euphoric onslaught. The spasms of your orgasm rippled through you, each contraction of your inner walls like a vice around Jing Yuan's shaft.

You felt your essence mix in your belly, spilling out as Jing Yuan continued in his onslaught. You cried out in a mixture of pleasure and new pain, your senses overwhelmed by the stimulation as he continued to fuck your womb with unbridled fervor, treating you like an abandoned, wet hole. Desperately, you pushed at his hard abs, pleading for him to cease, but he remained undeterred, thrusting into your pussy with the unstoppable determination of a man possessed.

“Less, less! No more Jing Yuan!” You begged between tears.

“You gave yourself up to me. Which means I decide when you are done.”

“Wha…”

“Open your mouth.”

You mechanically followed his request, your body bouncing in rhythm with each forceful thrust into your tight cunt. The inches of his hard cock rubbed deliciously against your velvety walls; you barely grasped his movement as he leaned closer, his dominance palpable as he spat down your throat. It was a visceral display of his control, leaving you breathless under his commanding presence.

You swallowed his saliva without question, your mouth opening wider as if beckoning more. His moan of approval reverberated throughout the room. Meanwhile, his cock appeared to swell even larger inside your sloppy pussy, responding eagerly to your submissive display.

Possessed to get a deeper angle, he seized your hips and swiftly flipped you around, placing you on your back on the unforgiving ground. You grimaced momentarily at the sudden movement, but before you could protest, he lifted a single knee to rest on his shoulder, positioning himself for better access. The angle was torturous, his thrusts delving further inside you, amplifying the already heightened sensitivity of your dripping wet pussy.

“Jing Yuan…!” You repeated his name continuously, singing high praises that stoked his ever growing ego.

“What do you want me to do, my love?”

“Cum inside me..!” You screamed out this time, sure that all the other prisoners could definitely hear you.

He smiled like a man overtaken by desire, before crashing his lips onto yours, a hand behind your head steadying you against him. Lost in the overwhelming pleasure, you could barely respond to his open mouth kisses. The harsh slap of his balls against your skin barely registered amidst the cacophony of pleasure coursing through you. All your focus was on the hard length of his shaft disappearing further into your eager cunt, each thrust driving you further into a blissful oblivion.

All you could hear was your name, spilled eagerly from his lips.

It was somehow too much and not enough, all at once. 

He maneuvered another one of your legs above his shoulder, ensnaring you in an unyielding mating press from which there was no escape. Drool escaped your mouth as he thrust downward into you, his movements devoid of rhythm as he relentlessly pursued his own climax. Your shared essences splashed disgustingly with each roll of his hips, the slick sounds loud as his cock pierced you. He was a man driven solely by desire, his golden eyes darkened as he fucked you with reckless abandon.

Abruptly, Jing Yuan's body stiffened, his hips jerking forward to press against yours. Once again, he released his hot cum deep within your stuffed pussy, the scorching liquid overflowing into your womb and cascading onto the floor below in a torrential rush. You felt many dribbles down and across your trembling thighs. Despite your overflowing cunt, Jing Yuan refused to part, plugging up your still-quivering entrance.

“I love you more than I know how to love. And I will spend every day reminding you of that fact.” He murmured on your skin, breath warm as he spoke.

Your senses returned to you immediately, a wave of shame and embarrassment washing over you. You berated yourself for succumbing to Jing Yuan's advances, feeling foolish and naive for allowing him to cloud your judgment. There was no way the general would ever let you forget the day you begged for his cock like a whore.

And now, it was highly possible that this coupling would connect your fates together in a future child forevermore.

The weight of regret must have been evident on your face, as Jing Yuan responded by rolling his hips and pressing his lips to your neck in a tender gesture. Despite the discomfort brewing in your lower regions, he only responded with a deep, satisfied moan, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil raging within you.

You were in awe at the sudden realization.

There was undoubtedly still a hard, erect cock inside you.

“Oh my god.” You could not help but comment.

“Perhaps I am better off fucking you within an inch of your life?” He punctuated his question with another shallow thrust, “This seems more to your liking than gestures of my love and affection.”

You hated him.

You hated how well he knew every inch of your soul.

And you especially hated how the veins of his cock felt against your messy pussy.

But Jing Yuan remained indifferent to your pleas. 

He was determined to demonstrate just how much he loved and wanted you, his actions speaking louder than words ever could. Despite your constant begging for reprieve, for him to pause and give you a moment's respite, Jing Yuan showed no signs of stopping. He continued to fuck you relentlessly on the floor, heedless of your tears. He lifted you against the wall next, adjusting your legs wide above his shoulder to reach an even deeper angle.

“No! No more please…!”

“I will make you regret ever seeing me as less than a man.” He whispered against your skin, balls slapping against you.

And you cried even more as he brought you to the bars of your prison cell. Your heart sank as you caught sight of the guards stationed at your door, the sole witnesses to the scene unfolding before them. Desperately, you begged Jing Yuan to stop, to consider the audience to his actions, but he remained unfazed. With a callous disregard for your pleas and ears of the guards, he pierced his cock into you against the cold metal bars, his climax marking yet another instance of his dominance over you, uncaring of the audience as he released himself inside your womb.

Jing Yuan claimed he was making you pay for your freedom. 

He subjected every inch of your body to his abuse, leaving a trail of red hickies adorning your skin as he claimed your body. From your sopping pussy to your small hands to your bruised tits, his mouth had explored every inch of your flesh, leaving you unable to keep track of the countless times he spilled his cum inside you.

In hindsight, you doubted there would be a single night henceforth that did not end with him emptying his balls in your hot cunt. 

Perhaps being sold as a slave to the IPC was a more merciful fate than this.

You woke up in an unfamiliar place, sprawled on a vast bed covered in layers of plush, fluffy blankets. As you sat up, the luxurious feel of fine silks against your skin caught your attention. The loose robe you wore was exquisite, its fabric whispering against your freshly cleaned skin. 

Despite the soft, decadent surroundings, the marks Jing Yuan had left on you remained, stark reminders of the previous night's intensity. 

Your hair, now free of knots and tangles, flowed smoothly over your shoulders, a far cry from the disheveled state it had been in during your imprisonment.  The room around you exuded opulence, a stark contrast to the cold, harsh cell you had endured for a seemingly unending amount of time.

“‘Morning, my love.” Jing Yuan greeted as he entered from the other room. 

He had that same infuriating smirk on his face, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he approached the bed. Placing his palms firmly on the mattress, he leaned over to you as he brushed his lips against your forehead in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Perhaps we can go clothing shopping together today.”

The audacity of Jing Yuan to sport such a carefree smile, oblivious or perhaps taking joy in the turmoil he had inflicted upon you. How could he possibly pretend that everything was alright after coercing you into surrendering your very existence?

Your simmering anger must have been palpable, evident in the tightening of your jaw and the quiet fire smoldering in your eyes. Yet, instead of recoiling at your fury, Jing Yuan's smirk only widened, his demeanor remaining infuriatingly composed as he observed your seething discontent.

“Or would you rather stay here?” He tapped the bed with his fingers, “I’m sure we can think of plenty to do.”

You pushed away the blankets and stood, “I’d rather go out.”

“Without me, right?”

You held your tongue, eyes ablaze with tapered fury. In the face of Jing Yuan's smug demeanor, you feared that silence was the only retort you were allowed to show.

The general leaned over the bed, catching your elbow and shoving you back onto the bed.

“Say it.” He goaded you as he loomed over your body, a hand caressing the cascade of hair that spilled around you.

“What?”

“I can almost hear those scathing comments you once graced me with. I want to hear it.”

“I hate you.” 

You seized the chance to finally speak your mind, refusing to hold back as your statement held every ounce of hatred you harbored towards him. Perhaps you would express yourself more in as many ways as he would tolerate.

“Again, my love.” He whispered against your skin, lowering himself to nip at your neck.

“I hate you more than anything and anyone.”

“How passionate you must feel for me.” How infuriating his tone was, if only because Jing Yuan was being genuine. “I’ll be what inhabits your mind for all time. Your love, your hatred - this is enough for me.”

“I will never love you.”

His tongue traced a path along the curve of your collarbone, leaving a lingering sensation that you decidedly chose to ignore. With a slow, deliberate movement, he then brought his nose to your neck, inhaling deeply as if to fully appreciate your scent, the creep.

Foreheads pressed together, your gaze locked with his, unable to look away from his golden gaze.

“And I cannot wait to prove you wrong.”

[altee-221]

"Should I Call Rebecca?"

It’s halfway through the movie when it happens.

Carlos is relaxed. Too relaxed. The popcorn in his lap has become community property, stolen by the shameless hands of Lando, Charles, and occasionally George from the row behind.

The movie’s good. Flashy. Slick. Brad Pitt delivers every line like it’s made of gravel and tragedy. Damson Idris has people giggling with one raised eyebrow. There’s real racing footage spliced in between the drama. The drivers keep pointing at each other every time one of them flickers past.

Carlos has spotted himself once. Maybe twice. Always in the background. Grainy. Helmet on. Safe.

He is not worried.

Until the bar scene.

The music drops to a sultry little hush. Damson leans on the counter. There’s a girl beside him. She twirls her straw in her drink, raises an eyebrow.

“Wait, So you’re in like F1 ?” “Yeah.” “Can you introduce me to Carlos Sainz?”

Silence.

The theatre does not breathe.

And then—like a wave hitting a wall—every single person in the room turns.

Row after row. Seats creaking. Necks swiveling. The collective force of every living soul in Times Square shifting their attention.

Carlos freezes.

Charles inhales a wheeze so deep it echoes. Lando lets out a “HA!” so loud that the screen actually buffers. George kicks the back of Carlos’s seat in unfiltered joy.

“DID SHE JUST—” “SHE DID!” “INTRODUCE HER TO—” “TO HIM!”

Toto shouts from three rows back:

“Sainz! You didn’t tell us you were the lead romantic interest!”

