#that I think about lighting my laptop on fire

[sexynetra]

Guys idk what happened the spirit of Maxianna possessed me I just wrote smut for the first time in my life 🤭

[skateisawesome]

does my laptop feel so girly pop after making horrifying crackling noises for no apparent reason?

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[elikajinnie]

not rushing but Part 3 of stealing ur way into my heart PLS PLS PLS (maybe ni-ki ‘kidnaps’ YN AGAIN????)

Steal Your Way To My Heart - N.R (Part 3)

P: Bankrobber! Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Murder, Possessiveness, Violence, Manipulation, Blood/Injury, Kidnapping, Ni-ki just wanna spoil you.

Synopsis: Your life was boring—until a visit to the bank changes everything. Now you find yourself under the attention of one of the criminals. Now what do you do when the criminal's attention isn't just on the job but on you?

a/n: alot of you wanted part 3.. not suprised AT ALL! also i think i went overboard with the ending???

part 1 part 2 part 4

--

You’d heard stories of people romanticizing criminals—a dangerous allure, the thrill of forbidden love. It wasn’t about the crime itself, but the lengths they’d go to for the ones they loved. A criminal in love would do anything to keep you safe, anything to make you happy, anything to make you theirs.

You never thought that would become your reality. But then, there was Ni-ki.

He was everything you never expected and everything you couldn’t resist. If his eyes caught yours lingering on something in a store window, the very next day it would be in your hands, wrapped up as if it were always meant to belong to you. If you muttered even a passing complaint about your laptop’s sluggish speed, you’d come home to find a brand-new one waiting on your desk. If you craved something—anything—at an inconvenient hour, he’d be out the door before you could even protest, returning with your heart’s desire in hand.

When you felt lonely, he’d wrap you in his arms, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in his world. If the weight of the day dragged you down, he’d show up unannounced with ice cream and a quiet willingness to listen as you vented, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back.

Ni-ki gave you the world on a silver platter, no hesitation, no limits. All he asked of you in return was silence.

Keep quiet about his identity. Keep quiet about the things you knew, the things you’d seen. Keep quiet about the man that lived his life in shadows, on the wrong side of the law.

It should’ve felt wrong. But when he looked at you with those dark, unrelenting eyes, as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, it felt so right. And slowly, silently, you found yourself slipping further into his world.

And that world was as alluring as it was dangerous.

You told yourself you weren’t complicit. After all, you weren’t the one out there breaking the law. You didn’t ask for the gifts, didn’t demand the way he spoiled you. But the truth sat heavily in the back of your mind: you weren’t stopping him either.

How could you, when the way he looked at you made your knees weak? When the way he spoke to you, soft and reverent, made you feel like you were the center of his universe?

Ni-ki had a way of making the rest of the world blur into nothing. His attention was absolute, and it smothered the small voice inside you whispering that this couldn’t last. That you were playing with fire.

He made you feel safe, in the most ironic of ways. It wasn’t just about the extravagant gifts or the affection he lavished on you. It was the promise he carried, unspoken but clear: No one will ever hurt you. Not while I’m here.

And you believed him. Because Ni-ki wasn’t just intense—he was capable. A dangerous kind of capable. You’d seen glimpses of it in the way he carried himself, the way he talked about the people in his life. He was a man who got what he wanted, and what he wanted... was you.

But sometimes, when you were alone in the quiet of your room, staring at the ring he’d slipped onto your finger or the necklace he’d fastened around your neck, unease would creep in.

This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t safe.

Yet, when the familiar buzz of your phone pulled you out of those thoughts, your lips would curve into an involuntary smile at his name lighting up the screen.

"What are you up to, doll?" his text would read, and just like that, the doubts would vanish.

You couldn’t resist him.

It was good, or at least you told yourself it was. But you should have known, deep down, that being involved with someone like Ni-ki would come with its own set of risks—risks that you were too enamored with him to fully comprehend at first.

There were those nights when you lay in bed, phone in hand, waiting for his message or his call. You'd silently hope everything went smoothly, that he’d come back safe from his latest heist. You’d even find yourself counting the seconds between each of his texts, praying he wasn’t in the middle of something dangerous. Every time he disappeared for an operation, it was like a part of you disappeared with him.

You didn’t care that he was breaking the law. What worried you, what gnawed at you in the quiet of your room, was that you were rooting for him to succeed. To come home unscathed. A criminal. You told yourself it was the person he was, not the acts he committed. But even you couldn’t deny the thrill of his daring lifestyle, the way he made it all seem effortless.

Then were the nights that reminded you of the reality you were living in.

The first time it happened, you froze. The sight of Ni-ki at your door, blood seeping through his shirt, his lip split and bruises already forming on his face—it made your heart lurch. He had given you a weak, crooked smile, brushing it off like it was nothing.

“Rival gang got a little bold,” he’d said casually, like he wasn’t bleeding on your floor.

You didn’t ask questions. You didn’t even let yourself think. Instead, you grabbed the medical bag from your bathroom and got to work.

He sat still, his eyes trained on you as you cleaned the wounds, wincing when you pressed too hard but never complaining.

"You’ve done this before," he murmured, his voice soft and teasing, though his eyes betrayed something deeper.

"Not for someone like you," you shot back, more focused on patching him up than entertaining his flirtation.

It was a vicious cycle—one that pulled you deeper into his world with every passing day.

“Why do you do this?” you asked him one night as you taped up his ribs, your voice quieter than you intended.

His head tilted slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Do what?”

“This.” You gestured vaguely, not just at his injuries but at the life he was leading. “Why keep doing this when you could... I don’t know... stop?”

He let out a low chuckle, but it wasn’t mocking. It was almost... sad.

“Because it’s all I know, doll. And because it gives me the means to give you the world.”

Your hands froze for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in.

He reached out, his fingers brushing yours. “You’re the only thing that makes any of it worth it.”

You didn’t respond. What could you say? You hated how those words made your heart swell, how they made the danger of it all seem almost... worth it.

To be honest, you thought you’d reached a sort of balance with Ni-ki’s lifestyle. You’d continue your normal routine—work, school, whatever—and he’d do his heists, keeping that part of his life mostly separate from you. It wasn’t ideal, sure, but you’d adjusted to it. Or so you thought.

Only fate had other plans. Apparently, you were cursed. Because somehow, for the third time—three times—you found yourself smack dab in the middle of one of his heists. What were the odds, honestly? Was the universe playing some sort of sick joke?

You were at the bank, planning to cash out your latest paycheck. Simple, mundane, nothing out of the ordinary. The line was moving slow, and you’d already checked your phone twice to pass the time. You glanced around, noticing the increased security: guards stationed at every corner, sleek new cameras on the walls, and some sort of high-tech door by the vault area. The bank had recently upgraded its building, and with it, its security measures. More money, gold bars, you’d heard. It explained all the extra precautions.

You huffed, annoyed but not exactly concerned. Whatever, you thought. None of this was your problem. You just wanted to get your cash and leave.

But then the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first—a faint tension in the air. The guards seemed on edge, their hands hovering near their weapons. You noticed one of them muttering into his earpiece, his eyes darting toward a door in the back.

And then it happened.

The door bursted open, and chaos erupted.

You froze, your stomach dropping as a group of masked figures stormed in, guns raised. People screamed, dropping to the floor as the robbers barked orders. Your heart raced, the scene all too familiar, and for a moment, you couldn’t believe it. Again? Really?

And then you saw him.

Even with the mask, you recognized Ni-ki immediately. The way he moved, the way he commanded the room—it was unmistakable.

You ducked down, blending in with the terrified crowd, hoping—praying—that this time, you could just stay out of it. That he had not seen you, let you go about your day like any normal person trying to cash their paycheck.

But, of course, the universe had other plans.

It didn’t take long before one of his crew members, a tall guy with a skull bandana, spotted you. He leaned in, whispering something to Ni-ki, and you saw his shoulders stiffen.

Seconds later, Ni-ki was standing in front of you, his dark eyes boring into yours through the slits of his mask.

“Really?” you hissed under your breath, unable to stop yourself.

He didn’t respond, just grabbed your arm and pulled you to your feet. “You’re with me,” he said, his voice low and firm, leaving no room for argument.

You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you silenced you immediately. This wasn’t Ni-ki, your overly attentive, borderline smothering boyfriend. This was Ni-ki, the criminal, the one who didn’t take no for an answer.

“Just stay close,” he muttered, his hand still gripping your arm as he led you toward the back.

Oh, you were cursed, all right.

“Three times,” you whispered harshly as he pushed you into a corner, shielding you as his crew worked. “Three. Times. Do you have any idea how unlucky that is?”

His eyes softened, just for a moment. “Maybe it’s fate,” he said.

“Fate?” you echoed, incredulous. “You’re unbelievable.”

Seriously, three times?

You watched the chaos unfold around you, your heart pounding in your chest as the robbers moved with precision. Some of them were threatening the bystanders, waving guns in their faces, while others kept a close eye on the security guards, forcing them into submission. A few of them disappeared through the back doors, probably heading toward the vault.

What struck you, though, was the sheer number of them. There were more robbers than you’d expected—at least nine in total, all clad in black and masks, moving like a well-oiled machine. It was a far cry from the small group you’d seen the last time, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Ni-ki had been planning this for a while.

You looked around, trying to stay low, your heart racing as the tension built. This wasn’t just another robbery; something felt off about it.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a gunshot shattered the air, followed by a scream. You snapped your head toward the noise, your stomach twisting.

One of the robbers had shot a security guard. The body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling around him. The room went silent for a brief moment, the horror of it settling over everyone like a heavy weight.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at Ni-ki, half-expecting him to react. But he didn’t. He barely flinched. He was still standing there, his posture relaxed.

His calmness, his lack of reaction to what just happened, sent a chill down your spine.

He glanced at you for a split second, meeting your gaze with a look of indifference. “Don’t worry, doll,” he said, his voice soft but firm, like he was reassuring you about something you shouldn’t be worried about. “This is how it goes.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach. This is how it goes? Did he really think this was normal? That killing someone was just a part of the job?

But you couldn’t say anything. Not when you were stuck here, not when you were caught in the middle of this madness.

As much as you hated it, you couldn’t ignore the fact that Ni-ki was still in control. The room seemed to bend to his will, the other robbers moving as he directed them, securing the area and getting what they needed.

You were just a bystander. Someone caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. And yet, somehow, Ni-ki had dragged you into this once again.

Ni-ki suddenly waved over another robber, his gesture subtle but clear. The man, wearing a similar balaclava to the others, approached with a silent, purposeful stride. Ni-ki leaned in to whisper something to him, his words low and quick, his hand brushing briefly against the robber's arm before he walked off.

The new robber turned his attention to you, his eyes scanning you with interest. He came to a stop beside you, standing just a little too close for comfort. His presence was imposing, his body language relaxed but alert, as though he was waiting for something from you.

You could feel the weight of his gaze, the kind that made you want to shrink back, but you forced yourself to stand tall. You could feel your pulse quicken, knowing that the situation was escalating.

The robber leaned down close to you, his breath warm against your ear. His voice was low, almost too soft for anyone else to hear, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So you're Wolf's girlfriend... pretty," he murmured, the compliment laced with something darker, a subtle edge to his tone. "He clearly has good taste, I see."

You couldn’t help but feel a sudden unease. His words weren’t meant to flatter you, but to remind you of your place.

You glanced at Ni-ki, his back was to you, but you could feel his presence, even at a distance, like a constant weight in the room.

The man beside you gave you an almost predatory look, as if he was trying to gauge your reaction. You stiffened, instinctively taking a step back, but he matched your movement, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckled softly, the sound unsettling in the tense silence that had filled the bank. “You’re just a pretty face caught in the wrong place, huh?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Was he trying to intimidate you, or was it just a twisted attempt at flirting? Either way, you weren’t about to play into it.

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to ignore the pounding in your chest. You couldn’t afford to show fear.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, pretty. We’re just here for the money, not for you. Though…” He trailed off, looking you up and down. “Maybe when all this is over, we can have some fun.”

You grimaced as the robber's words sank in, feeling a wave of disgust wash over you. You snapped back, trying to put some space between you two. “I’m not interested,” you said sharply, your voice firm, hoping to end the uncomfortable exchange.

But the man didn't take your refusal well. He gripped your wrist painfully, and before you could pull away, he yanked you closer. His breath was foul, and his smirk turned into something more sinister. “I didn’t give you an option, sweetheart," he said in a low voice, his hand squeezing your wrist, pulling you closer.

You felt your stomach churn, panic beginning to rise, and as you turned, you saw Ni-ki.

Without a word, Ni-ki moved with terrifying speed, his fist connecting with the robber's face with a sickening thud. The man staggered back, his hands flying up to his face in shock, and he dropped to the floor with a gasp of pain.

The robber groaned, his voice trembling as he muttered, “Please, I didn’t mean any—”

But Ni-ki didn’t let him finish. With one swift motion, he raised his gun, aiming it directly at the robber’s head. There was no hesitation in his movements, no mercy in his eyes. “You don’t touch what’s mine,” he mumbled coldly, and then the sharp crack of the gunshot echoed through the bank.

The sound of the gunshot still reverberated in your ears as you stood there, frozen. You tried to process everything, but it felt like the world around you had slowed down, your mind struggling to catch up with the situation.

Ni-ki, however, seemed unaffected. With a calmness that unsettled you, he stepped toward you, his movements smooth as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his jacket pocket. Before you could even react, he swiftly cuffed your hands, his fingers working with precision as he secured the metal around your wrists.

Your heart raced, and you felt a surge of panic in your chest. "What are you—" you began to ask, but he didn't let you finish.

His hand was already on your arm, pulling you close to him with ease. You could feel his body heat radiating against yours as he moved, guiding you along with him. Despite the tightness of the cuffs, you didn’t fight back—there was no point. The last thing you wanted was to make him angry.

He leaned in, his lips close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “Are you okay?” His voice was soft, almost too gentle, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

"I’m fine," you managed, though your voice didn’t sound convincing, even to you.

Ni-ki didn’t respond with words. Instead, he simply nodded before guiding you down the hall toward the vault, his grip firm but not painful as he kept you close to him. When you reached the vault, your eyes widened at the scene before you.

The massive steel door had been forced open, exposing rows of shelves stacked with cash, gold bars, and other valuables. Several masked robbers were inside, hurriedly stuffing money and goods into black duffel bags. The sight was surreal, like something out of a heist movie.

“Move faster!” Ni-ki’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding as he shouted orders to the robbers in the vault. “We’ve got five minutes. No screw-ups. Grab the high-value stuff and leave the rest.”

Despite the urgency in his tone, his hand never left your waist, his hold on you protective and possessive. His other hand held his gun, ready for anyone or anything that dared to interrupt the operation.

He guided you to a spot just outside the vault, positioning you near a wall. His grip loosened, but he didn’t fully let go, leaning in close enough for you to catch his scent���a mix of leather and something distinctly him.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Before you could respond, he turned and jogged off, barking more commands at the others. You were left standing awkwardly in the chaos, cuffed hands resting against your stomach, unsure of what to do.

The robbers moved with precision, barely acknowledging your presence as they loaded bag after bag with stolen goods. One guy accidentally dropped a stack of cash, swearing under his breath before hastily picking it up and shoving it into a bag.

You glanced around, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the situation. What were you even doing here? How had your life spiraled into this? Here you were—cuffed, stuck, and utterly helpless—wondering how much deeper you were going to get pulled into Ni-ki’s world.

The chaos erupted so suddenly it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. One moment, it was frantic but controlled—the next, gunfire rang out, deafening and sharp. Screams filled the air, mixing with the sound of shattering glass and shouted commands.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you turned toward the entrance of the building. Through the haze of fear and confusion, you spotted SWAT teams swarming outside, their weapons drawn and aimed. The robbers scattered like startled animals, some returning fire, others ducking for cover.

Instinctively, you tried to move, your cuffed hands fumbling as you scrambled backward, desperate to get away from the line of fire. Your breaths came fast and shallow, panic clouding your mind. But before you could get far, a strong hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you back with force.

You screamed, kicking out in desperation, but it was no use. The grip on your ankle tightened as you were dragged across the floor, your palms scraping against the cold tiles.

“No, no, no—let me go!” you cried out, thrashing in vain.

The next thing you knew, you were hoisted off the ground and thrown over someone’s shoulder like you weighed nothing. The world spun, your vision blurring as you clung to whatever part of them you could grab, your nails digging into their back.

The sharp smell of gunpowder filled your nostrils as the masked figure carrying you moved swiftly through the chaos. The sound of bullets whizzing past was deafening, each one making you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Stop squirming,” the familiar voice snapped, cutting through the noise.

You peeked through your fingers and realized it was Ni-ki who had you. Relief mixed with the lingering panic, but it didn’t last long.

Ni-ki barreled through the bank’s back entrance, outside, the chaos was no better.

“Keep your head down,” Ni-ki growled, his voice low and commanding.

You buried your face in his back, clutching his shirt tightly as he sprinted toward a waiting black van parked in the alley. The van door slid open, and Ni-ki jumped in with you still slung over his shoulder.

The sound of heavy boots thudding against the pavement grew louder as the other robbers began rushing toward the van. Ni-ki hadn’t even set you down yet when the first of them jumped inside, lugging a heavy bag filled with cash and valuables.

