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taeghi · 9 months ago

Text

let's collab | (m)

⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.

⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n

⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.

⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!

⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies

mdni

you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work.

over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time.

all thanks to hluvsbabes.

it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two.

the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret.

you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream.

and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist.

you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”.

you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.”

you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body.

he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now.

“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do.

you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive.

“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words.

suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told.

his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen.

“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together.

the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments.

a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”.

hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.”

you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is.

his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling.

“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.”

the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder.

“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.”

it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see :

darlingdove01 : ghj

your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices.

“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?”

you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning.

“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”.

and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.

a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes.

the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual.

usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night.

tonight, you had to live stream on your account.

you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs.

“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?”

you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin.

“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging.

you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum.

with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it.

“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s.

you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time.

a tip catches your eye;

heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.

your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you.

“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.”

you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes.

“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off.

heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.

“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.”

you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off.

you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally.

“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers.

heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling.

you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it.

you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them.

you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.”

you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience.

you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast.

heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling.

“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity.

when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream.

and they kept calling you darling.

you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee.

you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it.

“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money.

“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice.

your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before.

the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.”

so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order.

you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen.

“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up.

you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side.

let’s collab, hluvsbabes

with his number written underneath. you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.

your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened.

youhi, uh hluvsbabes?

only a few minutes pass before you get a response.

(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung

(123) - ***-****

hi, darlingdove01!

you

how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw

heeseung

bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately

heeseung

and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)

you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back.

you

damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month

heeseung

noooo i’m glad you texted me

heeseung

i wanted you to text me

you

righttt, you said something about a collab?

heeseung

yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon

you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not.

heeseung

c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)

you were leaning towards it being a good one.

later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there.

heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened!

though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks.

you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened.

there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead.

“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered.

you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock.

he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud.

“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up.

“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in.

a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!)

“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?”

“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap.

as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe.

“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?”

you nod, “i have,”

“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,”

“i wanna do it.”

heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.”

you nod, “yeah, i want to.”

heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?”

“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?”

heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening.

“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,”

“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued.

heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?”

“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.”

“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly.

you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.”

heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.”

you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out.

heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?”

“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…”

“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch.

heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?”

you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.”

heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod.

“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.”

“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?”

you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”

heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.”

both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab.

your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.”

heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room.

his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives.

“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”

“i’m sure, heeseung.”

“okay, i’ll press start live then,”

“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.

heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?”

your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it.

“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.

“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.”

“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder.

he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”

“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”.

“yes what?”

“yes, sir.”

“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, “pull up your shirt.”

your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience.

“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?”

heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch.

“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction.

“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit.

“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.”

your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to.

meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person.

“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?”

“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.”

heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.”

you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now.

“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?”

“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard.

“ask me to.”

“please taste my pussy, sir.”

with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core.

heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs.

heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily.

“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks.

his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans.

“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all.

heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.”

your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him.

“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure.

“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words.

then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread.

“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?”

“yes, sir.”

heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?”

“yes, sir.”

“get on your knees.”

you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.”

“can i suck your cock, sir?”

“good girl, take it out.”

your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it.

“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair.

you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick.

“god you’re so big sir,”

“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out.

“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth.

“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?”

you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve.

heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again.

“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.”

heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down.

heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain.

“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it.

heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone.

“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer.

heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed.

heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?”

“yes, please.”

“ask me to fuck you.”

“can you please fuck me, sir.”

“get up on the bed and turn around.”

heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed.

heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?”

“yes, sir.”

“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.

the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you.

“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”

heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want.

“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera.

“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams.

heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices.

“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.

you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy.

“oh shit!”

“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?”

“fu-fuck yes, sir.”

heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you.

“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?”

“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him.

“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements.

“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.”

“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster.

you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point.

“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high.

if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now.

heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned.

heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax.

you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?”

through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?”

heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.”

the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content.

“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.”

heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s.

“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.”

heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?”

“yes! sir, yes!”

heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure.

heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall.

“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated.

heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.”

“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.”

heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it.

“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely.

heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you.

“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak.

“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him.

“turn around for me again, then.”

although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy.

“push back on it, darling.”

you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful.

“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now.

with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened.

“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him.

“ye-yeah, sir.”

“say it.”

“i like being used, sir.”

“look at me while i fuck you.”

with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot.

heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.”

his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.”

“can i please ride you, sir?”

heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now.

slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle.

“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face.

“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you.

your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again.

“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him.

“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again.

“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder.

“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.”

“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.”

heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach.

“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him.

now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing.

your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you.

“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself.

“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.”

with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again.

“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!”

suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum.

“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again.

heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before.

“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you.

“yes, sir.”

“ask me.”

“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!”

“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly.

“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad.

“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.”

“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own.

“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder.

“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you.

heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm.

heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second.

“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.” heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum.

you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum.

“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.”

you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you.

heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk.

you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs.

“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice.

“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen.

“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.”

“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream.

heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder.

“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.”

“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off.

you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad.

“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers.

“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”

“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?”

you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.”

heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.”

“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.”

“no i’m not! come look!”

you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished.

“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!”

“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist.

“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him.

heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’

you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.”

“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.”

you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.”

“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily.

“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.”

“that, i can definitely promise.”

@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#heeseung smut #smut #enhypen smut #enhypen #heeseung x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #hard hours #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #enha #enha smut #enhypen heeseung #enhypen fanfic #fanfic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung #kpop #kpop smut

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alsofoundinpeas · 2 months ago

Text

The View from Here

Summary: After a few chance encounters, Spencer finds himself developing a crush on Y/N. When he discovers she lives across from him, he spends countless hours admiring her from a distance, too nervous to make the first move. But when her package is mistakenly delivered to his door, it sparks the beginning of something more than just a crush and stolen glances through the window. (Part Two)

CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. This could be considered dubcon (Spencer watches reader through her window but doesn't realize that she actually wants him to) so please be aware of that! Masturbation (both m and f). Use of a sex toy/penetrative use of a sex toy (f!receiving). Perv!Spencer (he means well truly, but alas he is a man) but also a hint of Perv!Reader (since she's intentionally doing things to grab his attention?? I'm not quite sure how to label that I'm sorry!!) Themes of voyeurism/exhibitionism (they both watch each other get off). Sub!Spencer (gotta squint for it now but it'll be more prevalent in part two). Both fluffy and smutty

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader/afab!reader

A/N: This was started to fill a request for sub!Spencer but I got carried away forgive me LMAO but part two is almost complete and will be out soon :') I wrote this with season two Reid in mind before the writers (further) traumatized the absolute fuck out of him. This is a bit different from my usual writing, so I truly hope you guys enjoy it! As always, please let me know what you guys think and if you do enjoy it then please like, reblog, and share it with your friends. <3 I truly do appreciate each and every single one of you and the feedback I get from you guys, I promise :') <3 Thank you and I love you all!! :)

The door slammed behind him as Spencer stormed into his apartment, tossing his satchel onto the couch with an angry groan. The stress of work had been wearing him down for weeks, but today had pushed him over the edge.

He’d just wrapped up the reports for their latest case and was on his way to deliver them to Hotch when an oblivious agent from the sex crimes unit collided with him. The force sent the cup of scalding coffee in her hands flying, drenching him and his case files. Instead of responding to her blubbered apologies, he had just stomped off to the bathroom to clean himself and calm down. Not only was it painful and humiliating, but it also destroyed all of his hard work. Work he'd now have to redo tomorrow.

Spencer exhaled sharply, fingers raking through his hair as he trudged toward the bedroom. All he wanted was to strip off his coffee-stained clothes and lose himself in the pages of his new book, anything to escape the tension of the day. Once inside, he moved to close the curtains but stopped short, his eyes landing on something unexpected just before he pulled them shut. His body went rigid, his heart racing as an unfamiliar warmth spread through him. He blinked, barely able to believe what he was seeing.

There, in the apartment directly across from his bedroom window, was Y/N.

Spencer had bumped into her a handful of times—their first meeting happening at the library just down the street when they'd both reached for the same book, then a few chance encounters after that at his favorite coffee shop, and the most recent interaction being one of the most mortifying moments of his life.

He’d stumbled over the sidewalk on his way to work, and he’d never wanted to disappear into the ground more than in that moment. But she had been there, her smile warm and gracious as she helped him gather the scattered books and case files that had spilled from his satchel, her kindness leaving him flustered and breathless. He’d been captivated by her the first time they met, but it was that moment that truly cemented his fascination with her.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat when he realized how wrong it was to be watching her through her bedroom window. But despite the guilt creeping in, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. It was as if he were under some kind of spell, captivated by the sight of her spinning around her room, carefree and radiant.

She wore a loose t-shirt that slipped off one shoulder and the tiniest pair of shorts he’d ever seen, completely at ease in her own space. She held something in her hand, singing into it like a microphone, completely lost in the music. Spencer didn’t realize when it happened, but a smile tugged at his lips, the stress of the day forgotten as he watched her. Her joy was so genuine and infectious that it pulled at him in ways he hadn’t expected, leaving him momentarily breathless.

His thoughts were interrupted when Y/N twirled around, singing as she faced her window. Spencer released a startled yelp, frantically yanking the curtains shut before she could catch him staring. His heart raced in his chest as he dared a quick peek through the fabric, anxious to see if she had noticed. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious, still happily dancing around her room, unaware of his presence.

"Oh my God," Spencer muttered, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized he hadn’t been caught staring like a complete weirdo at the woman he’d developed a crush on, despite having barely exchanged five sentences with her.

He was sure she didn't even remember his name. Why would she? All he'd managed to do during their brief interactions (besides busting his ass on the concrete the one time) was stutter out barely audible attempts at conversation before hastily retreating, his face scarlet and slacks uncomfortably tight.

Spencer had assumed Y/N lived nearby, but he hadn’t realized she was this close.

The day's weight melted away as Spencer peeled off his work clothes and slipped into his pajamas. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and sank back into his pillows, propping himself up against the headboard. But as he tried to focus on the pages, the image of Y/N dancing in her room kept invading his thoughts. His mind refused to settle, consumed with ideas of how he might run into her again now that he knew that not only was she just a building away—she was right across from him.

As the weeks passed, Spencer’s routine began to mirror Y/N’s more and more as he grew increasingly familiar with her schedule.

He began waking up earlier, noticing that she typically left her apartment an hour before he needed to head to work. With the extra time, Spencer found himself watching her with quiet awe each morning while she got ready, fascinated by how the soft light from the window seemed to illuminate her features as she did her hair and makeup. He also started visiting his favorite coffee shop daily instead of just once a week, hoping for a chance encounter before his workday began.

Night after night Spencer found his gaze inevitably drawn to her window, the soft glow of her bedroom lighting luring him in like a moth to a flame. He would trace her movements, pretending to read his book as it shielded his face, should he need to feign innocence. Something was alluring about her, even in the simplest moments—whether she was folding laundry or typing away on her computer, she was impossible to look away from.

Spencer couldn’t shake his curiosity about Y/N’s habit of leaving her curtains open.

Did she know he could see her? Was it intentional? Their apartments, situated at the ends of the buildings on the top floors, offered a level of privacy that made him feel certain (or at least, he desperately hoped) that no one else could be watching. Perhaps she’d noticed his frequent absences and simply stopped caring about keeping them shut.

The first case away from D.C. after Spencer learned Y/N was so close was more difficult than he expected. As he lay awake in his hotel room, his thoughts kept drifting to her, and the longing grew with each passing hour. He missed her. The only thing driving him was the need to finish the case quickly so he could return to the familiar comfort of his bed, where he could silently admire her from a distance.

The longer he thought about her, the tighter his boxers got. Spencer huffed out a pitiful whine, his hands clenching and unclenching beside himself as he tried to fight his shameful thoughts. This wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts about her since meeting her, no. But it is the first time he's had the mental image of her undressing to go along with his fantasies.

The first time it happened, Spencer had all but thrown himself off his bed in his haste to close his curtains. His heart had pounded so hard his chest ached as he'd squeezed his eyes shut, willing the sight of her raising her shirt over her head and tossing it carelessly to the ground out of his mind. The second time, he took a little more time to slink over to his window and draw his curtains, his pulse racing at the sight of her bare back and the smallest glimpse of lacy panties as she began to shimmy out of her pants. The third time, he had crouched by his window, peeking out despite having pulled his curtains closed, and watched as she stripped completely before heading into her conjoined bathroom.

That was the first and (so far) only time he'd touched himself to what he'd seen.

The moment her bathroom door had clicked shut, Spencer sprang to his feet and hurried into his own bathroom, tearing his clothes off before stepping underneath the stream of hot water. One of his palms smacked the wall while his other hand frantically pumped his aching cock, whimpers and groans flowing freely from his lips as he imagined Y/N's hand around him instead of his own. It didn't take long for him to spill into his hand, and unfortunately, it took even less time for the guilt to slam into him at the realization of what he'd done.

After that night, Spencer had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let it happen again, knowing just how inherently wrong it was to jerk off to the sight of his neighbor (the woman he secretly admired) getting undressed when she had no idea she had even been watched.

But tonight, alone and frustrated in his hotel room, he was struggling to stick to that vow.

After another hour of tossing and turning in bed, Spencer released a resigned sigh. "Just this once," he murmured to himself, swallowing hard. He let his hand slip underneath the waistband of his boxers to push them down his thighs before spitting in his palm, hissing at the contact as his hand wrapped around his arousal. His eyes fluttered shut as his imagination began to take over, his hand slowly increasing its pace as images of Y/N and her lacy panties raced through his mind.

Spencer's mouth hung open as his thumb swiped over the swollen tip of his cock, a bead of precum oozing out and aiding his movements. He pictured her hovering above him, her gaze teasing as she stroked him faster and faster. He imagined how she'd sound as she talked him through it, her sweet voice luring him closer and closer to the edge. His hips bucked into his hand as his climax took hold of him, a choked moan of Y/N's name ripping its way from his throat as he painted his heaving chest with his cum.

With shaky hands, he cleaned himself, still dizzy from the aftershocks of his orgasm. After wiping himself off, he collapsed onto the bed, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed him down. That night, his dreams were filled with Y/N—her radiant smile, her captivating voice, and the tenderness in her eyes whenever they met his. When he woke the next morning, breathless and murmuring her name, he realized he was in deep.

What Spencer didn’t know was that Y/N had known exactly what she was doing all along.

From the moment she reached for the same book as him—an act carefully planned to give her an excuse to talk to him—she’d been captivated by the stuttering genius. New to the neighborhood, she had noticed him a few times before finally gathering the courage to make her move. All it took was his flustered "Oh! I-I’m so sorry, here—" paired with furrowed brows and those wide, innocent eyes, and she was utterly entranced.

When Y/N discovered that Spencer lived right across from her, it felt like she’d hit the jackpot.

After their previous encounters, she’d quickly noticed the effect she had on him, and from that moment, she devised a plan to capture his attention. She began with subtle moves, leaving her curtains open one night so he’d realize she was the one across from him. She chose an outfit she was sure would draw his gaze, and when he nearly ripped his curtain rod off the wall, convinced she’d caught him looking, she knew she’d succeeded.

When Y/N noticed he was waking up earlier, watching her get ready with curious eyes over what he clearly thought was a cleverly placed book (which, in reality, did nothing to hide his attention), she decided it was time to raise the stakes.

The first time she undressed with the curtains open, she sank to her knees cackling at how quickly Spencer had scrambled out of bed to shut his own. The second time, she relished in how he hesitated before shutting his curtains so he could catch a glimpse of her lacy panties (ones she’d chosen with him in mind), but it still wasn't enough. By the third time, she was done teasing. She’d stripped down completely bare in her room, grinning smugly as she turned to walk into her bathroom because she’d seen Spencer not-so-subtly peeking through his curtains.

When Spencer still didn’t make a move after that, Y/N decided she was done waiting.

With him away on a case for the past three days, she saw the perfect opportunity to set her new plan in motion. After work one evening, she made her way to his building, quickly locating his apartment number—a detail that, to her surprise, matched hers. Smiling to herself, she placed her order and waited for him to return, ready for the next phase of her plan to unfold.

After nearly twelve grueling days away, Spencer finally returned late Friday night, aching for the comfort of home—and, more importantly, the sight of Y/N. Exhausted, he stumbled up the stairs to his apartment, eager to collapse into bed and wake up to her face rather than the grim case photos that had dominated his thoughts. His eyes half-lidded with fatigue, he fumbled with the key, unlocking the door before shoving it open.

“Oh! What the-“

Spencer cursed under his breath as he stumbled, his eyes dropping to the package at his feet. Frowning, he bent down slowly to inspect it. He hadn’t ordered anything, and there was no reason to expect anything from his mom. So... what was this?

The package was a light pink, medium-sized bag. Spencer nudged it onto its other side to check the sender, and his breath caught. It was addressed to Y/N, though she’d written the wrong number in the street address, causing it to end up at his door. He instantly recognized the name of the online boutique, having (unfortunately) heard Emily, JJ, and Penelope brazenly talk about ordering sex toys and such from this place.

What could Y/N have possibly ordered from there?

Spencer was wide awake now, his pulse quickening as he grabbed the package, slammed the door shut, and locked it. He carried it into the kitchen, turning on the light as he went. There was no way he’d open it—he knew that would be both illegal and downright creepy. But his curiosity got the best of him, and he couldn’t resist running his hands over the package, trying to guess what was inside.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully handled the package, giving it a slight squeeze. He could feel the soft outline of fabric inside a smaller plastic bag, his mind spinning with possibilities about what kind of set Y/N might have ordered. A small, involuntary gasp escaped him as his fingers brushed against something hard, separately wrapped from the lingerie. Was that… a dildo? Vibrator, maybe?

A quick glance at the clock told him it was far too late to return her package now. He swallowed, setting the bag down on the table with a mental note to take it to her first thing in the morning. He had the weekend off, and he knew she didn’t work weekends, so it wouldn't be a problem bringing it over. The only problem was going to be looking her in the eyes without turning into a complete mess.

Spencer rushed to his room, his excitement growing as he headed to bed, knowing he’d finally see Y/N tomorrow—in person, not just through her window.

The morning arrived quicker than he had expected, but for the first time, he was happy to hear his alarm. It was 9:30 a.m., giving him enough time to shower and get dressed before making the short walk to Y/N's apartment. More importantly, it would give her a chance to wake up before he just showed up at her door with her package in hand and rambling like a nervous mess.

Spencer’s nerves began to take over as he finished his shower and started getting dressed, his hands trembling as he pulled on his sweater. The last time they'd spoken was when he'd all but face-planted into concrete in front of her and then practically bolted off once she'd helped him gather his things (after a lengthy, awkward apology of course). What if she thought he was a freak?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Spencer took a deep breath, grabbed the package, summoned the last of his courage, and walked out the door.

A hesitant knock at her front door had Y/N grinning smugly as she rose from the couch and headed toward the door. She’d been waiting for this since she’d seen Spencer’s light come on late the night before. Her package was finally here.

The door opened to reveal a nervous Spencer, his eyes lighting up when they landed on her. He instinctively adjusted his glasses, his nose twitching as a small, shy smile appeared on his face.

"Spencer! Hey! What brings you by?" Y/N beamed, stepping aside to let him in. She had to suppress a giggle at her innocent act—she knew exactly why he was here.

Spencer blinked in surprise, both at her invitation and the fact that she remembered his name, pausing briefly before stepping into her apartment. His gaze wandered around, taking in the cozy surroundings with quiet admiration. When he realized she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, his face flushing as he held up the package.

"I, uh… I just wanted to return this," Spencer stammered, his words tripping over each other. "You had one number wrong on the street address, and, funny enough, we have the same apartment number, so it ended up at my door. I thought the least I could do was bring it over, especially after you helped me when I… well, fell." He offered a shy smile, his nerves still running rampant.

Y/N accepted the package with a smile, her fingers brushing lightly against his before he quickly pulled his hand back. "I could’ve sworn I got the address right this time," she said with a teasing laugh. "You’d think after a few months here I’d have it down by now, I'm sorry."

Spencer quickly shook his head, trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart and the lingering sensation of her touch as he waved it off. "You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. It happens," he said sincerely, his fingers nervously twisting the ends of his sleeves now that the package was no longer in his hands. "Honestly, I wouldn’t mind bringing your mail by anytime. I just hate the thought of it sitting at my door or in my mailbox while I’m away," he chuckled, his eyes crinkling as he gave her a warm smile.

"Well, aren't you quite the gentleman?"

Y/N placed the package on her coffee table and then headed toward the kitchen, gesturing for Spencer to follow. He blushed profusely, swallowing hard as he willed away the dirty thoughts that were caused by that simple comment before trailing after her. She turned to look at him over her shoulder as she reached into her cabinet for two mugs, smirking to herself as she noticed him quickly avert his gaze from where it had landed on her ass.

Y/N placed the mugs on the counter, then turned to Spencer with a genuine smile. "Thanks for bringing it to me instead of just sending it back like most people would," she said. "How about a cup of coffee as a small token of my appreciation?"

Spencer nodded, thanking her as she fixed them both a cup. She raised an eyebrow, watching him add enough sugar to send a horse into cardiac arrest, but she kept quiet. Once they’d both prepared their cups to their liking, they headed back to the living room, Y/N sitting close enough that Spencer could feel the warmth of her body radiating toward him.

"So... did you take a peek inside of it?"

Spencer coughed violently, choking on the sip he’d just taken, his face turning a deep shade of scarlet as he frantically shook his head. Y/N’s expression shifted to concern as she patted his back, gently rubbing in soothing circles to help him catch his breath.

"What? N-no, I would never! That's literally illegal and so invasive—" Spencer sputtered, his eyes wide as he stared at her, clearly taken aback.

Y/N's brows furrowed briefly before she erupted into laughter, her head tilting back as she laughed loudly. Leaning in, she rested a hand on his thigh, her tone softening. "Spencer, sweetheart, I was just joking," she said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye.

He relaxed immediately, fighting the urge to lean into her touch as her hand lingered on his leg. "Thanks for that," Spencer said with a playful roll of his eyes. "Just what I needed this morning—choking on my drink and desperately hoping you knew the Heimlich maneuver." His cheeks were still flushed, a mix of embarrassment from her teasing and the aftereffects of his coughing fit.

After a pot of coffee and hours of conversation, Spencer left with a grin so wide his cheeks ached and Y/N’s number saved in his phone "just in case any more of her mail ended up at his door." He silently thanked whatever force had kept him from backing out earlier that day, grateful for the time he’d gotten to spend with her because of it. He’d found himself falling even harder for her, already yearning for her company despite having just left her place.