Carlos, hands in the air:

“I didn’t know!” “I’m not even in that scene!”

“Carlos,” Charles says solemnly from beside him trying act as serious as possible. “Should I… should I call Rebecca?”

The entire row howls.

James Vowles, proud as a parent at a school play:

“She didn’t stutter. She knew what she wanted.”

Yuki, nearly falling over two rows ahead:

“SHE’S JUST LIKE ME FR.”

Carlos covers his face with both hands.

“I was told I wasn’t even in the movie,” he says into the void.

Lando’s still chanting:

“Should I call Rebecca? Should I call Rebecca?” “Hello, Rebecca? He’s RIGHT HERE. HOLD HIM BACKKK!!”

Oscar, helpfully:

“She’s got taste.”

Charles just pats Carlos’s knee and whispers, “It’s okay. You’re famous now.”

The actors are laughing now. Actual Hollywood actors. Brad Pitt is giggling. Damson has turned in his seat, twisted all the way around to grin at Carlos like he planned this personally.

“Told you, man. You’re global.”

Carlos is red. Visibly red. He sinks lower into his chair.

“I didn’t sign anything. I wasn’t mic’d. I was in the back.” “I was drinking a smoothie when they filmed that weekend.”

But it’s not over. Because then—it cuts.

New scene. No dialogue. Just golden hour.

The shot.

A slow pan.

Pit lane. Warm light.

And then—Carlos. On full screen. Alone.

Wearing nothing but a team polo. Wrinkled. Slightly crooked. A water bottle in hand. Earphones dangling.

The sunset hits just right. Hair backlit. Shoulders relaxed. Somehow the air moves around him like it’s in love.

He’s walking. No hurry. No pose. Just walking.

BUT he’s smiling.

Soft. Lazy. That golden-retriever kind of smile—like someone just told him a secret they knew he wouldn’t share. Like he’s in a good mood for no reason. Like he’s happy just to exist in that light, in that second, in that exact place.

The sunlight loves him. It glows off the curve of his cheeks makeing him look like a painting that accidentally learned how to move.

And the theatre erupts.

Chaos.

Pure, unfiltered chaos.

Lando: screaming. Charles: on the floor.

George yells, “I’M CALLING BECCA RIGHT NOW.” Oscar climbs over Carlos’s lap just to dramatically place his hand on Carlos’s heart and say, “This belongs to the people now.”

Toto is audibly crying with laughter. Lewis whispers reverently, “Oh, he is the moment.”

From somewhere in the crowd:

“WHY IS HE SMILING LIKE THAT?” “WHO SMILES IN GOLDEN LIGHT FOR FREE??”

Yuki, full volume:

“WHY IS THIS BETTER THAN THE ENDING OF LA LA LAND??”

Carlos is on the verge of tears.

“I was walking back from the catering tent.” “I had potato salad in the other hand.”

Oscar: “Potato salad didn’t make the cut. Your face did.”

Brad Pitt, somewhere near the front, turns around and lifts a hand like he’s hailing a king.

“Carlos Sainz, everybody. Star of stage and screen.”

Damson adds, grinning, “We didn’t colour-grade that shot. That was just raw footage. The sun did that for him.”

Carlos sinks into his seat.

“I’m never showing my face again.” “I’m gonna tell the team I’ve retired.”

Lando, gleeful:

“From motorsport?” “Or from being devastatingly handsome?”

[hauntedbysmut]

Through His Lens

Tags: photo shoot, boudoir photos, partially clothed, teasing, tension, Raf is a pussy eating fiend, PiV sex, switch! Rafayel

Feel free to take the link or read below the cut.

Gentle brushstrokes pressed into the canvas as Rafayel sat before it. His eyes flicked to the camera beside him, a picture on the tiny screen the inspiration for his newest piece. A small smile graced his lips as he created the impression of the plush red of her lips, the deep black of her lashes, and the gentle curve of her spine. Setting down the brushes, he stretched his arms over his head and stood from the stool he had been perched on for who knows how long.

His bare feet padded silently toward his bedroom, the moonlight from outside gilding her sleeping form in his blankets. Reaching her side, he admired her. Her lips were slightly parted, her brow smooth, and her breaths soft. He brushed her cheek with the back of his finger, smiling as she unconsciously pressed her face into his touch. He pulled the blankets up to cover her bare shoulder and walked back out to his studio.

Evening sunset eyes lit on the small piles of gauze shoved against the wall, his hand touching the ladder next to them now cold without her warmth. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, their combined scent faint, but still hanging in the air like a mist. A sigh passed his lips and he drew the memories of the evening forward into his mind.

She'd shown up in her usual casual wear, a duffle bag slung over her shoulder full of outfits and props. She'd given him a tentative smile, a flash of nervous excitement in her face as she moved further into the studio. He'd smiled back, noting the slight shake in her hand as she reached for him, the way her eyes took in every part of the room, including the props he had placed out.

“You don't have to do this, you know,” he murmured into her hair as she hugged him.

“I want to. I-” She bit her lip. “I need to see myself in a less harsh light.” She looked up at him, eyes searching his for confirmation.

“You know I already think you're beautiful, so this is totally up to you.” His voice was surprisingly soft. She smiled at him a little wider.

“It sounds to me like you're the one trying to get out of doing this. Worried you'll do a bad job?”

He scoffed. “You may think of me as an amateur photographer, but I'll have you know that the seagulls were thrilled with the pictures I took of them last week.”

She giggled and he watched as her shoulders relaxed. She dropped her bag at his feet and he pushed her toward the stool by the mirror he'd set up against the wall. Leaning down, he rummaged through her bag to pull out her makeup, setting it down in her lap as he unceremoniously dumped the rest of her bag onto the floor.

“Hey! What the hell, fishie?”

“It's all going to end up there eventually. I'm just moving things along.” He came back to stand in front of her and unzipped the small clutch of products. “Now shut up and let me work, cutie.”

She shot him a half-hearted glare as he rifled through the different items. She sat quietly, her leg jiggling with nerves against the bar of the stool as he worked. He curled her eyelashes before sweeping a couple of layers of mascara over them. He gently patted a subtle gold eyeshadow onto her eyelids, and gave her a thin line of eyeliner to make them pop even more. He lined her lips with a deep red before pressing the lipstick to the pillowy portion of them, blending the two with a tissue and topping it with a clear gloss to make them shine. A small amount of blush was tapped onto her cheeks above the contour he'd applied, and he finished everything off with a touch of highlighter to the inner corners of her eyes and tops of her cheeks.

He stepped back and nodded to himself before gesturing to the mirror. “Take a look.”

She shifted her gaze to the mirror, her heart thudding as she studied her own face. The makeup was natural, accentuating her features in a way she had struggled to achieve before on her own. Her eyes looked bright and wide, her lashes long and dark, her lips juicy, the apples of her cheeks high and rounded. She stared in stunned silence as he fidgeted next to her, waiting for her appraisal. Moisture gathered in her eyes. He stilled and leaned in close to her.

“It looks… really good,” she choked out.

Rafayel handed her a tissue, and she dabbed delicately to soak up the tears that hadn't begun to fall. When she looked back toward him, he was holding out a dark blue lingerie set that she didn't recognize.

“When you mentioned you wanted to do this, I took the liberty of doing some shopping for you.” His cheeks pinkened slightly as she reached out to touch the fabric. The silk slid through her fingertips and a small shiver worked its way up her spine.

“Go try it on.” His voice was gentle but firm.

She took a deep breath and bent to grab the silk robe that she had brought to wear initially. In his bathroom, she drew the fabric against her skin, a true blush rising to her face as she admired the effect of the blue silk and lace. Her hands dragged down her body, closing her eyes as she felt the different textures - the soft texture of her stomach into the silk of the lower cup of the bra into the lace over her nipples. It was a perfect fit. For the first time since she had arrived at Rafayel's house, she felt a thrill of pure excitement. The robe pulled over her shoulders, she tied it loosely at her waist before walking back to the studio.

Rafayel was pulling a pale red gauzy fabric over his ladder, turning his head this way and that before stepping back and taking a test shot with his camera. Without turning to her, he said, “You should probably stretch before we start. Some of these poses are going to be harder than you think.” He continued to move the fabric as she spread her legs and folded to touch her toes.

Somewhat satisfied with the draping he'd achieved, he turned toward her.

His breathing stuttered. His eyes trailed along her spine as she bent over. The smooth skin of her legs flowed from beneath the robe, the tease of the lingerie peeking from the back where it rode up slightly. The v at the front showed the top of her bra's lace. His ears heated as she continued to move through more stretches. It was minutes of torture while he watched her.

She shook out her arms and rolled her head along her neck. “I'm ready,” she said, pulling at the tie of her robe.

Rafayel coughed into his hand. “Great!”

The fabric dropped from her and pooled on the floor. His ears felt like they were on fire, and he knew that the blush that heated them was spreading across his cheeks. He glanced away, his eyes flitting back and forth between her and the “set” he had created as he tried to tamp down on his reaction. She was a vision in blue. Her chest was slightly flushed as she fought the urge to cover herself.

“Let’s start with something simple.” Rafayel directed her to stand in front of the ladder. “Place your hands on the top rung you can reach, then arch your back, head up, and push your…” he paused. “Push your hips backward so you feel a stretch in the backs of your thighs.”

She moved into position, the panties riding up on her ass, and Rafayel moved behind her, bringing the camera up to his eye. “Just like that.” She heard several snaps of the camera and the light shuffle of his feet as he got her from several different angles. He shifted to her right side. “Look at the camera,” he whispered. She turned her head and stared into the lens. “Bite your lip.” Her teeth sunk into her lower lip. He made a small sound in his throat as the shutter clicked several times. Peering at the screen on his camera, he nodded. “Good.” He swallowed heavily.