“Move it! Move it!” one of them shouted, their voice muffled under their mask.

Ni-ki set you down on the van floor, keeping a firm hand on your arm as you tried to steady yourself. Before you could get a proper grip on what was happening, more of the crew piled in, tossing bags haphazardly into the cramped space.

Bullets ricocheted off the walls outside, sparks flying as a few of the robbers returned fire toward the SWAT team. You flinched, shrinking back as far as you could, the deafening sound making your ears ring.

“Let’s go!” one of the masked figures barked, slamming the butt of their gun against the side of the van for emphasis.

Two more robbers dove in, the last one firing a few wild shots toward the pursuing officers before scrambling inside.

“Drive, drive, drive!” someone shouted, and the van jolted to life, screeching out of the alley and onto the main road.

The door slammed shut behind them, cutting off some of the chaos from outside, but the tension inside the van was suffocating. The vehicle swerved sharply as the driver pushed it to its limits, tires screeching with every turn.

You clung to one of the seat straps, your heart hammering in your chest as the robbers began shouting over each other.

“Did we get everything?”

“Almost—lost some time with the cops showing up so fast!”

“Who the hell tipped them off?”

“Shut up and focus!” Ni-ki’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding. The chatter immediately died down, all eyes turning to him.

Ni-ki was seated next to you now, his hand still on your arm, almost like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“Is everyone here? Anyone hurt?”

A few grumbled responses confirmed they were all accounted for, though one of the guys was cradling his arm, blood seeping through his sleeve.

“We’ll patch him up later,” Ni-ki muttered, his tone cold. “What matters is we got what we came for.”

The robbers nodded, some leaning back to catch their breath while others opened the bags to inspect their haul. You couldn’t help but glance at the glittering jewelry, thick wads of cash, and the gold bars.

Ni-ki caught you staring and leaned closer, his voice low so only you could hear. “Like what you see, doll?” he teased, his voice dripping with amusement.

You hesitated for a moment, but instead of denying it, you simply shrugged, your silence saying enough.

Without another word, he turned to the bag next to him, unzipping it with practiced ease. His hand disappeared inside before emerging with a dazzling diamond necklace.

“Hold still,” he murmured, as if this was just another casual moment between the two of you.

Before you could protest, he reached around and clasped the necklace around your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin. You froze, your breath hitching as the cool weight of the diamonds settled against your collarbone.

You looked at him, wide-eyed and unsure of what to say. But Ni-ki didn’t offer any explanation. “Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

The moment was broken by the distant wail of sirens, growing louder and closer with each passing second.

“Shit,” one of the robbers hissed, peeking through a small window at the back. “They’re gaining on us!”

Ni-ki’s demeanor shifted in an instant, he turned toward the driver. “Lose them. Now.”

The van jerked violently as the driver took a hard turn, sending you stumbling against Ni-ki. He steadied you with one arm, his other hand gripping the edge of the seat for balance.

“Keep your head down,” he ordered, his voice calm.

The other robbers were already arming themselves, checking their weapons and preparing for a potential standoff.

The deafening sound of gunfire erupted around you, each shot rattling through the van like a thunderclap. You flinched with every pull of the trigger, instinctively pressing your hands over your ears and squeezing your eyes shut.

The van swerved again, the sharp turn nearly throwing you off balance as you shrank further into yourself, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

A bullet shattered the rear window, glass spraying everywhere. You gasped, curling in on yourself as shards bounced off your shoulders. Ni-ki was immediately in front of you, shielding you with his body.

“Hey, focus on me,” he said, his voice somehow steady despite the chaos. His hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at him. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

You couldn’t speak, all you could do was nod.

Ni-ki’s hands dropped from your face as he turned away, grabbing a gun from one of the other robbers.

You barely had time to react before he moved to the back of the van, firing out of the shattered window with precise aim. The sound of his shots rang loud and clear, each one making you flinch.

You pressed your hands harder over your ears, squeezing your eyes shut again. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, and you couldn’t stop the panicked thought that ran circles in your mind: Why didn’t he just leave me at the bank?

It would have been so much simpler. You could have stayed behind, let the chaos unfold without you. But no—he had to drag you into this madness, handcuffed and helpless in the middle of a full-on gunfight.

The van swerved sharply again, and you were thrown to the side, hitting your shoulder against the cold metal wall. A small whimper escaped your lips, but no one seemed to notice—or care.

“Wolf, we can’t shake them!” someone yelled from the front.

“Then make a damn decision!” Ni-ki snapped back, his voice loud and authoritative. You peeked through your lashes, catching a glimpse of him leaning out of the window, gun in hand.

You wanted to scream at him, to yell that you didn’t belong here, that this wasn’t your fight. But all you could do was sit there, frozen and trembling.

Another gunshot—closer this time—shattered what was left of your composure. “Why didn’t you leave me?” you finally muttered under your breath, your voice shaking as tears slipped down your cheeks.

Ni-ki didn’t hear you, too focused on reloading his weapon. But when he glanced back and saw you curled in on yourself, trembling and tear-streaked, something shifted in his expression.

And that’s all it took. That single moment of distraction—the sight of you trembling—for a bullet to find its mark.

It hit Ni-ki in the shoulder, and he staggered back with a groan, clutching the wound tightly. “Fuck!” he hissed through gritted teeth, blood already seeping through his fingers.

You gasped, eyes widening as panic overtook you. “Ni-ki!”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, though the strain in his voice betrayed the pain he was in. His hand shot to his side, grabbing something from his vest. Before you could make sense of what was happening, he pulled the pin on a grenade and hurled it out of the shattered window.

The explosion came almost instantly, a deafening roar that rattled the van and shook the air around you.

The van swerved sharply as the driver cursed under his breath, but the maneuver worked—the sound of sirens began to fade, growing more distant with each passing second. The other robbers exchanged hurried words, but all you could focus on was Ni-ki as he moved toward you, his hand still pressed against his bleeding shoulder.

He groaned, slumping down beside you, his back against the van wall. “You good?” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with genuine concern.

You couldn’t answer at first, too overwhelmed by the chaos, the noise, and the sight of him injured. Finally, you managed a shaky nod. “I’m fine… but you—Ni-ki, you’re not okay!”

“Takes more than this to take me down, doll.” His words were cocky, but the way his jaw clenched betrayed how much pain he was in.

You reached out hesitantly, your hand hovering near his wounded shoulder. “Let me—”

“Nah,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “Not now. We’ll deal with it later.” He leaned his head back against the van, letting out a slow, shaky exhale.

His free hand reached out, fingers brushing against yours as he pulled your hand into his lap. “Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured. “I’m fine. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”

You frowned, “this isn’t normal, Ni-ki! You can’t just keep pretending like everything’s fine when you’re—when you’re bleeding!”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and a little strained. “It’s my life, sweetheart.” He squeezed your hand gently, his voice softening.

Your heart twisted at his words, torn between fear, anger, and before you could respond, another robber called out from the front.

“Wolf, you good back there?”

“Peachy,” Ni-ki shot back sarcastically, though his grip on your hand tightened. “Just keep driving.”

You stared at him, your thoughts racing. How did you end up here, with a criminal who acted like shielding you was his life’s mission? And why, despite everything, did you not want to let go of his hand?

Eventually, the van skidded to a stop at a checkpoint—a hidden clearing far from prying eyes. The robbers scrambled out with hurried precision, splitting up and dispersing into various vehicles parked nearby.

Ni-ki grabbed your hand, guiding you toward a sleek red car. You barely registered what was happening, still shaken from everything that had just unfolded. Another man wearing an old-man mask slid into the backseat, moving with practiced ease.

As soon as the doors shut, both men removed their masks. Ni-ki tossed his in the back and exhaled sharply, his jaw tight with pain. Without a word, he shrugged off his black jacket, revealing a plain black t-shirt underneath. Blood was already soaking through the fabric near his shoulder.

You watched in stunned silence as he grabbed a knife from the glove compartment and sliced through his jacket. With a strip of fabric in hand, he carefully wrapped it around his wound, hissing under his breath. His movements were efficient, no-nonsense, and all you could do was gape at him.

The man in the backseat—who had removed his mask to reveal a stern-looking face—reached down and slid a rifle under the seat. He glanced at you briefly, his expression unreadable, before settling back in his seat like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

“Seriously?” you finally found your voice, though it sounded weaker than you wanted it to. “You’re just going to—what—wrap up your bullet wound with a piece of jacket and act like it’s fine?”

Ni-ki didn’t look at you, focusing instead on tightening the makeshift bandage. “What else do you want me to do? Stop by a hospital?” His tone was sarcastic, but his eyes briefly flicked to yours, softening ever so slightly. “I’ll deal with it later.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “This is insane. You’re insane.”

He smirked, leaning back in the driver’s seat. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The man in the back snorted, muttering something under his breath about "lovers' quarrels."

Before you could respond, Ni-ki turned the ignition, the car roaring to life. He adjusted the rearview mirror, cast one last glance at the other vehicles scattering from the checkpoint, and then peeled out onto the empty road.

You sat there, trying to process everything, but your mind was in a wirlwind.

“You okay there in the back?” Ni-ki asked suddenly, glancing in the rearview mirror at the man in the backseat.

“Fine,” the guy grunted, leaning back with his arms crossed. “Clean getaway, but close. Too close.”

Ni-ki hummed in agreement, his focus shifting back to the road.

And then his eyes flicked to you, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You hanging in there, doll?”

You turned to him, your expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. “Do I look like I’m hanging in there?”

Ni-ki chuckled, his tone annoyingly casual. “Fair point.”

“Wolf,” the man in the backseat said, his voice low. “We’re not out of this yet. You know they’ll be looking for us.”

“I know,” Ni-ki replied, his tone hardening. “That’s why we keep moving.”

You slumped back in your seat, crossing your arms. The reality of the situation hit you again: you were in a getaway car with a wounded criminal and his armed accomplice.

It didn’t make sense. None of this did. And yet, here you were.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a dimly lit gas station, the engine idling for a moment before Ni-ki turned it off. The quiet of the night surrounded you, the soft hum of the station’s lights flickering above. Ni-ki’s boots tapped on the pavement as he got out of the car and made his way to the trunk. You watched in the rearview mirror, eyes tracing his every movement.

He popped open the trunk, rummaged around for a moment, and then pulled out a black leather jacket. He slid it on effortlessly, his movements confident and smooth, like he was getting ready for something important—something dangerous. As he adjusted the collar, he came back to the front of the car, meeting your eyes briefly.

“Need anything while I’m in there?” Ni-ki asked you.

You shook your head, the thought of asking for anything—food, water, anything—seemed trivial.

He didn’t wait for a second response, his gaze flicking to the guy in the backseat. The moment his eyes met the man’s, there was an unspoken warning.

Without another word, Ni-ki walked into the gas station, leaving you alone with the other guy in the back.

You stared out of the window, your thoughts racing, when you suddenly felt a shift in the air. The guy in the backseat shifted his weight, leaning forward slightly, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

Before you could react, he spoke.

“You’re pretty quiet for someone who’s been caught up in all this,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “But I get it. Must be hard to process, huh?”

You didn’t respond, choosing instead to keep your eyes trained on the rearview mirror. The sound of your cuffed hands clinking slightly as you moved didn’t escape his notice.

“Still wearing those, huh?” He let out a small, mocking chuckle, leaning even closer. “Ni-ki really knows how to treat a lady, doesn’t he? He’ll keep you close, but just remember, you’re still a prisoner in his little world.”

You stiffened, the words hitting you harder than expected. The guy’s tone was dripping with condescension, but you refused to let it show. You glanced over at him, your voice tight with anger.

“Don’t talk about him like you know anything.”

The man didn’t flinch at your words; in fact, he seemed to enjoy the reaction. “Oh, I know more than you think. But you don’t get it, do you? Ni-ki isn’t the kind of guy who plays nice with people who don’t fall in line.”

You felt your blood run cold at the implication, your hands instinctively tightening against the cuffs. You glanced at the rearview mirror again, but Ni-ki was still nowhere in sight. The sound of the man’s voice grew closer as he leaned even further forward.

“You’re just a tool to him, you know. Nothing more. The moment you stop being useful, you’re out.”

The harsh words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, your throat went dry. You swallowed, trying to shake the fear crawling up your spine. He had no idea what he was talking about.

“Don’t talk like that,” you managed to snap, trying to ignore the way your hands shook slightly, still cuffed together. “You don’t know a damn thing about me or Ni-ki.”

The man suddenly gripped your face, his fingers digging into your skin as he forced you to look at him. “You know, I could treat you so much better than Ni-ki ever will,” he sneered, his breath hot against your face.

Without a second thought, you punched him square in the jaw. The force of the blow made him stumble back slightly, and you spat out a curse. “Don't you dare touch me.”

The man was about to snap back, his eyes narrowing with rage, when suddenly the car door opened. Ni-ki slid into the driver's seat. The moment the man saw him, he shut his mouth, leaning back in his seat like nothing had happened, trying to act nonchalant.

But you saw the way the man's eyes flickered nervously, the tension in his body betraying the act. You shot him a glare, your heart still pounding from the confrontation.

Ni-ki didn’t even spare him a glance, his focus now on you. His hand rested on your thigh, his gaze flickering over you for a moment—like he was trying to read you.

After a long beat, he hummed softly, his hand leaving your thigh as he pushed open the door and got out of the car. You couldn’t help but watch him as he walked around the vehicle, his steps purposeful. The moment he opened the back door, the man scrambled out of the seat, a look of panic flashing across his face.

You couldn’t hear the conversation, but you could see them move behind the gas station. The man seemed to be pleading, his posture defensive, but Ni-ki didn’t look like he was in a mood for mercy.

You were left alone in the car.

Ni-ki returned after a few moments, his footsteps steady and calm. He slid into the car, his usual confident demeanor returning, though there was a faint trace of blood on his cheek. His eyes met yours before he leaned in toward you.

His hand was gentle as he gripped your jaw, pulling you closer, his lips pressing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. You found yourself melting into it, your hands moving to his shirt, gripping it tightly as his groan vibrated against your lips.

When he pulled back, his eyes were locked on your lips, a satisfied smile tugging at his features. "You know," he murmured, his voice husky, "all my colleagues are jealous. They all want you... but they can’t have you. None of them. Only me.”

How could you respond to that?

He leaned back in his seat, starting the car with a smooth motion, his attention shifting back to the road. The hum of the engine filled the quiet, but neither of you said anything more about what had just happened behind the gas station. You didn’t need to ask. You knew. You knew what he had done to the man.

--

Ni-ki drove through the city streets, eventually parking the car in a dark alley, the sound of the engine dying as he shifted into gear and stepped out. You followed, still trying to process everything that had happened in the past few hours.

As you stepped out of the car, he went straight to the trunk, opening it with a practiced motion. He pulled out two duffel bags and a backpack and slung them over his shoulder, his movements smooth and quick. Then, without a word, he grabbed a jacket from the backseat and carefully draped it over your cuffed hands, hiding the metal from sight.

His hand landed on your waist again, guiding you through the quiet alleyway, keeping you close. His steps were steady, but there was a quiet urgency to them as he led you down the darkened streets.

After a few moments, you arrived at a fancy-looking hotel, its glass doors reflecting the city lights. Ni-ki led you inside, the lobby quiet and elegant, far removed from the chaos that had happened just hours ago. He approached the check-in counter, exchanged a few words with the clerk, and before you knew it, you were on your way up to a suite in the elevator.

The doors slid shut with a soft chime, and you both stood there in the quiet, the only sound being the hum of the elevator as it ascended. You glanced at Ni-ki, his expression unreadable. There was no trace of the man who had shot, threatened, and manipulated the night away. Instead, he seemed almost... calm. It unsettled you, and yet, a part of you still couldn’t quite look away.

When the elevator finally stopped, Ni-ki led you out into a luxurious hallway, his grip on your waist firm but gentle. The suite was only a few doors down, and he opened it easily with a keycard. You stepped inside, blinking at the spacious room. Everything was sleek and modern—large windows that overlooked the city skyline, a plush bed, and a sitting area that seemed almost too extravagant for someone like you.

Ni-ki set the duffel bags down near the door and glanced at you. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, his tone softer now.

You hesitated for a moment before sliding the jacket off, your cuffed hands in full view. You motioned to them, silently asking him to remove the cuffs.

He looked at your hands, then back at you, his gaze steady. For a brief moment, you thought he might actually release you, but instead, he stepped closer. A slow smirk spread across his face as he leaned down slightly, his voice low and teasing.

"You look good like this," he said, his tone smooth and calculated. "You have no idea what I could do with you. How I could have you like this... decorated in jewels, money—everything you’ve ever wanted, and more."

Before you could react, he grabbed you by the waist and gently but firmly placed you on the bed, guiding you to lie down. Your breath caught as the soft mattress sank beneath you.

Ni-ki didn’t stop there. He unzipped one of the duffel bags, pulling out stacks of cash, and before you knew it, he was showering you with money, letting the crisp bills flutter down over you like confetti.

"Tell me," he murmured, looking down at you with a sly grin, "how does it feel?"

You lay there, surrounded by the fluttering bills, the sound of them settling around you filling the silence. For a moment, you didn't know how to respond. The situation felt so bizarre. Money. So much of it, heaped on top of you.