That night, as Spencer climbed into bed, something caught his eye from his window. He frowned in confusion as he noticed Y/N’s curtains were open even though they’d been closed just an hour ago. He’d assumed she’d already gone to bed, but apparently, he was mistaken.

He craned his neck, searching for her. She wasn’t in her room, as she usually was when the curtains were open. Where could she be? His jaw nearly hit the floor when she finally appeared, his eyes widening in awe at the sight of her.

Y/N walked into her room from the bathroom, wearing the most stunning lingerie set Spencer had ever seen. The lilac fabric complemented her skin in a way that had him almost drooling on himself, and the thin lace left little to the imagination (though he'd already seen what was underneath it once before and knew exactly how incredibly sexy her body was bare). The sight had his cock stiffening in his boxers, and his teeth dug into his lower lip in anticipation as he watched her.

Spencer nearly toppled out of bed as he watched her crouch down to grab her torn-open package, her hand reaching inside to pull out a light-blue rabbit vibrator. He knew he should get up, close the curtains, look away—do something. But he couldn’t bring himself to move.

Instead, he watched in an almost trance-like state as Y/N crawled onto her bed, swallowing hard as she settled back against her pillows. His hand wandered down his body, palming at his erection over his boxers as a whimper slipped from his lips while he watched her legs spread slowly open, propped up and giving him the perfect view of her clothed pussy. He felt overwhelming guilt, especially after the morning they'd shared, but he was powerless against the pull she had on him.

The close proximity of the buildings had always annoyed Spencer, the narrow space between them so tight he swore he could reach out and touch the other building if he tried. But now, he couldn’t have been more grateful. His bed was on the opposite side of the room that Y/N’s was, leaving her perfectly positioned for him to see her from his spot.

Y/N dragged the tip of the vibrator up and down her inner thigh, teasing herself as the fabric of the lace dampened with her arousal. Her head lolled back against the pillows, and her chest rose and fell with a sigh as she finally placed the vibrator against her clit through her panties. Her back arched at the touch, and her lips opened around a moan he desperately wanted to hear.

Spencer considered himself a sane man (for the most part). But he had never been more tempted in his life to leap through a window than he was right now. If it meant landing in her room so he could at least have the chance to beg for a taste of her, he'd happily do it.

His hand halted its movement, instead moving to his waistband so he could wriggle out of the constricting fabric. He kicked his boxers to the floor like they'd scorned him before his hand wrapped around his cock once more. He leaned forward, letting saliva dribble from his lips to coat himself before stroking himself slowly, teasing himself the way Y/N was right across from him in her room.

When Y/N dipped the vibrator into her panties, Spencer's breath hitched in his throat. He watched in rapt fascination as she paused her movements, her free hand shoving the lace down her thighs before she continued. With the fabric now out of the way, Y/N began to run the tip of the vibrator up and down her slit, collecting her arousal and spreading it around before she slowly eased the toy into herself.

An obscene moan ripped its way from Spencer's throat at the sight, and his hand sped up while his eyes struggled to stay open. He watched through hooded lids as she began to fuck herself in earnest now, her hips rocking into the toy and her eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as she brought herself to the edge. Spencer whimpered as his body began to writhe against his sheets, sparks of pleasure zinging up and down his spine as he worked himself toward his climax.

All it took to send him over the edge was the sight of Y/N's legs thrashing as she came around the toy, a sight that left him both so aroused he couldn't breathe and so jealous of a toy he debated just how truly sane he considered himself to be after this. With a swipe of his thumb over his flushed head, Spencer came in spurts across his tummy, his hand pumping gently through the aftershocks until he was trembling and gasping Y/N's name like it was a mantra.

Once Spencer could finally open his eyes, he looked over at Y/N's window and saw she was no longer in bed, the soft light spilling from under her bathroom door the only sign of where she was. He rolled out of his bed to indulge in what was now becoming a routine walk of shame to his bathroom to clean himself off, his head spinning from what he'd just seen. He knew the shame of his actions would catch up with him in the morning, but for now, exhaustion and elation kept him from caring.

Spencer stumbled back into his room, half-asleep and ready to crash when his phone buzzed. Crawling into bed, he reached for it, curious about who would be contacting him at this hour. His heart stuttered in his chest, eyes widening in shock as he read the message on the screen.

Glad to see that you enjoyed the show, sweetheart. Next time, just come over. <3

Continued A/N's: AHHH I truly hope you guys enjoyed that! The next part gets FILTHYYYY and I can't wait to finish it hahahaaaa. Please let me know what you think because I'm thinking of doing more in the future that would be similar but of course I want to make content you guys will actually enjoy as well <3

REMINDER: I do not give permission for my work to be re-uploaded to any other platforms (c.ai, Tiktok, ao3, etc.) under any circumstances. If you'd like to translate my work, then please just ask me before doing so. I know it sounds whiny, but I (as well as many other fanfic writers) spend so much time on these and it's genuinely not okay to take credit for work that isn't yours. It's insulting and completely unnecessary. If I do see my work uploaded anywhere without explicit permission, I WILL say something.

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid fanfiction #Perv!Spencer #Sub!Spencer #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid x self insert #Spencer Reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid fanfic

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wanderingelvis · 8 months ago

Note

hi girlie! love your work, please could you write about a reader that loves sex with ep but is still very innocent?

i hope you like it! thank you for requesting!

masterlist is here for more elvis fics takin' new elvis requests here

wc - 2.8k

warnings - SMUT, daddyk!nk, profanity, overstim, praisek!nk, innocencek!nk, all the usual stuff for me

Elvis was the one to expose you to a lot of your firsts. Your first kiss, your first time in Las Vegas, your first designer dress, your first sip of alcohol but most importantly, your first experience of sexual pleasure.

Now, despite your innocence, even you knew that Elvis had been with many lovers and was well known for his abilities in the bedroom. Sure, it made you a little hesitant at first, a little scared that he would find someone more exciting and experienced than you and forget all about you. Actually, you were more than a little scared of that happening, you were terrified, you didn't even want to fall for Elvis because you never felt that you were worth the famous man's time or attention but oh Lord, you fell hard.

And you could tell straight away why so many people fell for him, when he looked at you, it felt like he was looking through to your soul and out the other side again. It was like you were the only person in the world to him in that moment.

But when Elvis introduced you to the world of pleasure and sex, you couldn't get enough. You were nervous during your first times, so, so nervous and Elvis could tell. But he went slowly with you, praising you and cooing at you as you took all of him, even if it stretched your walls and made a few sweet, little tears trickle down your cheeks.

Elvis would always praise you and make it clear what he was doing too, never leaving you in the dark.

"M'gonna take off these pretty lil' panties now, little girl."

"Open them lips f'me doll, that's it, just like that, good." He would hiss.

"Daddy's gotchu, s'okay baby, yer likin' that ain't ya? S'okay, I know yer overstimulated. That's my girl."

"Yer takin' my fingers so well little one, that's right, you're doin' so good f'me. You like that dontchu dolly? Yeah? M'gonna add another finger, stretch out yer pretty lil' cunt, I know you can handle it baby."

And he'd delight in watching you get so worked up under him, writhing with pleasure and practically begging for more through whimpers and tears each time.

Yet still, that sweet naivety that clouded you never left. You were always still seeking Elvis' guidance and love and attention and that's when Elvis realised the gem that he had in you.

You'd gaze up at him with uncertainty, seeking reassurance with every move as he would teach you all the ways he enjoyed being pleasured and Elvis would have to stroke your pretty little head as he taught you how to give it.

You became obsessed with feeling pleasure from Elvis, you found yourself begging and mewling for it in the morning, whispering in Elvis' ear during the day asking for him to take you, and undressing yourself at the earliest opportunity in the evenings so that Elvis would have his way with you.

And he'd always chuckle at you fondly, adoring your sweet desperation.

You didn't even know the names of the acts that the two of you were performing but it didn't matter, your head became fuzzier and fuzzier over time, your only goal was to feel the pleasure that Elvis gave you.

And it wasn't long before Elvis realised you were his naive little nymphomaniac.

You were sat in your regular spot in the International, watching Elvis perform. You just thought he was oh so magical, the way he sang, the way he moved and gyrated on stage, captivating you and the rest of the audience. You watched tiny beads of sweat drip down his tanned face onto the chest hairs that were exposed by the white jumpsuit he wore.

He'd look over at you, every now and then, sending you a wink to make sure you knew he remembered that you were the most important little girl in the audience and by the end of the show, that sweet desperation that had started to become an all too familiar feeling, was creeping its way in.

And Elvis just loved to tease you. He practically relished in watching you whine and plead for his touch and his love, he just thought you were so sweet, especially when you still didn't understand half of what was going on, you just got so carried away.

So, when you and Elvis finally made it back up to the hotel suite after the show, you were nothing short of desperate. See, Elvis had this thing where he was just so damn nice to everyone that after a show, he'd go around and thank everyone for their hard work, and whilst you loved that about him, you were growing needier and needier by the second.

Elvis knew you all too well though, he knew that he was dragging this out for his little desperate baby. In fact, he didn't just know, he enjoyed it. Elvis decided to drag out the process and turn you into his own needy little mess tonight.

"You look so pretty tonight baby, y'know that? Got all dressed up n'pretty f'me huh?" Elvis teased, lowering his head slightly to kiss the top of yours as his large hand traced your skimpy, sparkly dress that he'd bought for you, only three days before.

You gulped and nodded quickly, smiling and letting out a giggle - he'd barely touched you and yet there you were all flustered.

It was no surprise though that just a couple of loving words and a gentle touch from Elvis would send you spiralling each time he did it. You'd never experienced life the way that you had since Elvis came into it, before Elvis, you would attend your part time job, go to the library and do your studies. It was mundane, unexciting, and repetitive. Then, you met the most famous man in the entire world and everything changed, you had so many new experiences from spending hours in lavish boutiques, to dining next to the King of Rock n' Roll as you both sat in the crowd, watching Frank Sinatra singing.

In all honesty, it was a life you were never prepared for, you still weren't adjusted to it all that well, that's why you clung to Elvis, he was like some form of security blanket for you, a protector of sorts that looked after you and cared for you. He knew you were new to everything so he would always take things slow with you, making sure that you were always okay and comfortable.

He'd help alleviate the stress of the lifestyle change in lots of ways, for example, he would choose what you wore each day and how you did your hair and make up. Now, many people had called this controlling, but how were you, a girl that had never stepped foot on the Las Vegas strip, supposed to know what to wear to a casino and show? Elvis knew what would look good on you and what would be appropriate for each occasion because Elvis always knew what was best for you. He ended up knowing you better than you knew yourself.

The new world that surrounded you, Elvis' world, was intoxicating. You hardly ever had time to think straight or understand what was going on around you.

But what you did know was that when Elvis touched you, you felt good, so you chased that feeling.

"C-Can we, can we do the stuff?" You whispered, avoiding Elvis' gaze.

Elvis smirked, oh Lord you were just the most adorable little thing. "The stuff? Well baby, yer gon' have to use a couple more words than that." Elvis said with a dry chuckle, lighting up one of the Cuban cigars that Sammy Davis Jr had gifted him.

You sighed a little, a mix of desperation, impatience, frustration and embarrassment. "Can, c-can you, touch me?" You asked softly. "Please?" You squeaked, pleadingly.

"Oh Little One," Elvis hushed, causing a sweet whine to leave your lips. "Y'need me t'touch you huh baby?" Elvis teased as you nodded almost frantically with wide eyes, leading him to chuckle at your state. "Need me t'make you feel good hm?" Elvis said, his eyes growing dark in comparison to your wide, sparkly eyes.

"Uh-huh," You squeaked adorably, barely an inch between the two of you.

God, Elvis could just devour you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he cupped your face in his large coarse hands, his left hand also holding his cigar between his fingers, the warm filler of it tinging the skin on your pink cheek, making you wince as you gazed up at him with eyes wider than a Disney princess.

"I ain't gon' touch you tonight honey, no, yer gon' do it all on yer own." Elvis whispered cooly, as you whined at the thought of not having him touch you, your eyes resembling that of a puppy dog as your desperation grew.

"What do you mean?" You murmured looking up at Elvis tentatively with a shaky voice as Elvis placed his large hand on the small of your back and guided you to the bed where he set you down, moving you like you were his own little doll, but in many ways, that's exactly what you were.

"You're so needy Little One, yer gon' have t'learn how to pleasure yerself baby," Elvis teased, facing you as you sat upright, letting his hands roam up your sides as your body trembled in his hold.

You chewed on your lip cutely, "Are you not gon' touch me at all?" You asked, your head tilting.

"No honey, y'gotta learn how to touch yerself, yer gon' touch yerself f'me okay baby?" Elvis instructed and you nodded despite feeling apprehensive. "Good girl." Elvis praised. "All I'm gon' do is get you undressed so I can watch all of you as you play with your lil' pussy."

You shivered as Elvis' coarse hands shimmied your dress up, exposing your white panties that already had a wet patch that was making the fabric sheer and translucent, letting Elvis see the pretty pink flesh that was so needy.

"Let's get these cute lil' panties off baby, looks like y'need them off." Elvis chuckled making you blush. "Oh baby, m'only teasin." Elvis said, soothing you as he dragged the damp panties over your legs, letting them pool at your feet as he grabbed each leg and helped untangle them from you, all the while being careful not to singe your skin with the burning cigar that he took a puff from every now and then. "Atta girl." He cooed. "Now, pretty girl, spread them legs f'me." Elvis instructed and you did exactly what you were told, gazing at him intently.

Elvis really had taken over your entire life, you basically worshipped the man. Sure, there was a noticeable age difference and there was a definite power imbalance but as much as you worshipped him, Elvis treated you like you were the most delicate, precious thing in his life.

Despite Elvis having all the power, he could practically feel his old men knees buckle whenever you would lie there on the mattress, staring up at him adoringly with those wide eyes full of curiosity and love. Your plump, glossy lips parted ever so slightly as you studied all of Elvis' movements as he took your tender wrist in his large hand, guiding your hand to your slick coated cunt.

Your breathing was shaky at best, your chest rising and falling ever so erratically, making Elvis smirk at how nervous you were, even though he knew how much you needed to be satisfied.

Slowly, he directed his hand over yours, making your soft, small fingers fondle your soaked folds, your slick leaking from your pussy as your fingers traced up and down your slit.

Your gaze wandered back and forth between Elvis and what was happening 'down there', the curiosity and nervousness getting the better for you as you let out soft gasps and mewls at yours and Elvis' actions.

"Keep going." Elvis commanded, removing his hand from yours, letting you continue on with the motions as you began to pleasure yourself in front of the old man. "Tell me how it feels honey." Elvis said, his voice emotionless as his eyes darkened on you as you squirmed about.

You blinked hazily, your mind becoming a mess, your attention becoming divided by the overwhelming sense of pleasure and the God of a man that stood at the end of the bed, towering over you, not taking his eyes off you and your body.

Only a single, small lamp illuminated the room in a dull, dark pink tone, the rest of the light coming from the Las Vegas strip, the bright lights reflecting into Elvis' suite, letting Elvis see the silouhette and highlights of your body as you let your fingers rub around your clit in circular motions, eliciting soft whines from you.

"Feels so... feels so nice." You sighed lazily, moving your hips in a pathetic attempt to create more pressure between you and your own hand - but Elvis could only find it adorable how desperate you were. "B-But," You said through breathy whimpers. "Want you."

Elvis smirked, a slight chuckle leaving him, one that had an almost sadistic tone to it as he walked to a chair opposite the bed and sat in it, taking a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke cloud him as he stared at you.

"Not tonight little girl. Yer gon' keep going until yer learn how to make yerself cum like a good girl." Elvis hissed, causing you to whine at his denial. "Tell me what yer gon' learn, I want to hear you say it." Elvis softly demanded.

"Gonna, gonna," You whined, trying to do as you're told all the while touching your cunt. "Learn how t'make myself cum." You recited, your mind becoming hazy and the pace of your fingers quickening.

"Why?" Elvis teased, enjoying watching you battle with yourself, as he made you have to think whilst he knew that all you wanted to do was mindlessly pleasure yourself.

"Good girl, m'a good girl." You whimpered, your eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"That's right baby." Elvis praised, taking a drag from his cigar, never letting his eyes leave your body. "Put your fingers in your pussy for Daddy." Elvis instructed firmly - almost coldly.

You blinked at him, pausing your motions to silently confirm what he had said to you.

"Now." Elvis growled and you nodded tearily, pushing two fingers into your soaked hole, whimpers leaving your lips as your pink cheeks felt tears trickling down them from the sensations and the experience.

"You've never fingered yerself, pretty girl?" Elvis asked, watching your trepidation and jolted movements, he could tell you were experienced from the smallest of things.

All you could manage was a shake of your head as it rested on the mattress, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head as you let your fingers pump in and out of your pink pussy - and if your cheeks weren't already pink enough, Elvis would've seen a blush creeping onto your face at the question.

You cry out adorably from the pleasuring feeling, as you practically hump your own fingers, not noticing that Elvis is now palming the large bulge in his pants.

Oh, how he loved to be the one to corrupt you like this.

"Faster." Elvis demanded before you stared at him with nerves and apprehension in your eyes. "Don't you want to be my good girl?" Elvis teased, exploiting your desire for praise.

You nodded feverishly, tossing your head back onto the mattress as you let your fingers tease your hole at a quicker pace, slipping through your walls, your own slick acting as lube.

"Look at you, so needy, doin' such a good job of playing with your cunt and puttin' on a show fr' Daddy." Elvis praised, knowing his words would send you spiralling.

And he didn't stop, urging you on with gentle commands, praises and downright filthy comments as he got off to you masturbating for the first time.

"Such a needy puppy, ain't ya? That's it, doin' such a good job baby."

"Yer such a pretty sight fr' Daddy, fuckin' yerself with those fingers baby, it's okay, you can go faster, you can do it."

"Just breathe baby, y'can fit in another, I know that pretty pussy of yours can handle it. Good girl, that's it."

"Feelin' good huh? Gon' touch yerself when I'm on stage huh? Yer cunt that desperate huh kid?"

Elvis continued teasing and praising you, talking you through your first orgasm from your own masturbation, your mewls turning into full-blown cries before your body collapsed, and you lethargically pulled your fingers from your glistening, wrecked cunt.

You pushed yourself up and blinked adorably, looking at the wet patches on the silk bedding before you shyly looked up at Elvis.

"M'sorry, I made a mess on your sheets." You whimpered, still feeling overwhelmed and extra-sensitive, sniffling as you wiped away a stray tear.

Elvis couldn't help but smirk at the adorable sight in front of him.

You, the love and light of his life, a naked, flustered, soaked mess on his silk bed sheets, your chest rising and falling erratically as you came down from your self-inflicted high.

"Uh-uh, ain't nothin' t'be sorry about baby." Elvis cooed and he watched relief wash over you as you offered him the goofiest, sweetest smile at the reassurance and Elvis felt his both his heart and cock jump.

How had he been so lucky to have such a sweet, little, naive nymphomaniac such as you?

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gensideas · 2 months ago

Text

LOVE IN THE SPOTLIGHT

summary Y/N Sánchez, daughter of Roselyn Sánchez, appeared on Jimmy Kimmel with her fiancé, Drew Starkey. While Y/N spoke confidently about her career, Drew couldn’t hide his admiration, often losing focus as he gazed at her. His lovestruck demeanor contrasted with Y/N’s composure, creating a sweet and memorable moment that left fans swooning over their undeniable chemistry.

features Fiancé!Drew Starkey x Fiancé!actress!reader

The bright lights of the studio shone down on me as I adjusted the hem of my flowing emerald-green dress. It hugged my figure perfectly, a piece from a designer who had insisted I wear it to highlight my poise and grace. But I wasn’t thinking about the dress or the cameras pointed at me. I was thinking about Drew Starkey, my fiancé, sitting just a few feet away. His piercing blue eyes followed my every movement, a soft smile playing at his lips.

Being the daughter of the legendary actress Roselyn Sánchez, I was a rising star in my own right. My breakout role in a critically acclaimed drama had catapulted me to the spotlight, and now I was the name on every producer’s lips. Despite my rapid ascent, I remained grounded, thanks in no small part to Drew, whose quiet confidence and unwavering support made him my anchor.

“We’re ready for you,” a producer’s voice called.

I gave Drew a quick glance. He gave me a reassuring nod, though his gaze lingered a bit too long. My beauty had always captivated him, but tonight, under the soft glow of studio lights, I felt otherworldly.

The interview set was elegant, with plush chairs and a backdrop of shimmering gold curtains. I took my seat beside Drew, the host across from us. The audience clapped enthusiastically, the excitement palpable.

“Good evening, everyone!” Jimmy began, flashing a practiced smile. “Tonight, we have two incredible guests: the stunning Y/N Sánchez and her fiancé, the talented Drew Starkey. Let’s give them a warm welcome!”

The applause swelled, and my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Drew, who was already looking at me, his expression soft and unguarded. He seemed utterly unaware of the cameras or the audience—his world had narrowed to just me.

“Y/N, your performance in Eclipsed Dreams has been called transformative. How does it feel to step out of your mother’s shadow and establish your own legacy?” Jimmy asked.

My smile widened. “It’s surreal. Growing up, I always admired my mother’s work, but she encouraged me to find my own path. It’s been a challenging journey, but I’m grateful for the opportunities and for the people who believe in me.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And Drew, you’ve been quite the supportive partner. What’s it like watching Y/N rise to stardom?”

Drew chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly, it’s mesmerizing. She’s incredibly talented, hardworking, and… well, look at her.” He gestured toward me, his voice tinged with awe. “She’s breathtaking.”

The audience swooned, and my face turned a deeper shade of pink. “You’re too much,” I murmured, though the sparkle in my eyes revealed my delight.

“Drew, you’ve built an impressive career yourself,” Jimmy continued. “What’s the key to balancing your own busy schedule with supporting Y/N?”

“Communication and respect,” Drew said. “We both have demanding careers, but we make time for each other. It helps that we genuinely enjoy spending time together—she’s my favorite person.”

“That’s so sweet,” Jimmy said, turning back to me. “Y/N, do you find inspiration in Drew’s work?”

I nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. Drew is so dedicated to his craft. Watching him immerse himself in his roles motivates me to give my all in my own performances. We’re constantly learning from each other.”

“It sounds like you have a wonderful partnership,” Jimmy said. “One last question: What’s next for both of you?”

I exchanged a glance with Drew before answering. “I’m working on a new project that’s still under wraps, but I’m really excited about it. It’s something completely different from anything I’ve done before.”