“Can I see?” She asked, curious. He nodded and turned the screen toward her as she relaxed her arms, rolling her shoulders and hips to loosen her back again. He flipped through them quickly. With each consecutive picture, she felt her self-confidence rising. Whether it was the way he had framed them or the inherent sexiness of the photos, she could understand why other women did this.

He posed her in several more ways in the studio before directing her to the bedroom. “Lay on the bed with your head close to the edge. It should barely be hanging off.” He helped bring her hair to flow off of the bed with her. “Push your right hand into your hair, left hand lightly against your throat, arch your back, and pull your legs up so they create an opposing angle with your back, pointing your toes a little bit into the mattress.” It took several adjustments, and her abs clenched with the effort to hold the pose. Rafayel moved around her quickly, directing her gaze several times as he shifted.

When he finally gave her the go-ahead to relax, he cleared his throat and she looked up at him. “Do you want to do any uh… partially clothed… poses?” His ears were blazing red and she smirked to herself at his reaction.

“Yeah, I think I’m ready for that.” She sat up, reaching behind her and unhooking the eyes of the bra. Eyes locked on Rafayel, she pulled the straps from her arms before grabbing the center between the cups and pulling it from her torso.

Rafayel’s eyes shifted to the ceiling and she giggled. “How are you going to take the pictures if you can’t even look at your subject?” she teased.

He glanced at her quickly and his cheeks deepened in color. He coughed into his hand before he seemed to purposely drag his eyes to hers and hold them. “Same pose as last time, but covering your breasts this time.”

The shoot continued, the tension rising steadily with each new pose. On her knees, she refused to cover her nipples and arched her back, dropping her head back and pressing a hand to her stomach and throat. Rafayel made a tortured sound and she grinned as she heard the shuffle of feet and the rapidfire photos.

Suddenly, his footsteps moved away. She leaned back up to sit back on her heels and looked around his room. He was nowhere to be found.

“Rafayel?” She called.

He reentered the room with a long piece of red gauze. “The lighting is almost perfect, but I had an idea.” He pulled her knees so her legs straightened back out and tossed the fabric onto her torso. He let the camera hang from his neck as he shifted it around, pressing on either side of her breasts until her nipples hardened and pressed against it. She felt a blush heat her chest at the proximity of his hands to them. A single sweep of those long fingers and he could brush the hardened peaks that she could swear were broadcasting for him. She pressed her legs together as the heat spread throughout her body. A flash of his hands on her with nothing between them filled her mind’s eye and she groaned out loud. Rafayel froze, looking up at her with wide, desperate eyes.

Her lips parted and a hot breath puffed past her lips as she waited to see what he would do.

He pulled his hands back as if he had been burned, grabbing his camera and raising it to his eye, snapping a picture of her before she was ready. He looked down at the preview and bit his lip. The evening glow coming through the window created ambient streaks across her bare skin, the fabric holding and blocking it in different places where the creases lie. The sharp peaks of her nipples strained against the fabric and her mouth was tipped open, eyes glazed and lusty. He pressed his fingers against his temples, closing his eyes and mentally berating himself for the movement in his increasingly tightening trousers. He looked back up at her and she was watching him with a knowing grin on her face.

With a grimace, he grabbed the edge of the fabric and began to pull. Her back arched, her mouth popping open and a surprised squeak left her as it dragged against her nipples and goosebumps rose on her skin. He paused long enough to lift the camera and pulled again.

Rafayel’s mouth was drier than a desert as his finger repeatedly held the shutter-button, catching every wriggle and gasped breath on camera while the fabric pulled from her body. His erection pressed insistently against his pants and he held the gauze in front of himself as he panted with her.

“Do you have a tripod?” She asked breathily. He nodded, unable to keep his eyes from dragging down her body, her muscles twitching with shivers as she held herself up on her elbows.

He held out his hand for her to take and pulled her up from the bed back toward the studio. The bare ladder came into view and he backed her up against it, his clothed chest brushing against her skin and sending more shudders through her. He leaned in and nipped her earlobe. “Climb up a few rungs, but stay facing outward toward me.”

She nodded quickly and repeatedly, her arms reaching back for the rungs of the ladder and climbing up a few steps. Grabbing his tripod from the pile of supplies he had ready, he set it up as quickly as he could, trying to ignore the hard press of his cock into his waistband.

Rafayel adjusted the height, clicked the camera into place, and shifted the angle until it pointed where he wanted it to. He pulled his shirt from his pants, undoing the buttons with dexterous fingers, eager to remove it as quickly as possible. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time, the awareness zinging through his body and exciting him further. With a last check of the camera angle, he set the timer and strode over to the ladder, standing just beneath her. Her head was slightly higher than his, and he had to tilt his head backward to look at her.

His fingertips grazed her ribs and she shivered, placing her hands over his shoulders and looking down at him. His eyes were practically purple, the blue and pink dark and hot as they stared into hers. Her hand skimmed the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the hairs along his nape. He leaned his head into her shoulder and she turned her head to press her lips to his cheek. The snaps of the camera faded into the background as she rubbed her hands across his back, her lips dragging across his face, kissing his moles and breathing against his ear and into his neck as he let his own hands traverse the soft skin of her stomach and thighs.

Stepping back, he undid his buckle and unzipped his pants, letting them drop to his feet before stepping out of them. She climbed tentatively down the ladder and followed him back toward the camera. Shoulders pressed together, they looked through the pictures it had taken. Each one was sensual, the waning light creating shadows in Rafayel’s back muscles and the sides of their faces.

“I have an idea for one,” she said, her voice low and sultry. She backed away toward the bedroom again and Rafayel grabbed the tripod and followed her, intrigued and delighted that she was feeling confident enough to direct them.

Her eyes never left him, even as her knees hit the edge of his bed. “Put the camera down there,” she pointed to the end of the bed. “Then come here.”

Rafayel set it up, an idea of the vision she was creating pervading his mind. He crawled onto the bed next to her and she tutted in annoyance.

“No, silly fishie. On top of me.” Her hand pulled his arm until he was over her, her legs spread wide around his hips as he crawled to lean over her. Her breath tickled his ear, “Grab my ass with this hand.” She tapped his left arm. He pushed his hand under her and his fingers briefly caught along the edge of her underwear as he situated. “Look into my eyes.” Her right hand came up to cup his face, a smile lighting her face as he leaned in for a kiss. She pressed her left hand to his chest, holding him just out of reach of her lips, and he let out a small whine.

“C’mon, cutie…” he pouted. She tilted her chin and brought her lips within breathing distance, still not touching his. His neck strained to press his lips to hers and she giggled at his frustration.

“Time to adjust the camera again,” she said, shimmying out from under him and moving the tripod to angle just above and to the left of their heads.

Instead of scooting back down under him the way she had come out, she walked around behind him, dragging her hand along his side and across the curve of his ass. With a playful swat and a shocked squeak from Rafayel, she dropped her shoulders to the bed, pressing his legs outward and slithering up underneath him from below, letting her lips skim the inside of his thigh as she moved.

His breathing was labored when she got back to his head, and his ears and cheeks were bright with heat, eyes glazed with lust. She pulled him in and kissed him soundly, her lips and tongue pushing against his until he opened and they devoured each other. With a press to his chest, he pulled back, opting to press his lips to her neck and jawline instead. Her eyes closed and she hummed happily. Using her legs to hinge her hips, she pressed her hips into his and he groaned long and low.

“Feeling pent up, baby?” She whispered. He nodded fervently, feeling like a fever was spreading over his skin as the want increased. She stroked his hair back from his eyes and placed a peck to his slightly kiss-swollen lips. “Just one more pose.”

Sitting up and pressing him back onto his heels, she turned and faced the camera. Rafayel waited for direction, not sure what she was intending.

Her hands took his and placed them directly over her breasts. Her head dropped to rest on his shoulder and he leaned his forward to place kisses along her shoulder and the curve of her neck. He squeezed her breasts, lifting them slightly as she moaned. He fit her nipples between his fingers and pulled his hands away from them just enough to give them tension without letting her go. She ground back against his cock, the wet spot on his boxer briefs growing as pre-cum leaked from his tip.

His hands began to shift, knowing the camera had already gotten the pose she wanted. One hand moved up to cup her chin, lifting her head so he could lick and suck against her neck while the other slipped down her stomach and cupped her through her panties. The silk was wet, her inner thighs shaking slightly as he dragged two fingers against the seam of her. He ground against her ass again, breathing heavily into her neck as his exploration continued.

Without warning, she pulled away, shoving him backward until he was flat on the bed, a dazed and confused expression pulling his eyebrows together. She reached out and pressed her hand against his erection, running a fingertip over the wet spot and smirking before sticking that same finger into her mouth and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. “You taste so good, baby,” she said, climbing over him.

Hands gripped her thighs as she moved higher and higher on his body, the smell of her arousal becoming stronger and stronger the closer she got. His mouth watered in anticipation, hoping her goal was the same as his now was.

She dropped her hips when her pussy was above his mouth. “Lick,” she ordered, her eyes glassy and dark with heat.

His tongue darted out and flattened against the crotch of her panties, licking a stripe up and groaning with pleasure as her taste burst across his tastebuds. “Fuck, princess, please.”

“You want me?” she whispered, lifting her hips as he tried to lick her again. He nodded aggressively.

“Say it, Raf. Tell me what you want.” He clamped his hands down on her thighs, fingers digging into the flesh and pulling against her. He whined and she felt his hips buck into the air, no doubt craving the friction she was denying both of them.

“I want to lick you,” he murmured petulantly. “Please…”

“Good boy.” She stroked his cheek and dropped her hips back to his mouth.

He dove in with fervor, his lips and tongue working her through the satiny material. She dug her hands into his hair and let her weight rest just above his head. Her head fell back and a series of broken moans left her mouth. A sudden heat hit her inner thighs and the gusset of the panties melted away.