You looked up at Ni-ki, his gaze intense, waiting for a reaction. The teasing smirk still lingered on his lips, but there was something else in his eyes now, something more curious. He was watching you closely, almost studying your reaction.

You shifted slightly, the money crinkling beneath you. "It feels..." you began, unsure of how to describe the overwhelming mix of emotions.

Ni-ki leaned in closer, his voice soft but still carrying that edge of authority. "You can have all of it, you know. Everything you’ve ever wanted. All it takes is just you staying with me."

Your heart raced. His words, they hit differently, the weight of them sinking in as he brushed some of the money off you, letting his fingers linger along your arm, his touch light but possessive.

"You like it, don't you?" he murmured, almost as if daring you to admit it. "The power, the luxury, all of it... having anything you want given to you."

You blinked up at him, unsure if you should speak, if you could trust yourself to say the right thing.

"I—" You swallowed, still uncertain. "This isn’t just about the money, is it?"

Ni-ki chuckled softly, the sound warm but still filled with that underlying edge. "No, it’s not just about the money. It’s about everything. About me and you, how we could be, how I can make you want this... make you want me."

The way he spoke, the way he held you...

"I want you to trust me," he said, his hand now brushing over your cheek. "Just for now. Let go and let me take care of you."

You stared up at him, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts, but all you could do was nod. You watched as Ni-ki’s posture relaxed, his intense gaze softening for a second before he leaned down, you closed your eyes as his lips brushed against yours. The kiss deepened, and you felt your resistance slowly melt away.

Money was power, they said. And Ni-ki, with all his wealth and control, was offering you that power. He was right here, sharing it with you, giving you the kind of life that many could only dream of, for better or for worse.

You wanted to let go and let him guide you through it all. You hadn’t really realized how much you craved someone taking control until now, until Ni-ki.

Ni-ki pulled back slowly, both of you breathing heavily as the air between you shifted. His eyes never left yours, dark and intense, as he caught his breath. For a moment, everything was quiet, save for the sound of your racing heartbeats.

Then, he hooked a finger in the diamond necklace still resting on your neck, and you felt his gaze flicker down to it. "What should I put on you?" he muttered, more to himself than to you, as his lips traced the curve of your jaw. "Diamonds? Rubies? Or maybe faux fur..."

You couldn’t help but shiver as his words trailed off, his breath warm against your skin. His kisses were light at first, brushing over your collarbone, but soon they deepened, traveling slowly over your neck.

You let out a soft breath as Ni-ki's lips moved lower, his hands gently caressing your shoulders as if he were imagining what to adorn you with next. His words, playful yet possessive, lingered in your mind as he kissed down your skin, making your thoughts blur into one—his.

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Bold ones are untaggable* Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

[oreo-creampie]

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐠”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: incubus!sukuna, witch!reader (sukuna's only), monster fucking, double dick, fingering both holes, sukuna cums on you, sukuna's hand mouth and stomach mouth, dacryphilia, mocking, light pain kink (Sukuna’s only), double penetration (anal and cunt), sweet soft choso, reassuring and checking in if your ok, riding, choso has a dick piercing, size kink, daddy/beautiful/little witch, praise

𝐟𝐞𝐲: so after almost starting a bedroom fire with my laptop’s charger I have no laptop for the next however long. So after a lot of tears and some frustration then self care to calm my ass down here we are! Because AIN’T NOTHING GONNA BREAK MY STRIDE AIN’T NOTHING GONNA SLOW ME DOWN OH NO I GOT TO KEEP ON MOVING!!! Also I took Kento out because I’m just not that into him anymore 🤷🏽‍♀️ so it would come across passionless

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

“You’re lucky you're hot." The look of hunger in his eyes made it clear you'd invited a ravenous predator into your home. You want to be his breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert.

It's overwhelming the way Sukuna is fondling, biting, and stretching two of your tight, wet holes with his thick fingers. You're a toy in his large rough hands, laying beneath his massive muscular 8-foot tall stature.

He could easily rip you apart. The power imbalance turns you on as much as the sweet painful pleasure of his hands' mouth biting the soft squishy fat of your breasts. His warm tongues flicks your sensitive nipples. Pleasure and pain are becoming one and the same.

Thick tears trickle down the sides of your face. Sukuna’s smirk spreads, showing his sharp fangs. "You're being such a crybaby after having the audacity to summon me?" You can feel Sukuna's lust growing with your tears. His lust is heavy, intoxicating consuming, and hot, blurring the lines where your emotions lie.

Fucking three thick fingers into your squelching, quivering cunt. He remarks with a groan, "My little witch is an empath?” He has the excitement of someone opening a gift.

“Focus on my lust more, let it mix with your’s and drive you mad. I’ll fuck you till your body can’t keep up and you pass out." Closing his eyes, his jaw-dropping with a loud groan. Your sensitive cunt clenches from seeing his muscular body tremble over you through his large muscular body.

Looking down at you with more hunger than before. "You just keep tasting better." He's stroking your sensitive, puffy clit with his stomach’s tongue. "I can feel how close are as if I'm about to cum." It's getting harder to separate your lust from his. And you don't care to anymore.

The second you allow yourself to plunge into the deep end you're creaming. Squirting for the first time onto his thick fingers. "Feels-feels so gooood! Wanna keep cumming, gonna cum, wanna cum, gonnnnnn!” He groans fucking your spasming, squirting cunt through your peak.

Gliding his fingers out of your ass. Pushing down his pants, stroking one of his thick, tattooed veiny cocks. Urging thick white cum to shoot out onto your belly. "Lucky for you it takes a several times before my cocks go off. Heh I can’t believe you got me off just by cumming. You’re little cock sleeve body was meant for mine." Your eyes widen, your jaw dropping in disbelief. How are both supposed to fit?

Jerking your hips away in overstimulation as his tongue rubs your clit faster. He grabs your thighs firmly holding you in a mating press. "Did you think there would only be one?” He drags his fingers through his thick cum on your stomach.

No wonder he wanted to stretch you out with three fingers to loosen up both your holes. Yet it doesn't stop you from claiming, "You're too big, it's-" He stuffs his cum coated fingers into your mouth.

"Ok and?" He lines both cocks up with your holes, whilst tightening his grasp on your thighs to keep you from going anywhere. “Your slutty little holes are going to take me anyway, and I’m going to fuck them till you’re gapping.” Roughly rocking his hips forward, thrusting both cocks in. Both tips start with a soft round point making it easy for him to glide in.

He slips his fingers out of your mouth to hear your cries from the gradual stretch of his cocks. Getting thicker with each inch till it reaches the knot-like base. Your holes offer resistance too unable to take it just yet.

𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

Pushing his boxers down, you bite your lip tensing up beneath him. His pale thick veiny thick pierced cock is beautiful but intimidating. And ever since the first picture you’ve wonder how the warm metal is going to feel inside you.

Choso looks you over, concern etching into his handsome face. A wrinkle forming between his thin brows. His voice is gentle and comforting. “Is this ok? Do we need to stop and cuddle?” But your nervous bubble up all the same.

Glancing to the side, biting your bottom lip. He gently cups your cheek, swiping his thumb, trying to soothe your jumble nerves. You look into his loving purple eyes, the warmth and admiration within them captivating.

Breathing in filling your lungs then breathing out, "Youlookedtoobiginthosepictures." You had amassed a collection of pictures and videos showcasing his beautiful veiny cocky. From cum shot, to jerking off, to pre-cum dripping from his cock you had it all. You’ve gotten off to Choso more times than you care to count.

Refusing to let your nerves stop you now when you so close to having your first time with Choso. "I want you to fuck me, I'm just worried it won't all fit. Or that it will hurt. You’re so big Cho.” His cheeks flush pink, his dark eyes widen, biting into his bottom lip.

Choso leans down, kissing forehead. “How about you ride me beautiful? I’ll only move if you ask.” The answer is easy to give.

“Please daddy.” For the first time nickname slips out effortlessly. His compassionate, caring and understanding nature. Choso gently kisses you groaning loudly. The sound makes your cunt clench around nothing.

Whining aching to have your sensitive cunt filled up. Whilst your nerves trickle into excitement over just how big your boyfriend is. His broad chest and shoulders, well defined abs. His thick, sculpted arms, and muscular thighs. A thick, long heavy being cocks like his is suiting for his stature.

Parting your lips for him to glide his tongue past. Slipping your fingers into his soft, dark hair. He grabs your hips, squeezing your squishy hip’s crease.

Pressing his warm, thick cock to your soft, soaking wet cunt. Rutting his hips, rubbing his warm cock head on your sensitive clit. Breaking away, looking down at you wondering,

Choso is incredibly sexy with his hair down and messy. “Are you sure you want this beautiful?” Reaching between grabbing his cock lining him up. His eyes widen the second his fat head touches your quivering hole.

“Nnn I do! Want you so badly daddy!” Choso glides just the tip in his abs clenching as he restraints himself from thrusting deeper into you. Shifting your hips from the pleasurable stretch of his cock head gliding inside. You can feel the soft ridges line of his cock head slipping inside you.

“Darling, you’re so wet and soft.” Picking you up by your hips, without moving you on his cock Choso carefully switches positions. Placing you on top his lap, straddling his thighs, loosening his grasp on your hips.

Rocking your hips, focusing on the feeling is his warm cock head stretching your cunt. “That it’s beautiful, take your time taking Daddy’s big cock. You going so good. You feel so good!” He clenches your hips, digging his heels into the bed.

Getting used to being so split open, just his cock head alone feels too good. Rocking your back back, splaying your fingers on hus “Daddy! I wanna be stuffed full of your beautiful, thick cock.” Taking a little more, groaning as his warm barbell glides into you. Choso trembles, jerking his hips up.

Rubbing your clit, making your sensitive cunt clench. “Sorry beautiful. How are you feelinggnnnn!” You bounce your hips, gliding him in and down. The beautiful look of pleasure on Choso’s handsome face getting you off.

Moaning, “I’m so full of your cock daddy! It feels too good. Please move, slowly.” Planting his feet, gently guiding you with his hips. Gliding half his cock into you, letting your cunt get used to being so full before giving you another inch. Watching your expression for any hint of pain.

strawberry brat all works

“it’s too tight” toji, suguru, satoru & choso

[black-lake]

astro observations 11

your astro granny is back, I've been doing this for so long omg. some of it is venting, like always, so ignore that, but maybe don't you may find words of wisdom there. anyway, enjoy. also warning, it escalates to heavier subjects fast 🪐 🔭

 ——

🕰️ Virgo and gemini risings can pull off any type of glasses, sunglasses, bug-eye glasses, cat-eye, mirrored ray-bans, you name it. They even look cute with goggles no joke. They also make the smart and academia aesthetics look so cool and elegant in a chaotic way, not in a taurus capricorn way but in a- 'I spilled coffee on my boss's laptop this morning and I'm still talking about it way- because omfg- did you see the way they looked at me? it's like I've done it on purpose or smth but I didn't, not sure if they have a crush on me or they fucking hate me, what do you think? I'm pretty sure they don't hate me tho, but I can't tell, do you think I should quit?' 🎙️🎬

🕰️ I recently looked up George Clooney's chart and omggg, it all makes sense. The moon conj saturn in capricorn, giving him that nostalgic wise aura along his taurus sun, uranus and pluto opp ascendant kind of indicating finding his perfect partner later on in life, venus in aries and mars in leo, he's fiery but that fire so damn well contained with all the earth. His asc and jupiter in aquarius, yeah only an aquarius women with so much air and intelligence can maintain his attention and lock him in lmao. His synastry with Amal Clooney reminds of that of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively. Manifesting a relationship like this for everyone reading 🧘🏼‍♂️✨

🕰️ Personal planets in scorpio 10° or 22° is a sexy mf combo, esp moon, venus, mars and asc, it gives bedroom eyes and seductive domineer, also godmade bone structures. 🗿

🕰️ Pluto opposite or square ascendant, a very classic aspect for friends/coworkers/admirers/people in general turning enemies and talking shit behind your back. This aspect can easily make people speculate, overanalyze your actions, assume things, spread rumors and lies about you out of jealousy and intimidation. 

🕰️ Any planet conjunct the desc can bring the physical manifestation to that planet's shadow side, up to 10°. It can conceal traits of that planet in the sign it’s in, as it’s descending and escaping the sun’s light. Pluto on the desc brings a few shadow traits out of people and conceals their true intentions from the native. So the native has to face those traits, learn to see them from miles away, to discern what people’s intentions are and whether it's that or their own perception and fears. In other words, they start from naive to paranoid to bs detectors, and it takes a long painful journey to get there.

🕰️ Even tho personal planets on the desc are much easier to see and handle, venus on the descendant can bring shallow traits and empty promises out of people, mars on the descendant, not as easy, can bring out anger, toxic masculinity and aggression. Saturn on the desc can bring immaturity, irresponsibility, immoral and disloyal behaviors out of people, stagnation, delays in connection and loneliness, pushing the native to learn patience and endurance. The native will meet people with such traits over and over again until they learn to spot and discern them faster and take the right action. ☔️

🕰️ I’ll keep talking about it in this blog cuz it’s always been one of my biggest challenges. What I learned with pluto on the desc is that you will keep attracting the same kind of enemies to challenge you if you don’t own your power and stop diluting yourself for someone else's fragile power hungry ego, because people will have a problem with you anyway. Also don’t hold too tight to anyone, never be afraid to lose people, because trust me you will. Almost no one is meant to stay in your life, they’re meant to transform you and leave. The only thing you’re meant to rely on is your power and independence. The moment you see it the easier cutting ppl off becomes. 

🕰️ I have venus in aries and I find myself always having a girl crush on celebs with this placement, Rihanna, Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Elizabeth Taylor, Jennifer Aniston. They all seem to share that fiery independence mixed with a childlike but fierce demeanor which I admire, plus they never age. 🐈‍⬛

🕰️ I have mercury in aries and mars in scorpio, but for some reason I’m fascinated by people with mercury in aquarius and mars in sagittarius, with mercury in aqua I always expect something fascinating about their minds but I can't guess it cuz it's always different, but females with mars in sag omggg the sass is hilarious, I can’t help but laugh when they get blunt, loud and shady out of nowhere lmfao.

🕰️ Speaking of placements I’m fascinated by, what’s the deal with moon in taurus? I keep thinking it must be… nice.. to have? people that have it are so grounded and serene it makes me think it’s the best moon sign. If you have it please share the emotional difficulties you experience, because I can speak of every moon sign emotional traumas in detail but for some reason I be romanticizing this one. ☕️

🕰️ Another placement I really admire is moon conjunct saturn, there’s just something unspeakable, that isn’t tangible (even tho they have timeless mesmerizing eyes) but on a soul level I can sense their wisdom and nostalgic aura. It’s like there’s a balance of feminine and masculine qualities which come out in their mannerisms. People that have it, Timothée Chalamet, George Clooney, River Phoenix, and every hot man ever. 

🕰️ Have you ever asked yourself why Morgan Freeman has such deep unique and easily recognizable voice? It's his mercury conj uranus in taurus. Who else has an easily recognizable voice, Kim Kardashian, mercury conj uranus in scorpio. 

🕰️ Having the axis of virgo-pisces over your sun-moon, like virgo sun opposite pisces moon, or mercury-moon can give someone a soft voice, their voice can even be therapeutic and healing. Think of Michael Jackson's speaking voice.

🕰️ The hardest aspect in any chart for me are oppositions or squares to pluto, saturn and chiron. These are easily the most challenging aspects you can find in a chart.

🕰️ Those that have lilith/pluto in the 1st, 6th, 7th, 10th, 11th tend to have haters in their workplace, in groups or wherever they go often. It’s saddening but I’ve seen it a lot. Can also make ppl copy your style or attitude then hate on it, and never admit they got inspired by you.

-- potential triggers in the following one, pls skip if necessary.

🕰️ Difficult planets on the angles, saturn, pluto and chiron mainly can truly mess with someone's mental health to the point of them wanting to- yeah that. The most drastic effect is when they sit on the descendant and MC, since it deals with connections, groups of people and the public, a lot of it is outside of the native's control, and at times more than what they can handle. Their usually painful past experiences and memories has shaped their perception of the world to a dark and despairing one where they don't see a better future for themselves. A few examples, Kurt Cobain (chiron and saturn conj desc and pluto conj asc all tightly opposing), Mac Miller (chiron conj desc, saturn conj asc and pluto conj MC). Marilyn Monroe (chiron conj MC and saturn close to the IC, pluto conj nn). 

🕰️ I see every major astrological transit as a collective test, lesson and preparation for the next transit. It made sense that corona happened when pluto was in capricorn, a pandemic that restricted our freedom and made us prisoners in our own homes. There was a stellium of mars, jupiter, saturn and pluto all in cap the moment quarantine started in march. It was all about teaching us to respect societal rules and structures that keep us safe, whether it had to do with the government or the medical system, whether it was real or fake or real fake. Yes you have to give up some freedom for safety, that’s how surveillance and security cameras everywhere you go work, for your safety. 

🕰️ It taught us to care for the health of humanity, to live responsibly and respectfully when in crisis, even if that means compromising our freedom and limiting our movement. Trusting that the structure built over the past decades is somewhat reliable and helpful. We saw how some people put their own freedom above anything and anyone out of superiority, that's the selfishness we collectively needed to face before pluto moves to aquarius and we are given freedom we didn't learn how to appreciate or use responsibly. We had to learn the value of personal freedom vs discipline and structure.