“And I’ve got a couple of films lined up,” Drew added. “But we’re also making sure to carve out some time for ourselves. Life is about balance, after all.”

The audience applauded as Jimmy wrapped up the interview. “Y/N and Drew, thank you so much for joining us tonight. We can’t wait to see what the future holds for you both.”

When the cameras stopped rolling, we lingered on the set, chatting with the host and producers. Drew’s hand never left mine, a quiet but constant reassurance.

“You were incredible,” Drew whispered as we walked toward our car. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“You’re biased,” I teased.

“Maybe,” he admitted, pulling me close. “But it’s the truth.”

We paused under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, the city’s hum around us. Drew cupped my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’re a star, and not just on screen.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I leaned into his touch. “I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

Our lips met in a tender kiss, sealing a moment that felt timeless.

The interview aired the following evening, and social media exploded with praise. Fans gushed over my grace and Drew’s evident adoration. A clip of Drew’s comment about my beauty went viral, earning us the nickname “Hollywood’s Sweethearts.”

As we sat together in our cozy living room, scrolling through the flood of messages, Drew wrapped an arm around me. “Looks like people are just as mesmerized by you as I am.”

“By us,” I corrected, resting my head on his shoulder. “We’re a team, Drew.”

He kissed the top of my head. “The best team.”

And as the night stretched on, filled with laughter and love, I knew that no matter how bright my star shone, it would always shine brightest with Drew by my side.

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littleprinces · 8 months ago

Text

712 Times

(Weeekly Han Jihyo x Male Reader, A lot of Degrading, Rope Play, Pet Play, Vibrator, Nipple Clamps, Daddy kink, titfucking, Idol Jihan)

(this is my first collab with @smutoperator)

Happy Jihan Day!

In the dimly lit backstage of a bustling concert hall, excitement and anticipation filled the air. The stage was set for our highly anticipated comeback showcase, and I could hear the eager fans waiting on the other side of the curtain. Amidst the scattered crew members and bustling assistants, I stood there, my heart racing with a mixture of pride and longing. My girlfriend, Jihan, the enchanting idol, was out there performing with her group.

Tonight was special. After months of preparation, sweat, and tireless dedication, my girlfriend and her five group members were making their grand return to the spotlight. The thought of her captivating presence on stage brought a smile to my lips, but it also reminded me of the distance fame had placed between us. Yet, I cherished these moments when I could be near her, even if only from the shadows.

The muffled cheers of the audience reached my ears as the performance began. I could almost see her in my mind—her bright smile, graceful movements, and sheer charisma that made her an idol adored by many. As each song concluded, the applause grew louder, affirming the group's triumphant return. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, but finally, the showcase came to an end. The stage lights dimmed, and the audience's applause gradually faded.

I took a deep breath, my anticipation growing. Moments later, the backstage area buzzed with activity as the performers filed in, surrounded by their entourage. And then I saw her—my girlfriend, her face glowing with the exhilaration of the performance. As the performance ended and the backstage area buzzed with activity, I finally saw her making her way towards me. Her face lit up as she spotted me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"You were amazing out there," I said, pulling her into a tight hug. She laughed softly, a little out of breath. "Thank you. I could feel your support the whole time." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You always shine so brightly." She blushed, leaning in for a quick kiss. "It's because I have you cheering me on. It makes all the difference."

We lingered in each other's arms for a moment longer before I asked, "Ready to head home?" She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. Let's get out of here." Hand in hand, we made our way through the backstage chaos, slipping out to the quiet comfort of her apartment. In the car, she sighed contentedly. "I missed this. Just being with you, without all the noise."I squeezed her hand. "Me too. Let's make the most of tonight." As we reached her apartment and settled in, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us.

Jihan's new blonde hair made her look so hot it felt like she was 712 times more fuckable with it. Her 20th birthday was just a couple days away, so I felt like it was the perfect time to show her how much I wanted it and turn her into my personal pet. I tied her ankles and cuffed her hands, ready to dominate her and make her transition from an innocent teenager into a full-fledged slut. She had never ventured into this kind of relationship before, but I could tell she was really excited to try it.

I picked up a crop and gave Jihan's pussy a few taps that made her moan, teasing her on the apartment's couch as I quickly pulled her panties to the side. "Put your tongue out," I told her, giving it a few taps. After a few light hits in her clit, I took her bra off and started spanking her big tits with it, having fun with her sexy young body, before switching to using my own hands to grope her tits and finger her perfect pussy.

"I'm just teasing you, there is much more to come," I told Jihan, giving her body a few spanks. "What do you want little whore?" I asked her. "I want this fucking cock," she said with a soft voice. I answered her wishes, unzipping my pants for her to suck it, giving her back some light taps as Jihan slowly got my cock wet with her sloppy blowjob that made her tits bounce freely, while I reached to tap them from time to time.

"I see you like to take that cock deep in your throat; you suck it so good," I told her. I grabbed Jihan by her beautiful blonde hair, reaching to get a whip as she took my cock all the way down her throat. Shortly after, I started spanking her and then moved to fuck her pretty face. "You like that?" I asked her. "Ahhhh, yeah," Jihan moaned. "Say it." I increased the speed of the spanking, hitting her back multiple times. "Oh, I love it, Daddy," Jihan replied.

"Be a good girl; get on your knees on the couch and show me those tits," I demanded of her. Jihan gave me a cute stare and squeezed her big boobs between her tied-up arms. "What do you want, Jihan? My big cock after the showcase?" I asked her. "Yes, please, Daddy, please put it between my tits," she begged.

I did just that and started banging Jihan's big boobs. Quickly, I got back to spanking her. "Yes, yes, please, Daddy, spank me; I'm a bad girl, i'm your private whore" Jihan says, her eyes begging for me to dominate her as my meat got sandwiched between her big pair of tits. "Keep going, keep going, bounce those big tits in my cock," I said to her.

I show Jihan not only can I spank it with my whip, using my cock to hit her tits. "You like the way I treat your big tits?" I asked her. "Yes, daddy," she says. "You want that big dick inside you, Jihan?" I keep asking. "Please, Daddy," she says. "Maybe later, I'll think about it, but you'll have to deserve it," I tell her.

I tie Jihan to the couch's leg and start eating her pussy. "Don't cum, bitch, or you're not going to get my cock for tonight," I tell her. Her pussy turns into my playground as I massage it while kissing her and sucking her big milkers. My hands go deep down in her cunt, and soon I bring a cock-shaped vibrator into the mix, putting it on Jihan's mouth. "Get it wet; you'll have to take it your pussy to show me you deserve my cock," I tell her.

I move the vibrator into Jihan's entrance, slowly tucking it in her pussy as I turn it on, making her moan hard. I also pay special attention to her already erected nipples, massaging and sucking them multiple times as Jihan is already collapsing in pleasure before I even got inside her. Then I use the crop for some extra taps in her boobs to tease her.

I ran the crop around Jihan's thighs, spanking the area close to her pussy. "Count to ten each time I spank it," I tell her. "One, two, three, AHHHHH," Jihan says every time I hit her. I move up and go back to tease her boobs and then play further with the vibrator, turning Jihan into a mess of begging and moaning. "Stay strong. If you cum, you won't get Daddy's cock," I tell her.

After a long warming-up session, I'm finally ready to fuck the brains out of my girlfriend turned pet, removing the vibrator from Jihan's already extremely wet pussy. "Get back on the couch and turn around; I want you to show me that ass," I demand of her. Jihan gets on all fours in the couch, and as soon as she does, I violently whip her butt multiple times. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams. "Tell me what you want," I ask her. "YOUR COCK INSIDE ME," she screams.

Jihan's panties get pulled down as I marvel at the view of her perfect ass. More spanking ensues. "Little Slut wants my cock inside of her?" I keep asking. "YES, DADDY, GIVE ME ALL OF IT," she begs, screaming again. "Why do you want it?" I keep teasing. "Because it's so good, I want to be a good pet for Daddy, his little big tit cocksleeve," Jihan replies.

"Then take it," I say, putting my cock on Jihan's pussy and pounding her hard on all fours. "YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," she screams as I dominate her and spank her back and ass with my bare hands. Jihan's pussy get mercilessly fucked, her big boobs already bouncing hard. I treat her like a fleshlight. "Spank me, daddy, spank me, please," she says as I abuse her asscheeks and quickly make them red, enjoying how far that makes her boobs jiggle.

"OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as I keep attacking her pussy hard and deep. Her bouncy tits are such a spectacle, and her needy face even more so. Good lord, I could fuck her for 712 straight hours and never get tired of it.

"Pull my hair, please, Daddy, and spank me more," Jihan begs as I push her hot body closer to mine. That little horny pet keeps getting obliterated as I show no signs of slowing down, giving her tight young pussy the pounding it deserves. "AHHHHHH," Jihan screams again as I do it just as she asks. "You told me to do that; don't complain, little slut," I tell her.

"DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OHHHHHHH," Jihan screams. I spank and fuck her even harder when I hear those words, fully mounding on top of her. Face down, ass up like a good slut, I treat Jihan like an object, only useful to get stretched out by my raging boner. She can only moan and scream as her big tits get pancaked against the couch each time I hit her deep in the pussy.

"Come here, little whore, show me how much you want to sit on that cock," I tell her, flipping Jihan back and feeding her face full of cock with no breaks in between. "Good slut, look at those beautiful bouncy tits; you're so good," I say to her. Jihan presses her beautiful, cute face against my cock, and I fully take her panties off and order her to suck my prick as I lie on the couch, spanking her while she does it. "Keep sucking that cock," I tell her as she tries to resist all that spanking.

"Sit that wet pussy in there," I soon demand, spanking Jihan's already red butt as soon as she puts my cock back inside her. Her big, bouncy boobs are already within range as Isuck them every time they come close to my face. "Give those titties to Daddy," I say, quickly taking control as I pound Jihan from down low and attack her tits with my tongue and her ass with my hands.

"Come on, use that cock; show me how much you like it," I tell Jihan, who's never been stimulated like that. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Cum all over that fucking cock," I say, pounding her like crazy as Jihan collapses on top of my body. But I don't care and just keep fucking her throbbing cunt, also fingering her asshole to add to the stimulation, making Jihan cover my cock full of juices, using the crop to add to the ass-spanking of her.

I keep fucking Jihan nonstop as she clings onto my arms. She may be on top, but I completely own her. My girlfriend is turned into a free-use fleshlight who can't stop cumming on my cock. "Ride that fucking cock, slut," I demand of her, who bounces her red ass on it like a good slut. "Is that what you want, right little fuckdoll?" I tell her. "YES, DADDY," she replies.

I dive my face into Jihan's udders while she keeps riding my pole, her boobs hitting my mouth from every angle, making me go even more feral as her pussy is fully stretched out. "Stand up on the couch," I tell her as I pull out of her pussy, but my cock gets quickly replaced by my fingers massasing her core and making her squirt fountains of juices right straight into my mouth.

More riding ensues, as I'm now just watching Jihan do it in a straightened position, reaching with my hands and my crop to hit her big bouncy tits at will. Soon, I'm back to hitting Jihan's whole body: her pretty slutty face, her fully shaved pink pussy, her sexy butt, but first and foremost her massive milkers. "KEEP STRETCHING MY HOLES, DADDY," Jihan screams as I do just that.

After I'm done with this round of fucking, I let Jihan taste all the juices she coated my cock with, giving a gift to my cute pet as she bobs her head all over that big shaft. "Choke on that fucking cock," I tell her. "Now give me those tiddies," I quickly demand as Jihan spits between them and uses her boobs to massage my throbbing cock until you shot my load all over them.

"Damn, look at the mess I made on your big milkers," I told Jihan. But I was far from done, picking some clamps and placing them at her cum-covered nipples. "Your day as my pet is just beginning," I said. Next, I placed a dog collar on her neck and gave her an order. "Get on all fours; we're going to a different room, and I'm gonna fuck your even more," I told her. Jihan obeyed and crawled like a puppy until we reached our next destination.

Waiting for Jihan, there was an X-cross where I tied her up. As I slowly got myself hard again, I sucked her big tits and reached inside her wet pussy, teasing my pet girlfriend. "This is way more entertaining than what I was expecting," I tell Jihan. "Ohhh, yesss, Daddy, you like treating me like your pet?" Jihan asks. "A lot," I say as I start jerking off my cock and quickly get it back to throbbing hard for Jihan.

I slap my cock on Jihan's sexy thighs as I kiss her and finger her core. She starts moaning back again as I lift her left leg and put my cock back in her pussy. "Oh yes, that feels so good," Jihan says as I thrust my cock in and out of her cunt. "Just like that, Daddy," she says. I put her back on her feet and sucked her tits. "Such a good toy," I say.

I pick up the crop back and spank her ass, then tease her boobs and circle it around her nipples; more ass spanking follows as a tied-up Jihan can't do anything to stop me. Her boobs once again get the most attention as I do the sucking and spanking at the same time, before moving down into her pink pussy.

"What are you going to do next, Daddy?" Jihan asks. "You'll find out soon," I tell her. "Please, let me find out, Daddy," an already numb Jihan replies as I tease her clit with the crop. "But first I need to eat," I say, diving into her wet pussy to suck it. "Damn, daddy, that feels so good; I love that tongue," Jihan says.

"Does that pussy taste good enough for Daddy?" Jihan asks as she starts trembling, getting very weak as she's being held at the cross. "All my body is tingling, Daddy," she says as I move up to suck her tits and feed your fingers in her mouth.

"I want to fuck you from behind while you are standing," I tell Jihan. "Yes, Daddy, do whatever you want," she replies. I untie Jihan from the cross as she sucks my cock to get it back wet. "All I want to do is please you, Daddy," she says. "Then please me taking more cock in that pussy," I say, getting behind her and stretching her out once again, loving how the clamps on her nipples are bouncing when I fuck her.

"Is that pussy good enough for Daddy? Nice and wet, like you want it? Am I a good girl, Daddy?" Jihan keeps asking, but I let my thursts do the talk as her pussy starts queefing. "Yes, daddy, please, use my fucking hole," she says as my hips clap against her cheeks.

"Please keep fucking me; I'm Daddy's pet; that cock feels so good; please don't stop; Daddy loves my pussy," Jihan says as I indeed can't stop, giving her the special fucking I craved for, spending long minutes taking her from behind.

Jihan coats the floor with her squirt, and as soon as she does, I take it as a sign to push it harder. I lift Jihan's body up and start carry-fucking her. "OH MY GOD, DADDY," she screams as I attack her pussy while being the only one holding her so she doesn't fall off. "OH DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN," an exausted Jihan says.

"No, you're gonna make me cum," I tell Jihan, brining her back to the couch and putting her sideways. "Your cock feels so good in my tight little pussy, daddy," Jihan says as she gets a good spooning fuck on the couch. After a while, I take her off of it and pin her against the glass, giving her another pounding. "Please, Daddy, give me more," she begs. It seems like I have fucked Jihan throughout the entire apartment at this point, but I just don't want to stop.

More spanking in Jihan's butt follows. "Harder, harder, please fuck me harder, Daddy," she begs, as she can barely stand up at this point. I have fucked her for around 30 minutes, but to her it must have felt like 3 hours considering how hard I have screwed her little pink pussy.

Jihan can barely walk at this point, but that won't stop me from using her for more pleasure. I feed my cock in her face again as I put her tied hands up. "Are you ready for another surprise, little pet?" I ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies.

I bring a Sybian for Jihan to sit on, taking the controller on my hands. I start slowly, letting the vibrating cock work in her pussy as I watch her get wetter and wetter while I grab her tits. Slowly picking up speed, I put Jihan at the mercy of the machine while I dive her head into my shaft and pinch her clamped nipples. More face-fucking ensues as the sybian now works at full speed inside Jihan's cunt, to the point she can't contain herself anymore.

"Ride that dick, little whore" I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"AHHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, PLEASSSEEEEEE, FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as she collapses after the intense Sybian massage. But I have one more massage to give her, laying her back on the couch, ready to finish where it all started as I put Jihan under a mating press and intensely pound her pussy.

"Give me every single massage of that fucking cock, daddy," Jihan says. "I want you to cum inside my pussy; I want you to give me every single drop," she begs. That truly surprises me. Jihan had not taken any birth control pills, meaning she was essentially begging me to impregnate her, and surely I was gonna take the opportunity, emptying my balls inside her shortly after she demands to get her tight pussy filled up.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

Back in Jihan's pussy I go, and she loves it. "Yes, daddy, yes, please, use that pussy for your pleasure; my pussy is all yours," Jihan moans. "I fucked your friend Zoa in that position a month ago for her birthday; her legs were so fucking long and her pussy so fucking tight I couldn't resist and had to cum inside her," I brag to Jihan, talking about how I cheated on her with her groupmate straight to her face, risking no consequences whatsoever because I own her.

"Ride that dick," I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

#female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #weeekly smut #jihan smut #han jihyo

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senseofnewness · 7 months ago

Note

What do you think dating Stanford!art is like?

stanford!art being your college boyfriend [NSFW]

• you met during orientation week, despite having different majors, you and art were placed in the same group of fifteen people, all wearing matching blue 'stanford' t-shirts, everyone was quiet and shy at first, but with each building visited, the atmosphere grew more comfortable

• during the campus tour, you muttered a few sarcastic comments under your breath, causing him to chuckle more than once, amused by your wit, he gravitated towards you and introduced himself, walking by your side for the rest of the tour

• afterwards, each time you met him in the corridors, you would nod and greet each other with a playful "sup, blue" referencing your orientation group, he always responded with a huge grin, and it was then you began to notice just how cute he looked, you thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t like all of those stupid jocks, or maybe he was, you had barely exchanged two words but getting to know him could be worth it

• one day, during lunch, you found yourself standing behind him in line at the cafeteria and greeted him as you filled your tray with food, after a quick, casual chat about how school was going, he invited you to join him and his friends at his table, "sure" you answered with a shrug, thinking you were going to eat alone anyway, so why not join the hot boy from the tennis club?

• at the table, he introduced you as his friend, even though you would consider him barely an acquaintance, just a familiar face you were always pleased to see, you quickly got along with everyone, your talkative nature taking over, from time to time, you felt art's eyes on you, an amused smile lingering on his lips as he sat across from you

• he had mentioned having a match the following day and invited you to come along, you barely knew anything about tennis, but you thought this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about him, as tennis seemed to be such an important part of his life, so you accepted his invitation and promised to be there to cheer him on

• the match took place at 2pm the next day and your neck was starting to ache from following the ball as it flew from one side of the court to the other, art returned every volley with precision, steadily gaining the upper hand over his opponent, you knew nothing about the rules of tennis, but the cheers from the audience were enough to assure you that art was winning the match

• art had humiliated his opponent, the score so one-sided it was almost absurd, you skipped down the bleachers to join him on the court, "well played, blue!" you called out, your voice carrying over the distance, he waved at you, a smug look on his face, "thanks" he said, "you should stick around, we’re having a little celebratory get-together”

• once at the party, it didn’t take long for the yapper in you to find a group of people to overshare with, but art remained by your side, filling your glass every time it came close to being empty, there was something truly endearing about the way he noticed when you were about to finish your drink, always making sure you never got thirsty, on the other hand, you couldn't help but wonder if it was wise to trust a stranger with your drink

• now it was just the two of you, you were tipsy and art was discussing the earlier match in detail, although you had no particular interest in talking about tennis at the moment, or ever, art made it captivating, you hung on every word, your eyes fixed on his lips, "what do you think?" he asked, pulling you out of your reverie, "what?" you blurted out, "seems like you're really into tennis" he teased, "what can I say? i love balls", both of you chuckled, "you kinda remind me of my friend patrick", what did that mean? his friend? you had no desire to be just his friend, you needed to make your intentions clear, "why? does he love your balls too?"