“Rafayel!” He hummed contently as he shoved his nose against her clit and she squealed as his tongue entered her. “Oh, fuck!” He dragged his tongue through her slick, lapping at her like he was eating his favorite meal. She rocked against him, his nose and tongue alternating pressure on her clit until she was shaking with the force of the orgasm building along her spine. Her incoherent babbling was driving him crazy, and he pulled her down as hard as he could until her weight fully rested against his face and he could delve into her depths the way he wanted to.

With a scream and a cry of his name, she came on his face, his mouth opened wide and tongue striking her clit and labias until she was twitching so hard that she pulled his head back by his hair to get away from the sensation. She fell to the side, her mind blank and blissful.

Distantly, she felt the pull of what was left of her panties pulled from her body and Rafayel readjusting her so her head laid on the pillows at the top of the mattress.

She looked up at Rafayel, noticing his new lack of underwear, his cock pink and dripping as he lined it up with her sopping entrance.

“My turn, cutie” he smirked, pressing the full length into her in one slow thrust.

She arched and cried out at the feeling of fullness that suddenly took her, his echoing groan of pleasure creating a symphony of sound between them. His hands grabbed hers and he twined their fingers together, leaning down over her as her feet locked behind his back.

“Eyes on me,” he mumbled as he kissed the edge of her mouth. Her eyes were bleary, unfocused, and he was thrilled at his ability to make her so cock-drunk she couldn’t think anymore.

He began with slow, deep thrusts, their eyes locked together with each gasp, moan, and groan. Releasing a hand, his hand reached down between them as he watched her, fingers deftly circling her clit and causing her eyes to roll back in her head as he picked up the pace.

“So fucking beautiful. So gorgeous even when you don’t believe it. How are you mine?” he babbled to her as he thrust. She lifted her free hand to tangle in his hair, pulling his lips to hers for a deep kiss. Their tongues thrust in time with his cock, breaking to breathe when she felt the familiar tension of her impending orgasm winding tighter and tighter, a bow string ready to snap. His hips crashed against hers, his rhythm becoming sloppier as he got closer, his own climax dangerously close. “Come for me, baby - fuuuuccckkk - need to feel you come around my cock.”

She keened loudly as her peak crashed into her, her body shaking violently as he thrust a few more times before shallowing his movements and releasing deeply into her. They kissed sloppily, both of them drunk from the pleasure. Rolling from atop her, Rafayel tucked her into the blankets and her heavy eyes blinked at him as they lay together on the pillows.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes beginning to close as she yawned.

“For what?” he whispered back.

“For making me feel beautiful today…” Her breathing evened out and she was asleep. Rafayel gently stroked her hair back from her face, tucking the blanket closer around her body.

“Any time, my bride.”

Hearing the distant click of the camera’s shutter, he looked back over his shoulder to see the camera still clicking away. He climbed from the bed and turned the auto-shutter off, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures that had been taken in the last couple of hours.

Inspiration struck him hard and he pulled his underwear back over his legs as he rushed into the studio, camera in hand, screen showing the picture that had gripped him.

With a fresh canvas placed on his easel and his clean brushes nearby, he sat down on his stool and started to paint.

[bumblebeeswrite]

"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."

maybe?? with our boy—

BEST FRIENDS | DANIEL MARKOWITZ

summary: danny has always been your best friend.

cw: fluff, anxiety, sexual joke at the end, kissing

The chipped mug warmed your hands, a small comfort against the hollowness that had taken root in your chest. Rain lashed against the windowpane of Danny’s small apartment, mirroring the storm brewing inside you. Another one bites the dust, you thought with a bitter laugh that didn't quite reach your eyes. Mark had been… well, Mark had been Mark. Charming on the surface, but ultimately shallow and unwilling to truly see you. The breakup had been messy, punctuated by his bewildered protests that you were “overreacting” to his blatant flirtation with the waitress.

Danny had been your rock through it all, as he always was. He’d answered your tearful call at midnight without a hint of annoyance, offering his couch and a steady supply of bad television and even worse jokes. Now, a few days later, the initial rawness had faded, leaving behind a dull ache and a weariness that settled deep in your bones.

“Rough day?” Danny’s voice was soft, pulling you from your thoughts. He settled onto the worn armchair opposite the couch, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

You managed a weak smile. “You could say that. I just… I don’t get it, Danny. What is wrong with me? Why does this keep happening?” The question hung in the air, heavy with years of accumulated disappointment.

Danny set his sandwich down on the small table beside him, his gaze serious. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re… you’re amazing.” He stumbled slightly over the last word, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

You scoffed, the sound devoid of humor. “Amazing at picking the wrong guys, apparently.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Look, those guys… they were idiots. They didn’t see what was right in front of them.” His eyes met yours, and there was a sincerity in them that made your heart flutter despite yourself.

A comfortable silence settled between you, interrupted only by the drumming of the rain. You watched Danny, the way the lamplight caught the slight wave in his blonde hair, the familiar curve of his lips when he was deep in thought. You’d known Danny since forever, practically. You’d navigated awkward teenage dances, celebrated small victories, and weathered countless heartbreaks – mostly yours – by each other’s sides. He was a constant, a safe harbor in the often-turbulent waters of your life.

“You know,” Danny said after a while, his voice low, “if we were dating, I’d take you to all the best places.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a genuine flicker of surprise breaking through the gloom. “Oh yeah? Like where?”

A small, hopeful smile touched his lips. “Well, first, there’s this little Italian place downtown, Marco’s. They make the most incredible pasta carbonara you’ve ever tasted. And then, there’s that overlook on Route 17, the one where you can see the whole coastline? The sunsets there are unreal.” He was warming to the subject, his eyes sparkling with an enthusiasm you hadn’t seen in a while. “And we’d have to go to that quirky little bookstore with the hidden café, the one with the mismatched chairs and the owner who always recommends the weirdest books. You’d love it.”

He continued, painting a picture with his words of cozy dinners, breathtaking views, and hidden gems. You found yourself smiling, a genuine smile this time, as you imagined these outings. They sounded… nice. Simple, thoughtful, real. Everything your recent relationships hadn’t been.

As his voice trailed off, a playful challenge bubbled up within you. “So, what’s stopping you?”

Danny’s eyes widened, a look of utter surprise washing over his face. He blinked a few times, as if he hadn’t quite processed your words. “Excuse me?”

You leaned back against the cushions, a newfound boldness stirring within you. “You said, ‘if we were dating, I’d take you to all the best places.’ Well, we’re not not dating. So, what’s stopping you from taking me?”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken words and years of suppressed feelings. Danny’s gaze was intense, searching yours, as if trying to decipher if you were serious. You held his gaze, a nervous flutter in your stomach but a determined glint in your eyes.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Are… are you serious?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, Danny. I think I am.”

A slow smile spread across his face, chasing away the surprise and replacing it with a warmth that made your chest ache in a completely different way. “Wow.” He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous energy suddenly radiating from him. “Wow. Okay.”

He stood up abruptly, pacing the small living room. “Okay, best places. Right. Well, we should definitely start with Marco’s. I can make a reservation for tonight. Or tomorrow? Tonight? Yeah, tonight. Tonight’s good.” He was rambling slightly, a charmingly flustered look on his face.

You chuckled, the sound light and genuine. “Tonight sounds perfect.”

He stopped pacing and looked at you, his smile widening. “Perfect. So… this is a date?”

“I think,” you said, meeting his gaze steadily, “this is a date.”

The air crackled with a new kind of energy, a shift in the dynamic you’d shared for so long. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once. You’d always felt comfortable with Danny, safe. But this… this was different. This was stepping into uncharted territory, a territory you’d secretly longed to explore for years.

Over the next few weeks, Danny made good on his promise. He took you to Marco’s, where the carbonara was indeed heavenly and the conversation flowed easily. You stood hand-in-hand at the Route 17 overlook, the setting sun painting the sky in vibrant hues, a comfortable warmth spreading through you as Danny’s fingers intertwined with yours. You spent an afternoon lost in the quirky bookstore, discovering hidden literary treasures and sharing slices of surprisingly delicious lemon cake in the hidden café.

Each outing was a revelation. You saw Danny in a new light, not just as your steadfast friend, but as someone who saw you, truly saw you, with a depth and appreciation that had been missing in your past relationships. He noticed the small things – the way your eyes lit up when you talked about your passion for photography, the way you hummed along to the radio in the car, the way you always ordered your coffee with an extra shot of espresso. He listened intently, his gaze unwavering, making you feel like the most important person in the world.

There were moments of awkwardness, of course. The tentative brush of hands, the lingering gazes that held unspoken questions, the nervous laughter that filled the spaces between words. But beneath it all was a genuine connection, a foundation of years of friendship that made navigating these new waters feel less daunting.

One rainy Saturday, you found yourselves back at Danny’s apartment, curled up on the couch watching an old movie. The rain pattered softly against the window, a soothing soundtrack to the comfortable silence that had settled between you. Your head rested on Danny’s shoulder, his arm draped loosely around you.

“You know,” you said softly, breaking the silence, “you were right. These are the best places.”

Danny’s fingers tightened gently on your arm. “They’re only the best because I’m sharing them with you, sweets.”

You lifted your head to look at him, your heart swelling with a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets draped around you. His eyes were soft, filled with a tenderness that made your breath catch in your throat.

“Danny,” you began, unsure of what you wanted to say but knowing you needed to say something.

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispered, his voice husky.

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t a dramatic, movie-worthy kiss, but it was perfect. It was soft and hesitant at first, then grew in confidence, a silent acknowledgment of years of unspoken feelings finally finding their voice. When you pulled apart, a breathless smile touched both your lips.

“So,” you said, your voice a little shaky, “what’s next on the ‘best places’ tour?”

Danny’s smile widened, a genuine, heart-melting smile that made your stomach flip. “Well,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief, “there’s this one place… it’s kind of private.”

He leaned in again, and you knew, with a certainty that settled deep in your soul, that this was just the beginning of finding all the best places, together. The rain outside had stopped, and a sliver of sunlight peeked through the clouds, painting the small apartment in a warm, hopeful glow. For the first time in a long time, you felt a sense of peace, a sense of belonging. You were finally where you were meant to be.