🕰️ There are two planets I’ve seen repeatedly in people that manifest like magic, saturn and neptune. To add a third it would be uranus. Conjunctions and oppositions to these planets are like superpowers in manifesting your desired reality. All work in different ways. 

🕰️ For example people that have personal planets conjunct saturn (esp sun and moon) are easily attuned with the physical world and have some sort of control over time, turning it backwards or forwards, making themselves look younger and older at the same time, knowing the actions to take to bring anything into the three-dimensional world.

🕰️ Now this leads me to an astrology book I recently came across, the Alien Constructs the work of Edwin Steinbrecher and Stephanie Jourdan, discovering aspects that constitute an alien chart. The alien construct occurs when one of the outer planets, that is saturn, uranus, neptune or pluto, is conjunct or opposite the sun, moon, ascendant or the chart ruler. An individual that has one or few of these is different from other humans, they possess supernatural abilities, and typically have rough childhoods and adolescence.

🕰️ Every aspect with each of the outer planets has a unique ability, for example when the sun conjoins an outer planet it's called Power Alien Construct, the moon conjoining an outer planet is a Vessel Alien Construct, an outer planet conjoining the ascendant is an Instrument Alien Construct, an outer planet conjoining the descendant is a Shadow Alien Construct. Saturnian aliens are able to manifest things in the physical realm, plutonian aliens are masters of metamorphosis and irreversible change, uranian aliens are able to see the future and raise energetic frequencies. 

🕰️ Sun conjunct pluto is Plutonian Power, aliens are able to destroy that which is not built upon truth, understand the true nature of birth, sex, death and power, generate energy and power,  integrate polarities, perform psychic surgery, see beneath solid surfaces, shape-shift into animals, minerals or plants, heal utilizing sex, magnets or lasers.. etc. Moon conjunct uranus is a Uranian Vessel, aliens are able to comprehend the cycles and trends of the futures, safely corral erratic energy or electricity, channel high-frequency beings, telepath to imprisoned or trapped individuals or animals, sense the formation of inventions and innovations. Look it up, it's fun and tell me what alien construct are you and how you relate to it. oh it reminds me of a post I did a while back of aspects as superpowers.

Happy pluto in aquarius 🛰️✨ (will come back in years and see how this aged)

[pedroscowgirl]

Unleashing the wolverine

hugh jackman x female!reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut!

hugh is a sub in this, tied up, p in v , creampie (wrap it up), slight breeding kink (?), oral m!receiving, strawberry /claw play (idk), hugh just goes feral what can i say

words: 4.1k

summary: you bought a wolverine cosplay to seduce hugh and it's working

A/N: this is so freaky , my gosh i'm so down bad for this man and sub hugh is suddenly my weakness i also wanna say thank you for all your support <3 i appreciate it

Hugh and you were at the premiere of his latest Wolverine movie, and you loved every second of it. Every scene of Hugh in that iconic suit sent shivers down your spine. You had been a Marvel fan long before you met Hugh, and seeing your boyfriend in THE suit was a dream come true. The raw power and intensity he brought to the character left you mesmerized, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

As the night progressed and the credits rolled, you could hardly contain your excitement. You clung to Hugh’s arm as you both made your way through the crowd of fans and paparazzi, smiling for the cameras but secretly plotting something special. The idea had taken root in your mind the moment you saw him onscreen, and it grew stronger with each passing minute.

Back at your shared apartment, while Hugh was basking in the afterglow of a successful premiere, you quickly excused yourself and slipped into another room. You had a plan, and it required a little bit of secrecy. You fired up your laptop and found exactly what you were looking for: a high-quality Wolverine cosplay bodysuit. The thought of surprising Hugh in such a daring outfit made your heart race. You placed the order, ensuring it would arrive in time for your special night.

Days stretched into a week, each day filled with mounting anticipation. You carefully prepared for the special moment, ensuring every aspect was flawless. From the fit of the suit to the tiniest detail, you were determined to make this experience unforgettable for both of you.

When the package finally arrived, your excitement was evident. You could hardly contain your eagerness to set your well-thought-out plan into motion. That evening, after sharing a quiet, intimate dinner at home, you turned to Hugh with a knowing smile and told him you had a surprise for him. His curiosity was immediately piqued, and the gleam of excitement in his eyes was unmistakable.

You took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where you asked him to sit on the edge of the bed and close his eyes. He complied without hesitation, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he settled into position. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation, and you could feel your heart racing in sync with the thrilling moment.

With Hugh waiting expectantly, you slipped into the bathroom to change. You took the bodysuit out of its packaging, admiring the craftsmanship and detail. As you slid into the suit, you felt the fabric mold to your body, accentuating your curves in all the right places. The suit was a stunning replica of Wolverine's iconic costume, featuring the striking yellow and black design that made it instantly recognizable.

The fabric was smooth and form-fitting, designed to highlight every contour of your figure. You took your time, making sure every seam was aligned perfectly. The suit featured bold black stripes against the bright yellow background, creating a visually striking appearance. Each stripe was meticulously placed, enhancing the overall effect and making you look fierce and formidable.

To complete the look, you had equipped yourself with some claws. These claws were a work of art in themselves, crafted to look exactly like Wolverine's adamantium claws. They extended from the back of your hands, glistening under the bathroom light. You flexed your fingers, feeling the weight and balance of the claws. They were securely attached, giving you the confidence to wield them with authority.

Satisfied with your transformation, you took a deep breath and checked yourself in the mirror one last time. The reflection staring back at you was powerful and fierce, embodying the spirit of Wolverine. Every detail was perfect, from the vivid colours of the suit to the menacing glint of the claws.

You stepped out of the bathroom, heart pounding with excitement. Hugh was still sitting on the bed, eyes closed, waiting patiently for the surprise you had promised. You walked towards him, the sound of your footsteps causing his smile to widen in anticipation.

"Okay, open your eyes," you said softly.

Hugh opened his eyes, and his jaw dropped in amazement. The look of surprise and admiration on his face was everything you had hoped for. He took in the sight of you, from the top of your head to the tips of your claws, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

"You look incredible," he said, his voice filled with awe.

You struck a playful pose, flexing your claws and giving him a fierce, determined look. "Ready to take on anything," you replied with a wink.

Hugh stood up and walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached out and gently touched the claws, marvelling at their craftsmanship. "This is amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You smiled, feeling a rush of pride and satisfaction. All your preparation and attention to detail had paid off, and the look on Hugh's face made it all worth it.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in your mind, adding a touch of sensual indulgence to the already thrilling moment. You turned to Hugh with a playful grin and whispered, "Wait right here." His curiosity was piqued once more, his eyes following you as you sauntered out of the bedroom and made your way to the kitchen.

You opened the fridge and found the decadent treat you had prepared earlier: a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries. Each berry was perfectly dipped, the glossy chocolate coating promising a burst of sweetness. You carefully picked up the plate, balancing it effortlessly despite the claws extending from your hands.

Returning to the bedroom, you saw Hugh's eyes light up with curiosity and desire. You set the plate down on the bedside table, ensuring it was within easy reach. With a seductive smile, you picked up a strawberry using the tip of your claw, the delicate fruit held securely by the metal extension.

You approached Hugh, the gleam of the claws catching the light, adding a mesmerizing allure to the scene. His eyes were locked on you, filled with anticipation and a growing hunger. Slowly, you brought the chocolate-covered strawberry to his lips, teasing him with its sweet aroma.

"Open wide," you purred, your voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine.

Hugh parted his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. You gently guided the strawberry into his mouth, the chocolate melting slightly from the warmth of his breath. As he bit into the succulent fruit, his eyes fluttered closed, savouring the rich flavors. The combination of the sweet chocolate and juicy strawberry was intoxicating, heightening the intimate moment between you.

You watched him with a sultry gaze, the sight of him enjoying the treat sending waves of excitement through your body. The feel of the claw in your hand added an extra layer of sensuality to the act, making it both daring and erotic. You reached for another strawberry, repeating the tantalizing process, each bite deepening the connection between you.

The atmosphere in the room grew warmer, charged with a potent mix of desire and anticipation. Feeding Hugh the strawberries with your claws was an intimate dance, a blend of power and delicacy that left both of you breathless. His eyes darkened with lust as he looked up at you, the chocolate smudged slightly on his lips, adding to his irresistible allure.

Unable to resist, you leaned down and kissed him, your lips capturing the remnants of chocolate and strawberry from his mouth. The taste was sweet and electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure through you both. Hugh's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, the line between fantasy and reality blurring into pure, unadulterated passion.

With each chocolate-covered strawberry, the heat between you and Hugh intensified, building to an almost unbearable level. The tantalizing act of feeding him with the claws heightened every sensation, every glance exchanged between you filled with unspoken desire.

After savouring the last strawberry, you set the plate aside, your focus entirely on Hugh. The moment stretched into something palpable, charged with anticipation. You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his, tasting the lingering sweetness of chocolate and strawberries. The kiss deepened, your tongues dancing together in a passionate, slow rhythm that sent waves of heat through your bodies.

Your hands moved to his chest, feeling the strong muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. With deliberate slowness, you began unbuttoning his shirt, each movement filled with sensual intent. Hugh’s breath quickened, his eyes darkening with lust as you exposed more of his skin. Once the last button was undone, you slid the shirt off his shoulders, your fingers trailing down his arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With a swift yet gentle motion, you pushed him onto the bed, his eyes widening in a mix of surprise and excitement. He looked up at you, the raw desire in his gaze making your heart race. His hands reached out, but you stopped him with a teasing smile, pressing his hands back onto the bed.

Your fingers deftly moved to the waistband of his pants, undoing the button and zipper with practiced ease. You tugged the pants down, revealing the growing evidence of his arousal. Hugh smirked, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his eagerness.

"Enjoying yourself?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

"More than you know," you replied, your voice a sultry whisper as you discarded his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You crawled onto the bed, positioning yourself above him. Your fingers traced over the defined lines of his torso, every touch igniting sparks of pleasure. Hugh’s hands moved to your hips, guiding you closer. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, the thin fabric of his boxers doing little to hide his need.

Leaning down, you kissed him deeply, your lips exploring his with a hunger that matched his own. Your bodies pressed together, the heat between you almost unbearable. You could feel the claws still attached to your hands, adding an edge of danger and excitement to every movement.

With a wicked grin, you trailed your claws lightly down his chest, careful not to scratch, but just enough to leave a tingling sensation in their wake. Hugh shuddered beneath you, his hands gripping your hips tighter, pulling you even closer.

"Do you like that?" you whispered against his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"Yes," he groaned, his voice barely more than a breathless rasp.

You smiled, satisfied with his response. Your hands moved lower, teasing the waistband of his boxers before slipping them off entirely. Hugh's breath hitched as he was fully exposed to you, his arousal evident and demanding attention.

You leaned down, kissing a trail from his neck to his navel, taking your time to explore every inch of his skin. Hugh's hands tangled in your hair, his body arching towards you, desperate for more. You revelled in the control, the power of driving him wild with desire.

As you moved back up, your eyes locked with his, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. You positioned yourself above him, feeling the heat radiating between you.

With each passing moment, the air grew thicker with desire. Straddling Hugh, you could feel the electric connection between you intensifying. Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the rapid beat of his heart. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a deep, passionate kiss, your bodies pressed intimately together.

As the kiss broke, you reached over to the bedside table, retrieving the silk ties you had prepared for this very moment and throwing away the claws. Hugh’s eyes widened with anticipation as you took his wrists, guiding them above his head to the headboard. His breath quickened as you tied the silk around his wrists, securing him to the bed. The knots were firm yet comfortable, giving him no room to escape, yet ensuring he was safe and unhurt.

Hugh tested the bindings, a smile of pure excitement playing on his lips. "I like where this is going," he murmured, his voice laced with anticipation and hunger.

You grinned down at him, your own excitement mirrored in his eyes. "Just wait," you whispered, your voice dripping with promise.

Settling back onto his hips, you felt his arousal pressing against you through the thin fabric of your suit. Hugh’s eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail of the Wolverine costume that hugged your curves so perfectly. His gaze was hungry, filled with a potent mix of lust and admiration.

"Are you gonna take the cosplay off and ride me, babygirl?" he asked, his voice thick with desire.

You shook your head slightly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "No," you replied softly, your voice seductive and firm. "You just lay there and enjoy. I’m going to do my thing, and I’m keeping this on."

Hugh groaned, his arousal growing at your words. He tugged slightly at his bindings, his muscles flexing in a way that made your pulse quicken. "I can’t wait," he said, his voice a husky whisper.

You moved lower, your body sliding sensually down his. Your lips left a trail of kisses along his chest and abdomen, each touch eliciting shivers of pleasure from him. As you reached his hips, you glanced up at him, your eyes locking with his. The intensity of his gaze, filled with raw need, sent a thrill through you.

With deliberate slowness, you kissed your way down his pelvis, your breath hot against his skin. You could feel his muscles tensing beneath your touch, his anticipation was to die for. Gently, you took his length in your hand, feeling the hardness and heat of him. You stroked him slowly, savouring the feel of him in your grasp.

Hugh’s breath hitched, and he bit his lip, his eyes dark with desire. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Smiling, you lowered your mouth to him, your lips parting to take him in. The first touch of your mouth against him drew a sharp intake of breath from Hugh, his head falling back against the pillows. You began with gentle, teasing licks, your tongue swirling around the sensitive tip before taking him deeper into your mouth.

The sensation was exquisite, the taste of him mingling with the lingering sweetness of the strawberries. You moved slowly at first, your mouth and hand working in perfect harmony. Each movement was deliberate, designed to drive him wild with need. Hugh's hips bucked slightly, but he was helpless to do more than that, his hands pulling at the silk ties in a desperate attempt to touch you.

"God, that feels so good," he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure.

Encouraged by his response, you increased your pace, taking him deeper with each movement. Your hand stroked the base of his shaft, while your mouth worked the rest of him. You hollowed your cheeks, creating a delicious suction that had him gasping for breath. The sounds of his pleasure filled the room, each moan and gasp spurring you on.

Hugh's eyes were closed, his face contorted in a mix of pleasure and frustration. The sight of him so undone, so utterly at your mercy, fuelled your own desire. You varied your technique, sometimes moving slowly to tease him, other times quickening the pace to drive him closer to the edge.

His hips began to move in rhythm with your mouth, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I can't hold on much longer," he groaned, his voice filled with desperate need.

You didn't let up, your mouth and hand working together to bring him to the brink. The taste of him, the feel of his hardness, the sounds of his pleasure, all of it combined to create an intoxicating experience. You knew he was close, and you wanted to give him the release he so desperately craved.

With a final, deep thrust into your mouth, Hugh cried out, his body tensing as he came. You took him in fully, savouring the taste and feel of his release. His body shuddered with pleasure, his hands straining against the bindings as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

As he lay there, breathless and spent, you slowly released him from your mouth, kissing your way back up his body. His eyes opened, meeting yours with a look of pure, sated satisfaction.

"You’re amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

The room was charged with an electric tension, the air thick with the aftermath of Hugh's intense release. But being the man he is, Hugh had come prepared for a night of unparalleled pleasure. Earlier, he had taken some pills designed to enhance his stamina and increase his cum production. This little game was far from over, and his great stamina meant he was ready for another round.

As you lay beside him, catching your breath, you noticed the gleam in his eye and the way his body responded so quickly to your presence. His arousal had already returned, his erection pressing insistently against your thigh. The sight of him, so eager and ready, made you laugh softly with a mix of delight and anticipation.

Hugh looked at you, a playful yet serious expression on his face. "Ride my dick, baby," he said, his voice a low, seductive growl. "I promise I won't break out of these ties and fuck you hard. I'm just gonna let you do your thing."

His words sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. The control, the power, the sheer eroticism of the moment was intoxicating. You straddled him again, feeling the heat of his arousal against your core. With deliberate slowness, you moved the fabric of your Wolverine bodysuit aside, exposing yourself to him. The cool air against your bare skin heightened your senses, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

Hugh's eyes darkened with lust as he watched you, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He was helpless to do anything but watch, bound and at your mercy. The sight of his straining erection, glistening with precum, sent a wave of desire through you.

You positioned yourself over him, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you. The sensation was exquisite, the perfect blend of pleasure and fullness. You moaned softly, your hands resting on his chest for balance as you took him in inch by inch.

Hugh groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his eyes closing in bliss. "Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured, his voice thick with need.

Once he was fully inside you, you paused for a moment, savouring the feeling of being completely connected to him. His cock twitched inside you, his body responding to the intimate embrace of your core. You began to move, slowly at first, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through both of you.

The sight of Hugh beneath you, his muscles straining against the ties, his face contorted in pleasure, drove you wild. You increased your pace, riding him with more intensity, your movements fluid and deliberate. Each thrust sent sparks of ecstasy through your body, the friction of his cock against your inner walls driving you closer to the edge.

Hugh's eyes opened, locking onto yours, filled with raw, unfiltered desire. "God, you're so sexy," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly in response to your movements.

You leaned forward, your breasts brushing against his chest, your lips capturing his in a searing kiss. The kiss was deep, passionate, a melding of tongues and breath that left you both gasping. You could feel his hands straining against the silk ties, his desire to touch you evident in every flex of his muscles.