• "dance with me” you said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, "i can't dance" he protested, though he followed you willingly, like a docile boy, "come on, it's not rocket science, just put your hands on me and move", his hands settled on your hips as you swayed your body against his to the music, the space between you diminished as he leaned in, his eyes locking with yours, you tilted your head slightly and he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss, first gentle, then more passionate as tongues met, tangling, you could taste the alcohol in his saliva

• the rest of the night passed in a blur, with you and art making out in every corner of the place, each time someone approached, you would shift to a new spot, not out of embarrassment but to avoid being interrupted by chatter, all you wanted was to keep your lips pressed against his, to feel the thrill of his touch, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him, there was something irresistibly addictive about the sensation of his soft blond curls slipping through your fingers, soon, it became harder to breathe, and you found yourself craving more of him with an intense, almost desperate hunger

• you were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around Art’s hips as he stood before you, the heat between your core and his growing more intense by the second, you felt an urgent need for him, “we should go to sleep” you suggested, lying in hopes that he would catch your hint, “i should walk you to your dorm” he murmured against your lips, reluctantly pulling away, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”

• the walk back to your place was a mix of light-hearted chatter and giggles, as you reached your door, you lingered there, biting your lower lip in anticipation while fiddling with your keys, “want to watch a movie?” you asked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “sure” he replied, his eyes bright with desire as he followed you inside after you unlocked the door

• the first movie played, then the next, and the one after that, but you barely registered what was on the screen, you were way too focused on him, comfortably wrapped in his embrace and between kisses and sharing stories about your lives, you learned about Art’s years at the tennis academy in Florida, his best friend Patrick, and his beloved grandmother, but you also became intimately familiar with his body, you weren’t sure who made the first move, perhaps it was you, but your hand now caressed his length, while his fingers teased your clit, both of you moaning softly, lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch

• after minutes of intense overstimulation, both of you were exhausted, breathing heavily, “shit, i should go” art muttered, quickly standing up, “the coach is going to get my ass if i'm late to morning practice”, you pouted in disappointment as he adjusted his semi-hard cock back into his pants while you wiped his cum off your hand onto your shirt, “give me your phone” you said, extending your now-cleaned hand, he passed it over and you began typing in your number, “text me when you’re back at your dorm” you instructed, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty boy like you”, his smile widened at your teasing remark echoing his earlier words

• you had fallen asleep after his departure and the first thing you noticed when you woke up was his ‘morning, blue’ text, the fact that he had thought about you first thing after training brought a smile to your face, throughout the day, you exchanged texts about nothing and everything all at once, later that day, you joined him after classes, eager to see him in person, nothing was better than being face-to-face and lips-to-lips

• in the days that followed, sneaking into each other’s dorms after authorized hours became a thrilling game, dodging the resident assistants’ watchful eyes, you’d slip into each other’s beds, where you mostly got off by dry humping, though you were ready for more but art wanted to take things slow, wanting to show you it was more than just sex, and while you thought his intentions were sweet, you secretly wished he would stop respecting you so much and just stretch you out with his pretty cock

• it took just a few more days before art was balls deep inside you, his resolve crumbled when you sat on top of him and rubbed yourself against his bulge, in a swift motion, he flipped you over and undressed you, rolling on a condom before thrusting himself inside, he fucked you like no one ever had, releasing all the built-up tension, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his asscheeks, and your moans were muffled by his mouth on yours, he had made you come more than once that night

• art was also the first guy to venture his tongue between your legs, apart from a boyfriend or two, you weren't that experienced, and no one had ever shown interest in pleasuring you that way, so when art ate you out for the first time, it was a revelation, you doubted you could ever go back to anything else but oral sex, while art was certainly a good fuck, his dick was far less skilled than his tongue, he attentively sucked on your swollen clit, turning you into a moaning mess, and all you had to do was lie there and watch him work, his face glistening with your juices, you loved being helpless under his care

• you only realized how much you cared about him when you saw him interacting with another girl in the cafeteria, tashi duncan, you recognized her from the posters, she was leaning over the table, chatting with him, and he was smiling back at her, the sight ignited a wave of jealousy in you and you moved closer to the table as she walked away, “who was she?” you asked, sitting down beside him, he looked at you before responding that she was a friend of his, “she’s cute” you added, a hint of bitterness lacing your voice, “didn’t notice” he replied, though you could tell he was lying, “sure” you said, rolling your eyes, only an idiot would miss tashi’s charms, but it’s not like you could act possessive and call him out on his bullshit, after all, you didn’t own him, you weren’t his girlfriend

• you were studying in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed, when he finally spoke the words you had been waiting to hear, “you know i like you a lot” he confessed, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that revealed his nervousness, you could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying his emotions, “i do too” you replied, meeting his gaze with a smile, then, with a hopeful tone, he asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend?” you grinned, your heart swelling with happiness, “wait, i wasn’t already?” you teased, pretending to be shocked, “shit, i need to cancel the wedding!” with a laugh, you nodded your head and cupped his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips

• making it official had made everything more concrete, taking things to a more intense level, sure, you were already spending every night fucking each other’s brains out, but now condoms were a thing of the past, fucking you raw had made a monster out of art, he reveled in every opportunity to fill you with his cum, enjoying the sight of his warm load dripping out of you down your thighs, in the past, he had come covered your body with his semen, ass, face, tits, multiple times, but now that seemed wasteful, only your tight little cunt was worthy of welcoming him, and he made sure to take full advantage of it

• you became his biggest cheerleader, attending every match, proudly wearing t-shirts with his face and name on, the whole campus knew you as art donaldson’s girlfriend, and while you liked the attention, you couldn’t ignore the whispers, you secretly wished people would acknowledge you for your own accomplishments, rather than just being the tennis prodigy’s ‘pathetic little puppy who follows him around’

• while he had mostly called you ‘blue’ in the past, you now held the cherished title of ‘baby’ and being his baby came with certain privileges : his wardrobe had become yours, you had lost count of how many times you had stolen one of his shirts or caps, also he now walked you to your classes every day, hand in hand, always insisting on carrying your backpack, sometimes, you shared such long kisses in front of the classroom door that he ended up being late to his own class, everyone passing by shooting you side-eye glances, but you both are too wrapped up in each other to even care

• kissing wasn’t the only thing you did in public, you took great pleasure in giving art random boners, turning it into a game, a game that boosted your self-esteem like no other, you loved watching him struggle and blush as he tried to discreetly adjust his growing length in his pants, all it took was sitting on his lap and subtly rubbing your ass against him, pressing your breasts against his chest during hugs, playing with his hair, wearing shirts with no bra on, or simply licking your lip, okay, you had to admit, art was also the type of boy who got horny at the mere sight of you breathing

• a few weeks later, you finally met patrick, along with his girlfriend, tashi duncan, you had never approached her before, she was too intimidating for that, patrick, on the other hand, was as friendly as can be, filling every moment with questions and jokes, never allowing a second of silence to settle between you, you could see why art thought you were similar, both unable to shut up, with patrick around, you discovered a new side of art, a playful, childlike side, so while the two of them got caught up in their reckless antics, you found yourself stuck with tashi, gradually getting to know her and even ending up befriending her

• sometimes, after a long practice, art is too tired to join you in your room for the night, on those days, you make sure to convince him that you’re worth the exhaustion, like that time you sent him a picture of yourself wearing nothing but the blue shirt from orientation week, your nipples pressed hard against the fabric and your lacy panties sheer enough to reveal your hairless cunt, he was at your door in five minutes, his sore muscles an afterthought

• you two are like animals, fucking in every room and every position possible, gone was the shy, respectful art from orientation week who touched you with such a gentle care, he now grabbed you by the hair as he aggressively shoved his throbbing cock in you any time he felt like it, calling you like ‘his little whore’ while painting your walls with his thick cum, your sessions had become a contest of who could outmoan the other, often interrupted by banging on the walls and people yelling from the other side of the door

• it had only been two months of dating when he finally said "i love you", you were acting silly, making him laugh, when he blurted it out, taken aback, you felt a rush of emotions, you had wanted to say it for days but had not dared, when you had discussed it with your friends, they all agreed it was way too early for that, “i love you too” you eagerly whispered, pulling him into a deep kiss

• for your birthday, he had given you a silver necklace adorned with your birthstone, it was so beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he had chosen such a thoughtful gift, you only had been dating for a few months after all, you wore it every day, never taking it off except for showers, you loved how it hung perfectly between your breasts and how it bounced against your hard nipples while you rode art's hard cock

• “i want three kids” he said after fucking you, his hands wandering over your stomach, stroking it gently, “three?” you gasped in shock, “come on, let’s have one and then we’ll see” you tried to reason with him, but that only sparked new ideas in his head, “should we?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement, you knew he wanted children, it was obvious from all that dirty talk about filling you up and making him a daddy but you didn’t think he was that serious about it, “art, we’re 19” you reminded him and he shrugged nonchalantly in response, “so, am I just destined to be your little tennis wife? popping your babies out one after the other while you become a superstar?” you teased, though a part of you was serious, you had plans for your future, and while children were part of it, there were still so many things you wanted to experience and accomplish first, sure, you loved him, but you weren’t ready to be overshadowed by a man or to become just an extension of him

• for christmas, art visited his grandmother at her nursing home, and you insisted on coming along, bringing a batch of home-baked treats for her, when you finally met her, it was clear where art had inherited his sweet nature, watching him shower her with care and affection made you imagine a near future where you could give him the children he desired so much, ultimately your mother would forgive you for being a teen mom once she would hold your first child, right?

• his grandmother had come to adore you, and soon it was you insisting on visiting her, one day, she proudly showed you her ring, a cherished gift from her late husband, and promised that one day it would be on your finger, thoughts of weddings began to swirl in your mind and you found yourself wondering if being just an athlete’s wife might not be such a terrible fate after all

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #challengers 🎾#challengers #challengers fiction #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #challengers fanfiction #IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE THAT #ask

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bitchiswild · 6 months ago

Text

Pervert

G!P Karina x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.7 k

Warning: unprotected sex, slight choking,possessiveness, reader being a major pervert

A/n: hai 😝imma disappear after this again… sorry! i do miss yall tho!!!😩 smut is whatever tho not my best!! Fyi!!!

Requested

──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“Y/N!” Karina burst into the backstage area, panting heavily. She was supposed to be on stage in minutes, but a button on her shirt had popped off, leaving her in desperate need of a quick fix. And that meant she needed you—her stylist and dresser—to save the day.

Being Karina’s stylist had its ups and downs. On the plus side, she was incredibly kind, treated you with respect, and trusted your judgment completely when it came to her outfits. She made you feel like an essential part of her team, always listening to your suggestions and appreciating your work.

But there was also a downside—though you couldn’t exactly call it a ‘con.’ You had a hard time keeping your eyes off her, especially when dressing her. Your job gave you the perfect excuse to admire her body up close, particularly her chest, and you often found yourself getting lost in those moments. It didn’t help that Karina seemed to enjoy teasing you, flirting just enough to make your heart race.

It wasn’t really your fault, you reasoned. How could anyone blame you when Karina was standing right in front of you, practically glowing? And seriously—have you seen Karina?

You quickly grabbed your bag of sewing supplies and rushed over to Karina, ready to fix the button. As you got closer, she watched you with an expectant gaze, her eyes slightly hooded in a way that made you gulp. Despite the nerves bubbling up inside, you reminded yourself that you had a job to do.

Standing in front of her, you found yourself face-to-face with her chest, her curves mere inches from your own. It was like a dream come true, being this close to her, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. You began to sew the button back onto her shirt, trying to ignore the warmth radiating from her body and the way your hands trembled slightly.

As you worked, Karina lifted a hand and gently caressed your head. “That’s it, Y/N, you’re so good at this,” she murmured, her voice soft and almost sultry.

Your hands started to shake even more. Why did that sound so hot? Your heart raced at her innocent praise, though you knew you were only doing your job. But then again, Karina had a way of making everything she said feel like a tease, and her casual praise had always made your heart flutter.

Once you finished sewing the button back in place, you couldn't resist the temptation. You purposely let your hand graze against her boobs as you pulled away, feigning innocence. “All right! You’re all fixed up! You gotta head back on stage, Jimin,” you said, flashing her a wide-eyed, innocent look as if nothing had happened.

Karina stared at you for a moment, clearly not fooled. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you, Y/nnie,” she replied, her voice dripping with playful intent. Before you could respond, she winked at you and rushed off to the stage.

That wink nearly made your legs give out. You knew she was fully aware of the effect she had on you—how could she not be? And yet, there was something thrilling about the whole thing. The way she teased you, the way she knew exactly how to push your buttons, and the way you secretly loved every second of it.

Why did you enjoy it so much? Maybe it was because, in those fleeting moments, it felt like you were sharing a secret game that only the two of you understood.

You watched from backstage as Karina and the girls performed, completely mesmerized by their talent. As always, they were incredible—their vocals flawless, their dances sharp and synchronized. They were aces at what they did, captivating the entire audience with ease.

The show was nearly over, which meant it was time for you to prepare Karina’s going-home outfit. But with Aeri’s stylist absent today, you were also covering for her, adding a bit more pressure to your workload.

As the girls wrapped up their final number, they still had to greet the VIP fans who’d stayed for the after-show. But before they could do that, Aeri came rushing over to you, her face showing a mix of urgency and concern. “Y/N, the strap on my top just broke!” she exclaimed, holding up the loose fabric.

You heard her, but for a split second, your attention was completely elsewhere—specifically, on her chest. You couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way the broken strap left her top barely clinging to her body. It was only a moment, but you snapped out of it quickly, hoping Aeri hadn’t noticed your wandering eyes.

But someone else had noticed—Karina. From across the room, her gaze was locked on you, and the sight of you staring at Aeri’s chest sparked something inside her. Jealousy. It was subtle, but unmistakable. She knew exactly what was going through your mind, and it lit a fire in her that she couldn’t ignore.

You quickly focused on fixing Aeri’s top, your hands working with practiced efficiency. Once the strap was secured, she flashed you a grateful smile and rushed off to greet her fans. You breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have handled the situation without further incident.

But your relief was short-lived. As Aeri mingled with her fans, Karina, having just finished thanking her own, made a beeline straight for you. Her steps were purposeful, and you could tell by the way she moved that she had something on her mind.

“Y/N,” Karina said firmly, her tone leaving no room for misunderstanding.

Your heart dropped at the sound of her voice. Was she angry? Had you been too obvious? You hadn’t meant to stare, but it was right there in front of you—it had been impossible to resist. You swallowed nervously. “Y-Yeah?” you replied timidly, unsure of what was coming next.

“I saw you,” Karina stated, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Huh?” you responded, trying to play dumb, but your voice wavered.

“I saw you staring at Aeri’s tits,” Karina continued, her eyebrows arched and her arms crossed over her chest.

Your face flushed with embarrassment, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” you pleaded, panic setting in. The last thing you wanted was to upset Karina.

She stared at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, in one swift motion, she reached out and gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to her. Her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “The only tits you’re allowed to look at are mine,” Karina said firmly, her voice low and commanding.

Your jaw dropped at her words, shock rendering you speechless. Your face turned an even deeper shade of red as you processed what she’d just said. “I-I…” you stammered, completely at a loss for words. Your heart pounded in your chest, so loud you could almost hear it in your ears.

Karina’s grip on your jaw softened, but her gaze remained locked on you, waiting for a response. You could barely think, let alone speak, your mind racing with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and something else—something that made your pulse quicken in a way you hadn’t expected.

Karina’s hands slid down from your jaw, gripping your waist as she pulled you closer to her. Her lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I see the way you look at me,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry. “I see the way you look at my body. You want me, don’t you, Y/N?”

You gulped, unable to trust your voice to respond. The intensity of the moment left you speechless, your mind racing with a mixture of desire and disbelief.

Karina’s breath was warm against your ear as she continued, “Because I want you so bad.” Her words sent a jolt through your body, and before you could fully process what was happening, she grabbed your hands, guiding them to her chest. She pressed your hands against her breasts, forcing you to grip them.

A soft sigh escaped Karina’s lips, and the sound made your knees weak. You let out a quiet whimper, the sensation of her body against yours overwhelming your senses. The boundary between what was real and what you’d only dreamed about was quickly dissolving, and all you could do was hold on, completely captivated by her.

Karina's hands began to move over yours, her touch sending electric currents through your body. You sighed at the sensation, your heart racing, and the pulse between your legs intensified with every moment. You wanted Karina so badly it hurt.

Her other hand slid down, guiding your hand to her crotch. “You feel that, Y/N? You do this to me. You make me so hard,” Karina groaned into your ear, her voice thick with desire. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and your eyes locked onto hers, hooded and dilated with lust. You wanted nothing more than to kiss her, to close the distance between you.

Just as you began to lean in, there was a sudden knock at the door, startling you both. You jumped apart, the heat of the moment dissipating as reality crashed back in. Karina quickly turned away to change while you tried to collect yourself, your mind still reeling from what had just happened.

You opened the door to find Aeri standing there again. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes flickered down to her chest before quickly snapping back up. “Uh, sorry, just checking if your strap is holding up,” you said nervously, trying to cover your slip with a nervous chuckle.

Aeri chuckled in return. “Y/N, you’re a pro at sewing—it’s going to hold up just fine,” she reassured you before casually pulling off her shirt in front of you, leaving you momentarily speechless as your jaw dropped slightly.

“Where’s my going-home outfit?” Aeri asked, looking around the room as if she hadn’t just rendered you completely speechless. Your eyes remained glued to her chest, unable to tear yourself away.

Karina, now fully dressed, caught you staring and the jealousy in her eyes was unmistakable. “Y/N!” she snapped, her voice cutting through your daze and jolting you back to reality. You scrambled to find Aeri’s clothes, your hands fumbling as you handed them over to her.

“Here you go, Aeri,” you said sheepishly, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Aeri flashed you a cheesy smile before heading off to change, leaving you alone with Karina.

“What did I just tell you?” Karina’s voice was sharp, dripping with jealousy.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t help it!” you whimpered, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you.

“You’re such a fucking perv, Y/N,” Karina spat, her words like a punch to the gut. Your heart dropped, and you felt tears springing to your eyes. “Karina, I’m sorry! Please don’t tell anyone—I promise I’ll stop!” you pleaded, your voice trembling with desperation.

Karina’s expression softened for a moment, but there was a glint in her eyes that told you she was enjoying this—enjoying the power she held over you. Seeing you cry, seeing you so vulnerable, seemed to give her a twisted sense of satisfaction.

“I’m going to put you in your place, Y/N. The only person you’re allowed to stare at is me,” Karina said firmly, her voice leaving no room for argument.

“But—” you began to protest, your voice trembling with a mix of embarrassment and uncertainty.

“No buts,” Karina cut you off, her tone brooking no disagreement. “I better see you in my hotel room later, Y/N. Or so help me, I’ll make sure everyone knows about your little habit.” Her threat hung heavily in the air, a sharp reminder of the power she held over you.

You nodded quickly, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. “O-Okay,” you stammered, unable to look her in the eye.

Karina’s eyes held a steely resolve as she turned away, leaving you to grapple with the weight of her words.

You arrived at the hotel with a mix of anxiety and anticipation, your mind racing as you navigated through the lobby. Karina’s threat still echoed in your ears, and you couldn't shake the nervous energy that had settled in your stomach.

When you reached her door, you took a deep breath and knocked. The sound echoed through the hallway, amplifying your nerves. Moments later, Karina opened the door, her expression a mix of curiosity and determination.

“Come in,” she said, her tone firm but with a hint of anticipation.

You stepped inside, your heart racing. The room was tastefully decorated, and Karina was already in casual clothes, having changed out of her stage outfit. She gestured for you to sit on the couch while she moved to the other side of the room, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

“Did you think about what I said?” Karina asked, her voice carrying an undercurrent of authority.

You nodded, feeling your face flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “Yes, I did.”

Karina’s gaze was intense as she walked towards you, her movements deliberate. “Good. Because tonight, I want to make sure you understand just who you’re allowed to look at,” she said, her voice low and steady.

She sat down next to you on the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth of her body. “I’m going to show you exactly what I mean,” she continued, her eyes locked on yours. “And I want you to remember this moment, Y/N. Remember who has control here.”

As she spoke, Karina’s hand reached out to gently touch your arm, her touch sending a shiver through you. She leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing against your ear as she whispered, “You’re mine tonight. Don’t forget it.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in. “I won’t forget,” you promised, your voice barely above a whisper.

Karina smiled, a mixture of satisfaction and desire in her eyes. “Good,” she said, her hand moving from your arm to gently cup your cheek. “Now, let’s make sure you remember who you belong to.”

Without breaking eye contact, Karina guided you gently but firmly onto the bed. The sudden shift from the couch to the soft surface of the bed intensified the electricity in the room. You looked up at her, your heart pounding with anticipation and a touch of nervousness.

Karina followed you, her movements confident and assured. She positioned herself above you, her body pressing down against yours as she straddled your hips. Her eyes were dark with desire, and she leaned in close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Do you understand now?” Karina whispered, her lips almost brushing yours. Her hands explored your sides, her touch both tender and possessive. She paused, her gaze intense and searching.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, overwhelmed by the proximity of her body and the heat of the moment. The weight of her presence was exhilarating, and you could feel every touch, every movement acutely.

Karina’s hands roamed gently over your body, her fingers tracing along your curves with a mix of tenderness and assertiveness.

Karina’s hands gently gripped the bottom of your shirt, lifting it slowly as her eyes locked with yours. The intensity in her gaze made your breath catch, and you let out a shaky sigh. Her movements were deliberate, filled with an almost tangible anticipation.

Once your shirt was off, Karina’s hands continued their journey, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. She pulled them down slowly, her eyes never leaving yours, and you felt a rush of vulnerability and excitement.

Karina stood back up, her hands moving to your bra strap. She looked at you with a question in her eyes, seeking permission, which you gave with a slight nod. As she removed your bra, a low groan escaped her lips at the sight. The sound was both appreciative and possessive.

Karina’s hands roamed gently over your body, her touch exploratory and tender. As she leaned down, she placed a soft, lingering kiss on your chest. The warmth of her lips and the sensation of her touch created a mix of anticipation and comfort.

Her kisses deepened as she began to suck on your tits, each movement both electrifying and soothing. Her gentle touch with the intensity of her sucking left you breathless, your arms instinctively wrapped around her, pulling her closer, and you arched your back into her touch,

Karina’s right hand slid down to your lower body, her touch teasing and gentle as she made contact with your clit. Your breath catching in a gasp of pleasure. “Fuck Karina,” you whimpered, your voice filled with a mix of need and desperation.

“What is it, baby?” Karina’s voice was a low murmur against your chest, full of urgency.

“I need you,” you gasped out, your fingers gripping her hair as she continued to kiss and caress you with a desperate intensity. Her touch was relentless, making every sensation more acute. In one quick motion, Karina pulled off your panties, leaving you exposed. She swiftly followed, and you couldn’t help but let your gaze roam over her body.

“That’s it, baby. Look at me. I want you to focus on me and no one else,” she said firmly, her tone commanding.

Your eyes dropped to her body, and the sight of hergrowing cock made your breath hitch. The thought of feeling her inside you, was nearly overwhelming.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me,” Karina said as her fingers explored you. Her touch made you shiver, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Karina started moving her member against you. Each stroke slid smoothly against your dripping wetness. You could feel the slickness drip down you as her member glided against your soaked crotch, each movement adding to the pleasure driving you both wild.

The tip of her member brushed against your opening. “You’re mine, Y/N,” Karina whispered with a possessive edge. With that, she slid into you, filling you up with a deep, satisfying pressure. The sensation of her moving inside you was intense, and you could feel every shift and thrust.

You gasped at the overwhelming sensation, a mix of pleasure and surprise escaping your lips. “Oh my god,” you moaned, gripping Karina’s back tightly.

Karina responded by kissing your neck, her lips leaving possessive marks as a reminder of your connection. The room echoed with the sounds of your movements, each thrust from Karina purposeful and deep. Her grip on your hips was firm, guiding you to match her rhythm. “You’re mine, Y/N,” Karina groaned, her hands moving to your neck, adding to the intensity.

Her thrusts grew harder and more deliberate, each motion pushing deeper inside you. The sensation was intense, with every thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure building with each movement. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, your body on edge.

Karina’s hands left your neck and moved down to your clit, rubbing it quickly and skillfully. “That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Squeeze me with your tight cunt,” she moaned, her voice thick with desire. The pleasure was almost too much to bear. “God, Karina,” you cried out, letting the wave of your orgasm wash over you.

Your body tightened around her, your slit gripping her member so tightly that the pressure and sensation made it difficult for her to move, but the pleasure was undeniable. Karina’s breathing grew heavier as she neared her own climax. “God baby you’re so tight” She groaned out.

With a final, deep thrust, Karina’s orgasm hit, and she filled you completely, the sensation of her release made you shiver against her.

As the intensity of the moment faded, Karina’s breathing gradually slowed. She gently pulled away, her movements tender and careful. Her eyes, filled with a mix of satisfaction and affection, met yours.

Karina brushed a strand of hair away from your face, her touch soft and soothing. “You did so well,” she murmured, her voice warm and reassuring. She helped you adjust your position, ensuring you were comfortable and relaxed.

Gently, she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close in a comforting embrace. Her fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin, and she pressed a series of soft kisses to your forehead and cheek.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern as she checked in with you. Her eyes searched yours, wanting to make sure you felt good both physically and emotionally.