[playdat]

the Salesman × Blind wife

Warning: dirty talk

_________________________________________

It was a quiet afternoon in the coffee shop. The hum of the espresso machine, the soft clinking of cups, and the faint chatter in the background created a peaceful atmosphere. She sat at a small corner table, laughing with her friend, unaware of the man who had just entered.

She was in a good mood today—excited, giddy even.

And the reason?

Him.

Her heart fluttered at the mere thought of him.

—the man who had been occupying her mind for weeks. She could feel it whenever he was nearby, his presence magnetic, even if she couldn’t see him. His voice had a deep, soothing quality that made her heart race every time they spoke. She was drawn to him, in a way she couldn’t explain, and her mind wandering into fantasies she knew she shouldn’t entertain.

Her friend, noticing the faraway look in her eyes, leaned in with a teasing smile. "You’re so obvious. You know that, right?"

She scoffed, trying to mask her blush. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"You do." Her friend raised an eyebrow. "Come on, spill. What's going on with you today?"

Her cheeks flushed, and she leaned in, whispering as if sharing a secret. "it's about him"

"Him?" her friend asked, raising an eyebrow, curiosity written all over her face.

"the man i told you about, the one i have a crush on him?"

Her friend glanced at her, a knowing look in her eyes. "Oh, that one" she said. "You are absolutely obsessed with this man."

"You don't understand," she murmured to her friend, the words slipping from her lips before she even realized it. "I think about him all the time. The way he talks, the way he breathes, I know I can't see him, but damn it, I know he's breathtaking."

Her friend shot her an amused, knowing look. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"

But she wasn’t done yet.

"You don't get it," she continued, her voice dropping low as she leaned in, the excitement in her chest bubbling over. "The way I would kiss him until he can’t breathe, ride him until sunset…the only thing leaving his lips would be my name. I’d make him mine, every single part of him."

Her friend’s eyes widened, clearly stunned by her boldness. "Whoa, okay, you’re not holding back today."

But her friend wasn’t the only one who heard.

There he was.

Right behind her, sitting at a table just a few feet away. He had entered the coffee shop, unaware of the conversation happening behind him, tired after a long day of work, looking for some peace. But the moment he sat down, the words reached him. He froze for a second, his eyes narrowing with surprise.

He wasn’t just any man. He was the man she had been pining for. The one who didn’t know she had a secret crush on him.

He leaned back in his chair, listening. And what she didn’t know was that he was equally as captivated by her. They hadn’t spoken much before, but he had always admired her from a distance—her voice, her laugh, the way she carried herself.

She was blind, yes, but her confidence, her energy, made her even more captivating in his eyes.

His lips curved into a small, amused smile as he took in the boldness of her words.

Meanwhile, her friend desperately tried to signal her, nudging her under the table, but she didn’t notice. She was lost in her own thoughts, still caught up in the daydream of what could be.

Her friend, panicking, tried nudging her foot under the table. "Uhm— listen, I really think you should—"

"And the things I would do to him?" she continued, completely ignoring her friend’s distress. "God, I’d ruin him. If I ever get my hands on him, he’s done for."

A deep chuckle rumbled behind her.

She froze.

Her spine straightened, her fingers tightening around her cup.

She knew that sound.

She had memorized that sound.

She froze, eyes wide with realization. There, just a few inches away, sat him—the man she had been gushing over. He had just sat down at the table right behind hers. His expression was unreadable, though there was a small, almost amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He was listening—had been listening the entire time.

She went pale. Her entire body went rigid, and her mind raced for words. "Oh my God," she muttered under her breath, unable to hide her shock and embarrassment.

Her friend, who was trying to stifle her own giggles, nudged her gently. "I... I tried to warn you..."

She didn’t know what to do. Should she apologize? Should she pretend she didn’t say anything at all? Her brain was too frazzled to think straight.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze never leaving her as he spoke, his voice smooth and steady. "Well, I must admit, you paint quite the picture."

Her friend looked between them, grinning from ear to ear. "Well, this is awkward in the best way possible," she said, unable to stop herself from laughing.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt like she might combust on the spot. She opened her mouth to say something—anything—but nothing came out.

"Well," he said, breaking the silence, his tone playful but full of a certain raw, magnetic charm. "I’d say it was meant exactly for me to hear."

Her heart was still pounding, her cheeks on fire. "I didn’t mean for you to—"

"Oh, I’m not complaining," he interrupted with a grin, his voice dripping with teasing warmth. "In fact, I’d say I’m flattered to be the subject of your imagination."

It was then that she realized—he had been listening, not just because of her words, but because he had a quiet admiration for her, too. He had always found her attractive. He had always wanted her, but like her, had never known how to admit it.

__________________________________________________________________________________

@dyingswanpavlova 🎀

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 13

word count: 7.3k

hi! this was inspired by one of the comments left in my inbox so thank u for the suggestion! i've read the other ones and have noted them down as well. happy reading!

"Harryyy, come on!" Aspen's playful whine echoed through the quiet library, earning a raised brow from an older patron seated nearby. Aspen winced apologetically before turning back to Harry, who stood a few feet away, his expression as unimpressed as ever, though the slight curve at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

"No," he puffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he bent down into the book cart. With one hand, he pulled out another hardcover while his other steadied the wobbling stack she had precariously piled earlier. He reached over, extending the book toward her without breaking stride. "Here, unless you wanna use me as a ladder again."

Aspen's cheeks flushed. The last time they'd done this, she had struggled with the top shelves and made him crouch down so she could awkwardly step onto his thigh. He hadn't let her live it down since.

It had become their little routine. Aspen was buried neck-deep in midterms and work shifts, balancing her time between lectures, the library, and stolen moments of quiet with Harry. On the nights where their schedules aligned, Harry had made it a habit of swinging by the library before closing time. At first, Aspen had protested his help, insisting she could finish on her own, but Harry, as persistent as he was, always wore her down. Now, she couldn't help but smile every time she saw him stroll through the doors with that easy confidence, ready to argue until she let him pitch in.

Today was no different. Aspen had barely clocked in after her lecture when Harry texted her: Be there at 4. A simple message, but it left her cheeks warm for the rest of her shift. By the time he arrived, they'd fallen into their usual rhythm. Aspen would work, and Harry would pretend to grumble about helping but inevitably do it anyway—though only after extracting a promise of a few kisses in his car afterward.

"Come on, if you make an Instagram account, we could all follow you, spy on your so-called private life," Aspen teased, glancing over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically, biting back a giggle when Harry rolled his eyes.

"You already do that," he shot back, sliding another book into her waiting hands. "And I only really talk to you guys anyway. What's Instagram gonna do that my contacts and iMessage can't?"

Aspen jutted out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout, cradling the book to her chest. "But then you could post all those artsy photos you take! Come on, Harry, you're practically an undercover photographer."

That earned her a full-on laugh, low and rich, as Harry leaned his hip against the cart. She wasn't wrong. One thing Aspen had quickly learned about him was his knack for capturing beauty in the mundane. Whether it was the glow of a sunset behind the mountains, the way fog curled lazily through downtown's alleys, or the candid snaps he'd take when she wasn't looking, his camera roll was a treasure trove of little moments. She knew he had an actual camera at home, too—one he swore was on its third memory card. But the thought of him sharing even a glimpse of those moments on Instagram made her grin grow wider.

Harry sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck like he was truly at a crossroads. "Alright, alright," he relented, earning an excited squeal from Aspen. "I'll make one so you can do all your little tagging stuff, but I'm not promising to post a single thing."

Aspen narrowed her eyes, as if weighing the seriousness of his promise, before finally giving in. "Deal." Her grin was infectious, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. She'd been pestering him for days, and deep down, he didn't really mind. The idea of her tagging him in pictures, forcing him into her corner of the social media world, wasn't so bad. Maybe he'd even scroll through it occasionally when he was bored or needed a distraction between clients.

Sliding the last book onto the shelf, Aspen turned back to him, her hands on her hips. "You know," she started with a sly smile, "this means you officially owe me now."

Harry raised a brow, smirking. "Oh yeah? And what exactly do I owe you?"

"A coffee," she declared confidently. "Because I've been running on fumes all day, and if I don't get caffeine soon, you're going to have a grumpy librarian on your hands."

Harry chuckled, stepping closer and letting his hand brush lightly against hers. "Alright, love. Let's get you your coffee. But only if I get one of those kisses in return."

Aspen's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink, her bashful smile tugging at his heart as she nodded. "Deal."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Harry carried his jacket hooked on his finger over his shoulder, the fabric swaying slightly with each step, while his other arm rested securely around Aspen’s shoulders. The warmth of his touch seeped through her sweater, grounding her as they exited the softly lit library into the crisp evening air. The muffled hum of passing cars filled the quiet space between them as they strolled toward his car, their pace unhurried, comfortable.

"Zayn told me earlier he’d be out with Isobel," Harry began, his voice low and inviting as he reached to open the passenger door for her. He leaned casually against the door frame, his jacket still dangling from his finger, as Aspen climbed in. "So I was wonderin’," he continued, his green eyes catching hers in the dim glow of the streetlamp, "if you’d like t’stay for dinner? It’s not too late. I could whip us somethin’ up."

Aspen paused, her hands fumbling slightly with her seatbelt as she glanced up at him. The way he stood there, effortlessly charming with a soft smile playing on his lips, made her heart flutter. "Yeah! I’d like to, H. Thank you," she replied, her own smile small but genuine.

Harry’s smile widened just a fraction before he leaned down, pressing a warm kiss to her forehead. The gesture left her momentarily breathless, her eyes fluttering shut instinctively at the tenderness. He shut the door gently behind her and rounded the car, sliding into the driver’s seat with an ease that came from countless nights like this. As the engine purred to life and warm air began to flood the cabin, Aspen’s stomach let out a low growl, breaking the comfortable silence.