Breaking the kiss, you sat back up, riding him harder, your moans filling the room. The sensation of his cock sliding in and out of you, combined with the sight of his helpless arousal, pushed you to new heights of pleasure. You could feel your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your core, ready to explode.

Hugh's hips met yours with every thrust, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. "Fuck, I'm so close," you gasped, your movements becoming more frantic, more desperate.

As you and Hugh neared the peak of your mutual orgasm, the intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming. Your bodies were locked in a passionate rhythm, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. The sensation of him deep inside you, filling you completely, was pushing you to new heights of ecstasy.

Just as the wave of your orgasm began to crest, you felt a sudden surge of strength from Hugh beneath you. With a powerful, almost primal roar, he broke free from the silk ties that had held him to the headboard. His hands, large and strong, flew to your Wolverine cosplay. In one swift, forceful motion, he ripped the fabric apart, the sound of tearing material mixing with your own cry of surprise and pleasure.

The suddenness of his action made you gasp, a scream of both shock and arousal escaping your lips. His hands immediately found your back, pulling you closer to him, his grip possessive and tender all at once. The exposed skin of your back tingled under his touch, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

Without missing a beat, Hugh took your nipple into his mouth, his lips and tongue working it with expert precision. The combination of his hot mouth on your sensitive skin and the deep thrusts of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you drove you wild. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you rode him harder, spurred on by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"Yes, just like that," he growled around your nipple, his voice a deep, throaty rumble that vibrated through you. "You're so fucking perfect."

His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, helping you move even faster, even harder. The friction, the heat, the raw passion of the moment were too much to bear. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Your body convulsed around him, your inner walls clenching and pulsing as you cried out his name.

Hugh wasn't far behind. With a guttural moan, he thrust up into you one final time, his release surging through him. You felt the hot rush of his cum filling you, the sensation intensified by the knowledge of his enhanced stamina from the pills. He held you tight against him, his mouth still working your nipple, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm.

For a moment, the world stood still, the only sounds in the room your mingled breaths and the faint echo of your shared cries. You were both drenched in sweat, your bodies glistening in the soft light of the room. Slowly, as the intensity of the moment began to fade, Hugh's grip on you relaxed, his hands smoothing over your back in gentle, soothing strokes.

He kissed you softly, his lips trailing over your skin, starting at your collarbone and moving up to your neck, your jaw, and finally capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with emotion. "You're amazing. I'm so lucky to have you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and satisfaction. "I love you too," you whispered back, your fingers gently tracing the lines of his face. "That was incredible."

Hugh chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll definitely have to pay you back for that Wolverine cosplay," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. "I might have gotten a little carried away."

You laughed, the sound light and joyful, the perfect release after such an intense experience. "It's worth it," you replied, kissing him again, savoring the taste and feel of him.

He held you close, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "You're worth everything," he murmured, his lips brushing over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

As you lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the sweat cooling on your bodies, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The night had been everything you had hoped for and more, and you knew that this was just the beginning. With Hugh by your side, every moment was filled with passion, love, and the promise of endless possibilities.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 2

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, smut, spoiled! oc, jk, big c! jk, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist : comment if yall wanna be added

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

It had been a week and a half since the group project began, and we only had two days left before we were supposed to present. I couldn't believe how fast the deadline was approaching. Surprisingly, Jungkook and I had managed to get along a little better in the past few days, although our relationship was still complicated. There was definitely more tension between us—lots of bickering over small details in the project, but there was also something else. A weird undercurrent of sexual tension seemed to creep into our interactions, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

We were in class, and the professor was droning on about something I wasn't paying much attention to. My mind wandered, thinking about how we were going to pull everything together in just two days. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. Curious, I glanced down at my screen under the table to see who had texted me. It was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hey, princess. Got any plans after class?

I rolled my eyes, my lips curling into a small smirk. Of course, he couldn't just ask normally. I typed a quick response.

Y/N: Not unless you're counting trying to save our sorry excuse for a project.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: Touché. How about we finish it at my place? You, me... Namjoon. Group work, you know?

Y/N: Why at your place?

Jungkook: Because my place is more fun. And I can make you a proper coffee. You know you want to.

Y/N: Fine. But this better be about the project and nothing else.

Jungkook: Can't promise that ;) See you after class.

I shook my head at his winking emoji but couldn't deny the tiny thrill that ran through me. Whether it was the impending deadline or something else, the air between Jungkook and me had been charged with an underlying tension lately. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was becoming harder to brush off.

Once we settled in Jungkook's place, the tension between us was unbearable. It had been building for days, and now, in the quiet of his living room, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn't take back.

Jungkook sat next to me on the couch, his casual demeanor masking the intensity in the air. I opened my laptop, pretending to focus on the project, but my mind was far from it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when his hand casually drifted to rest on my thigh again, I froze.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he wasn't fully paying attention to his own words but to the way my body tensed at his touch.

I forced myself to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "wow. you suddenly care about my wellbeing now?"

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin that always seemed to piss me off. "What? Can't a guy ask a simple question?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze back to the screen. "Yeah, I ate. Did you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, not removing his hand, his fingers starting to gently trace little patterns on my thigh. "Just making sure you're not starving before we start working."

I bit my lip, trying to focus, but every nerve in my body was screaming at me to pay attention to his touch. His fingers were moving now, grazing my skin in slow, deliberate strokes, each one lighting a fire in my core.

I couldn't take it anymore. 

The tension, 

his hand, 

his stupid smirk

—it was all too much. I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling with barely concealed frustration. Before I could think about what I was doing, 

I grabbed his face and crashed my lips onto his.

The kiss was messy,

 desperate, fueled by all the frustration and tension that had been boiling over between us for weeks. He responded immediately, his hand tightening on my thigh, pulling me closer as he kissed me back just as fiercely. His other hand tangled in my hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered except the way his lips moved against mine.

In between the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction, enough to murmur, "Thought you hated me."

I barely registered his words, my breath coming in short, heavy pants. "I do," I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and something else. "I think."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he leaned back in, his hand now traveling up my side, slipping under my shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, as if he was testing just how far he could push before I stopped him. But I didn't stop him. I couldn't. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent shivers through my entire body, and I leaned into him, craving more.

His lips were on mine again, but this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, like we were savoring every second of this moment. His hand moved higher, grazing the edge of my bra, and I let out a quiet whimper, the sound muffled against his mouth.

"Still think you hate me?" he teased between kisses, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw.

I tried to answer, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess, lost in the haze of his touch and the overwhelming heat building inside me. Instead, all I could manage was a shaky, "Shut up."

Jungkook grinned against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as his hand slipped further under my shirt, his fingers ghosting over my breast. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and full of that damn cockiness, "I'm not even doing anything, and you're already..... horny?."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but the way his hand felt on me, the way his lips moved against my skin, it was impossible to think straight. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him to stop...or maybe to tell him not to stop, but before I could, 

I heard the sound of the door opening.

Panic shot through me, and I jerked away from him, pulling my shirt back down and scrambling to sit up straight. Namjoon had just walked in, completely oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room.

Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, leaning back casually with a smug grin on his face, like he was savoring the fact that he had completely undone me in a matter of minutes. He rubbed his lips with his thumb, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched me try to pull myself together.

Namjoon, blissfully unaware of what he'd just interrupted, smiled and waved as he set his bag down. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Uh, it's fine," I mumbled, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I avoided Jungkook's gaze. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened—or what almost happened.

Jungkook finally sat up, stretching lazily as he glanced at Namjoon. "We were just getting started," he said, his tone casual, though the smirk on his face told me he was still very much enjoying the moment.

Namjoon nodded, pulling out his laptop. "Cool, let's get to work then."

I shot a glare at Jungkook, who only grinned wider, clearly reveling in the fact that I was still flustered. And as much as I wanted to punch him, I couldn't deny the way my body still buzzed from his touch.

This was going to be a long night.

As the three of us sat around Jungkook's living room table, trying to focus on the project, I couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between us. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on me, and it didn't help that Jungkook kept sending me these playful glances when Namjoon wasn't looking.

We were supposed to be reviewing some notes Namjoon had brought, but my attention was elsewhere. Namjoon was talking animatedly about his ideas, while I pretended to follow along, nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Jungkook, who sat way too close for comfort on my other side, started to shift, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

I froze for a second, my heart racing, but I didn't move. I didn't pull away. Instead, I shot him a quick look out of the corner of my eye. He glanced back, smirking, and then, without warning, his hand slipped under the table and onto my thigh again.

This time, though, it wasn't innocent.

His fingers began to creep higher, just brushing the hem of my skirt. I tensed up, glancing at Namjoon, who was completely focused on the work in front of him. Jungkook's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey under my skirt, and I couldn't help the way my breath hitched.

I should've stopped him. I should've pushed his hand away, but I didn't. My body reacted on its own, allowing him to continue as my heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy as Namjoon droned on about the project.

Jungkook's fingers slowly rubbed my clothed clit, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress a gasp. I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping Namjoon wouldn't notice. Jungkook, of course, noticed everything. He leaned in just a little closer, whispering softly, "You okay?"

I shot him a glare, though it lacked any real conviction. He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the fact that I was letting him get away with this. His hand traveled higher, pushing my panties to the side enough for him to enter. 

i then let out a slight whimper catching their attention. jungkook smirking as he inserts another finger into me "are you okay y/n?" namjoon asks concerned about me "a-ahh no no..haha i-i stubbed my toe" i tried to reply as i was unable to talk normally. the pleasure was too good. 

now i know why girls love to throw themselves at jungkook

i held onto jungkooks shirt tightening my grip as i felt my orgasm being near. jungkook sensed it as my walls then starts to tighten around his fingers, he then fastened his pace, making my heart race faster. he then looks at me as i struggle, biting my lips trying not to make any sounds but my legs were shaking. 

i finally came. my white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out making a 'plop' sound. 

i breathed heavily trying to pull myself together as i lick my lips, turning to jungkook watching him as he licks his fingers, cleaning my cum that was on his fingers.

once we were done with our study session Namjoon stood up to leave, an awkward silence settled in the room for a brief second. He gathered his things, explaining something about a school board meeting that he couldn't miss. I nodded along, thankful for the distraction from the tension that had been building between Jungkook and me for the past hour. Jungkook, on the other hand, remained calm, though I could sense the playful energy still simmering beneath the surface.

Namjoon finally said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. The silence between Jungkook and me felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything we weren't saying. I didn't dare look at him at first, knowing that the second I did, we wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

i then got up from the couch as i got on his lap, ruffling and playing with his hair. i tilt my head keeping eye contact with him giving him a smile as his hands starts travelling it's way to undo my bra until my phone suddenly rang distrupting our moment. 

i got up to get my phone and it's hoseok. 

i answered the call but jungkook took it 

"hey y/n where are you?" hoseok asks concerned as it has already been past 6 pm.

"she's with her boyfriend" jungkook answers making me shook my head in panic as i try to get my phone from him "what the fuck jungkook!" i got up on him trying to get the phone as i heard hoseok mutter "what the fuck is happening" on the phone. "kiss first" jungkook points at his lips hinting me to kiss him. 

and without hesitation i kissed him. i pull away looking at him in the eye as i spoke softly "can i get my phone now?" "say please" he replies making me annoyed. "can i please get my phone now?" i answered him as he slowly gave me the phone giving a cocky grin.

i yanked the phone from him a little bit harsh but i was already annoyed. 

"hey hoseok? i'm sorry that was jungkook" i said  awkwardly

"i was right then?" he asks 

"huh?"

"you like him do youuu??" he teases 

"hell nah what the fuck" i shook my head

jungkook then interrupts and yell on the phone "says the girl who kissed me and wanted to make out with me!" i hit jungkooks shoulder playfully as hoseok on the phone "omygod!! jimin and jin has to know about this bye!!" 

"wait hoseok no-" before i could speak hoseok ends the call.

"what the fuck?" i said to him annoyed 

"sorryyy princess" he gives me a peck on the cheek and points at his hard bulge

"i made you cum and i didn't get to cum" he pouts 

"my precious pussy doesn't deserve a cock that goes in other pussies that we don't even know it clean. maybe stop fucking other girls and i'll let you, hm?" i cup his face as i answered softly 

i then sat down on the couch to relax, closing my eyes, i couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today with jungkook.

After everything that happened, Jungkook broke the silence with a smirk, his usual confidence returning. "Let me take you home," he offered, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, on my bike."

"Sure," I said, keeping my voice steady, though internally I was anything but calm.

As we walked out of his house and towards his bike, I could feel the unspoken tension between us, a silent reminder of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. Jungkook handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the bike.

"You sure you trust me on this thing?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his helmet.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. "Just don't kill me, Jeon," I said, slipping the helmet on.

Jungkook chuckled before straddling the bike. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, patting the seat behind him. "Hop on."

I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The moment my body pressed against his back, I could feel the firm muscles under his shirt, the warmth radiating from him. I mentally cursed myself for feeling flustered by something as simple as a bike ride, but there was no denying the electricity that sparked between us. The memory of his hands on me, his lips, kept flashing in my mind. God, what had happened to me?

As soon as the engine revved to life, the city streets blurred past us, and I tightened my grip on Jungkook. The wind whipped around us, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth of his body. My chest was pressed firmly against him, my heart pounding in my ears, and I couldn't help but bury my face into his back. Being this close to him, especially after everything that had just happened, made it hard to think straight.

The ride home was both exhilarating and maddening. Every second, I was hyper-aware of how close we were, the subtle movements of his body as he steered the bike, the way my arms tightened around him with every turn. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and the adrenaline only added to the charged atmosphere. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want the ride to end.

But all too soon, we pulled up in front of my house. Jungkook parked the bike, cutting the engine, and I reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the seat. My legs were a little unsteady, whether from the ride or the emotions swirling inside me, I wasn't sure. I pulled off the helmet, my fingers brushing through my hair as I handed it back to him.

As soon as Jungkook and I stepped through the front door, my mom, ever the gracious host, immediately beamed at Jungkook, practically pulling him inside with an invitation to stay for tea. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her, but before I could even process that, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Hoseok, from the living room.

"Y/N! Guess what? I found—oh..." Hoseok's words trailed off when he saw Jungkook behind me, his eyes widening in surprise. His playful grin faltered for a second, replaced by curiosity as he glanced between the two of us. "Wait, what's going on here? You're bringing home the infamous Jeon Jungkook?"

I shot Hoseok a warning look, but he only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Of course, he would be staying over tonight. Hoseok was practically family at this point—my mom loved him, and he often stayed over when he was in town. I should have known he'd be here, lounging on the couch like he owned the place.

Before I could answer, my mom jumped in, leading Jungkook toward the living room, where she immediately started gushing over him. "Oh, it's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends from school! She never brings anyone home. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook chuckled softly, giving my mom his signature charming smile. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too."

I could see my mom's eyes light up at his politeness, and I mentally groaned, knowing she was going to absolutely love him by the end of the night. Great, just what I needed—my mom falling for Jungkook's charm.

While my mom was busy fawning over him, I made my way over to Hoseok, who was sitting on the couch with an overly dramatic grin plastered on his face. The moment I sat down next to him, he leaned in, lowering his voice.

"So... you and Jungkook, huh?" Hoseok's tone was dripping with playful curiosity. "Did I just sense some serious tension there, or am I imagining things?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act casual, though I could feel my cheeks warming up. "It's nothing. We're just working on a group project together."

Hoseok snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, sure. A group project. Is that what we're calling it now? What happened, huh? Did you two—" He paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, don't tell me you guys really kissed."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Hoseok. I didn't need to say anything; the look on my face was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Hoseok gasped dramatically, his voice dropping even lower. "You did kiss! Oh my god, Y/N! I knew there was something going on between you two."

I nudged him with my elbow, whispering harshly, "Will you keep it down? My mom's right there."

Hoseok grinned, completely unbothered by my attempt to hush him. "How was it? Was it good? Was it like... you know, fireworks?"

I shot him a look. "Hoseok, seriously, now is not the time."

But Hoseok, being the relentless best friend he was, wasn't about to drop it. He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, spill the tea. I've got to know. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay quiet."

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to let this go. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "We kissed. "

Hoseok's grin widened. "And? How was it? You can't just say it happened and leave me hanging."

I glanced over at Jungkook, who was still talking with my mom, oblivious to the conversation Hoseok and I were having. "It was...something. he uhh you know?" i glanced down at my bottom area hinting him what had happened

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "OMYGOD! So, like... good or bad?"

I gave him a pointed look. "What do you think?"

Hoseok let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Jeon Jungkook. Who would've thought? The bad boy and the good girl. This is like some kind of drama."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Please, don't make this a thing."

"Oh, it's already a thing, Y/N," Hoseok teased, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're in deep now."

I glared at him, though I couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible."

Hoseok just laughed, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook walked over, finally free from my mom's grasp. He glanced at me and Hoseok, a curious look in his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze briefly meeting mine before flicking away.

"You guys talking about something interesting?" Jungkook asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of playfulness there.

Hoseok, of course, jumped on the opportunity. "Oh, nothing much. Just talking about how Y/N never brings anyone home. Guess you must be special, Jungkook."