You nodded, feeling the warmth of her care and the afterglow of your shared experience. “Yeah, I’m okay,” you replied, your voice filled with gratitude.

Karina smiled and continued to hold you, her presence a calming reassurance. She fetched a warm cloth and gently cleaned you up, her touch gentle and attentive. As she worked, she stayed close, her touch and gaze conveying her affection and commitment to making sure you were well.

The room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing and Karina’s comforting presence.

Karina chuckled softly as she looked at you with a playful glint in her eye. “You’re gonna hate what I did to your neck,” she said, her tone light but mischievous.

You stared at her, puzzled, before slowly getting up to head to the bathroom. Your heart raced as you approached the mirror, curiosity mixed with a touch of apprehension.

When you finally looked in the mirror, you saw the marks Karina had left on your neck. The dark, hickeys were a clear reminder of the intensity of your time together. “Karina!” you exclaimed, your voice a mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Karina’s laughter was soft but warm, her eyes twinkling as she joined you in the bathroom. “I just wanted to make sure you remember who you belong to,” she said with a grin, her tone affectionate despite the teasing.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, despite the shock. “Well, mission accomplished,” you said, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll be wearing high collars for a while.”

Karina reached out and gently touched your arm, her expression softening. “I’m sorry if I went a bit overboard,” she said, her voice sincere. “I just got carried away.”

You smiled at her, feeling a deep sense of affection and connection. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I like it”

──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

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yeahihyperfixtate · 6 months ago

Note

Hi your writing is so cute, I saw you're taking reqs rn...

could I possibly have a neurodivergent (maybe specifically ADHD) reader x whatever characters you'd like (preferably all of them but your choice pook) thanks!!

♡ —sylus x adhd!reader

content : fluff, downbad sylus, mc!reader has adhd depicted from a specific perspective, sylus heavily fw adhd havers <3, (heavily written on my own personal perspective of adhd) maybe a pt.2

authors note : my first req <3, this is actually fantastic cause i've got adhd myself! im not too confident with the others yet, literally all my drafts rn are all sylus based (im ashamed to say im not familiar with zayne and xaviers character enough to write them,,, yet.)

please do not characterise adhd based on specifically these events, this is what i've personally experienced and found easy to write, (not everyone has the same experiences/behaviour!)

♡ — adhd!reader who repeats the same story to her current associate at least twice, blissfully unaware of the repetition, a common occurrence—she just can't help herself.. the result is always the same, her enthusiasm bubbling over—the familiar response comes like clockwork: “you told me this story yesterday, remember?” her words halt mid-sentence, her excitement deflating faster than it had filled her chest. “right, sorry, i forgot,” she mumbles, forcing a small, apologetic smile. they nod briefly before their attention flickers back to whatever was so captivating on their phone, leaving her silent, a sigh falling from her mouth instead of the words she wanted to share still lingering on her tongue, unspoken and heavy, even if it was a reoccurrence.

“sylus, you won't believe what happened to me today!” you exclaimed, bursting through the door with wide eyes and a glowing excitement that filled the room. “t-there was this cat—it meowed like a duck or something, it was so sooo adorable!” you squeaked, your voice pitching higher with enthusiasm. “but then i had to leave from break,” you sighed, pouting as you flopped dramatically onto the couch.

sylus glanced up from the news article he was reading, keyword—was. a sly smile crept onto his lips, usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. “oh, is that right, sweetie?" he teased, tilting his head with a mock-serious look. "you'll have to bring me along on your next mission so i can witness these mystical, duck-like cats for myself."

"deal," you grinned, your face lighting up as you giggled, completely unaware of how sylus's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a quiet admiration.. he'd play along every time, as many times as you needed, his heart melting just a little more with every recount. after all, he wasn't just listening to the story; he was basking in the warmth of your presence, content to play the part of your captivated audience forever.

♡ — adhd!reader who’s grown all too familiar with being ignored by others for most of her life, her excited tangents about a new interest for the day often trailing off into an uncomfortable silence, no response waiting at the end. she used to sit there, the realisation sinking in like a heavy stone—you’ve done it again, idiot—the naturally heard words blaring in her mind as if through a megaphone, shame and self-doubt rushing in like a wave. she’d turn back to her laptop, eyes lowered, the once-comforting cafe ambience now feeling like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it harder to turn back to the task she was supposed to be completing, right, the reports..

sylus, ever the gentleman, makes his way to your side with practised ease, opening the door for you, his hand already outstretched to steady you as you carefully step out, mindful of the hovering dress that threatens to catch under your heels. a soft giggle escapes your lips as you playfully speak, “thank you, kind sir,” your voice light with amusement.

smirking, his eyes sparkling in the dim evening light. “anything for you, my sweet,” he replies with a wink, pulling your hand gently onto his arm. you gladly wrap your arms around his bicep, feeling the warmth of his strength under your fingers as you walk together, leaving the valet behind. the fine dining restaurant ahead glows softly in the night, a place you had casually mentioned to him just two nights ago as a date idea.

“but the duality of this bitch,” you huffed, voice full of frustration. “to talk behind my back like i was in the wrong. like, seriously? you cheat on your boyfriend, and then get mad when i don’t want to be friends with you anymore? oh, and i forgot to tell you—my friend, well ex-friend knew about it, she was hiding it from us the whole time!”

your words spilled out in a rush, the weekly gossip pouring faster than you could control. it wasn’t until you hit a pause in your tangent that it hit you—fuck, i did it again. you looked up at him, bracing yourself, searching his face for any sign of annoyance, for that familiar look people often gave you when you rambled too much. but instead, you found his hand gently stroking your bejewelled one—his gifts, of course—while his crimson eyes stayed locked on yours, soft and full of affection. not a trace of irritation.

just as you were about to apologise for going on too long, he beat you to it, his voice calm and sweet, “you’d think the hunters of linkon would act better. i was sorely mistaken.�� his lips curled into a soft chuckle, eyes glinting playfully. “so… what did you say to her and your now ex-friend? you didn't finish.”

relief flooded through you. of course—he wanted to hear more. with his gentle smile urging you on, you dove back into the tale, feeling lighter, knowing you could share whatever you wanted to in this world with him without any thought whatsoever.

♡ — adhd!reader who accidentally interrupts her friends and family—she just can’t help it, really, she can’t. it’s the same scenario every time: friends are mid-conversation, talking about someone or something, and before she can stop herself, she’s chiming in too early, cutting them off without meaning to. they pause, giving that familiar look—half-surprised, half-apologetic or whatever it was. “ah, sorry,” she mutters, biting her lip to stay quiet. but it’s so hard. especially when they start talking about that café she just went to yesterday, mentioning the specific drink that was on sale—the very one you ordered. the words are right there, bubbling up in your chest, why was it so hard to keep quiet?

sylus strolls into the kitchen with a sly grin, “i’ve got a surprise for you tonight, kitten.” his arms wrap around you from behind as you focus on whipping up your favourite brownies—ones in the last batch that went mysteriously missing, thanks to the twins no doubt. you giggle, already used to this affectionate routine, as sylus leans in to inhale the scent of your perfume lingering on his shirt, one of his smaller ones that still manages to engulf you completely. “can I get a clue?” you ask, impressively keeping your attention on measuring the cocoa powder, despite his playful distraction.

“you’ll just have to wait and see sweetie,” sylus chuckles, shifting beside you but keeping an arm snugly around your waist, his warmth never leaving your side. “although i should probably tell you t—” sylus’s words were abruptly cut off by your excitement bursting through. “oooh, wait! is it that new cat café I was talking about a few days ago? the one that opens up at night?”

your excitement quickly deflated as you looked up at him, realizing you’d interrupted him—again. a familiar sinking feeling crept in, but before you could even apologise, you caught sylus’s expression. looking down at you, more love in his eyes than you ever thought possible, his smile soft and full of affection. “that’s actually what i’ve planned for us tomorrow, dear,” he smirked, leaning in closer, his face inches from yours. “but like i said, you’ll find out tonight. just make sure to wear that dress i got you.” your heart fluttered at his words, the warmth of his voice and the way he effortlessly brushed off your little interruption. you giggled softly, leaning into his touch as he gently squeezed your waist. “fine, but I’m holding you to that cat café date,” you teased, already imagining the sweet night ahead.

#lads x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace sylus x reader #lads sylus x reader #sylus x reader #lads #lads sylus #love and deepspace x reader

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nerdygirlramblings · 10 days ago

Text

Ren's adventures continue

a/n: the family pack is back!

"How's training going, honey? They're not pushing you too hard?" Mum asks.

Before you can answer, Mama cuts in. "Of course they're training her hard. This is an elite group of soldiers. Only the best of the best to serve Queen and country." She looks at you with a gleam in her eyes. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Dad rolls his eyes at their antics. It's clear they're all crammed into the nest where Dad's been since the doctor seconded your moms' idea for him to be on bed rest. Seeing them together, knowing Dad's due in a few weeks, it makes you miss them all so much more. Just as Mum and Mama start debating the merits of your service, again, Dad says, "You look good, sweetheart. Happy."

They see your unconscious smile. You haven't spoken to them much since you joined the task force, too tired most nights for anything more than a few texts, but you had a light day and wanted to check on how Dad was doing with the litter. Now you have a captive audience and weeks of stories to share.

You mention how well you fight hand-to-hand, joking how an old schoolyard bully "wouldn't be able to lay a finger on me now." To prove it, you send them a quick video Gaz took of you getting Ghost on his back a few days ago. "That's my Leftenant. He's an 18 stone alpha!" They watch the video, and you track their reactions: Mum's saucer-wide eyes, hand over her mouth; Dad wincing at the thwump of Ghost's back hitting the mat; Mama's nearly-manic grin.

You leave out how quickly he flipped you and got the upper hand.

The video is followed by pictures Soap took on the shooting range, several weapons artfully arrayed around targets with groupings so tight there are fist-sized holes in some. "They're training me on some of the sniper rifles, Mum, so I'd be watching their backs instead of breeching the building." You see the slightest drop of her shoulders as she exhales and know she'll hold tight to that kernel of hope for your safety.

You're most excited to tell them about the records you've set. "And Captain Price was the one who put my name forward. Kept me an' my secondary gender out of it entirely, jus' my call sign-"

"Your call sign?" Mum says. "What's that?"

"It's like a nickname. 'S what th' other soldiers call ya. Mostly based on the dumb shit-"

"Language, young lady," Mum says sharply.

"Sorry, Mum," you mumble, heat flaring along your neck at being scolded.

"Leave the girl be," Mama says. "She's an adult and can use whatever language she wants. Let her finish her story."

You smile gratefully and mouth thank you when Mum glances away towards some sound in the house. "So call signs are usually something you have to learn to deal with because it's a constant reminder of how you screwed up. But not always. An' the guys call me Ren because I'm good at lots of things."

"A modern Renaissance Man, er Woman, huh," Dad comments.

"That's what Captain Price said." You look at your dad and blurt out, "I think you'd like the Captain, Dad. He reminds me a lot of you and Mama."

"So about those records?" Mama asks, redirecting your focus again.

You glance at your parents then dart your gaze briefly down, bashful about bragging. "It seems I set a few base records on the shooting range and with my speed. An', like I said, they're up with my call sign, so no one really knows their mine, but that's not the point."

Dad takes the bait you don't realize you left. "Then what is the point, sweetheart?" he asks quietly.

There's no mistaking the pride in your voice and the joy in your eyes when you tell him, "They make me feel like I belong."

He smiles indulgently, and a loaded glance passes between your moms. The conversation continues a few more minutes, and you get the feeling your parents want to tell you something but don't. As you say your goodnights, you tell them you'll speak to Price about getting a few days of leave when the new litter comes. The call leaves you feeling both lighter and sadder, though you can't articulate the reasons for the second.

After the call to your parents, you start spending more time in the 141 barracks. The call home made you miss being part of something, and when you spend your down time with your team, the ache inside feels less raw, the hurt less sharp.

The easy camaraderie of the gym and mess becomes an uncomplicated cohabitation of video games and movies and parallel quiet time. One night you find yourself reading on one end of the couch in the barracks' rec room while Soap sketches. A tremor runs through you; the team keeps these rooms far colder than you're comfortable with, and you don't have an extra jumper today. Soap catches you rubbing your hands together and gets off the couch, heading to a small footlocker in the corner. You track his movements as he lifts the lid and pulls out a standard issue olive green jersey. He doesn't pull it on as you expect but drops it in your lap as he returns to his seat. "Nae point in bein' cold, Ren," he says with a smile.

You return the smile gratefully. "Thank you," you reply, pulling the jersey overhead. As you sink into its warmth, you take a deep inhale, breathing in the scent of sunshine and fresh cotton. You appreciate the smell of clean laundry. It's far more pleasant than the mothballs you were expecting.

You glance at Soap, surprised to see unbridled joy on his face. "Everything okay?"

He nods quickly. "Yeah, Ren. I'm aces."

You continue sitting in shared silence until the others come in from whatever they were doing. All three men pull up short at the sight of you and Soap on the couch. Looking between them, you worry you did something wrong despite having spent the last few nights with them until heading to bed in your barracks. "Er, what's wrong?"

Price quickly shakes his head as if clearing out cobwebs. "Nothin's wrong, Ren. Just a little surprised is all. Didn't think you-"

"The lass was cold, Cap'n," Soap blurted suddenly. "Figured if the jersey wasnae 'nuf tae warm 'er, Ah'd show 'er where the blankets are."

Price nods absently. "Right. The blankets." He takes one more long look at you, gaze assessing. "Well, glad you aren't cold, then."

The solitude you and Soap shared sits uneasily now with the others around. Something's shifted. You can smell it, like a bite of cold air preceding a storm. You try brushing off the unease, but you can't ignore it. It becomes nearly oppressive by the time you head to your barracks, waving goodnight to the team.

Once the door shuts behind you, Price gapes at Soap. "What were you thinking, giving her Gaz's jersey without telling her?" His tone is angry, but it's betrayed by the concern in his eyes as he looks at the beta.

"She was cold," Soap says simply.

"Yeah, but, one of my jerseys when you could have grabbed the blanket?" Gaz wasn't angry about you walking out with the jersey. He seemed nervous.

Price points at Gaz. "Yes, that!" He runs a hand down his face. "Giving Ren Gaz's jersey when we haven't broached courting 'er could backfire spectacularly."

"Ye were nae here, Cap. Took a big 'ole lungful a' 'is scent and held it. Wouldn't be surprised is she wears it tomorrow night." He looked from Price to Gaz and finally to Ghost, who met his pleading look with a hard reproach.

"It was a bold move, pup. Don't do it again without us all talking first." He voices everyone's shared desire. "We want 'er as pack, as ours. But she's smart, and she's wary, even of us when it comes to being our omega."

Price picks up the thought and says, "If we want this, and want to do it right, we need a plan."

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevale @boogeysmoth

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #simon riley #nerdygirl says

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gothwineaunts · 11 months ago

Text

I tried my best to replicate the post that Tumblr ate earlier.

It’s not as good but you'll get the jist I think. :’)

---

Hi again! I wanted to follow up on my post from yesterday. I’ve been mostly offline since then, and I feel much better now, especially after seeing the thoughtful responses y’all left. Where did you all even come from!? I don’t think I’ve ever posted this account anywhere, haha. But thank you so much. I’m horrendous at taking a damn compliment but I read all the replies and reblogs and I’m just incredibly humbled. You all brought up my mood a lot and highkey made me feel sane again. I’ve been so confused at why everyone in the WEBTOON comments seems to be so mad all the time, it kind of does my head in if I’m being honest.

But please don’t worry about me or Flynn. Or about Nevermore! We’d never change the story to fit what we think the commenters want us to do, for a lot of reasons. The most important of which is. If we had to do that, I think we’d rather just stop making it. What they seem to want is a story we’re not really interested in telling.

Wholesome wlw is a wildly important thing to be able to find if you’re looking for it. That really cannot be overstated. Until very recently, queer characters have been subjected by popular media to a disproportionate amount of anguish and violence. So the concept of seeing two women just, living a safe and fulfilling life together? I get why people want to see that so badly. And there’s so much beautifully written aspirational content for queer audiences out there now, and I’m pleased to death over it. But the thing is, it’s just not what we’re making.

Nevermore was always intended to be a dark gothicky romance with horror elements. Like Wuthering Heights, or Phantom of the Opera. Because those were the stories that always inspired us when we were young. Bloodsoaked stories of melodrama, intrigue, grief, and passion. Those stories would captivate me and get me asking all kinds of questions. Why can’t the Phantom be a beautiful woman? Why does Christine have the agency of a desk lamp? Why can’t sapphics have something cool like this?

So we decided to make it. Nevermore is not a wholesome romance. It doesn’t try to be. The point was never to explore sapphics having a healthy and (heavy air quotes here) “normal” relationship, like heterosexual couples get to have in real life. We already have that, together, Flynn and I. We live it, everyday. In Nevermore, what we wanted most was to explore a sweeping sapphic romance full of danger, like heterosexual couples get to have in fiction. That’s why we love those kinds of stories so much, because of how divorced they are from the mundanity of real life. They’re fantasies.

I know that I'm preaching to the choir, aha.

But my point is: if you go to a hardware store to order a cake, you’re probably going to be disappointed. If what you crave is aspirational wlw content, there are so many bakeries you can go to that will give you exactly what you’re hoping for, and more. I especially recommend Muted by Miranda Mundt. It’s also on Webtoon, it’s completed, and it’s free to read.

And please know that I’m not saying to stop reading Nevermore, just maybe to adjust your expectations a little bit. We don’t sell cakes here, but I am pretty sure I've got a few 12ft tall skeleton lawn ornaments in the back if you're interested.

#red post

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luvvictoria · 2 months ago

Text

Swan Lake

+ pairings. simon ghost riley x f!reader

+ tags. romance, ballet dancer reader, Ghost being a fan of reader, gore

+ a/n. Reblog with your favourite line ! It would help me very much to grow my account !! Thank you in advance!!

The grandeur of the theater wrapped around you like a velvet embrace, the kind that made the air feel thick with possibility. Each flicker of the chandelier’s crystal facets sent ripples of light cascading over the velvet seats, a sea of captivated faces staring up at you. There was magic here tonight, an ethereal energy that seemed to hover between the stage and the audience, binding you all in the spell of the story.

Playing Odette had always been your dream, the role of a lifetime etched into your heart since you first tied the ribbons of your pointe shoes as a child. Tonight, under the glow of the stage lights, you became her — not just a dancer, but a swan, gliding through the sorrow and longing of Act 2. Every delicate pirouette, every trembling flutter of your arms, was a plea, a prayer. Your movements spoke a language older than words, older than the stage itself, as if you were baring your very soul to the world.

The haunting strains of Tchaikovsky’s score swelled around you, the orchestra’s melody wrapping around your every motion like a second skin. The stage felt boundless, infinite, as you moved across it with grace you had honed through years of sweat, pain, and sacrifice. You lost yourself in the music, in the story, in the tragedy of Odette’s plight.

As the music reached its crescendo, you launched into the climax of your solo, a series of daring leaps and turns that left your heart pounding and your feet barely skimming the stage. Your white tutu fluttered like the wings of a swan caught mid-flight, a fragile creature on the edge of freedom — or ruin. The audience held their breath, caught in the delicate balance of your performance. The silence was electric, charged with awe.

Then—

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The sound shattered the air like thunder, tearing through the fragile beauty of the moment. Your body froze mid-motion, your arms trembling as your heart lurched in your chest. The music halted with a screech of discordant strings, and the silence that followed was deafening.

The sound ricocheted through the theater like a hammer against glass, shattering the delicate hush that had cocooned your performance. For a brief moment, you thought it might be part of the production, some dramatic effect that had gone wrong. But then came the screams, high and sharp, ripping through the enchanted air and drowning the music in chaos.

You stumbled, the stage’s polished wood slick beneath your pointe shoes. The world around you tilted, blurred. You barely registered the heat of something wet spattering across your face and arms. It wasn’t until you looked down at your pristine white tutu that you saw the crimson streaks, the way they bloomed across the fabric like grotesque flowers. Blood. Not yours. Someone’s. The realization hit you like a blow to the chest.

You didn’t know where it had come from or who had fallen victim. The orchestra pit was a mess of overturned music stands and scrambling bodies. The audience — so silent and rapt only moments ago — had devolved into chaos, people shoving past one another, trampling seats, and screaming as they ran for the exits.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you stumbled to your feet, panic gripping your throat like a vice. You backed away from the stage’s edge, toward the shadows of the wings, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. A man collapsed just beyond the first row of seats, his chest slick with red, his hands clutching at the gaping wound in his abdomen. His eyes locked with yours for a brief, haunting second before they dimmed. Dead. He was dead.

You turned and ran, the stage lights dimming behind you as you dove into the cluttered backstage area. The air was thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder and the coppery tang of blood. You huddled behind a stack of prop crates, curling into yourself as you tried to steady your breathing. Your trembling hands pressed against your mouth to muffle the sobs threatening to break free.

The theater was quieter now, but not silent. Footsteps echoed in the distance — slow, deliberate, heavy boots against wood. They grew closer, each step reverberating in your skull like the toll of a bell.

Then they stopped.

You barely had time to react before a gloved hand shot into your hiding place, tangling in your hair and yanking you upward. A cry escaped your lips as you clawed at the hand, your nails scraping uselessly against the black fabric. Your eyes widened as you came face-to-face with him.

The mask was the first thing you noticed — a stark, grinning skull that gleamed under the dim backstage lights. His eyes, dark and cold, stared out from the sockets, devoid of pity but filled with something far more unnerving: fascination. He towered over you, his presence oppressive, like a shadow come to life.

“Poor swan…” His voice was low, rough like gravel dragged over concrete. Despite the menace in his tone, there was an undercurrent of something softer, something almost gentle. “Will you dance for me so I can understand how dear your life is to you?”

You opened your mouth to plead, to scream, to say anything, but no words came. Your voice was trapped, swallowed by the terror that consumed you.

He didn’t wait for an answer. His grip shifted from your hair to your wrist, his fingers like a vice around your delicate bones. He dragged you toward the stage, your feet barely keeping up, your pointe shoes scuffing against the floor. You stumbled, but he didn’t falter, his strength unyielding as he pulled you into the light.

The stage was a nightmare. Blood stained the polished wood, pooling in sticky puddles where bodies had fallen. The seats were empty now, save for a few lifeless forms slumped in grotesque stillness. The chandeliers still sparkled, casting their cold, indifferent light over the carnage.

He released you in the center of the stage, stepping back into the shadows of the wings. His presence loomed, even from the darkness, his skull mask gleaming faintly.

“Dance,” he commanded, his voice echoing in the hollow silence.