Harry let out a puff of air, a laugh that was both teasing and fond. "Hungry, are we?" he teased, glancing at her sideways with a smirk. Aspen’s cheeks turned pink as she ducked her head in embarrassment, but her lips curved into a sheepish grin.

"Maybe a little," she admitted, the confession barely audible over the soft hum of the heater.

By the time they arrived at his apartment, Harry had already shrugged off his jacket and was heading for the kitchen. "Make yourself comfortable," he called over his shoulder as Aspen toed off her shoes and hung her tote bag neatly on the coat rack by the door. Before disappearing into the living room, she felt the soft press of his lips on her forehead again, a fleeting touch that left her cheeks warm.

Harry rummaged through his fridge, the faint clink of jars and the rustle of packaging filling the kitchen as he searched. "Baby?" His voice broke the quiet after a couple of minutes, pulling Aspen from her thoughts as she peeked her head around the corner.

"Yeah?" she asked softly, stepping into the kitchen. The cold tile against her pink, frilly sock-covered feet made her shiver, but the sight of Harry, slightly hunched with his head in the fridge, was enough to distract her. He turned toward her with a package of chicken in hand, his smile easy and affectionate.

"Are you okay with chicken? Gonna do somethin’ easy with it—maybe some broccoli and potatoes?" he asked, holding up the ingredients as if to get her approval.

Aspen nodded quickly, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see her silent affirmation. Realizing her mistake, she squeaked out a soft, "Yes... yes! That sounds good, thank you."

Harry chuckled quietly to himself, charmed by her shy but earnest response. She pulled one of the chairs out from the island and perched on it, her feet resting on the footrest as she settled in to watch him. Aspen wanted to keep him company, to be near him while he worked his magic in the kitchen, but she stayed quiet, her gaze soft as she observed him move.

Harry worked with a practiced ease, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows as he began chopping broccoli and seasoning the chicken. The faint clatter of utensils and the rhythmic chop of the knife filled the air, punctuated by the occasional clink of a glass or a soft hum from Harry as he focused. Aspen found herself mesmerized by the simple yet deliberate way he moved, every gesture seeming natural and unhurried.

"You’re really good at this," she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the faint sizzle as he turned on the stovetop.

Harry glanced up, his green eyes twinkling with amusement. "At cookin’? Or at convincin’ you to stay for dinner?"

Aspen giggled, her hands fidgeting slightly in her lap. "Both, maybe," she admitted, her cheeks tinting pink.

"Well, lucky for you," he said, flashing her a grin as he set the pan on the stove, "I happen to enjoy doin’ both."

Dinner had gone by in a blur of easy conversation, soft laughter, and the comfortable rhythm that Harry and Aspen had found themselves settling into. Aspen was shy, yes, but around Harry, there was a growing ease—a sense that she could let her guard down without judgment. They spoke about their day, her recounting a particularly funny mishap during her shift at the library, and him sharing a story about a client who insisted on getting a tattoo of their cat dressed as a pirate. It left Aspen giggling behind her hand, her laughter light and airy, a sound Harry was quickly growing addicted to.

As the plates were cleared and the last bites of dinner had been taken, Harry stood and began gathering the dishes, shooting her a teasing look when she moved to help. "Sit tight, love," he said, shaking his head. "I’ll take care of this. You’ve had a long day."

Aspen hesitated, her hands half-reaching for a plate, but she relented under the warmth of his gaze. “Okay,” she murmured softly, her voice small but sweet.

Harry rinsed the plates before stacking them neatly in the sink. He turned to her, wiping his hands on a dish towel, and his expression softened. "Y’want somethin’ more comfortable to wear? Don’t have to if you’re fine as is, but if y’want, I can grab you a shirt or somethin’."

Aspen blinked at him, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face before she nodded. "That would be nice... if you don’t mind."

Harry’s grin was immediate and reassuring. "‘Course not. Be right back."

He returned moments later with a well-worn black t-shirt, the fabric soft from years of wear. He handed it to her, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange. “Bathroom’s just down the hall on the left,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction. Aspen nodded, clutching the shirt to her chest as she padded down the hallway.

Inside the bathroom, Aspen closed the door behind her and let out a quiet breath. The room was clean, with simple touches that felt inherently like Harry—spare but thoughtful. A small plant sat in the corner near the window, and the counter was neat, save for a watch and a bottle of cologne. She couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly over the label of the bottle, smiling to herself at how even the scent of it made her think of him.

She slipped out of her sweater, folding it neatly on the counter, and pulled Harry’s shirt over her head. The fabric was oversized, hanging loosely over her frame, and the faint scent of him clung to it—something warm and comforting. She decided to keep her leggings on, smoothing them down before taking one last glance at herself in the mirror. Her cheeks warmed as she imagined Harry seeing her like this, wearing his clothes.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the faint sound of running water guided her back to the kitchen. Harry was standing at the sink, his sleeves rolled up, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he scrubbed at a pan. The sight of him made her pause for a moment, her lips curving into a soft smile before she shuffled into the room.

Harry glanced up as she entered, and for a second, he froze. The shirt was far too big for her, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, the neckline slightly loose on her petite frame. She looked small, cozy, and unmistakably his. The thought hit him with a surprising intensity. His shirt. On her. It felt... right. Like a quiet claim, subtle but undeniable.

"Y’look good," he said after a beat, his voice low and sincere as he dried his hands on the towel. He crossed the room toward her, his green eyes soft as they took her in.

Aspen’s cheeks flushed pink, and she toyed with the hem of the shirt, glancing down shyly. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s lips quirked up in a fond smile. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly over her arm. "You make it look better than I ever did," he added, his tone playful but laced with an underlying tenderness.

Aspen peeked up at him, her lips twitching into a small, bashful smile. “You’re just saying that.”

"Not a chance," Harry replied, shaking his head as he gazed at her. In that moment, with her standing in his kitchen, wearing his shirt and looking like the very embodiment of comfort, Harry couldn’t help but think that this—her, here—was something he could get used to. Something he wanted to get used to.

With the dishes done and the clock showing just past eight, Harry leaned against the counter, drying the last plate. He looked over at Aspen, who was seated on one of the kitchen stools, idly running her fingers along the hem of his shirt. She looked completely at home, and the sight filled Harry with a quiet warmth he didn’t quite know how to put into words.

"Not too late yet," Harry said, tossing the dish towel over his shoulder. "How d’you feel about a movie? Could use a bit of a break after today, yeah?"

Aspen’s eyes lit up, and she nodded. “That sounds nice. I—I wouldn’t mind cuddling up with you again,” she admitted, her voice shy but steady enough to make Harry’s chest swell with affection.

He grinned, the dimples in his cheeks deepening. "Alright then. Y’pick somethin’, and I’ll get the living room sorted. Just gimme a sec to change out of these," he said, gesturing to his skinny jeans and button-up shirt.

Aspen’s cheeks warmed at the thought of him getting more comfortable. "Okay," she replied softly, sliding off the stool and padding into the living room. She browsed through his small stack of DVDs on the shelf, her fingers brushing over the spines as she considered what to watch.

Meanwhile, Harry disappeared into his room, tugging off his work clothes and swapping them for a pair of gray sweats and a plain white tee. He left his hair a little mussed, the loose curls falling naturally around his face, and kept only one of his rings on—a silver one he wore on his index finger. As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he wondered if Aspen would notice the change. 

When he returned to the living room, Aspen was kneeling in front of the TV, the remote in her hand and a movie paused on the screen. "This okay?" she asked, turning to him with an uncertain smile.

"Perfect," Harry replied as he crossed the room. But instead of sitting down next to her, he grinned mischievously, lunging toward her with playful energy.

Aspen let out a surprised squeak as Harry tackled her onto the couch, gently but with enough force to leave her laughing breathlessly. "Harry!" she exclaimed, her cheeks flushed as he settled them both into a comfortable position after teasing her a bit. He tucked her firmly into his side, pulling a throw blanket over the both of them with one hand.

"There," he said with a satisfied grin, his arm draped around her shoulders as she snuggled into his side. Her small hand rested on his abdomen, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath her fingers.

Aspen sighed contentedly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Being close to Harry like this was quickly becoming one of her favorite things, and she couldn’t help but smile at how natural it felt.

Harry, meanwhile, was busy memorizing every detail of the moment. The way Aspen fit against him like she was meant to be there. The feel of her hand resting on his stomach, moving ever so slightly in rhythm with his breathing. He started tracing light patterns along her arm with his fingers, the repetitive motion soothing for both of them.

"Y’comfy, love?" Harry asked, his voice low and warm.

Aspen nodded against his chest, her face half-hidden by the fabric of his shirt. "Mmhm. Very," she murmured, her shyness laced with contentment.

Harry glanced down at her, his green eyes softening as he watched her settle further into his side. She looked perfect—completely at ease, her cheeks still slightly pink, her fingers brushing lightly over his stomach as if she couldn’t help but touch him.

The movie started, but Harry found it hard to focus on the screen. His thoughts kept drifting back to Aspen. How cute she looked in his oversized shirt, her leggings still clinging to her legs. How much she looked like she belonged there, with him, wrapped up in their own little bubble of warmth and comfort.

"Y’know," Harry said softly after a while, his fingers pausing their movements on her arm, "I could get used to this."

Aspen peeked up at him, her shy smile returning as her heart fluttered at his words. "Me too," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Harry’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied grin. "I should have y'around more often, then, hm?" Aspen nodded, settling more into his side when he gave her arm a reassured squeeze. When Harry caught her beautiful brown eyes flicker down to his lips, he took that as his sign to tilt his head and close the space. She sighed contently, which made Harry grin into their kiss. Slowly, he was learning her little clues and asks without having to actually ask for them. Harry didn't mind. He vowed to himself to understand her always.