I shot Hoseok a look, silently telling him to shut up, but he just grinned back at me, enjoying every second of this.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said, his tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my face again. "Hobi, don't you have something else to do?"

Hoseok shrugged, standing up from the couch with a stretch. "Nah, I think I've caused enough trouble for one night. I'll leave you two to... whatever it is you're doing."

I watched as he sauntered off, but not before giving me a wink. I let out a breath, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation that would come from him later. But for now, I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who was still watching me with that same playful glint in his eyes.

"So," Jungkook said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You really couldn't stop talking about me, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "Don't get cocky, Jeon."

But he just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "Too late."

[tan1shere]

Breathe

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: it's 3 am and I just thought of this. This is so rare for Ms tann to have motivation omg. Anyways enjoy !

Summary: you had been working yourself to the bone, flat out. Causing your girlfriend to worry about you.

Warnings: bit angsty, reader is stressed, panic attack, but fluffy ending MUAH

Masterlist

Frantic.

Your movements were frantic your whole brain was frantic. Speeding up with what you had to get done. It's as if time crept up on you. It was midnight and you couldn't sleep, all because of this thing you needed to do for work. You didn't want to get fired or anything. And that's the constant thing rattling round your brain.

'You're gunna get sacked.'

'You'll loose your spot.'

'They will think you're pathetic'

"What're you doing up love?" You then hear your girlfriend yawn. "Sorry Bills I didn't mean to wake you." She rubs her eyes adjusting to the light you had on in the living room. "You didn't babe. Why are you up this late?" You scatter the papers on the floor trying to find the one your after. "Bubba?" She then says a tad bit louder. "Hm? Oh, I needed to get this done, go back to bed billie-" "You come back to bed baby. You needa sleep." Your head just shakes. "Can't. I have to get this done." She lets out a sigh. "Please come to bed once your done." You mindlessly nod, still focusing on your work.

Days pass where this kept going on. Midnight, daily. She was getting really worried. Concerned. "Baby, it's your day off." She says looking at you scribbling something down on a piece of paper at the kitchen table. "I know but I forgot to do this." She sighs, her worry increasing. She goes to sit next to you. "Sweetheart." You hadn't heard her, too caught up with your burning thoughts. "Look at me." And you do, but not for long. Only to let her talk. "Your running yourself down, you need to take a break. Please." She pleaded.

But she knew deep down you wouldn't budge. You were definitely a hard worker. You didn't want her to worry either, you were fine. Right? "Its ok Bills once I'm done with this I will." "And when is that because it's been days." You continue to write. "Just a few more days." She sighs, standing up and leaving the room.

It was bad, truly bad. You haven't slept in 4 days, nearly 5 once the clock struck 12. You hadn't eaten. It's as if something was wrong with you, you had never done this before. Until the sleep deprivation kicked in. You felt it, feeling your lids slowly close. Your head going along with it, knocking out on the table. You hadn't even realized. That was until Billie came down, ready to shoot some sense into you, when she saw you dead asleep. She was so thankful. Tip toeing around to shut your laptop, when you wake back up again. "Fuck." She curses under her breath.

"Shit!" You say. "How long was I out for?" You ask her, that franticness coming back. "I dunno babe, you-" "No no no." You look at the clock. "It's 12. No..." Her eyes scan your face. Her worried look still evident. "Baby." She says sternly. Sensing what was approaching. "Oh God." You grab your chest trying to stay calm, but with the lack of sleep mixed with the lack of hunger your body just couldn't. A panic attack started to form.

Billie was quick to you, wanting to grab your face to get you to look at her, but truly not wanting to overwhelm you anymore. "Bub, please look at me." Tears build up, your breathing unsteady. "Baby, hey." Her voice was soft. "I-" You begin, feeling your chest tighten. "Can I touch you?" You finally look at her, nodding frantically, feeling like you're going insane. She was quick to grab your hand putting it on her chest. "Do your breathing. In.. and out." You shake your head but she just nods.

"Yes, in and out." Your eyes shut, trying so damn hard to focus on her voice. Then slowly your breathing comes back slightly. "There you go, that's it. Feel how still my heart is?" You nod, feeling her gently place her hand on your chest. "I want yours to be the same. Deep breath in, through your nose." You do so feeling a little bit calmer. "Then out." You breathe out, feeling the exhaustion finally hit you like a wave. "Few more times." She then says, feeling it still beating a bit fast. You nod, fixing your breathing until it was normal again. Things were silent. Until she spoke up.

"Talk to me sweet girl." Her thumb rubs under your eye, moving to the other. "I had to finish this stupid thing which I'm now coming to my senses was for no reason, I had time I don't know what got into me." That was a lie, you do know. And it was your evil coworker. She knew how hard you worked, knowing how intent you could sometimes be, she's the one who riled you up. "Bub." She knew you were lying too, she knew you better than anything. "Fucking Hannah. She's a stupid bitch oh my god. I absolutely hate her and the way she gets to me so easily." Billie grips both your hands in hers.

Making sure you're staying calm. "She bugs me too, I think you need to tell your boss because if anything she should be getting fired. Not you, because you haven't finished something in the right time. But her for being an evil fucking cunt." You sniffle, a small laugh to be heard. "Billie." "What! She is." You smile at her. "Thank you." You then say. "What for angel." Her hand comes to put any loose strand of hair behind your ear. "For being here, I feel like I've been awful." Her head shakes.

"So far from that, you've been working so hard even if it was worrisome. You were so determined and I admire you tons for that." Her words made you smile. "But I really do advice sleep, please." You nod. "Yeah.. I agree with you, I'm definitely feeling it now." She nods. "Dare I say good, its like you were a frozen statue over the past few days." You sigh a bit. "Sorry baby." She squeezes your hands, in an 'it's ok' way. "And Missy. You needa eat something." She then gets up grabbing a small snack from the fridge.

After that you get into bed with her for well needed rest. You turn to face her as her arm slings over your waist. "I missed you." She then says. "Missed snuggling with my girl."She finishes off. You give her a smile. "I'm sorry again, I truly am Billie I never wanted to worry you or for it to get so out of hand like it did." Her hand lands on your cheek so delicately. "Come to me in future my love, talk to me. That's what I'm here for yeah? I'm here for you always." Your body moves to cuddle hers, wrapping your arms around her. She holds you tightly. "From now on we talk hm?" Your head nods as you feel sleep taking over again. "We talk." - "Good." She kisses your forehead.

"I love you." You then say.

"I love you so much more."

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: MDNI, angst, bickering, mention of toxic relationship, aftermath of a toxic relationship that contains violent conduct (not toward a person), arguments, tension

Warehouse 79 had a raw, unfinished charm, white lighting, concrete floors, and currently, the faint echo of basketballs bouncing in the background.

I sat cross legged on a stack of unopened boxes, my laptop balanced precariously on my knee as I scrolled through mood boards and concept sketches. Chris sat nearby, flipping through sample swatches with one hand and sipping a can of pepsi with the other. His energy was infectious, even after years of working together.

“What about one last round of varsity hoodies?” Chris asked, pulling out a bright crimson swatch and holding it against a navy blue. “It’s been one of our best drops, and people keep asking for more.”

I nodded, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear as I considered his idea. “It’s a safe bet, but if this is supposed to be the final varsity drop, it has to be more than just hoodies. You know, make it memorable.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue.

“Think beyond hoodies” I said, gesturing toward his phone. “What if we added jackets? Maybe patches people can customize or swap out. Make it more interactive, more personal.”

Chris leaned back in his chair, balancing it on two legs like he always did. “Patches, huh? That could actually work. Retro but fresh.”

“That’s what I was thinking” I said, feeling a small surge of pride. Brainstorming with Chris always felt like a challenge, but in a good way. He was quick to shoot down bad ideas, but when he liked something, you knew it was solid.

He nodded, his fingers tapping on the table now as he started building on the concept. “We could package it as a set, hoodies, jackets, and patches. Maybe even limited edition duffle bags to tie it all together.”

Before I could respond, the rhythmic thud of a basketball hitting concrete interrupted us. My eyes flicked toward the far end of the warehouse, where Matt was casually shooting hoops at the makeshift hoop Chris had set up years ago for "creative breaks."

Matt had tagged along because, apparently, Chris wasn’t confident enough to drive alone yet. He hadn’t said a word since we got here, content to stay in his own world, his airpods in as he aimed for shot after shot. Until now, he broke his solitude, turning toward us. 

“Have you gotten any further yet?” Matt asks us, like it's an inconvenience to him.

“Yeah, we’re thinking varsity hoodies and jackets for a final time” Chris replied. “Y/n came up with the idea to add patches.”

Matt raised an eyebrow, his tone clipped. “Patches? That’s..different.”

I rolled my eyes, the easy energy in the room immediately shifted. “It’s called creativity, Matt. You should try it sometime.”

He smirked, finally glancing at me. “Right, because nothing says groundbreaking like varsity hoodies.”

His tone was light, but it still set me on edge. There was something about Matt that always managed to push my buttons.

“Do you not have anywhere else to be?” I shot back, keeping my tone as even as possible.

Matt caught the basketball mid dribble and leaned casually against the wall, his smirk annoyingly perfect. "Nope. But if you two could stop dragging this since I’m starving. Unless you’re planning to serve snacks with those hoodie ideas?"

"Funny" I shot back, stuffing my laptop into my bag.

Chris didn’t even look up from his phone. "We’re nearly done. Chill out, Matt. We’ll grab food on the way home."

Matt let the basketball roll across the floor and spread his arms. "No rush, right? It’s not like I have a life or anything."

I opened my mouth to fire back, but Chris cut me off. "Y/n, have you heard from Nick today? We should see if he wants food, too."

I sighed, redirecting my focus to Chris. "I’m meeting him when we're finished here actually. I’ve got my six month landlord inspection going on now, so he’s coming over to help me redecorate after."

Chris raised a brow. "Redecorate? Didn’t you just move stuff around last month?"

"Yeah" I admitted, my voice tightening, "but now that I have the apartment to myself, it feels like a good time to start fresh."

Matt raised a brow, his interest clearly piqued. "Apartment to yourself? What, you finally realized living with your boyfriend wasn’t working?"

Chris groaned. "Matt."

"What?" Matt said innocently, shrugging. "I’m just curious. Everyone knew Ethan was a walking red flag. Figured it was only a matter of time."

"Thanks for the unsolicited commentary" I snapped, glaring at him.

"Anytime" he replied with a mock salute, his smirk widening.

“How did he take it? You breaking up with him?” Chris questions.

I let out a small sigh. “I mean he didn’t take it well it went better than I expected. He was angry, saying I was making a mistake and I’ll regret it.” I paused, shrugging. “But he agreed to have his stuff out before the inspection, so that’s a relief.”

Chris, oblivious to the tension, nodded. "Good for you, though. Ethan always gave me bad vibes. Nick’s probably thrilled to help you out now."

"He was practically bouncing off the walls when I told him" I said, trying to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. "He’s probably more excited about display pillows than I am."

"Sounds like Nick" Chris said with a laugh.

Matt leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as his smirk turned wicked. "Let me guess, Nick’s going to pick some pastel theme, and you’re going to act like you love it because you’re too polite to say no."

I glared at him. "Unlike you, I actually appreciate someone’s help when they offer it."

He raised a brow. "Politeness isn’t going to make your apartment look less boring."

"Neither will your input." I snapped.

"Touche" he said, almost sick I caught him with that one.

Chris shook his head, "Alright, we’re done here” grabbing his keys from the counter, jingling them in his hand as he turned to me. "I’ll drive you back to your apartment, text Nick to see if he wants any food."

"Thanks" I muttered, barely masking my annoyance as I walked toward the door.

Before we headed out, I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Nick. Hey, I’m on my way back to the apartment if you want to make your way there. You want us to pick up anything for food on the way?

I hit send and slipped my phone back into my pocket, following Chris and Matt out into the parking lot.

"Nick will probably want sushi or something" I said casually, climbing into the passenger seat of Chris’s car. "You know how he gets about food."

Chris grinned as he started the car. "Yeah, he’s got that obsession with sushi, huh? Can’t blame him, though. I’m all about the ramen."

I laughed lightly, glad for the brief distraction. "He’ll probably text me back in a second, i'll let you know."

We drove in comfortable silence, I thought about what Chris had said earlier, about Ethan always giving him bad vibes. Chris wasn’t wrong. Ethan had been controlling, manipulative, and honestly, just a drain on my energy. Still, hearing Chris talk about it made me realize how little I’d talked to him about my relationship with Ethan.

As we pulled into traffic, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced down and saw Nick’s name flashing on the screen, wanting to FaceTime.

"Hey" I said casually, looking at his face show up on screen.

The line was silent for a beat before I heard his voice, shaky and urgent. "Y/n, where are you right now?"

I blinked, a knot forming in my stomach. "Uh, I’m on the way back to my place with Chris and your other triplet. Why, what’s going on?"

There was a pause, then Nick’s voice came through, thick with disbelief. "There’s an eviction notice on your apartment door."

My heart dropped. "What? No, that can’t be-"

"I’m looking at it right now. It’s taped right on the door. You need to get down here."

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I could feel the sudden heat rising in my face as panic started to set in. "This.. this doesn’t make sense. Everything was ready for the inspection, what’s going on?"

"Wait, what?" Chris pulled over to the side of the road, his face clouded with concern. "You’ve been on top of your rent, right?"

"I.. I have" I said, voice trembling.

Nick cut in, his tone soft but insistent. "Y/n, you need to come down here right now. It’s serious. I’m gonna try to reach the landlord, but you need to be here to figure out what’s going on."

"Okay. Okay, I’ll be there in a few minutes."

I hung up the phone, the weight of everything sinking in.

Chris turned to me, looking torn between wanting to comfort me and knowing there wasn’t much he could say. "What do you want to do?"

I rubbed my temples, trying to clear my mind. "I don’t know. I’m just.. I can’t believe this is happening. Everything was fine yesterday."

Matt’s voice came from the passenger seat, snide as usual. "Well, sounds like your ‘perfect’ little life is falling apart, huh?"

I whipped around, eyes narrowing. "Really? Now?"

Matt raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just saying. Seems like you might need to start planning your next move. Maybe get a new place.. or a new boyfriend this time?"

"Matt" Chris warned, but it was too late.

I glared at him. "You don’t know anything about my situation, so don’t even start."

"Hey, I’m just here for the entertainment" he shrugged, his grin as infuriating as ever.

I wanted to say something back, but the lump in my throat made it hard to speak. I didn’t want to deal with Matt’s sarcasm right now, not when everything was crashing down around me.

Chris glanced at me again, his voice soft. "Let’s just get to your place first. We’ll figure it out, okay?"

"Yeah" I said, swallowing hard. "Let’s just get there."

But as we pulled back into traffic, my mind raced, trying to figure out how I could possibly fix this. The car ride felt like it took forever, and my nerves only grew worse the closer we got to my apartment. Nick’s voice replayed in my head: There’s an eviction notice on your apartment door. I could barely focus on the road ahead, my grip tightening on the seat as Chris drove.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot, I didn’t wait for Chris to park properly before hopping out of the car. My heart pounded in my chest as I rushed toward the building, Chris and Matt followed closely behind.

As I reached the hallway outside my apartment, I spotted Nick standing by the door, his arms crossed, his expression tense. The sight of him didn’t calm me, it only made the situation feel more real. Nick looked up when he saw me approach, his face showing concern.

My eyes briefly flicked to the eviction notice on my door. It was there, right in the center of the door frame, almost mocking me. The bold black letters stared back at me, and a wave of dizziness washed over me.

"Thanks for calling me" I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper as I fumbled with my keys.

I inserted the key into the lock, the sound of the metal grating in the keyhole too loud in the silence. The door creaked as I pushed it open.

The instant the door swung wide, I froze.

The apartment was trashed.

Paper scattered everywhere. Broken glass from what must have been the coffee table lay in shards on the floor. It was as if someone had gone on a rampage, tearing through every inch of the space. The once cosy apartment that I had been proud of was now completely unrecognizable.

“What the..” I whispered, my voice trembling as I took it all in.

It wasn’t just messy, it was deliberate. The TV was shattered, clothes thrown across the floor like a hurricane had ripped through my wardrobe, couch cushions were slashed open, foam spilling out like guts, and my framed pictures lay in pieces. My chest tightened as I moved further inside, carefully stepping around the shards of glass and debris.

Ethan.

It had to be him.

I felt my chest tighten as I took in the sight, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was in a nightmare, but I couldn’t wake up.

My stomach twisted as I stepped inside, the mess spilling out into every corner of the room. Ethan had done it, trashed everything. It was too good to think he'd leave peacefully. I could almost hear his angry, self righteous voice in my head, laughing at how easy it was to tear everything down in one final fit of rage.

I should’ve known.

I heard Nick’s muffled curse from behind me. I could feel his anger building up, the tension in the air almost as thick as mine. "That piece of shit" he growled under his breath. "He did this."

I nodded, trying to process what I was seeing. The eviction notice on the door made sense now, it wasn’t just an arbitrary decision, the landlord had clearly seen the destruction, and now there was no turning back. I was out of my apartment.

I tried to breathe, to stay calm, but the sight before me, everything I had worked for, everything I thought I had built, slipped away.