Your legs felt like lead, your body trembling as tears streamed down your face. The music was gone, but in your mind, you clung desperately to the memory of Act 2. You rose shakily to your toes, your movements stiff and mechanical at first. Then, instinct took over. Muscle memory guided you where your mind faltered, each arabesque and jeté a desperate plea for mercy.

As you danced, you became aware of his gaze, unrelenting and intense. He stood with his arms crossed, his head tilted slightly, as though studying a masterpiece. There was no mockery in his stance, no overt menace. Just a quiet, unnerving intensity.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, almost to himself. The words barely reached you, but they cut through the fog of fear. “Flawless.”

You faltered, nearly collapsing as the compliment struck you like a slap. His voice was softer now, almost reverent. “Even in fear, you’re perfect.”

Your movements slowed, your body trembling with exhaustion and terror. Finally, you finished with a weak, trembling curtsy, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. Silence enveloped the theater once more.

He stepped closer, emerging from the shadows. His towering frame was imposing but no longer felt as threatening. His eyes, partially obscured by the mask, softened in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve watched you before,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Every performance. You dance like it’s your soul laid bare. It’s…” He hesitated, as if searching for the right word. “Moving.”

The revelation stunned you. This man, this figure who had disrupted your world, was a fan?

He reached into his pocket, and your body tensed, expecting the worst. But instead of a weapon, he retrieved a folded piece of paper. He crouched and placed it gently on the bloodstained stage at your feet.

“Keep dancing, Swan,” he said, his voice tinged with something almost like sadness. “For me.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.

You stood there, trembling and unsure, before finally bending down to pick up the note. Your bloodstained fingers unfolded the paper, revealing three words written in neat, hurried handwriting:

Never stop flying.

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satellite-evans · 3 months ago

Text

The Artist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader

Summary: sometimes, an artist is far more interesting than the art itself.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: fluff, angst? Anthony not being able to mind his own business, briefly mention of parents passing away

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

Lady Danbury’s soirées were the heart of the social season—part chessboard, part battlefield, where every glance and whisper held strategic importance. Benedict Bridgerton, however, approached such gatherings as an observer rather than a player. He found the art on the walls more captivating than the posturing of the ton.

Wandering through Lady Danbury’s grand halls, Benedict stopped before a painting of a turbulent sea, his thoughts briefly drifting to his own half-finished sketches. A voice interrupted him, sharp and vibrant.

“It’s ambitious, but overworked. The sea churns, but the emotion feels... manufactured.”

He turned to see her: a young woman standing a few steps away, her posture poised yet unguarded. She wore her beauty with an effortless confidence, her eyes a vivid storm of intellect and intrigue. She wasn’t like the other women at the ball, fluttering fans and batting lashes. She observed the world with precision, as though she’d already decided it was hers to command.

“An intriguing critique,” Benedict replied, his interest piqued. “Though perhaps the chaos was intentional. Sometimes life demands a lack of restraint.”

Her gaze flicked to him, assessing. “Chaos is compelling, but it must be tempered with truth. This, Mr. Bridgerton, is a performance.”

“You know my name,” he noted, smiling. “You have the advantage over me, Miss...?”

“Y/N,” she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “And I find that knowing one’s audience is the first rule of any conversation.”

He inclined his head. “A lesson I’ll remember. Tell me, Miss Y/N, are you always this direct?”

Her lips curved into a subtle smile, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she turned back to the painting. “Do you sketch? You look at this piece as though you’re searching for something beyond the surface.”

Benedict blinked, surprised by her insight. “I do, though I’ve yet to create anything worth showing. You?”

“I paint,” she admitted, her voice softening. “But my work isn’t for the ton’s galleries. Some things are too personal to display.”

“Now you’ve made me curious,” he said, stepping closer. “What would it take to see one of your pieces?”

She tilted her head, her gaze teasing. “Persistence. But I should warn you—I am not easily impressed.”

Benedict smiled, already intrigued by the challenge. “Good. I prefer earning my victories.”

Before she could respond, Lady Danbury’s voice carried through the hall. “Ah, Benedict, I see you’ve met Miss Y/N. And what do you think of her opinions? Sharp as a rapier, aren’t they?”

Benedict glanced at Y/N, his expression warm. “Quite sharp, indeed. But rapier wit is vastly preferable to dull pleasantries.”

Lady Danbury chuckled. “I agree. Well, don’t let me interrupt. Though, Y/N, your brother Charles is looking for you. Something about the carriage.”

At the mention of her brother, Y/N’s composure shifted slightly. “Thank you, Lady Danbury. I’ll find him shortly.”

As Lady Danbury swept away, Benedict offered Y/N a small bow. “Will you grant me the honor of a dance before you leave?”

“Perhaps,” she replied, her eyes glinting with amusement. “If you’re persistent enough.”

Before Benedict could craft a suitably clever reply, a deep voice broke through the moment. “Y/N, it’s getting late.”

Both turned to see a tall man striding toward them, his posture commanding yet measured. He was dressed impeccably, the weight of responsibility apparent in his expression. His resemblance to Y/N—sharp features and the same striking eyes—was unmistakable.

Charles stopped beside them and inclined his head politely toward Benedict before addressing his sister. “The hour grows late, and I believe Lady Danbury is beginning to hint that the soirée is winding down.”

Y/N offered her brother a cool yet affectionate look. “You always did have an impeccable sense of timing, Charles.”

Benedict, recovering quickly, stepped forward with a polite bow. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. Benedict Bridgerton.”

Charles’s gaze sharpened slightly at the name before he returned the bow with measured precision. “Charles Y/L/N, Earl of Whitestone.”

Benedict’s eyebrows lifted in recognition, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Whitestone? I believe my brother, Anthony, has spoken of you. He mentioned you were recently elevated to the title.”

Charles gave a brief nod, his tone guarded but civil. “Anthony and I have known each other for some years. He’s a good man, and an excellent Viscount.”

“As I’m certain you’re an excellent Earl,” Benedict replied smoothly, sensing the protective edge to Charles’s demeanor.

The corner of Charles’s mouth twitched upward, though he remained composed. “I do what I can, though the title comes with its share of burdens. And you, Mr. Bridgerton, seem to have a knack for engaging my sister in conversation.”

Benedict chuckled lightly, inclining his head toward Y/N. “Your sister is an extraordinary conversationalist, my lord. I find myself quite fortunate to have made her acquaintance tonight.”

Charles’s gaze flicked to Y/N, who appeared unruffled by the exchange but wore a faint smile of amusement. “Fortunate, indeed,” Charles said evenly. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, I believe it’s time to depart. Y/N?”

Y/N turned back to Benedict, her expression unreadable but her tone cordial. “Thank you for the discussion, Mr. Bridgerton. Perhaps we’ll meet again, should the occasion allow.”

Benedict bowed, his tone warm. “I certainly hope so, Miss Y/N.”

As Charles and Y/N walked toward their waiting carriage, Benedict watched them leave, his thoughts lingering on the sharp wit and quiet allure of Y/N.

Charles, walking slightly ahead of his sister, cast a glance back toward Benedict, then murmured to her, “He seems taken with you.”

Y/N’s lips curved faintly as she replied, “Let him be. I’m hardly an easy conquest.”

Charles smirked faintly, his tone fond but serious. “Good. Just remember, Y/N, you’re worth far more than simple flattery and fleeting interest.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze forward but her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

The clatter of carriage wheels echoed faintly as Charles and Y/N made their way back to their townhouse. The dim glow of gas lamps illuminated the streets, casting fleeting shadows across Charles’s pensive expression.

“You like him,” Charles remarked, breaking the companionable silence. His voice was even, but his words were laced with a quiet observation.

Y/N glanced at her brother, her expression unreadable. “He’s intriguing. Sharp-witted. But liking someone, Charles, is a luxury I can ill afford.”

Charles leaned back in his seat, watching her carefully. “Luxury or not, you seemed more yourself tonight than I’ve seen in months. There’s no harm in entertaining the idea—provided you remain cautious.”

Y/N’s gaze softened at her brother’s concern. “I appreciate your vigilance, my dear Earl of Whitestone. But let’s not rush to paint him as either hero or villain. Men of his world are not often held to the same scrutiny as women of ours.”

“True,” Charles admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But Anthony Bridgerton isn’t one to speak highly of a man without reason. If his brother is half as principled, I’d consider him worth the risk.”

Y/N’s lips twitched at his words. “Risk, indeed. But enough about Mr. Bridgerton. We’ve our own affairs to manage, and I’m certain our tenants won’t care for my musings about art or charm.”

Charles nodded, though he noted the faint pink flush that crept up her neck as she turned toward the window.

As the Whitestone carriage disappeared into the darkness, Benedict stood at the edge of the Danbury estate, his gaze lingering on the path where Y/N had vanished. The warmth of the evening had cooled, but he hardly noticed the chill. His mind replayed their conversation—the sharp wit in her words, the spark in her eyes when she spoke of art, and the measured grace with which she had danced around his charm.

“Y/N,” he murmured softly, as if testing the sound of her name. It felt as striking as the woman herself, an enigma he couldn’t easily solve.

Lady Danbury’s sharp voice startled him from his reverie. “Well, Mr. Bridgerton, if you plan to stand out there all night, you might as well help me escort the remaining stragglers to their carriages.”

Benedict turned, an easy smile masking his contemplative mood. “I was merely enjoying the view, Lady Danbury. Your soiree is, as always, a triumph.”

Her keen eyes narrowed with amusement. “And yet your gaze was fixed on the road, not my ballroom. That young lady certainly left an impression.”

Benedict didn’t deny it. “She’s remarkable,” he admitted, more to himself than to Lady Danbury.

“Be careful with that one,” the older woman warned, though her tone was fond. “She has depth. And depth demands substance in return.”

Benedict inclined his head, her words sinking in. As much as he relished the challenge, he realized he wanted more than a fleeting encounter.

The ride home was a quiet one. Benedict sat in the carriage, the sounds of horses’ hooves a steady rhythm that gave his thoughts space to wander.

He’d encountered many women in his time—clever debutantes, bold widows, and those who wore charm like armor. But Y/N was different. There was a quiet power in her deflections, a vulnerability hidden behind her sharp observations.

His mind lingered on her smile, fleeting yet warm, and the way her brother, Charles, had watched over her like a hawk. Benedict respected that protectiveness—it spoke of loyalty, of family bonds he deeply valued.

When he finally reached the familiar halls of his family home, the house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of old wood and the soft rustle of wind through the trees outside. He retired to his room, but sleep eluded him.

Instead, he sketched—rough outlines of Y/N’s features, her poised stance, the energy in her eyes as she critiqued the painting at Lady Danbury’s. Each stroke of charcoal carried with it an urgency, an attempt to capture the essence of someone who refused to be defined.

By the time dawn’s light began to filter through his window, Benedict set the sketch aside, his resolve clear.

“I’ll see her again,” he murmured, more determined than he’d been in years.

The following morning, the Bridgerton family gathered around the long dining table, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Despite the sumptuous spread of fruit, fresh-baked pastries, and piping hot tea, all eyes were on Benedict.

“Who was she?” Eloise asked bluntly, buttering her toast with unnecessary vigor. “Lady Whistledown was positively tantalized.”

Benedict sighed, taking a deliberate sip of tea. “Good morning to you too, Eloise.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Daphne chimed in with a knowing smile. “It’s not every day Lady Whistledown dedicates an entire paragraph to your exploits.”

Anthony leaned back in his chair, an eyebrow raised. “Y/N Y/L/N, wasn’t it? I believe her brother, Charles, is the new Earl of Whitestone. Solid reputation, though he keeps to himself since inheriting the title.”

Benedict nodded, setting down his cup. “The very same. I had the pleasure of speaking with her—she’s sharp, insightful, and refreshingly candid.”

“And beautiful?” Colin teased, his grin wide.

“Extremely,” Benedict replied without hesitation, earning a round of laughter.

Anthony’s amusement faded slightly as he regarded his brother with a calculating look. “Charles is an old acquaintance of mine. We crossed paths during the early years of our titles. A good man, but fiercely protective of his family. Tread carefully, Benedict.”

“Always,” Benedict said, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of determination.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the grass of Whitestone’s modest garden, a sketchpad balanced on her lap. The cool breeze carried with it the faint scent of lavender from the nearby hedgerows, mingling with the crisp aroma of her graphite pencils. The gardens were her sanctuary—a reprieve from society’s endless noise and expectations. Today, her focus was on a half-finished drawing of a willow tree bending gracefully over the garden pond. Yet, as much as she tried to focus, her thoughts drifted back to Benedict Bridgerton.

She had replayed their exchanges from Lady Danbury’s soiree countless times in her mind. His words had been genuine, his curiosity sincere. Yet it was his gaze that lingered in her memory—the way his eyes softened when he listened to her critiques of the art, as though he truly saw her and not just another face in the crowd. Y/N frowned slightly, annoyed at her own vulnerability. He’s intriguing, certainly, but so are countless men who wander into my path. Why should this one matter more?

Her pencil faltered as the sharp rap of a knock echoed from the front of the house. She stilled, curiosity piqued. Guests were rare at Whitestone, and Charles had already mentioned he expected no visitors today. She heard the muffled creak of the door opening and the low rumble of her brother’s voice, but the words were indistinct. Setting her sketchpad aside, Y/N rose and dusted her hands off on her skirts, wandering closer to the house with light steps.

Inside the parlor, Charles extended a firm handshake to Anthony Bridgerton. The Earl of Whitestone and the Viscount Bridgerton cut striking figures in the modest room, both exuding a commanding presence, though Anthony’s was tempered by a composed air of diplomacy.

“Viscount Bridgerton,” Charles greeted, stepping back to motion him inside. “This is an unexpected visit.”

“I thought it past time we caught up,” Anthony replied with a faint smile, his eyes sweeping the room briefly before settling back on Charles. “Though I must confess, my errand isn’t entirely social.”

Charles raised an eyebrow as he led Anthony toward the parlor’s armchairs. “I assume this has something to do with your family’s estates bordering mine?”

“In part.” Anthony seated himself with practiced ease, but there was a guardedness to his tone that Charles didn’t miss. “The other part involves my brother, Benedict.”

Charles stilled briefly, his expression giving nothing away. “Ah, your brother,” he said smoothly, taking his own seat. “I must admit, he did make an impression at Lady Danbury’s soiree.”

Anthony’s lips quirked in a wry smile. “So I’ve heard. I trust my brother behaved himself?”

Charles smirked faintly, folding his hands over his knee. “Mr. Bridgerton was... eager to engage my sister in conversation. Though I’m not sure she was as willing to reciprocate.”

Anthony chuckled, but his tone shifted, his words laced with sincerity. “Benedict speaks highly of your sister. It’s rare for him to show such genuine interest, Charles. He’s not one to court frivolities.”

Charles leaned back, his gaze sharpening. “You understand, Anthony, that Y/N has had her fair share of shallow suitors. She’s cautious, and rightly so. My priority is ensuring her happiness and protecting her from anyone who sees her as a fleeting amusement.”

“Benedict doesn’t play such games,” Anthony replied, meeting Charles’s gaze head-on. “In truth, I’ve never seen him take such an interest in anyone. Your sister seems to have stirred something in him—though, knowing Y/N from your stories, I suspect she hasn’t made it easy for him.”

Charles allowed himself a faint chuckle. “No, she certainly hasn’t. Y/N is not one to be charmed easily. But it’s clear your brother is determined, which could either work in his favor or cause him considerable frustration.”

Anthony inclined his head, his expression softening. “Benedict values substance, as I’m sure Y/N does. They may both surprise you.”

Charles studied him in silence for a moment before offering a measured nod. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll judge him by his actions, not his words.”

Y/N lingered just beyond the doorway, her heart racing at the snippets of conversation she managed to overhear. Charles’s voice, steady and firm, carried faintly through the air. He’s defending me, she realized, a pang of gratitude swelling in her chest. Her brother’s protectiveness had always been her shield against the pressures of society. Yet, there was another voice—smooth and commanding.

The Viscount Bridgerton.

She had never met Anthony before, but his reputation preceded him. To hear him speak so highly of his brother was... surprising. Benedict’s charm had seemed effortless, but perhaps it ran deeper than she had assumed.

Careful not to draw attention, Y/N eased closer to the edge of the doorway, curiosity getting the better of her.

Anthony’s final remark, “They may both surprise you,” was met with a soft clearing of a throat. Both men turned to see Y/N stepping into the room, her expression poised but her gaze quietly assessing.

“Forgive me for interrupting,” she said with a faint smile, addressing Anthony. “You must be Viscount Bridgerton. I apologize for not greeting you sooner.”

Anthony rose immediately, his movements fluid and respectful. “Miss Y/N,” he greeted, his tone warm. “The pleasure is mine. I was just remarking to your brother on your keen sense of discernment. It seems Benedict wasn’t exaggerating.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her smile deepening. “He spoke of me?”

Anthony’s smile mirrored hers, though he chose his words carefully. “Indeed. Rarely have I seen my brother so animated in recounting a conversation.”

Her gaze flicked briefly to Charles, whose stern expression had softened, before settling back on Anthony. “That’s high praise coming from you, my lord,” she said lightly, though her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Perhaps I should be flattered—or cautious.”

Anthony chuckled, gesturing toward the chair opposite. “Flattery or caution—either is warranted. But if I may, Miss Y/N, Benedict is many things, but insincere is not one of them.”

Y/N seated herself gracefully, her expression thoughtful. “Then it would seem your brother and I have much in common,” she replied smoothly, though her mind raced. What exactly has Benedict told him?

As Anthony and Y/N exchanged polite conversation, Charles observed his sister closely. Her tone was cordial, her posture poised, but he knew her well enough to detect the subtle sharpness in her gaze—a warning to anyone attempting to pry too deeply. She wasn’t rattled by Anthony’s words, but she was undoubtedly calculating her next move.

Anthony, for his part, seemed at ease. His diplomacy was well-honed, his remarks layered with subtle reassurances. Yet Charles couldn’t help but feel the quiet tension in the room. Anthony was here not simply to visit a friend, but to ensure Benedict’s intentions were made clear—or perhaps to defend them.

“I find it intriguing,” Y/N said, interrupting Charles’s thoughts, “that you’ve taken the trouble to visit us, my lord, when your brother has already made his interest known. Surely, you trust his judgment?”

Anthony’s brow arched slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I do, Miss Y/N, though it would be remiss of me not to learn more about the woman who has managed to hold my brother’s attention.”

“And have you drawn your conclusions already?” she asked, tilting her head.

Anthony leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady but not intrusive. “Not entirely. But I do know this: my brother is a man of passions—art, creation, and the search for something meaningful. He finds those qualities rare. I suspect he believes he’s found them in you.”

Y/N’s composure didn’t falter, though her chest tightened slightly at his words. Her response was deliberate, each word measured. “An interesting theory, my lord. I wonder what he might say if he were here to speak for himself.”

As the conversation unfolded at Whitestone, Benedict Bridgerton was oblivious to his brother’s bold intervention. He sat alone in the Bridgerton family’s drawing room, a half-finished sketch resting on the desk before him. It was an abstract piece—a hazy rendition of the way the light had played across Y/N’s face as she’d described the painting at Lady Danbury’s soiree.

Frustrated, he set the pencil down and ran a hand through his hair. He hadn’t seen her since the garden farewell days ago, and the memory of her enigmatic smile lingered like a half-finished melody. Every word she had spoken felt deliberate, each glance calculated. Yet, for all her guardedness, he had glimpsed something more—an intensity that matched his own.

He leaned back in his chair, staring at the sketch with a mix of irritation and admiration. What is it about her that has me so utterly undone?

The door creaked open, and Colin poked his head inside, his ever-mischievous grin firmly in place. “Still brooding over Lady Y/N?”

Benedict scowled, though there was no real malice behind it. “I’m not brooding.”

Colin stepped inside, uninvited, and plucked the sketch off the desk. “Is that so? Because this,” he said, waving the paper, “tells a rather different story. Don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over one of Anthony’s sermons.”

Benedict frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Colin flopped onto the settee, clearly enjoying himself. “Anthony’s gone to Whitestone, hasn’t he? To visit Y/N and her brother. He practically ordered Newton to saddle the horse this morning.”

Benedict shot to his feet, his voice incredulous. “Anthony went to Whitestone?”

Colin’s smile widened. “Oh, yes. Didn’t he tell you? I’d wager he’s there now, making some long-winded speech about Bridgerton honor and the seriousness of your intentions.”

Benedict’s fists clenched, though it was more out of frustration than anger. “Of course he would meddle,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I don’t need him playing matchmaker.”

“Perhaps not,” Colin replied, his tone light. “But I suspect you’ll thank him in the end. Anthony may be insufferable, but he has a way of clearing obstacles—even those you’re too stubborn to see.”

Benedict ignored him, walking around in the room furiously waiting for his brother to come home. He did not need Anthony meddling with his business when even he didn't have the chance to visit you or buy you flowers. He prayed that his brother didn't scare or intimidate Y/N in any shape or form.

Back at Whitestone, Y/N’s mind churned as Anthony’s words settled. The sincerity behind them was disarming, but it also raised questions she wasn’t ready to answer.

She glanced at Charles, who was watching the exchange with his usual stoicism. Her brother was protective, and she valued his judgment, but she also resented feeling like a piece on a chessboard. Why should my life’s direction hinge on the machinations of two Bridgertons?

Y/N straightened, her voice breaking the charged silence. “You speak highly of your brother, my lord. But I can’t help but wonder if his interest is shared equally by the rest of your family. Surely a marriage, that you keep mentioning I might add, between a Bridgerton and an earl’s sister comes with certain expectations.”

Anthony’s expression didn’t falter, though his gaze turned contemplative. “You’re right, Miss Y/N. Family expectations can be... formidable. But we Bridgertons tend to weigh them against the matters of the heart. My brother is pursuing you not for duty, but for something far greater. That is why I came—to assure you that his pursuit is no fleeting fancy.”

Her breath caught for the briefest moment before she composed herself. “And yet you speak for him instead of letting him speak for himself. Tell me, viscount Bridgerton, is it a tradition of your family that the elder brother visit first before the man himself came here to court me or are you just more excited than Benedict?"

Anthony’s smile turned faintly amused. “Perhaps. But as the head of the family, it is not a tradition, but my duty to do so."

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows through the Bridgerton drawing room, where Violet sipped her tea, listening to Eloise debate some pamphlet on societal reform. Colin, seated nearby, was making a show of writing letters while sneakily trying to eavesdrop.

Suddenly, the front door opened with a sharp creak, followed by the heavy sound of deliberate footfalls. The atmosphere in the house shifted.