As Harry settled onto the couch and his eyes wandered back to the TV, Aspen couldn’t help but notice the subtle differences in him. His curls were slightly messier than usual, like he’d run his fingers through them carelessly after changing. Her eyes flicked to his hand resting on the edge of the blanket, and she noticed he was wearing only one ring, a simple silver one on his index finger. It was such a small detail, but it made her stomach flutter. Even with all the tattoos winding across his arms, his lip piercing catching the light, and the remnants of chipped black polish on his nails, he looked so much like the Harry he showed only to her—soft, unguarded, and entirely hers. It made her heart ache in the best way, knowing she got to see him like this, in these intimate, quiet moments.

The movie had long since settled into a soft lull, its dialogue blending into the warm hum of the apartment. Aspen and Harry had started the evening curled up together, but as time passed, their slow breathing matched the quiet rhythm of the soundtrack, and without realizing it, they both drifted into sleep. Harry’s arm remained wrapped around Aspen, her cheek resting on his shoulder, and the blanket had slipped slightly, pooling at their legs.

Hours passed until Harry stirred, his body instinctively turning toward his side in search of comfort. In his half-conscious state, his hand moved as if reaching for Aspen, but when his fingers met only the cool fabric of the couch, his eyes fluttered open. Disoriented at first, he blinked into the dim glow of the room. Where had she gone? The clock on the wall read just past midnight. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, the blanket falling away as he stretched and glanced toward the hallway.

A faint light spilled from the kitchen, and Harry padded toward it, the hardwood floor cool beneath his bare feet. Leaning against the doorframe, he found her standing in front of the open freezer, her petite frame silhouetted by the soft white glow. She was peering into its depths with a furrowed brow, her hands rubbing her arms lightly as the cool air spilled out around her. She hadn’t noticed him yet, too focused on whatever she was searching for.

“Aspen?” His voice was soft, still laced with sleep, and her head whipped around so fast that a lock of hair fell into her eyes. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she slammed the freezer door shut, stepping back awkwardly.

“Oh! I… I didn’t mean to wake you,” Aspen stammered, her voice barely audible. Her hands fidgeted in front of her, fingers twisting together nervously as she searched for the right words. “I was just, um… I got thirsty—well, no, not thirsty, but… hungry? Kind of?” She trailed off, her cheeks already flushing as she realized how jumbled her explanation sounded. Her gaze dropped to her socked feet, avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Harry leaned casually against the kitchen doorway, a soft, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t teasing, just patient and understanding. “You’re fine, love,” he said gently, his voice still raspy from sleep. “What were you looking for?”

“I… uh…” Aspen hesitated, her hands nervously tugging at the hem of his oversized shirt she wore, the soft fabric bunching under her fingers. Her heart thudded as she felt her cheeks burn hotter. She wanted to tell him, but the thought of admitting she was craving something so specific—so indulgent—made her stomach twist with embarrassment.

Harry noticed her hesitation, his brow furrowing slightly. Taking a step forward, he tilted his head, meeting her gaze even though she tried to avoid it. “Aspen,” he said softly, his voice coaxing. “It’s okay. Whatever you want, just tell me.”

“I—” Her voice wavered, and she swallowed nervously, still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s silly. Don’t worry about it.”

Harry smiled warmly, taking another step toward her. “Silly or not, you’re standing in the middle of my kitchen at midnight. So whatever it is, it must be worth finding, yeah?” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought for a moment. “Let’s see… were you looking for snacks? Chips? Crackers?” He tilted his head playfully. “Maybe leftover pizza?”

Aspen shook her head, a soft laugh escaping despite her nerves. “No… none of those.”

Harry grinned, encouraged by the sound of her laugh. “Alright, what about something sweet, then? Chocolate? Cookies?” He paused, pretending to consider. “Ice cream?”

At that, her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and her fingers twisted even tighter in the fabric of his shirt. She nodded shyly, glancing up at him for only a split second before looking away again. “Ice cream,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s heart melted at how utterly bashful she was. He stepped closer, his hand brushing gently against her arm to reassure her. “Ice cream, huh?” he repeated with a soft chuckle. “That’s not silly at all, Aspen. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough to raid my freezer.”

Her head snapped up, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t raiding!” she protested, her voice rising slightly in defense before softening again. “I mean… I was just looking.”

Harry chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright—just looking,” he teased, opening the freezer himself and glancing back at her. “So, what flavor are we after?”

Aspen hesitated, nervously toying with her hair now. “I, um… I think you had mint chocolate chip the other day?” she said hesitantly, her voice wavering.

Harry caught the way her blush deepened, and his smile softened further. “Mint chocolate chip,” he echoed thoughtfully, his tone light and reassuring. “Good choice, love. Let’s see if we’ve got any left.”

He turned back to the freezer, but his mind lingered on her. The way she looked so small and shy in his kitchen, wearing his shirt, made his chest ache in the best way. She was adorable, and he loved how vulnerable and comfortable she was around him—even when she was nervous.

Harry leaned into the freezer, moving a few frozen bags and containers around until he spotted a familiar green carton pushed to the very back. “Got it,” he announced, pulling it out with a triumphant smile.

Aspen’s face lit up, and she let out a small, delighted laugh. “You’re good at this.”

“I try,” Harry teased, grabbing two spoons from the drawer before motioning toward the floor. “C’mon. Let’s eat before it melts.”

They settled on the cool tile, their backs against the cabinets, and Harry opened the lid with a satisfying pop. He offered her the first spoonful, watching as her eyes lit up at the first taste. “Still your favorite?” he asked, taking a bite for himself.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, nodding enthusiastically. The sweetness melted on her tongue, and she sighed contentedly. Harry still had sleep in his eyes, but being able to be awake with her was worth any amount of sleep.

The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of spoons against the carton. Harry glanced at Aspen between bites, his gaze lingering on how the overhead light highlighted the soft curve of her cheeks and the way her eyes crinkled slightly when she smiled. She looked completely at ease now, the embarrassment from earlier forgotten, and he felt a wave of warmth settle over him.

“You know,” he said after a while, his voice low and thoughtful, “this feels kind 'f perfect. Jus' you and me, stealing ice cream in the middle of the night.”

Aspen glanced at him, her shy smile growing. “Yeah,” she agreed softly. “It really does.”

As they continued to share the ice cream, the quiet intimacy of the moment lingered, filling the kitchen with a warmth that had nothing to do with the light overhead. Harry twirled his spoon in the carton absently, a small smile playing on his lips. “Alright,” he began, breaking the silence, “I’ve got a question for you.”

Aspen looked at him curiously, her spoon poised mid-air. “What kind of question?”

“Nothing too serious,” Harry assured her, leaning back against the cabinet. “Just… what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

“Nothing too serious,” Harry assured her, leaning back against the cabinet. He stretched his legs out in front of him, his bare feet crossing lazily. Her legs were shorter than his, a small quirk that turned the corner of his lips up when he noticed it from how they sat. Despite his casual posture, his green eyes were alert, focused entirely on Aspen. “Jus… what’s something you’ve always wanted t'do but haven’t had the chance t'yet?”

Aspen froze for a moment, the question hanging in the air. Her fingers traced the edge of the ice cream lid nervously, her mind racing with possibilities. There were so many things she had dreamed of, so many ideas she’d quietly nurtured but never spoken aloud. “I don’t know,” she murmured finally, her voice soft. “There’s a lot I’d like to do someday.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into an encouraging smile. He knew that hesitation of hers, that instinct to downplay her desires, but he wanted to hear more. “Like what? Give me one thing,” he coaxed gently, his voice low and warm.

Aspen’s breath caught. The way Harry looked at her—calm, patient, and interested—made her feel safe, like her answer really mattered. She dropped her gaze to her lap, gathering her courage as her heart thudded in her chest. “I’ve always wanted to travel,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… pack a bag and go somewhere completely new. Maybe Italy, or Japan.”

Harry noticed the shift in her tone as she continued, her shyness giving way to quiet enthusiasm. “I want to see the art, the history,” she went on, her words picking up pace. “Experience things that feel bigger than me.”

He couldn’t look away. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her dreams, the subtle curve of her lips as her confidence grew—it was like seeing a different side of her unfold, piece by piece. His chest ached in the best way, a deep warmth blooming inside him. “That sounds amazing,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “You’d love it. You’ve got tha' curiosity about you—like you’d soak it all in, every detail.”

Aspen felt her cheeks flush, her gaze dipping once more. His words struck something deep within her, something fragile and precious. She wasn’t used to being seen like this, to someone noticing and valuing the quiet parts of her that she often kept hidden. “What about you?” she asked quickly, desperate to shift the focus away from herself. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of the shirt she was wearing—Harry’s shirt—and she peeked up at him, her shyness mixing with genuine curiosity. “What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

Harry chuckled, a low sound that made Aspen’s heart flutter. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees as he gave her a playful look. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“I won’t,” she promised, her eyes wide and earnest. She meant it; she couldn’t imagine laughing at him, not when he was sharing a piece of himself like this.

“Alright,” Harry said, his voice taking on a mock conspiratorial tone. “I’ve always wanted t'learn how to surf. Properly, I mean. Not just flopping 'round on a board.”

Aspen blinked in surprise before a soft laugh escaped her lips. It wasn’t mocking—it was light and delighted, filled with a warmth that spread between them. “That’s not silly at all,” she said quickly, her smile growing. “I can actually picture you on a beach.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Yeah? With all the tattoos n' everything?”

She nodded, her cheeks dimpling. “It suits you. The freedom of it… the connection to nature. It feels like you.”

Harry felt his breath hitch at her words, but it was subtle and went without notice. She said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but it hit him deeply. He wasn’t used to being seen in that way, his desires and identity so easily understood. “You’re pretty good at this, you know?” he said quietly, his voice tinged with awe. “Seeing people for who they are.”

Aspen’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink, and she ducked her head shyly. “I just… like paying attention.”