Nick walked deeper into the apartment, kicking aside a broken chair leg. His voice was quiet but full of venom. "I’m gonna fucking kill that motherfucker. I can’t believe he did this to you."

Chris, still standing in the doorway, said nothing for a moment before speaking with a quiet tone. "Did the landlord know about this?"

I felt a stab of humiliation, and nodded. "Yeah, makes sense why I got the eviction notice now. He clearly walked into this when he came to inspect the place."

Nick turned to face me, his eyes full of concern. "You have to come stay with us."

Matt, who had been standing off to the side, his usual smirk nowhere to be found, finally spoke up, his tone laced with disbelief "Wait. Are you seriously offering for her to stay with us?" He looked between me and Nick with a disbelieving frown. "That’s.. insane. No offense, but we don’t have space for an extra person."

Nick shot Matt an exasperated look. "Come on, Matt. It’s not like she has anywhere else to go."

I glanced at Matt, feeling the tension between us rise instantly. I could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, he didn’t want me there, I could tell.

I looked at him, shaking my head. "I can’t, Nick. That wouldn’t be fair to you guys."

Matt folded his arms and leaned against the doorway, his face set in a grim expression. "Yeah this is a terrible idea."

I chewed on my bottom lip, torn.

Chris stepped in then, his voice steady but full of concern. "Y/n, listen to him. I know it’s not ideal, but you need somewhere safe to stay. We’re just trying to help."

Nick focused solely on me. "Y/n, you don’t have a choice. You can stay as long as you need to. We have space, Matt’s just being stubborn. We can make it work. The podcast room is clear now, there’s room for a bed, it’s literally the perfect spot for you to stay, and it’s right next to my room."

I glanced back at Nick, feeling torn. The idea of moving into their place, especially having to live with Matt, wasn’t exactly ideal, but I didn’t have many options.

Matt raised an eyebrow, his arms still crossed tightly over his chest. "A ‘perfect spot’? Nick, it’s a tiny room with no door."

Nick turned to Matt, his tone firm. "We can pretend it’s a cute little loft."

Matt was visibly uncomfortable. "Yeah, but our place is a little cramped for four grown ass people, don’t you think?"

Nick didn’t miss a beat. "It’s not forever, Matt. Just until Y/n figures things out."

I felt all eyes on me, the weight of their stares almost too much. I hated this. I hated feeling like I had no other options, no choice but to accept their offer, but I was also too exhausted to argue. Too emotionally drained from everything that had happened.

Finally, I nodded, the decision feeling like it was being made for me. "Okay, fine. But just until I can figure something else out."

Nick smiled, relieved. "Good. It’s settled, then."

I sighed, trying to push down the swelling feeling in my chest. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t how I envisioned spending my time, living with Matt, of all people, but it was a place to stay, and for now, that was all that mattered.

Matt, still grumbling, shot a look at me. "Just don’t start stealing my snacks or leaving your crap everywhere. I’m not your maid."

I raised an eyebrow, giving him a sharp look. "I’m not the one who trashed a fucking apartment, Matt."

He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t make it weird."

"Not planning on it" I shot back, my voice flat but with just enough bite to make him pause.

For the moment, the tension between us felt like it could snap at any second, I was already starting to brace myself for the weeks ahead. I wasn’t sure how I was going to navigate living under the same roof as Matt, but right now, I didn’t have much of a choice.

a/n: eeeeek new series!!! im v excited for whats in store for this one! also theres 100 tags on this already and its only part one??? i love yous so much omfg

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[cailinsblog]

Autumn in Monaco- lando norris

Lando Norris x reader

Please repost

Masterlist

The air in Monaco had taken on that familiar crispness, signaling the arrival of fall, even in this glamorous coastal city. The leaves on the trees lining the quiet streets had turned shades of amber, gold, and deep crimson, creating a picturesque scene against the azure backdrop of the Mediterranean. It was the perfect morning for a cozy coffee date, and that’s exactly what you and Lando Norris had planned.

Lando, your boyfriend and Formula 1 driver, was often busy with races, media events, and training, but today was one of those rare, slower days. You both had decided to take a stroll through the quieter parts of Monaco and grab coffee at a little café nestled away from the bustling center. It was your special spot—the one you loved for its charm, its warm atmosphere, and the way the barista always seemed to remember your order. Plus, the sight of fallen leaves dancing along the cobbled streets made everything feel like a scene from a romantic movie.

“Ready to go?” Lando asked, standing by the front door of your shared apartment, dressed in a casual hoodie and jeans, looking effortlessly handsome. His car keys dangled from his hand, but you shook your head with a smile.

“I was thinking we could walk,” you suggested, adjusting your cozy scarf. “It’s such a beautiful day out.”

Lando grinned, that playful sparkle in his eyes. “Walking it is, then. Let’s make the most of this perfect fall weather.”

As you stepped outside, the cool air nipped at your cheeks, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The sun was shining, casting a golden glow over the colorful leaves that blanketed the ground. Lando took your hand as you started down the street, his fingers warm against yours. You couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of it all—the two of you, together, with no rush and no interruptions.

Monaco had a different energy during the off-season, quieter and more peaceful, and you loved moments like this when you could just enjoy each other’s company without the constant hum of the racing world. As you walked, you pointed out the vibrant leaves and the way they crunched underfoot, laughing as Lando kicked a small pile, sending them swirling in the air.

“I think fall is my favorite season,” you mused as you looked around. “It’s just so cozy.”

Lando chuckled softly. “Yeah, but you say that about every season. You love summer when we’re at the beach, and winter when we’re by the fire.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Okay, fine. But can’t I love all the seasons?”

He smiled, squeezing your hand. “You can love whatever you want. Just as long as I get to be there with you.”

The walk to the café was serene, the sounds of the city muted by the quiet streets and the soft rustling of the leaves. As you turned a corner, the small café came into view. It was a charming little place with ivy crawling up its stone façade and a few wooden tables outside, though they were empty today because of the chill in the air. Inside, the warm glow from the windows beckoned, promising the smell of fresh pastries and the sound of gentle conversation.

Lando held the door open for you as you stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming softly. The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and the cozy warmth immediately made you feel at home. The café was quiet this morning, just a few locals reading newspapers or working on laptops, and your usual table by the window was free.

You both settled in, and Lando went to the counter to order your drinks. You watched him from your seat, your heart swelling with affection as he flashed his charming smile at the barista, engaging in a light conversation like he always did. Even in the simplest moments, Lando had this way of making everything feel special.

A few minutes later, he returned with two steaming cups of coffee—yours with a touch of cinnamon, just the way you liked it, and his plain and strong. He set them down on the table with a flourish, as if he were presenting the most luxurious drinks in all of Monaco.

“Voilà, mademoiselle,” he teased, his British accent a bit exaggerated as he sat down across from you.

“Merci, monsieur,” you replied with a laugh, taking the warm cup in your hands and feeling the heat seep through your fingers.

You both sat there, sipping your coffee and watching the world go by outside the window. The leaves continued to fall, swirling in the gentle breeze, and you couldn’t help but feel like this was the perfect moment. The kind of moment that made you pause and appreciate how lucky you were to have someone like Lando in your life.

“This is nice,” Lando said after a while, his voice soft. “I feel like we don’t get enough of this.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze. His brown eyes were warm and filled with the same contentment you felt. “Yeah, I love these quiet mornings with you.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his again. “I know it’s hard with how busy things can get sometimes, but I really love doing normal things with you. Like this.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Me too, Lando. It’s the little moments that make everything else worth it.”

He smiled, a genuine, soft smile that melted you completely. “You always know exactly what to say.”

The two of you spent the next hour chatting about everything and nothing—about his upcoming races, about the plans you had for the rest of the fall season, and about how much you were both looking forward to the holidays. Every now and then, Lando would make a joke, or you’d laugh about some old memory, and it felt like time had slowed down, giving you both the chance to simply enjoy being together.

Eventually, as the sun dipped lower in the sky and the café began to fill with more people, you both decided it was time to head home. Lando insisted on paying, of course, and after saying goodbye to the barista, you stepped back out into the cool afternoon air.

As you walked hand in hand back through the quiet streets, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. Being with Lando, sharing these simple moments, was everything you could have ever hoped for.

Back at the apartment, the warmth enveloped you once again, and as you settled onto the couch, Lando pulled you close, wrapping his arm around you. Outside, the autumn leaves continued to fall, painting the world in golden hues, but inside, everything felt just right.

“Thank you for today,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for always being my favorite part of it.”

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, with the world quiet and peaceful outside, you knew that these little moments, shared with Lando, were what made life so beautiful.

[scorpiomother]

there is a light that never goes out

･ﾟ★ most of these days, i don't get too intimate / why would i let you in? but i think again

pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

summary: you’ve tried to ignore the pestering infatuation you harbor for your fellow camp counselor, but when last day debauchery ensues, the lines between friendship and love blur.

tags: slow burn. summer camp. friends to lovers. pining. alcohol usage.

word count: 4.4k

a/n: mother is back and here is my love letter to the feverish bliss of a season and to everyones favorite muse, peter parker + this only took a broken laptop, nicotine and a full year to finish... so enjoy<3

playlist ☆ masterlist ☆ read on ao3 ☆ kofi

You don’t think it’s possible to feel any warmer, but the mixture of everything is weighing in on you. The blossoming bonfire in accordance with the sultry sun. The tipsy hum in your chest. The occasional graze of Peter’s arm against your shoulder.

Sometimes you can’t bring yourself to look at him and this is one of those times.

Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the last day and you don’t know exactly what to do with yourself. Or it could be the muffled buzz in your chest that’s growing by the minute; telling you to do things you shouldn’t. Admit things you can’t. If you look at him for too long, you’re sure that your better judgment will fade into that tempting hum. 

You squint past the sun rays reflecting off of the lake and focus on all of the small things that don’t mean anything to you. A bottle here, a crushed can there. The flicker and burn of the fire. The new stains on your old Converse.

You search for the next best thing when a beer bottle appears, floating above your lap.

“Your turn,” Peter says.

His voice makes you want to look. It makes you want to say, huh? Then, he would have to repeat himself and you could watch the way his lips move. Instead, you murmur a soft thank you and take the bottle, eyes cemented on the shoreline.

The campers had left in the morning, and yet the feeling of childish abandonment and delight is still overflowing in the empty campgrounds. The handful of twenty-something-year-olds that stayed back for one last night to “clean up” the camp were quick to revel in the sudden freedom. By the time the last bus left with the campers and older counselors, they were already going on a liquor run and starting a bonfire on the shorelines in nothing but their swimwear. And as nice as it all was, you wish the kids were still there. They would distract you from the thoughts of Peter and now, you don’t know what to do when they come.

As you sip on the lukewarm beer, you feel eyes on you. You look up and sure enough, Peter is staring. His eyes are lighter than normal, a sheen like honey, and his expression is almost quizzical. That glint of amusement catches you off guard. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he smiles. “I’m just waiting for you to admit that you hate beer.”

“What?” you repeat with more confusion.

“Every time I pass you the bottle you frown.”

You furrow your brows. “No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. And after you drink, you make a sour face,” he says plainly.

You’re about to protest when Peter reaches for the bottle and takes it from you, his hand skimming against yours in the process. 

“Creep,” you mumble. You drag your fingers along the skin that he touched and try to ignore the burn. "You’ve known me for like, what? Two months? And you think you know me like the back of your hand.”

“I wish,” he shrugs before downing the rest of the beer.

I wish. You’re biting the inside of your cheek now. “I- I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and when you close your eyes, you can even see it. His closed mouth grin, full of satisfaction and knowing. 

Fuck. 

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you mutter, standing up from the bench.

“‘Cause you hate beer, huh?” 

“‘Cause I’m thirsty.”

“Mhm, alright, Bug,” Peter says, smugly.

You can still feel his eyes on you as you walk towards the cooler by the dock and as much as you want to look back, you don’t.

You rummage through the cooler— a little more frantic than you should be. Beneath all the shitty beer and ice is a thick bottle of margarita mix and you pull it out in triumph. 

“Wow, going for the hard stuff, huh?”

You look up to see Harry standing in front of you with Patron in his right hand and a vape in his left. You scoff, “Says you. This shit is mostly juice anyways.”

Harry settles beside you and watches you pour yourself a cup. He smells like liquor, cologne, and bad news. 

“Make me a cup?” He slurs.

You hum in response.

You don’t trust Harry. Not for any particular reason, but he makes you unsure of yourself and you don’t like that. You fill his cup to the brim and hand it to him carefully.

“I’m surprised Peter isn’t here with you.” 

You roll your eyes. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Ah, come on. You guys are two peas in a pod.”

“He’s my friend.”

“Is he though?”

“What else would he be?”

“Everyone knows you guys have a thing for each other.” 

You’re quiet for a moment, ruminating on his words. Your brain is teetering between joke or not. If he isn’t, then what? 

“Just friends,” you murmur in a way that doesn’t reach him. It sticks in the honeyed air like a mantra for yourself. 

Ever since the start of camp, Peter and you had been attached at the hips. You were both the new counselors, whereas everyone else had known each other from the year prior. During counselor orientation and the team-building exercises, you gravitated toward each other, sharing awkward laughs and stupid little comments. As the weeks went by, you got closer and closer. You had just met the guy and he was probably the closest you ever got to a person.

“So, that doesn’t bother you at all?” Harry raises a brow.

You look back and Gwen has replaced you on the bench. Peter’s looking at her with such adoration in his face that makes you feel a pang of jealousy. It spreads through your body like a fever.

His cheeks are full of warmth, laughter bellowing out from him so easily. The subtle flex of his bicep has you staring a little longer than you should. When he catches your stare, you mean to look away but the numbing heat makes you forget.

“What? No. Why would it?” You murmur, turning your attention back to Harry.

“Alright. Well, I’ll help you out. Just ‘cause it’s the last day,” Harry says before pouring an ungodly amount of Patron in your cup.

“Oh- I, um. Okay. Thank you,” you stutter. 

Harry takes his bottle and taps it to your cup. “To friends.”

“To friends,” you mumble under your breath before throwing back a couple of gulps.

Harry starts to talk about nonsense that you can no longer concentrate on. Your ears had zoned in on the laughter behind you, trying to figure out what was so funny to Peter. Have you ever made him laugh like that? 

There’s an invisible string tugging at your face, telling you to look back. Soak up the last of the daylight and the last of Peter, even if it hurts. You want to give into the compulsion, like looking at him is a tick you can’t help, but your attention falls on the dainty bumblebee fluttering innocently in the space between you and Harry.

“Oh, shit,” Harry yelps. His face is full of horror as the small thing dances around him.

“It’s just a bee,” you reassure him. 

Rather than calming down, Harry attempts to pull an ungraceful version of the matrix, bumping into you in the process. 

“Harry!” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry! I just- Fuck!” Before Harry could finish his apology, he’s running far from the docile insect and you.

“Fuckin’ Harry,” you mutter to yourself, looking at the stain of Red40 and Patron on your shirt and then to Peter.

He’s too preoccupied with Gwen to notice the mishap.

Like a small child, it hurts. The possessiveness sticks onto your skin like humidity. 

You down what’s left in your cup in one go and start walking to your cabin.

It was that second week of camp when your heart first succumbed to Peter. The two of you were on night watch and he entertained you with a game of Would You Rather while everyone else on the campgrounds slept soundly and the night insects trilled. 

Would you rather get stung by a bee or watch Isabella all by yourself? 

Give me the bee, you deadpanned.

Ouch, I’m gonna tell her what you said.

You wouldn’t, you scoffed.

You’re right, I won’t. That kid would probably start biting us both. 

One moment you’re laughing and the next, he’s whispering, wait, hold on. Stay still. So you do. You stayed as still as the night and suddenly, his hand was inching closer and closer to your face until his fingers grazed against your cheek. He held an eyelash in front of your lips and gently said, make a wish.

You hesitantly whispered a delicate oh, okay before absentmindedly blowing the eyelash away. 

I hope it was a good one, he grinned.

It was, you lied.

Everything after was hazy, with constant flashes of making a wish. If you could do it again, you would tell yourself to get a grip and not waste such a precious wish like you just did. If you could do it again, you would wish that Peter would grab that eyelash off your cheek again and again and again.

You’re already feeling the drink make its way to your head as you head on over to your cabin. You underestimated Harry’s heavy hand and the heat is working against you. Annoyingly, the wet shirt is enough to cool you down.

You wonder where the time went. It’s overwhelming to think about, especially now that you’re tipsy. Time is slipping through your fingers and you don’t know how you’re supposed to go back to the city and let this all turn into a memory— let Peter turn into a memory. 

In all honesty, you’re not so sure that you can. Eight weeks of children watching and sun soaking. Eight weeks of Peter and all of those almost kisses (two to be exact). Where was it supposed to go? In a shoebox of memories, farther away than you’d like it to be?

There’s a swelling feeling in your chest that quickly dissipates when Peter comes running behind you.

“Hey, hey, where did you go?”

You want to be spiteful and ask him what happened to Gwen. Instead, you bite your tongue.

“I’m right here, Bear,” you say.

“Well, yeah. I mean, what happened?”

“I just wanted to get something to drink and I-”

“You spilled all over yourself.”

“No, I didn’t. Harry did and I need a new shirt.”

“My cabin is right here,” he points out.

“It’s okay, I have my own clothes.”