“Anthony,” Violet remarked, looking up from her teacup as her eldest son entered. His expression was stony, his movements clipped.

“Anthony, you look—”

Anthony!" Benedict’s voice roared through the house, heavy with fury.

"Benedict," Anthony greeted cautiously, straightening. "What’s the meaning of this outburst?"

"The meaning?" Benedict spat, his voice echoing through the room. "You went to the Whitestone estate without even telling me. You had no right!"

Violet, startled by the commotion, stood. "What’s going on here?"

"Ask your eldest son," Benedict said bitterly. "Apparently, he’s taken it upon himself to play matchmaker or, worse, guardian of my personal affairs."

Anthony’s jaw tightened, though he remained outwardly calm. "Benedict, I was only acting in your best—"

"No!" Benedict interrupted, his voice rising. "You were acting in your best interest, Anthony. Or, at the very least, what you think is best. You didn’t consult me, didn’t even think to ask what I wanted!"

By now, the household was gathering in the hallway, drawn by the shouting. Eloise whispered to Colin, "This is far better than the last novel I read."

Anthony’s patience began to fray as he stood taller, his tone hardening. "I went because I thought you might care for her, Benedict! And if you do, it’s only natural to ensure the family is suitable."

"How dare you presume to know what I care for!" Benedict snapped. "And what of her? Did you think she’d appreciate you barging in, uninvited, to assess her worth like livestock? I don’t even know if I care for her, but now I may never have the chance to decide for myself because of you!"

Anthony’s face fell briefly into guilt before he rallied. "I wasn’t trying to ruin anything. I was trying to protect you—"

"Protect me from what, Anthony? From a young woman with a talent for art and a brother navigating his new title? Or perhaps from the whispers you always seem so terrified of?"

"You don’t understand," Anthony said sharply. "These things matter. Reputation matters. If you pursue her—"

"Stop!" Benedict’s voice was loud enough to make the rest of the family wince. "You don’t get to make this about reputation or family honor. You didn’t even think to come to me first, and for that alone, you’ve overstepped!"

Violet interjected, her voice firm. "Both of you, enough. This shouting is unbecoming."

"Unbecoming?" Benedict scoffed, his anger undiminished. "What’s truly unbecoming is my brother meddling in affairs that are none of his business!"

Anthony took a deep breath, his voice dropping but still heated. "I went because I thought it was for the best, Benedict. If I was wrong, then I apologize. But don’t act as if I’ve committed some great crime for trying to protect my family."

Benedict shook his head, his jaw tightening. "If you wanted to protect me, Anthony, you should have come to me first. You should have trusted me to handle my own life."

Without waiting for a response, Benedict turned and stormed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming behind him reverberating through the house.

Benedict rode hard, the crisp autumn air stinging his face as he left Mayfair behind. The rhythmic pounding of his horse's hooves against the packed dirt offered little solace, the anger from his fight with Anthony still churning in his chest. The thought of his brother making decisions about his life—his relationships—without so much as a conversation left him fuming.

The horse slowed as they approached Hyde Park. Benedict hadn’t meant to end up here, but the vastness of the greenery and the relative quiet of the park seemed preferable to the confinement of Bridgerton House. He dismounted near a cluster of trees, tying his horse to a low branch.

Wandering through the park, Benedict eventually spotted a familiar figure seated beneath a sprawling oak tree. Y/N sat cross-legged on the grass, a sketchbook balanced on her knee, her brow furrowed in concentration as her hand moved deftly across the page. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice his approach.

For a moment, Benedict simply observed her. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns on her face. There was a peacefulness about her that pulled at something deep within him, a stark contrast to the chaos of the morning.

He cleared his throat softly.

Y/N jumped, her pencil jerking across the page. Her head snapped up, her eyes wide before recognition dawned. “Mr. Bridgerton!” she exclaimed, a hand flying to her chest. “You startled me.”

“I apologize,” Benedict said quickly, stepping closer. “Startling you was not my intention. I... Well, I didn’t expect to find anyone here, let alone you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, though there was a trace of humor in her gaze. “Hyde Park isn’t precisely secluded, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Touché,” Benedict conceded with a small smile. “Still, I seem to have a habit of interrupting you.” He gestured to the sketchbook in her lap. “May I?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edges of the paper. Then, with a resigned sigh, she handed it over. “It’s not finished,” she said quickly.

Benedict took the sketchbook, his eyes scanning the page. It was a study of a fountain in the park, the water captured mid-flow, the surrounding trees sketched with delicate precision. “This is remarkable,” he said sincerely. “The way you’ve captured the movement of the water—it feels alive.”

Y/N flushed at the compliment, though she tried to mask it with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s nothing special. Just practice.”

“Your modesty does you no justice,” Benedict said, handing the sketchbook back to her. “This is more than practice. It’s art.”

Her lips quirked into a small smile, but she said nothing, her eyes dropping to the sketch.

They sat in silence for a moment before Benedict spoke again. “I owe you an apology, Miss Y/N.”

“For startling me?” she teased, though her tone was light.

“For that and...for my brother’s intrusion at your home earlier today,” he said, his voice more serious now.

Y/N looked up sharply, her expression unreadable. “You knew?”

“I only found out after the fact,” Benedict admitted, frustration seeping into his tone. “Believe me, if I had known what Anthony was planning, I would have stopped him.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I won’t pretend it wasn’t unsettling to have the Viscount Bridgerton show up unannounced, but your brother was respectful.”

“That doesn’t excuse him,” Benedict said firmly. “He had no right to involve himself. Whatever this is,” he gestured between them, “it’s our business, not his.”

A flicker of something passed through Y/N’s eyes—surprise, perhaps, or even approval—but it was gone before Benedict could decipher it.

“Your brother’s actions are understandable, though,” she said finally. “Family often feels entitled to protect us, even when we don’t need their protection.”

“‘Entitled’ is the word,” Benedict muttered, raking a hand through his hair.

Y/N tilted her head, a trace of amusement creeping into her expression. “You sound angry.”

“I am angry,” Benedict admitted, though his voice softened as he continued. “Not just because Anthony went behind my back, but because I... I don’t want anyone to think I need someone else to make my decisions for me. Least of all you.”

Her brows lifted at his candor, and a small smile played on her lips. “I think I can decide what to think of you, Mr. Bridgerton, regardless of your brother’s interference.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink around them. There was an openness in Y/N’s gaze that felt like an invitation, though to what, Benedict wasn’t entirely sure.

“May I sit?” he asked, breaking the silence.

Y/N gestured to the patch of grass beside her. “Be my guest.”

Benedict settled himself beside her, leaning back against the tree trunk. The tension that had coiled in his chest all day seemed to ease in her presence.

“Do you often come here to draw?” he asked after a moment.

“Whenever I can,” Y/N said, glancing at the fountain in the distance. “It’s one of the few places in London that feels...free.”

“I can see the appeal,” Benedict said. “There’s a tranquility here. A sense of space.”

“And yet you seem restless,” Y/N observed, her eyes studying him intently.

Benedict chuckled, though there was little humor in it. “I suppose I am. My family has a way of...complicating things.”

“Families tend to do that,” Y/N said lightly.

He turned to look at her, a question forming on his lips, but he hesitated. “Do you...” he began, then stopped.

“Do I what?” she prompted.

“Do you find it hard?” he asked finally. “Being the person others look to? Shouldering the weight of their expectations?”

Y/N’s gaze grew distant, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her sketchbook. “I think we all bear expectations, whether we like it or not. The trick is deciding which ones matter and which ones don’t.”

Benedict nodded, her words striking a chord. “And have you decided?”

Her lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. “I’m still working on it.”

They fell into a companionable silence, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the faint splash of the fountain. For the first time that day, Benedict felt a sense of calm.

Perhaps, he thought, this wasn’t such a terrible day after all.

( part 2 anyone?)

#fluff #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton season 4 #benedict bridgerton fic

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thebunnednun · 8 months ago

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Tempted to touch! Men of One piece x Fm! Reader (Multi Character fic) Part 2

Pairings: Zoro x Reader, Buggy x Reader, Law x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Sabo x Reader, Kidd x Reader, Corazon x Reader

Synopsis: Can someone write like a lil thing for Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Crocodile and/or Smoker or any One Piece character (secretly) seeing their S/O being able to whine (dance) and having crazy waist control (being able to bounce their ass without movin anything else)? 🧍🏻‍♀️

A little something for @mororona who gave me the prompt.

Use these songs:

Tempted to Touch by Rupee Zoro, Buggy, Rosinante

Nina Sky - Move Ya Body Kidd, Sabo,

Aventura - La Novelita Sanji, Law, Sanji

Or use any song you want *Shrugs*

I'ma also tag @fanaticsnail I added two special someones for you!!~

In honor of me reaching 100 followers I have prepared many stories for you all. Thank you to everyone who supported me through my hiatus. <33 ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

On with the show!!~

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Zoro

The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Thousand Sunny. The crew was scattered around the deck, enjoying a rare moment of peace.

Luffy and Usopp were engaged in a loud, animated conversation, while Nami and Robin sipped on drinks, sharing a quieter exchange. Sanji was in the kitchen, preparing a late-night snack for everyone, and Franky was tinkering with one of his inventions. Brook’s gentle strumming on his guitar added a serene backdrop to the scene.

Zoro, ever the loner, had retreated to a quiet corner of the deck. He leaned against the railing, one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, the other holding a half-empty bottle of sake. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be resting, but in truth, he was always alert, always ready.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

As the night grew darker, a soft, rhythmic beat began to echo across the deck. Zoro opened one eye, scanning the area for the source of the sound. His gaze landed on you and Chopper, standing near the center of the deck, your eyes closed, lost in your own world. Brooks music seemed to flow through you, guiding your movements.

Zoro's interest piqued as he watched you start to move. You swayed your hips with a grace and fluidity that was mesmerizing. The rest of your body remained still, save for your waist, which moved with a hypnotic rhythm. It was a skillful dance, one that required incredible control and strength. You were whining,and you were doing it flawlessly.

You were completely unaware of your audience. The other crew members continued their activities, oblivious to your impromptu performance. Zoro, however, couldn’t take his eyes off you. There was something captivating about the way you moved, something almost primal. He felt a strange mix of emotions—pride, admiration, and an unfamiliar heat that stirred deep within him.

Zoro’s grip on his bottle tightened as you shifted your movements, your hips now bouncing in a way that defied logic. It was as if the rest of your body had frozen in time, leaving only your waist to express the rhythm of the music. He had seen many things in his travels, but this was new, this was different.

As the song reached its crescendo, you finished with a graceful spin, finally opening your eyes. Your gaze met Zoro’s, and you froze, realizing you had an audience.

"[Name]-chan, why did you stop?" The little reindeer whined, wanting to be spun in your arms again. However, he stopped seeing the flustered swordsman and you locked in a staring match.

A blush spread across your cheeks, but Zoro’s expression was unreadable. He took a swig from his bottle, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Didn’t know you could dance like that,” he said, his voice low and appreciative.

You laughed nervously, running a hand through your hair. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Moss-head.”

He smirked, pushing off the railing and walking towards you. “Guess I’ll have to stick around and find out, then.”

"Are you guys flirting?"

"NO!"

Chopper let out some little giggles as he tugged your hand into his smaller one and almost dragged you to Zoro. Shockingly, the moss-head put down his bottle and picked up Chopper, placing him on his shoulders before offering a hand to you.

"Would you dance with me?"

You looked quickly between him and his outstretched palm before nodding and grabbing on.

As Zoro closed the distance between you, you could see the intensity in his eyes. The night was far from over, and you had a feeling it would be one to remember.

Buggy

It was a late night in the Big Top, and Buggy found himself tossing and turning, unable to sleep. His mind swirled with the day’s frustrations and petty annoyances. Costumes not right, Alvida roasting him, Richie almost eating some of the audience members. He grumbled to himself, contemplating another sleepless night when the faint sound of music reached his ears. It was a soft, rhythmic melody, entirely out of place at this hour.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

Annoyed, Buggy sat up and stomped towards the source of the disturbance. "Who the hell is playing music at this time?" he muttered under his breath, ready to bellow at whoever it was to, "Shut that damn music off!"

As he approached the main performance area, he stopped short. There, under the dim spotlight of the Big Top, he saw you, his shyest performer. Your back was to him, and you seemed completely absorbed in your dance, unaware of his presence.

The Big Top, usually bustling with noise and activity, was eerily silent save for the music. The moonlight filtered through the tent’s small windows, casting a gentle glow on your figure. You moved with an ethereal grace, your body swaying to the rhythm. Buggy’s eyes widened as he watched you, mesmerized.

You had always been reserved, avoiding the spotlight and keeping to yourself. But here, in the privacy of the night, you had shed your inhibitions, revealing a side of yourself that was both captivating and unexpected. Your eyes were closed, and a serene smile played on your lips as you moved to the rhythm of the music.

Your hips moved with a hypnotic precision, swaying and bouncing in a way that seemed almost impossible. The rest of your body remained still, a testament to your incredible control. It was a captivating sight, one Buggy couldn’t look away from.

You, the performer who always shied away from the spotlight, the one who would cry if pressed to the stage, were now the embodiment of confidence and skill. The music wrapped around you, each note guiding your movements. Your moments were so sure, rippling like water while you were completely lost in the flow of your craft.

Buggy watched you dance, each movement more enthralling than the last. The world outside the Big Top faded away, leaving only the music, your dance, and the spellbinding atmosphere

He leaned against the stands, his initial annoyance long forgotten. There was something enchanting about watching you like this, seeing you so free and unrestrained. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, shy person he knew you to be during the day. Buggy felt a strange warmth in his chest, a mix of admiration and a newfound affection.

As you continued, Buggy found himself captivated not just by your skill, but by the raw emotion you poured into each step. Your usually reserved demeanor was gone, replaced by a vibrant, enchanting presence. It was as if you had shed all your inhibitions, revealing a side of yourself that was hidden beneath layers of shyness and restraint.

The music continued, wrapping around you like a gentle embrace, guiding your every step. Buggy marveled at your skill and the way you seemed to place your heart into each movement. It was as if you were sharing a part of yourself that no one else had seen, a secret side that only the night and the music could coax out.

‘Beautiful,’

Buggy’s heart pounded as he observed you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. He took a step back, careful not to make a sound. Buggy didn’t want to disturb this private moment, this secret display of your talent. The last thing he wanted was to break the spell you had unknowingly cast.

As the music slowly came to an end, you finished your dance with a final, graceful flourish. You stood there for a moment, breathing heavily but with a peaceful smile on your face, eyes closed.

Buggy took another step back, he didn’t want you to know he had been watching, not yet.

With one last lingering glance at you, Buggy turned and walked away, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he would never look at you the same way again. The shy little performer he had thought he knew was gone, replaced by a captivating dancer with an irresistible charm.

That morning, Buggy carried the memory of your dance with him, a secret treasure he was happy to keep all to himself. It was a reminder that beneath the surface, there was always more to discover, and sometimes, the most beautiful things were found in the most unexpected places.

Law

It was late at night on the Polar Tang, and Law found himself unable to sleep. The day's events replayed in his mind, a mix of battles, research, and the endless responsibilities that came with being a captain. Frustrated, he rose from his bed, deciding to take a walk through the quiet corridors of his submarine.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪ ~

As he wandered, he heard a faint sound of a melody drifting through the halls. It was an unusual sound at this hour, and Law's first instinct was to put a stop to it. His crew needed rest, and so did he. With a sigh, he followed the melody, preparing to tell whoever it was to shut it off.

As he neared the source, Law's sharp eyes caught sight of a figure moving gracefully in the dimly lit common room. He stopped in his tracks, his irritation melting away as he realized who it was. You, the bubbly and ever-optimistic member of his crew, were dancing, completely lost in the flow of your movements.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of a few scattered lights, casting long shadows that danced along with you. The gentle sway of the submarine did little to disturb your rhythm. Your body moved with a fluidity that left Law momentarily speechless. Your hips swayed and bounced with an effortless control, your waist moving independently from the rest of your body. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that Law couldn't look away from.

You had always been the opposite of him—confident, lively, and full of an infectious energy that endeared you to everyone. You brought light to the crew, a stark contrast to Law's often serious demeanor. But here, in the privacy of the night, you had shed your usual exuberance, revealing a side of yourself that was just as captivating and unexpected.

Your eyes were closed, a serene smile playing on your lips as you moved to the rhythm of the music. Law found himself drawn in, watching the way you danced with a mix of grace and passion. Each movement was precise, yet filled with an emotional depth that spoke of a deep connection to the music. You seemed completely unaware of his presence, lost in a world of your own creation.

He leaned against the doorway, his initial annoyance long forgotten. There was something enchanting about watching you like this, seeing you so free and unrestrained. Law felt a strange warmth crawling up his neck into his face and ears.

Just then, the music paused as the record player needed to be restarted. You opened your eyes and saw Law just standing there, causing you to jump and scream out,

"AHHH!"

Startled, Law quickly looked behind him and then back to you, his eyes wide. "[Name]-ya! What's wrong?!"

Realizing that he had scared you, Law quickly crossed the floor to you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. "Hey, it's okay," he murmured into your hair, holding you close. "M’Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you buried your face in his shoulder, trying to calm down. "It’s okay, you just startled me, Law-san," you mumbled, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. You took a deep breath, inhaling his familiar scent, a mixture of antiseptic and something uniquely him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear was soothing, gradually easing your surprise.

Law chuckled softly, his breath warm against your hair. He gently ran a hand down your back in a comforting gesture, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice gentle. "But I have to say, I really like your dancing. You should dance more often."

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your cheeks still flushed. His usual stern expression had softened, and there was a genuine warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. "You really think so?" you asked, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite your usual confidence.

Law nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. I do."

Feeling a surge of affection for him, you grinned. "Well then, let's start now," you whispered with your own smile to match.

A warm smile spread across Law's face as he nodded. Without another word, he pulled you closer, and the two of you began to slow dance to the quiet hum of the Polar Tang. The world outside faded away, leaving only the gentle sway of your bodies and the comforting embrace you shared.

As you danced together in the dim light, a soft, contented silence settled over you both. The bubbly, sunshine-filled crew member and the stoic, grumpy captain, finding comfort and warmth in each other's arms, dancing to the silent music of the night.

SANJIIII

Late at night on the Thousand Sunny, Sanji found himself restless. Unable to sleep, he decided to check the kitchen, suspecting that the usual culprits—Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper—might be raiding the fridge again. With a lit cigarette in his mouth and a broom in hand, he made his way towards the kitchen, ready to shoo away the mischievous trio.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

As he approached, he heard faint noises and peeked through the kitchen window. To his surprise, it wasn't the usual suspects. Instead, it was you, wearing his chef's apron, making a little snack for yourself.

The apron hugged your figure in a way that made his heart flutter. You were preparing a simple sandwich and a glass of water, moving gracefully around the kitchen.

Sanji's eyes softened as he watched you dance while you put everything together, a little hip wiggle accompanying your movements. He adored that wiggle, especially when you ate something delicious. It was the very reason he always tried to create dishes that would make you dance with joy.

You were somewhat of a picky eater, often opting for something like soup or a sandwich while the rest of the crew ate their hearty meals. It broke his heart a bit, thinking he couldn't satisfy your appetite despite his efforts. Yet, he continued to create new dishes, hoping to find something that would suit your palate.

Quietly, Sanji slipped into the kitchen, watching as you finished cleaning and putting away the dishes—another thing he loved about you. Your consideration for his meticulously clean kitchen warmed his heart. You took a bite of your sandwich and did that delightful hip wiggle again, bringing a soft chuckle from Sanji as he admired you.

Suddenly, you accidentally dropped your water glass, and it shattered on the floor. You squatted down to pick up the pieces, but before you could touch any, you felt a warm presence behind you.

"Hold on now, love. You could hurt yourself," a gentle voice murmured.

You gasped as the smell of nicotine found its way to your nose and turned to find Sanji’s strong arms lifting you up and seating you on the kitchen counter. Now faced towards Sanji, he smiled up at you with such fondness as he crouched down that it made you blush. He carefully swept up the glass pieces, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Sanji, how long have you been here?" you asked, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth.

"Long enough to see that wonderful dance of yours," he answered honestly, a teasing smile on his lips. "You shouldn't be embarrassed. It was quite the beautiful sight to behold."

You nibbled on your sandwich, your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Sanji. I didn't mean to wake you."

He sighed, his expression softening. "Don’t be ridiculous, I was already awake. I'm sorry I can't make dishes that agree with your tummy." He threw out the broken glass and set the broom back down before returning to you and adjusting the rolled up cuffs of his shirt before resting his hands on the counter.

‘Yummy,’

You shook your head, blushing. "It's not your fault! I actually include different parts of the dinner you make for us in my soup and sandwiches." You opened your sandwich to show him the seasoned meat he had made for dinner that night.

Sanji's heart soared at the sight. "Really? That makes me so happy, [Name]."

You bit your lip, looking down and playing with your fingers. "There's another reason why I don't eat in front of you, Sanji."

He tilted his head, curiosity piqued. "Why?"

You looked up, swinging your feet nervously. "I know acts of service are your love language, and I noticed you often just drink wine and eat a little bit while the crew has dinner.” You began to fidget with your fingers. “I would like it if you would sit with me during dinner and eat with me."

Sanji's cigarette slipped from his teeth, dropping to the floor. Quickly, he stomped it out, his mind raced before a smile spread across his face. He took your hands and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. "I'd love that, [Name]."

You smiled brightly and tugged him into a hug, catching him by surprise. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. The two of you held each other for a while, basking in the warmth of the moment.

Sanji gently picked you up off the counter and set you down on the now clean, glass-free floor. "May I ask you a favor?"

You hummed in curiosity, looking up at him. "Of course, Sanji."

He took your hand and led you to the center of the kitchen. "Dance with me?"

Your face lit up with joy as you beamed at him. "I'd love to."

You placed your hand in his, and the two of you began to dance softly. One of his hands rested on your waist while your other hand rested on his shoulder. Slowly, you got closer, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. Both of his arms encircled your middle, and your arms wrapped around his neck. You gazed into each other's eyes, foreheads touching as you closed your eyes, enjoying the bliss of being together.

In the quiet of the kitchen, with the soft hum of the ship in the background, you danced together, finding solace and happiness in each other's embrace.

SABO

Sabo had managed to slip away from the Straw Hats during the festival, deftly navigating through the colorful crowds and festive stalls. The air was alive with the aroma of exotic foods and the joyous sounds of laughter and music. He had one mission in mind—to find you, the shyest Straw Hat, the half sea creature who usually kept away from the lively festivities.