He smiled softly, his heart swelling at her words. He realized that was one of the things he admired most about her—how much she noticed, how much she cared, even if she didn’t always say it aloud.

The moment hung between them, tender and unspoken, as their hearts opened just a little more. And in the quiet warmth of the kitchen, with an empty carton of ice cream forgotten beside them, Harry felt something settle deep within him—a certainty that this, whatever this was, was worth every moment.

Aspen shifted slightly, tucking her legs closer to her body as she glanced at Harry. The weight of their conversation hung in the air, but it wasn’t heavy—it was comforting, like a warm blanket wrapping them in something safe and intimate. Her voice was soft when she spoke again, careful not to disrupt the gentle mood they’d settled into.

“What’s something that calms you down? Like... instantly?” she asked, her curiosity genuine. Her wide eyes studied him, searching his face for an answer.

Harry tilted his head back against the cabinet, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. His closed eyes peered open to look at her with a sheepish smirk. “You’re gonna think ’m cheesy.”

Aspen raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin slipping onto her face. “What is it?”

He finally murmured, “Talking to you.” Harry let out a small puff of air, though he wasn't lying. She was his grounding piece. She took his mess and made sense of it.

Aspen let out a playful whine, nudging his shoulder with hers as her cheeks flared pink. “Harry! Be serious!” she giggled, her laugh bubbling up and breaking the quiet.

“I am serious!” he defended, grinning now, though the teasing glint in her eyes made him laugh softly. “Alright, alright. Lemme think.”

She waited patiently, her gaze steady on him. Her heart thudded gently in her chest as she watched him search for an answer, the way his brow furrowed slightly and his lips pressed together in thought. Finally, he spoke.

“Tattooing,” he said simply at first, but there was a weight in his tone that made Aspen sit up a little straighter. His fingers absentmindedly toyed with the hem of his shirt as he continued, his voice quieter now, more reflective. “Whether it’s actually tattooing someone or just sketching a new design... it’s like everything else disappears for a while. There’s jus' me n' the lines I’m creating. It’s... grounding.”

Aspen tilted her head, her interest piqued. She could tell there was more he wasn’t saying, so she stayed quiet, giving him the space to keep going.

“It’s not jus' about the art,” Harry admitted, his green eyes flickering to hers before looking away again, as if what he was about to say felt too vulnerable to meet her gaze. “It’s... therapeutic, in a way. When I’m tattooing someone, there’s this trust, y'know? They’re letting me leave something permanent on them, something that means something to them. And when I’m sketching, i’s like... I can take whatever’s in my head—whatever’s making me feel restless or stuck—and put it on paper. Turn it into something that makes sense.”

Aspen’s heart ached at the sincerity in his words, the way he spoke with such quiet passion. She hadn’t expected such a heartfelt answer, but it made sense. Tattooing wasn’t just a job to him; it was a part of who he was.

“It’s kind of like...” Harry paused, searching for the right words. “When I’m holding the machine, or even just a pencil, it’s like I have control over something. Like no matter how messy life gets, I can create something beautiful from it. It’s calming in a way nothing else is.”

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her breath catching at his honesty. She’d always admired Harry’s talent, but hearing him talk about it like this—so deeply, so openly—gave her a new perspective. “That’s... really beautiful,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “I never thought about it like that before.”

Harry looked at her then, his gaze steady and full of something unspoken. “It’s the same feeling I get when I’m with you,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Like everything else fades, and it’s just us. Simple.”

Aspen felt her cheeks heat again, her heart thudding against her ribs. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t—his eyes held her in place, and she didn’t want to break the moment.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she said finally, her voice trembling slightly with emotion. She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his hand before curling around it. “It means a lot.”

Harry smiled softly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, baby,” he murmured, his voice like a promise. And in the quiet stillness of the kitchen, with only the faint hum of the fridge in the background, they stayed like that—two people learning each other, piece by piece, with every shared word and touch.

Harry's thumb brushed against the back of Aspen’s hand as he held it, the simple contact sparking warmth that spread through both of them. He glanced down at their joined hands, a soft smile tugging at his lips before he looked back up at her. Her cheeks were flushed, and her wide eyes flickered nervously between their hands and his face. She was shy, as always, but there was a comfort in her expression now—a softness that told him she felt safe.

The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator, but neither of them noticed. Harry’s gaze lingered on her, taking in the delicate curve of her cheek, the way her lashes fluttered as she peeked up at him. His chest tightened with an unfamiliar ache—not of pain, but of something deeper. Something he couldn’t quite put into words. He felt it every time she looked at him like that, like he was someone who mattered, someone who could make her feel special.

Aspen’s heart raced as she felt the weight of his gaze. It was gentle, but it held an intensity that made her stomach flutter. She wasn’t used to this kind of attention—wasn’t used to someone looking at her like she was something worth cherishing. Yet, with Harry, it felt... right. Natural, even. Her fingers fidgeted slightly against his, but she didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to.

Harry leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back, to stop him if she wanted. But she didn’t move. Her breath hitched, her eyes widening slightly, but there was no fear—only a quiet, nervous anticipation. His hand gently released hers, moving to cup her cheek instead. His thumb brushed along her skin, soft and deliberate, as if he were memorizing the feel of her.

“You’re somethin’ else, Aspen,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, like a promise wrapped in affection.

Aspen’s lips parted slightly, her breath trembling as her thoughts spun. She didn’t know what to say—wasn’t sure she could form words even if she wanted to. All she could do was feel—the warmth of his hand against her cheek, the way his green eyes held hers like she was the only thing that mattered.

Harry dipped his head, closing the small distance between them. His lips brushed hers gently, barely more than a whisper of a kiss. It was soft, tentative, as though he was asking for permission rather than taking. Aspen’s heart thudded against her ribs, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

When he pulled back slightly, their noses still brushing, Harry searched her face, his thumb still stroking her cheek. “Okay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Aspen nodded, her cheeks burning as her lips curved into a shy smile. “Yeah,” she breathed, her voice almost as quiet as his.

Encouraged by her response, Harry leaned in again, pressing another kiss to her lips. This one lingered a little longer, though it was just as gentle. His heart swelled at the way she leaned into him, her fingers lightly brushing against his knee for balance. She was hesitant, but she wasn’t holding back. Not with him.

Aspen felt her nerves melting away, replaced by a warmth that seemed to start in her chest and spread to every part of her. Kissing Harry felt... safe. Like she didn’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or being too much. He made her feel like she was enough—just as she was.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed as he soaked in the moment. “You’re somethin’ else,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe.

Aspen let out a quiet laugh, her fingers curling against his knee. “You’ve said that already,” she teased softly, her shyness giving way to a growing comfort in his presence.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, opening his eyes to look at her. “But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

She smiled, her heart fluttering at his words. And as they sat there, still tangled in the intimacy of the moment, Aspen realized that maybe, just maybe, she was starting to believe him.

"Something good, I hope.," Aspen quipped, her doe eyes looking up into his.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Aspen only felt the heat crawl up her neck and blush her face. Harry thumbed over her reddening cheek, a cute trait he learned to adore about her. After a few moments of just being in each other's silence, her lips released a tiny yawn which made Harry's lips crack a small smile. "C'mon," he tossed the spoons in the sink above him, pushing himself to stand up before he held out a hand. "Satisfied now, baby? Or is there somethin' else you would like? My kitchen is all yours."

Aspen shook her head shyly, taking his big hand to prop herself back to her two feet. "No, no. I'm all set now. Thank you so much, Harry." The mans heart softened at her words. "Alright, then le's get you back t'bed."

His voice dripped in sleep, low and hanging on to the two brain cells that were currently keeping him awake now. "I'll get you tucked into bed and I'll take the couch." Harry picked up the empty carton, tossing it onto the pile of trash in his bin. Before Aspen could say another word or even think of one to say, his arms slid around the back of her thighs and under her arms to sweep her off her feet. 

"Harry!," Aspen exlaimed in surprise, kicking her feet as she giggled. Harry kissed her shoulder and carried her bridal style down the hall to his bedroom, where he carefully set her down under the sheets. He pulled them back over Aspen, who was slightly sitting up against his headboard. "Do y'want me to stay until you fall asleep? I'll take the couch tonight so—."

Aspen shaking her head cut his sentence off. He tilted his head and furrowed his brows at her shy expression and wandering eyes, taking note of her fidgeting fingers. "You...," she started, come on Aspen—she sucked in a breath— "You can stay. Only if you want, but please." The girls words were rushed by still remained shy and squeakish. His lips tugged back into a smile, which he found himself doing more lately because of her compared to the last few years of his life. 

"Are you letting me know I can stay?" Harry knew her offer was more of her asking, but he didn't want to shine that light onto her. The man gently brushed her hair behind her ear. Anything to make her feel comfortable, he would do. When she nodded again, he hummed contently. "I would love t'stay with you, Asp. Thank you f'letting me." 

Normally, Harry would be down to his briefs if he had been by himself. But to not scare Aspen off, he climbed into bed after removing just his ring on his index finger. He let it clatter into the little tray and he settled under the covers next to him. He didn't mind that she picked his side of the bed, his mind quickly allowing it to become just hers.

Aspen had always had issues falling asleep or staying asleep in a bed or a place that wasn't her own. The first and only time she had a sleepover was when she was eleven, and she had called her sister to pick her up at two in the morning because she just couldn't sleep. But it was different in Harrys bed. She molded into the divot in the bed that was previously there, which she pieced together was Harry's original side of the bed. Aspen felt safe, felt comfortable surrounded by his scent and the soft duvet. 

"Is it okay if I hold you?" Even though they cuddled here and there (every time one of them was over), he still thought it would be respectful to ask in case she needed her space. That idea quickly left his mind when she shuffled closer and curled back into his side like she had earlier in the night. His arms instinctively wrapped around her small frame and his nose buried into the top of her head, followed by a small lasting kiss.

"I've got you, baby. Get some sleep." 

And with that, Aspen found Harry in her dreams once more.