Following the winding paths that led away from the main celebration, Sabo made his way to your usual meeting spot, a secluded cove hidden away from the bustling energy of the festival. The trees and berry bushes provide security from prying eyes.

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

As he approached, the distant strains of music reached his ears, carried on the gentle sea breeze. The soft glow of festival lights flickered in the distance, casting playful shadows along the path and adding to the enchanting atmosphere of the night.

Upon reaching the cove, Sabo paused, taking in the sight before him. There you were, bathed in the ethereal light of the moon, your scales catching the shimmering reflections from the sea. The soft, iridescent glow of your skin mesmerized him, each scale reflecting the hues of the festival lights like tiny jewels. They glimmered softly against your body, creating an otherworldly aura around you.

You stood at the edge of the cove, your movements fluid and graceful as you danced to the music only you could hear. The band playing nearby provided a rhythmic backdrop, guiding your movements with its upbeat tempo. Sabo watched, captivated by the way your body moved with such effortless grace, every sway of your hips and twist of your body a testament to your innate connection to the sea.

‘Motion in the Ocean~’

Unable to resist, Sabo stepped forward as you spun gracefully under the moonlight. With a boldness born of longing, he reached out and gently caught you in his arms. You gasped in surprise, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of astonishment and something deeper—a silent energy between you.

Without a word, Sabo began to move with you, his hands finding a natural place on your waist as he guided you in a dance that transcended words. The music enveloped you both, its melody weaving around your intertwined bodies like a delicate thread, binding you together in a shared moment of intimacy.

Your scales brushed against his hands, their texture smooth and cool to the touch, yet somehow soft and inviting. Sabo marveled at the contrast between your delicate scales and the warmth of your skin beneath, a sensation that sent a thrill through him with each fleeting touch.

As you danced, the distance between you melted away, leaving only the raw emotion and desire that had simmered beneath the surface for so long. Sabo's touch was tender yet firm, his gaze never leaving yours as he communicated his feelings through the language of movement and touch.

The song continued, each beat a heartbeat that echoed the rhythm of your shared dance. The festival lights twinkled in the background, casting a magical glow over your intertwined forms. The moonlight bathed you both in its soft, silvery light, highlighting the contours of your faces and the sparkle in your eyes.

As the final notes of the song drifted away, you both stood still, your hands clasped together, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. The intensity of the moment hung between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that had brought you together under the moonlit sky.

"Again?"

"Again!"

With that, you both moved together once more, the world around you fading into the background as you lost yourselves in the dance of passion and longing. The only language needed was your moving bodies and the shimmering magic of the night.

Kidd

Amidst the vibrant festival lights and the lively atmosphere, Eustass Kid found himself observing the festivities with a skeptical eye. The air was thick with the scent of food and excitement, and the sound of music echoed through the streets.

As he navigated through the crowd, his attention was unexpectedly drawn to a figure that stood out from the revelry—a figure he didn't immediately recognize.

There she was, the crewmate he knew as somewhat reserved and always covered, now dressed in a flowing blouse and a short ruffled skirt that was raised higher with every step she took. Her mask was absent, allowing her hair to cascade freely around her shoulders. This new sight of her, smiling, laughing, and dancing without a care in the world, captivated him instantly.

She had become the center of attention in a dance circle, her movements graceful and fluid, drawing the eyes of everyone around her. Her laughter mingled with the music, a melody of joy that echoed through the night.

Kidd couldn't tear his eyes away from her—the way her eyes sparkled with mirth, her smile lighting up her face in a way he had never seen before.

Kidd was enraptured by this new side of her, so full of life and energy. It was a stark contrast to the quiet, reserved persona she usually displayed aboard the ship. He found himself drawn to her like a magnet, wanting to get closer without disrupting her dance.

Meanwhile, Killer, ever observant of his captain's moods and inclinations, noticed Kidd's fixed gaze and sharp interest. With a mischievous grin, he assumed Kidd wanted to join in on the fun and playfully slapped his back in encouragement, pushing him forward towards the dance circle with a hearty, "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

Startled by Killer's unexpected shove, Kidd stumbled forward and inadvertently bumped into the edge of the dance circle, drawing the attention of everyone, including you. At first, you looked surprised, momentarily pausing in your dance as you tried to place the interruption.

However, any annoyance quickly melted into amusement when you realized it was your captain who had stumbled into the midst of the dance. You giggled at the sight of him, his usual stern expression slightly awkward as he tried to move in sync with the music and the others around him.

Without missing a beat, you took matters into your own hands, quite literally. Grabbing Kidd's hands with a playful grin, you pulled him flush against you, guiding him through the steps of the dance with an infectious confidence. The music seemed to intensify around them, matching the fiery spirit of their impromptu dance.

Kidd, though initially caught off guard, soon found himself swept up in the rhythm of the dance and the energy radiating from you. Your touch was surprisingly gentle yet firm, leading him through the intricate steps with a natural grace that belied your usual reserved demeanor. He couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious enthusiasm and the way your laughter filled the air around them.

Each step and sway seemed to draw you closer, the rhythm syncing your movements in a sensual duet. The festival lights cast shifting patterns around you, accentuating the curve of your neck as you leaned into his touch, and the warmth of his hand on your waist, guiding you in the dance. Kidd's gaze held an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his fingertips grazing lightly against your skin as you moved together. The air crackled with a palpable tension, charged with the electricity of desire.

Your breath mingled in the space between you, the heat of the night matching the heat rising between your entwined forms. The world around you faded into a blur, leaving only the sensation of his strong frame pressed against yours, and the undeniable attraction that had ignited between you.

The festival lights cast a kaleidoscope of colors around them, accentuating their dance with a vibrant backdrop of swirling hues. The night seemed to bend around them, the music guiding their every twist and turn, until they were lost in their own world of rhythm and passion.

With each beat of the music, you surrendered to the allure of the dance, allowing yourselves to be carried away by the intoxicating rhythm and the lingering touches of his hand on your hips and waist sending a rush of warmth through you.

At the end of the song, they stood together in the center of the circle, their hands still clasped, breaths mingling in the cool night air. Kidd couldn't suppress the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. The festival lights flickered around them, casting playful shadows over their faces as they caught their breath.

"Well, well," Kidd started, his voice low and teasing, "Who knew the prude one had such moves?" Kidd couldn't help but admire you in this liberated state, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the warmth of your smile.

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of interest and amusement. "Surprised, Captain? I guess there's more to me than meets the eye," you replied, your tone playful yet tinged with challenge.

Kidd chuckled, a deep rumble that resonated in the night air. "Clearly," he remarked, his gaze locking with yours. "I never took you for someone who could command a dance floor."

You shrugged nonchalantly, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. "You never asked~," you quipped, stepping closer to him until your bodies were almost touching.

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of admiration crossing his features. "Maybe I should ask more often," he countered, his voice lowering to a husky murmur.

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his gaze, your breath catching slightly. "Maybe you should," you shot back, a bratty challenge in your tone as you leaned closer to him, your faces mere inches apart.

For a moment, you stood there in the electric tension between you, the music and laughter of the festival fading into the background. It was just the two of you, caught in a dance of words and desires.

"Care to show me more of your hidden talents, then?" Kidd murmured, his voice a low, enticing growl.

A smirk played on your lips as you tilted your head, meeting his gaze head-on. "Depends," you teased, "Are ya up for the challenge?"

Kidd's eyes darkened with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, his hand tightening around yours. "Try me," he dared, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

With that, you pulled him back into the dance, your bodies moving together with a newfound power and intimacy. The festival continued around you, but in that moment, all that mattered was the fiery connection between you in the midst of the night's celebration.

As you danced, your banter continued, each teasing remark and playful touch fueling the chemistry that simmered between you. The festival lights illuminated your dance, casting a halo of warmth and desire around your figures as you moved in sync, drawn together by a magnetic pull that neither of you could resist.

At the end of the song, you paused once more, breathless and exhilarated from your dance. Your eyes locked, the air thick with unspoken promises and newfound understanding.

"Can you handle me?" you whispered, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Kidd smirked, his gaze never leaving yours. "I’ll fuck around and find out," he agreed, pulling you closer as you both prepared to lose yourselves once more in the intoxicating rhythm of the night.

Corazon Rosinante <3

Rosinante joined the Straw Hats and Heart Pirates at a bustling club to celebrate their latest victory. The atmosphere was alive with pulsing music and laughter, drinks flowing freely as everyone reveled in the night's festivities. Amidst the animated crowd, Cora sat quietly at the bar, nursing a glass of water, his serene expression belying the chaos around him.

You, working behind the bar as a bartender, couldn't help but notice the lone figure amidst the revelry. Curiosity sparked, you approached Rosinante with a friendly smile, unaware that he couldn't speak.

“Hey stranger, you enjoying yourself?”

He looked a little startled by you. He hadn’t expected anyone to strike up a conversation with him tonight. Holding up a polite finger, he dug into his pocket for a moment, pulling out a notepad. He scribbled a cheerful greeting and slid it over to you, hoping to communicate with you.

‘Hi! Thanks for asking. I’m doing fine.’

Unfortunately for him, his pencil broke. Cora let out a silent groan before reaching into his pockets to find another writing tool. Quiet giggles filled his ears before he looked up to see you pull a pencil from behind your ear and you scribble a cheerful greeting and before sliding it over to him.

‘No problem at all.’

Rosinante, caught off guard by your gesture, glanced at the note with surprise before returning your smile. You picked up a pen and offered it to him and he began to respond in kind, a playful doodle sketched on its surface. It depicted a tiny heart wearing a straw hat, accompanied by a speech bubble saying, "Quiet night?"

You looked up, surprised, then smiled warmly. He reached for the note and wrote underneath, "Not much for the noise. Enjoy watching them have fun."

You chuckled softly, replying with another doodle, this time of a heart holding a pen, writing, "I get that. Sometimes it's nice just to watch."

Rosinante grinned at your doodle, appreciating the whimsy in your communication. Before he could respond, a commotion broke out nearby.

Your coworker, a spirited woman named Maya, known for her contagious enthusiasm (and for getting so hammered with the clients she would dance on the bar), had spotted you at your station. With a mischievous wink, Maya grabbed your hand, urging you to join her on the dance floor.

At first, you resisted, shaking your head with a playful protest. But Maya wasn't easily deterred. She pulled you gently but persistently, whispering, "Come on, just this once! It's your song!"

~ ♩♪♩♬ ♬♩♪♩~

The DJ, sensing the moment, began to cue up your favorite track, its familiar beats filling the air. Initially hesitant, you laughed and shook your head, trying to resist her playful insistence. But Maya wasn't one to take no for an answer. With a playful pout and a persuasive sway, she coaxed you onto the dance floor amidst cheers and encouragement from those nearby.

“Fine! Just for one song!” You finally relented, stepping onto the dance floor. Caught up in the moment, you began to move, your body responding naturally to the music. Your dance was a display of precise waist control and confident grace, drawing all eyes towards you.

The music enveloped you, with you effortlessly weaving through the crowd with dance moves that showcased your skillful waist control and playful charisma. The club erupted in cheers, friends and strangers alike clapping along to the rhythm, captivated by your impromptu performance.

Meanwhile, Rosinante watched in awe seated at the bar. He couldn't help but watch with rapt attention. His cheeks flushed as he observed your skillful movements and the joyous energy you exuded. He hadn’t expected this tonight, he hadn’t expected you tonight—so vibrant and alive, captivating everyone around you.

The club erupted in applause and cheers, celebrating your impromptu performance. Maya danced alongside you, matching your energy with her own infectious spirit, creating a scene of pure revelry and joy.

Rosinante, mesmerized by your dance, felt a warmth spread through him. He couldn't look away, feeling admiration and perhaps a hint of a crush stirring within him as he watched you shine in the spotlight of the dance floor. His heart pounding in his ears along with the music's beat.

Meanwhile, Luffy and Zoro noticed Rosinante's fixed gaze on you. With mischievous grins, they nudged Law, who was quietly sipping his drink nearby. Law, ever the strategist, decided to intervene in his own unique way.

"Cora-san seems to need a little nudge," Law remarked casually to Luffy and Zoro.

"I'll help him find it."

Before Rosinante could react, Law had already grasped his hand, feigning concern as he led Rosinante away from the bar. "Let's checkout the DJ booth," Law suggested, his tone masking his true intentions.

Confused but compliant, Rosinante allowed himself to be led towards where you were dancing. Suddenly, Law released his hand, leaving Rosinante standing awkwardly behind you. Flustered, Rosinante attempted to move out of the way, his taller frame proving a challenge in the crowded club.

“Looks like we got a challenger folks!” The DJ boomed over the music leading you to turn around and crank your neck up, up, up at the now standing silent customer.

“Oh it’s you!”

Cora, unsure of what was happening, allowed himself to be led, his mind racing with thoughts of how to gracefully excuse himself from the situation. Just as he was about to attempt to leave, you noticed him and gently grabbed the back of his shirt, preventing his escape.

The music pounded around you as you shouted over the noise, "Hey! Dance with me!"

Startled, Rosinante fumbled for his notepad to write a response, but you took it gently from his hand and pocketed it with a knowing smile. Sensing his hesitation, you hopped up onto a nearby table, waving him forward. Your eyes met his, and he could see the playful challenge in your expression.

“This should be okay, right?”

With a shy nod and a blush coloring his cheeks, Rosinante tentatively joined you at the table. It had been years since he last danced, but with your encouragement and the pulsing beat of the music, he quickly found his rhythm again. His movements were graceful yet tentative at first, but as the song progressed, confidence surged through him.

The dance became a playful exchange of steps and spins, laughter ringing out between you. Rosinante surprised himself with how easily he moved, his tall frame gracefully accommodating your playful gestures. As the music reached a crescendo, he swept you into his arms, one hand securely under your thighs and the other clasping yours. You held onto his waist with your legs and together, you spun in sync, the joy evident on both your faces.

The club erupted into thunderous cheers and applause, celebrating your spontaneous and captivating dance. Even Law, watching from the sidelines with a rare smile, couldn't help but be impressed by Rosinante's unexpected grace and the dorky cuteness between you both.

For Rosinante, this unexpected dance had not only brought him closer to you but also rediscovered a part of himself he thought he had long forgotten. And as the club around him faded, amidst the laughter and celebration, he found himself very grateful for the playful twist of fate that had brought him to your side.

As the song ended, you both took a bow, and the crowd clapped enthusiastically. However, in his attempt to stand tall and bow gracefully, Rosinante rolled his ankle and stumbled, causing a collective gasp from the onlookers.

“Ah shit.”

“There Cora-san goes again!”

“Have you tried drinking some milk?”

Quick to react, Law stepped forward, helping you guide Corazon to a nearby chair. He swiftly retrieved some ice from the bar and placed it gently in a bag on Rosinante's ankle, muttering about the clumsiness under his breath.

Rosinante winced slightly but managed a sheepish smile as he gestured for you to come closer. With a touch of embarrassment, he handed you a note. You gasped in surprise, feeling your pockets and realizing that Rosinante had discreetly taken back his notepad without your notice.

The note was a simple yet heartfelt message, thanking you for the best time he'd had in years with a smiley face that had hearts on both cheeks. You beamed warmly at him, feeling a rush of affection for this gentle-hearted man who had ventured out of his comfort zone for you.

"Can I give you a hug?" you asked softly, seeking permission.

Rosinante's shy eyes widened, and he nodded eagerly, opening his arms. Without hesitation, you dove into his embrace, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his gesture. He felt so fucking good to hug.Even the scent of his cologne, mixed with the subtle aroma of the club and the faint trace of sweat from dancing wasn’t bad at all.

He was so tall you actually could almost climb into his lap if you wanted. But that would be going pretty far for a first meeting. Instead, you tucked your head into his neck and closed your eyes. His heart was pounding against yours, the rhythm syncing with the lingering excitement of the dance.

‘He’s so fucking cute!~’

In that moment, amidst the music and the crowd, you realized that you weren't the only one feeling a "little" flustered.

Suddenly, the DJ's voice blasted over the speakers, giving you both a shoutout. "Let's hear it for the cutest couple out here tonight!"

You and Rosinante's cheeks flushed crimson as you snapped your necks to the DJ before shyly looking back at each other. As he sat back in the chair, trying to process the unexpected attention. In his flustered state, he tipped backwards, taking you with him in a gentle fall. Before you could react, his strong arms instinctively wrapped around you, protecting you from the fall.

You cringed at the echo of the chair slapping against the concrete floor as you ended up in the handsome stranger's lap and pressed up into his chest and neck.

"Sorry!" he whispered in your ear softly, his voice so warm and soothing that it sent a shiver down your spine. It was then that you realized—he could talk, and his voice was incredibly nice.

The crew members of both the Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates, along with your coworkers and even your manager, let out collective "awes" at the sight of you both, wrapped up in each other's arms. The moment, filled with laughter and warmth, seemed to freeze in time, a perfect tableau of the unexpected

As your coworkers and Law helped you both back up from the chair, the warmth of the moment lingered between you and Rosinante. Despite the stumble, you found yourselves chatting easily, laughter punctuating the conversation as you exchanged stories and shared moments from the night.

Eventually, the festivities began to wind down, and one by one, your friends and colleagues bid their farewells, heading home for the night. Rosinante lingered for a moment, his gaze meeting yours with a soft smile.

Before he left, he waved goodbye and then gestured towards his pocket. Confused, you looked down and discovered a note tucked neatly into your pocket. With a flutter of anticipation, you unfolded it and read the words written in his neat handwriting.

–

My tiny dancer,

Thank you for the most wonderful evening I've had in years. Your smile lit up the room, and dancing with you was a joy I'll cherish. I hope we can do it again soon! (But hopefully without the ‘accidents’.)

Take care,

Rosinante

Phone number: XXX- (555) -4567

–

Heart racing with excitement, you looked up to find Corazon already halfway out the door, his shy smile lighting up his face. With a rush of gratitude and newfound connection, you tucked the note safely away,

You nodded at him, conveying your appreciation and eagerness to see him again, and then playfully blew him a kiss.

Corazon's cheeks flushed crimson once more as he, in a moment of playful realization, pretended to catch the blown kiss, but his attention was momentarily diverted. With a soft thud, he accidentally banged his head against the metal door frame, a mix of embarrassment and amusement crossing his features. You cringed a little bit from the impact and gestured to his forehead. He gave you a thumbs up and your heart relaxed a bit.

Meanwhile, the other characters in the club had been watching the scene unfold with amused affection. Maya clapped her hands together with a gleeful laugh, thoroughly enjoying the romantic interlude she had inadvertently helped create. Law, who stood nearby, nudged Corazon along, “Come on, you’ll see her again soon,” a rare smile playing on his lips as he observed Corazon's departure.

Outside, the night air was cool and refreshing as Corazon walked away from the club, a smile lingering on his lips. He couldn't shake the butterflies of excitement and anticipation, grateful for the unexpected turn of events that had brought him to you.

Back inside, the club gradually quieted down as patrons began to disperse, each carrying with them memories of a lively celebration and the heartwarming sight of two unlikely dancers. Maya and your other coworkers exchanged knowing glances, silently agreeing to tease you about this later and hound you for updates once you’d texted the clumsy cutie.

You were a little more smiley as you closed up your section. Standing amidst the remnants of the evening's joy, you felt a sense of possibility and newfound happiness knowing that this night had brought something special into your life—a gentle-hearted man named Corazon, who had danced and rolled his way into your heart.

You reached for your phone to take a picture of the note. Just in case you lost it. Tucking Corazon's note safely into your pocket, you knew that this was just the beginning of a romance with a gentle-hearted giant named Corazon.

Bonus:

Later that night, as you settled in at home, you reached into your pocket and pulled out Corazon's note once more. With a smile, you carefully unfolded it and read the words again, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. You decided to send him a text, wanting to talk to him again.

----

Unknown: Hi Corazon! It's [Name] from the club. I made it home safely. Thank you for the lovely note. 😊

----

Meanwhile, across town, Corazon lay in a hospital bed with his head bandaged and his ankle elevated, the result of an unexpected mishap on his way home. While walking back to his car with his friends, Cora was lost in thoughts of you and the evening's enchantment. So he had stumbled into an uncovered manhole, resulting in a tumble that miraculously left him only bruised and slightly battered.

----

Rosinante: Hi [Name]! I'm glad you made it home safely. Sorry for the delay—I had a little accident on my way back. Nothing serious, just a reminder to pay more attention. 😅 How are you?

----

You settle back into your cozy spot on the couch, phone in hand, waiting for his response. The moments stretch out as you imagine the possible scenarios, your mind filled with concern for the endearing, clumsy man who had captured your heart so unexpectedly.

Your phone dings again, and you quickly read his reply.

––––

Oh no! What happened? Are you okay? :You

Rosinante: I was daydreaming about you and didn't notice an uncovered manhole. I fell in and sprained my ankle and bumped my head. I'm in the hospital now, but it's nothing serious. Just a bit embarrassed. 😳

–––––

“Oh Dearest Pie, he falls down a freaking manhole and still asks me how I’m doing.”

Your heart melts at his candid confession, a mixture of concern and affection welling up within you. You can't help but laugh softly, picturing the tall, awkward sweetheart stumbling into a manhole because he was thinking of you.

–––––

Tiny Dancer: Oh no, Rosinante! I'm so sorry to hear that. I hope you're not in too much pain. If it helps, I'm flattered that I was on your mind. 😊

–––––

A shy smile tugs at his lips as he lies in his hospital bed. His reply comes quickly, the playful tone lifting your spirits.

–––––

Rosinante: It does help, actually! Your smile is a pretty nice distraction. 😊

–––––

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks as you continue the conversation, sharing stories and laughter, bridging the distance between you with every message. The night grows late, but neither of you seems to notice, too engrossed in the blossoming feelings between you.

––––

I wish I could be there to keep you company. :You

Rosinante: Just knowing you're thinking of me is enough. But maybe we can meet up again soon please? I promise to avoid any manholes this time! 😅

––––

“Fuck he’s too cute.”

––––

I'd like that very much. Rest up, okay? :You

And thank you for making tonight so special. :You

Rosinante: Thank you, too. Goodnight, Tiny Dancer.

Goodnight, Gentle Giant. :You

––––

Despite the mishap, Rosinante couldn't help but smile as he typed out the message. The memory of your smile and the warmth of your presence lingered with him, easing the discomfort of his minor injuries. He eagerly began to look up other dance clubs he could take you to, his heart thankful for the continuation of this unexpected and delightful chance of meeting you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link to part 1.

Let this serve as the official kick off to the summer!

Taglist: @orange-milky @xxsliverwolfxx @mochiclouds

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I wanna add more characters later, Lemme know what characters you want! DM's are always open.

Posted on the ao3 account soon.

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See you soon my loves!!

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