“Bug, stop being stubborn.” He grabs your wrist, and you have no choice but to stop and look at him. The swelling returns as his brown eyes try to read you. “Trust me.”

“Okay?” 

You sigh. “Okay.”

His cabin is identical to yours. Three beds. Creaky wood all over. Light smell of mildew. You were there once before but you try not to think about it too much.

“Here, sit,” he says, patting the mattress.

Like a loyal dog, you obey quietly.

While Peter rustles through the drawers, mumbling where did I put it? you gaze at the Polaroids decorating the wall like his own personal scrapbook.

You notice one particular photo with you in it. You were setting up the projector for the first Movie Mondays. That night The Princess and the Frog played, the lights flickering green and blue on the flimsy screen that took you and Peter too long to put up. 

Oh my god, you sobbed halfway into the movie. Ray, the firefly, was singing Evangeline to his star, and it was enough to trigger an embarrassing fit out of you.

Are you crying? Peter whispered.

I’ve never wanted to be a bug so bad before, you laughed pitifully. You wrapped your arms around your legs and let the stray tears fall on your knees. You wanted to pout and blame your hysteria on Peter. He didn’t know it but he had an annoying habit of turning you into a child. 

You’re pretty when you cry, he said.

With your head on your knees, you bit your lip. You- you’re stupid.

I don’t think that’s what you say when someone gives you a compliment.

You’re making fun of me.

Am not, Bug, he said for the first time. 

With teary eyes, you looked for the truth on his face. His eyes softened. Without noticing, you licked your lips and you swore he did the same. It happened so fast you couldn’t remember and suddenly you were wondering if you leaned in, would he do the same? Before you could test your theory, there was a tap on your shoulder.

I think I just ate peanuts, Susie said.

What?

My throat is itchy.

Oh!

Luckily, little Susie was okay, but you weren’t. That night you couldn’t sleep. That look on his face stuck with you. If you were crazy, you would’ve thought that he wanted to kiss you. 

Still, you’re unsure.  

You open your mouth to ask him if he remembers that night, but he interrupts you.

 “I kind of miss them,” he says, head still in the dresser. 

“Your army of fanboys?”

“Yeah, if you want to call them that,” he laughs. 

“It was pretty sweet how they looked up to you.”

“Maybe, I should start a cult.”

You snort. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Why do you hate me?” Peter looks back at you and tilts his head with a boyish smile that makes you look away.

He returns his attention to the drawers and you begin to get impatient.

“You know I don’t need anything special, right? I just need… A shirt.”

”Bug,” he says firmly. “When did you get so bratty?”

“I- You’re taking a long time,” you redden.

You tap your foot against the old wood and stare at the back of his head bobbing and searching. His hair is overgrown, longer than it was when you first met him. If you were brave enough, you would run your hands through it.

“If you think about it, we were basically paid to be cult leaders for eight weeks,” he says.

“Oh. We’re still talking about cults. Great.”

“How does one go about making a cult anyways?”

“Hold on, let me just look for a cult leader’s TED talk.”

“So sarcastic, Bug.” 

“Only for you, Bear,” you joke.  

“Good.”

Your ears turn hot and you’re licking your lips again. The raspiness in his voice feels all too serious. 

You’re silent again. It’s quiet enough you can hear the Earth past Peter’s search. Trees rustle. The wind caresses the grass. If you listen hard enough, you swear you can hear sunshine, but maybe it’s just the alcohol. Eventually another drawer shuts.

“Here,” he says. He finally turns around and stands up with a shy expression on his face that makes you smile. In his hand is a red and blue tie dye shirt he made in the early weeks of camp.

When you reach for it, you zone in on the beaded bracelet on his wrist, a silly little nothing that you made for him a week ago. You might as well have threaded the beads to say IHAVEACRUSHONYOU, but the nickname you called him was safer.

You partially regret the bracelet as the cringey gift screams elementary innocence, but now you had something of his. You were even.

“Thank you,” you say.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you outside.”

“It’s fine,” you say before you can think. “I mean it’ll only take three seconds. You’ve seen me without a shirt before, hah.”

“Someone’s drunk,” he chuckles. 

You turn away before he can see you blush. “Not really…”

In one swift motion, you sling off the stained shirt and drape it along the end of his bed frame and pick up Peter’s replacement shirt.

“Oh, it’s healing nicely,” Peter says, surprised.

You look back in an attempt to look at the once opened wound on your back. “Thanks to you, I guess.”

Due to peer pressure from freshly graduated fourth graders, you had jumped off the cliff right into the lake and your back grazed against a submerged rock. It wasn’t anything serious. Barely deep enough for medical attention and the adrenaline from the jump turned you numb.

It was the first time he touched you, really touched you. A deliberate palm to your side rather than an unintentional graze of the knuckles. It made you think of other ways you could hurt yourself just so the two of you could play an innocent game of doctor.

I can’t just drink this by myself, you whined. 

I’m about to put a needle through you, you really want me to drink alcohol right now?

I trust you, you admitted unwillingly.

Once he stitched you up, you sat together side by side on his bed with your shirt still over your neck and your bathing suit now cold on your skin. He pressed his hand on your thigh, saying all better. It was enough to warm you up. Enough to make you forget why you never kissed him. Enough to make you want to.

He squeezed the fleshy part of your thigh, and you exhaled. Peter.

It’s Dr. Parker to you.

One moment you’re whispering, stupid, and the next your nose was grazing his with two parting lips just barely touching. His own breath matched yours. Cinnamon, and booze. Warm and wanting. You gently nudged your nose against his before you could come to.

With lips hovering and agape and adrenaline clouding your mind, you thought he was about to kiss you, for sure this time. But when Gwen knocked on the door, calling out to Peter, kissing was the last thing you wanted to do. The only option was to run away. Run back into that lake and sink all the way to the bottom.

When you throw the shirt on, the fabric grazes against the healing scar. The cotton is soft and weightless. You could immediately smell the familiar evergreen and pine. 

“Red and blue look good on you,” Peter says and you have to force yourself to not think anything of it. Friends compliment each other. No big deal.

“You should keep it,” he adds and then you’re thinking, okay, kind of a big deal. But you don’t have it in you to protest. If this was the only thing you could get from Peter, then you were happy. Almost satisfied.

“Alright,” you say and wear it like a promise ring.

By the time you two make it back to the lake, the sun is nearly set. The bonfire melts into the fire in the sky, a burnt orange streak floating above the lake. Smoke and char wafts in the air and you notice everyone huddled up in a circle. There’s beer bottles surrounding them like they were partaking in some kind of ritual. As you get closer, you see the single bottle laying on its side in the middle of the crowd. 

“What are they, twelve?” Peter whispers as Flash and Felicia kiss.

They don’t notice you two. They’re far too gone and enamored to see beyond themselves, and you’re grateful. Being the bystander looking in was better than watching Peter kiss someone else.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” he nudges.

You nod your head in silence and follow him like a lost puppy.

You two keep to the lakeshore and walk side by side until you can barely see the stray embers of the bonfire in the air. 

A mile away, you eventually reach the west pier. It’s unsoiled with beer and degeneracy, the moon purifying the fresh water and wood. The two of you sit on the dock, feet dangling in the chilling water. By the time the night completely glossed over, the alcohol had too.

“It’s so… Quiet,” you say and suddenly you fear your voice may disturb the stillness and ripple through the water. 

“I like it.”

“Just kind of eerie, ya know?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll scare the monsters away for you,” he teases.

Peter places one hand on your back and rubs small circles, a new type of warmth now rippling through you. 

Without realizing it, you began to mindlessly kick your feet through the lake, ripples after ripples reaching out to touch the earth beyond. The wrinkles of water pulsate. Your heart does the same with each circle of his hand.

“Should’ve got another beer before we left,” you eventually murmur.

“I’m not fun enough for you?”

I just don’t know what to do with myself.

“You’re less fun without your little cult,” you tell him. 

“I’m retiring,” he tells you.

“Oh, God forbid.”

“I’m tired,” he says. “Let me be tired.”

When he lays his head in your lap, you don’t move. You barely breathe.

You wish you could feel the calm, shudder and move on, exhale the hummingbird out of your chest, and be done with it. 

It’s heavier than you can manage. The ease and calm of him scares you. He makes a home in you so terribly easy, and you can barely touch him without feeling dizzy.

Peter sighs. “What am I going to do without you, Bug?”

You wish he didn’t say things like that.

You get out a shaky, “I don’t know.”

But you do know. Peter’s going to be okay without you. You’ll just be some girl he used to know and move on just fine. But you on the other hand? You don’t know. You don’t want to.

It aches.

I’m tired. Let me be tired, you beg the cruel universe.

It twinkles in response. Ripples right through you. 

Your hands are in his hair. You’re dizzy, but you do it anyway. There’s a soft moan coming from Peter so you play and pull and tug, letting all the anxiety leave your hands like kneading dough. You’re gentle because Peter is gentle. Rubbing your back. Stitching up a silly mistake. And even breaking your heart. He does it so gently, you don’t know if he has a cruel bone in his body. Even if he was cruel, you’re not sure if it would offend you.

He closes his eyes. You drag your nails against his temple and roam freely. The night sky reminds you of fireflies and popcorn. Slow breaths and wishes. You count the dimples on the moon. Little distractions to ground you, even now. 

The moment feels infinite. Almost infinite, like those almost kisses. So close, yet so fleeting. You stop trying to make it stay. You let it ripple through you.

You feel a little brave.

“Let’s go swimming,” he says, eyes closed. He can smell it on you— the braveness, you think.

Your hands freeze.“Now?”

“When else?”

“It’s cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm, Bug,” he says, this time with his brown eyes wide, open, and tempting. “Trust.”

He stands up and holds his hand out for you before you can protest. Whenever he mentions trust, it does something to you. The cut above your shoulder blade is trust scarred onto your body. Were you supposed to stray from your habits now? On the last day?

You open your mouth but then your hand is in his and he’s guiding you to the obsidian. 

He takes off his shirt and shorts, throwing them on the dock. You follow suit, and by the time you fold the tie dye shirt into a neat square, Peter’s already in, yelping, laughing, coaxing.

You shiver and when you’re in the water, you shiver some more. 

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“Is this your big plan to murder me? Drown me and run back to everyone else and play spin the bottle?” you grumble, less than satisfied.

“Duh,” he smiles proudly.

You’re treading water, feet barely reaching the sand, while Peter stands tall, the moon illuminating his handsome face.

“Why didn’t you wanna play spin the bottle?” you say impulsively. 

It shocks both you and Peter.

“Did you?”

“I asked you first.”

His brows knit together. “I don’t want to see you kissing someone else.”

Your brain short circuits. A laugh coils in your stomach and you want to ask if Ashton Kutcher is going to come out of the woods with his crew and yell, Gotcha! It makes more sense than what you think he’s implying. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Your limbs suddenly burn from trying to stay afloat.

“Do you need me to show you, bug?” he says.

His hand is out in front of you again like a life raft. You let him take you, pull you in his gravity. Show me. You glide in the water until you can feel Peter’s breath on your face and your chest is heaving against his. Show me.

Peter wraps his arm around your lower back and your legs have nowhere else to go but wrapped around him. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Still need me to show you?”

 Show me. Show me. Show me.

“I think so,” you say so delicately you’re not so sure he hears you, but then his lips are on yours and the sun comes back in the dead of night, blooming in your ribcage.

It happens fast. He doesn’t let you hesitate, retreat back like the scared creature you are. He knows you. He kisses like he knows you. He keeps his promise. I’ll keep you warm. 

Soft, tender, and close to loving. His lips overlap yours and your gripping onto his back like this moment could dissolve in this lake. He grips you right back like you’ll run. You could. You might.

He deepens the kiss, more want, more need, less tenderness. He sucks on your bottom lip and the strength to run right out of you. 

Your hands wander feverishly. From his back to the crook of his neck and then his hair.

Now that he has you here like this, it makes things more difficult. 

You feel like a firefly. This small little thing of shine and glow, jutting around in a mason jar with Peter’s name sharpied on the top. 

His lips linger for a second longer and then he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours.

“Bug,” Peter says.

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to call me, right?”

His lips move in slow motion.

“Right,” you say.

[demonicbaby666]

You’re Mine

One shot | Marvel Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Words: 1.5k+ 

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, jealousy, fingering, daddy kink, asphyxiation, sort of public sex being that people are on the other side of a door...

Summary: Natasha has always had a thing for you being hers and only hers. It's one of the things you love about her. However, it's impossibly hard not to rile her up because of her tendency to get overprotective and possessive. This time, you may have pushed her too far. So much so that she takes matters into her own hands with a lot more urgency than what you're used to.

A/n: my finger slipped and turned my laptop's whore mode on xxx

Emerald eyes were glued to the hand on your thigh. Of course, Maria hadn't meant to stir the pot when she'd harmlessly laid her hand down. Someone had made a joke, and after a series of light slaps, her hand just settled. It wasn't uncomfortable initially, but as Natasha's eyes continued to bore into you, it certainly was.

The next thing to do was to simply move Maria's hand away. Yet, there was something so satisfying about Nat's flushed face, reddening from anger, and her auburn hair that seemed to burn brighter similarly that - you didn't care to admit it - made your stomach tense in the best of ways. Was it a good idea to egg her on? Of course not. That didn't stop you from leaning into the casual contact from Maria. The lonely hand on your knee was soon joined by yours.

If Natasha wasn't pissed off before, she sure as hell was now, and you couldn't blame her. It would have been too much for anyone to handle, what with the exaggerated laughs, nudges, and non-existent space between you and Maria. You served up a platter of green and practically spoon-feed envy straight into Nat's mouth, which was now clenched together.

"A word outside," Nat said, suddenly standing above you. The veins in her neck were strained and pulsing; her nostrils flared as heaved breaths racked through her whole body. The tight-fitted shirt she wore rose and fell plain as day, and from this sight alone, you realised you may have pushed too far.

Not waiting for a response, Natasha grabbed your wrist, pulling you up and out of the room - ignoring the following sets of eyes.

Once you were away from said prying eyes, the older woman had you backed against the wall in an instant, eyes of fury scorching through you.

"You think I'd let that slide?" She seethed, wrapping her fingers around your throat, "Do I need to remind you that you're mine?"

The tight, possessive coiling of her fingers burned down your chest and ignited a fire between your legs. Nat had never been shy about where she stood on you getting comfortable with others. Even mentioning previous relationships would have repercussions. Often, these were reminders of how said relationships lacked vital things only Natasha could give you, i.e., the ability to walk the next day.

"No," you squeaked.

"It's obvious I do," Nat growled, sliding a hand between your bodies and roughly palming your breast.

The beginnings of a moan caught in your throat as the auburnette squeezed her fingers tighter around your neck. In some ways, you knew it would boil down to this, though you expected the display of dominance and ownership to come later in the night, when everyone was fast asleep, and no sound made would penetrate the alert ears that filled the room the other side of the wall.

You tried pleading with her, "Nat, they'll hear."

"Let them," she said, her lips inching closer to your ear, "It seems they also need a reminder of who you belong to."

"Nat," you attempted again before you were cut off by the sharp feel of her teeth biting the flesh under your ear.

With her hand still firmly holding you against the wall, airways fighting to get oxygen in, she lowered her hand down your ribcage and cupped your clothes cunt. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, knowing what was to come. It would have been easy for you to say stop or to have pushed Nat away entirely, but excitement was bubbling under the surface, and a large part of you wanted this. To be owned. To be claimed. To be reminded of what happens when you forget your place.

"You want daddy's fingers, don't you?" She muttered into your ear, her tone low, her voice raspy.

"Yes," you shamelessly breathed out.

In one quick move, your body was flipped, face pressed against the wall and hands on either side of your face. One of Natasha's hands held your hip in place, the other slithered between the wall and your stomach, slowly moving south. Deft fingers trailed a line up your thigh, reaching the waistband of your panties and wasted no time delving into the sticky mess she'd created.

"Did having Maria's hands all over you do this?" Nat asked, the disdain in her voice evident.

Having her so close to where you needed, yet refusing to appease your growing desire, had you shaking your head and wriggling your hips, trying to position your clit over her stubborn fingers. However, Natasha was unrelenting and moved her hand away entirely, resting on your jaw and yanking it back so you could face her.

"Tell me who your cunt belongs to," she demanded.

Behind the anger and lust that donned her eyes, once light sage, the shade of dark juniper, you saw a hollowness that encircled and sought to wreak havoc on the one certainty she held sacred - you. Of course, you had always made it clear that you were hers and she was yours, but despite her tough bravado, sometimes she also needed to be reminded. After all, the avenger was only human.

"You," your voice crackled in your throat, desperately trying to remain quiet yet sure in your words when all you wanted was to be mercilessly fucked against the wall, "you, you and only you."

"Good girl." she pecked the underside of your jaw. A smirk lined her smooth, balmed lips as she did so.

You could have cried with joy when Natasha released you and trailed her finger back down to your underwear. Instead, you settled for a soft moan of gratitude when you felt the pressure radiate off your body and the beginnings of lazy circles drawn over your clit.

Despite the urgency that flooded through you and the precarious place where your body was being taken, Nat showed no signs of being in a rush. The languish exploration of a place she knew all too well was still being undergone after gruelling minutes. A complaint had touched the tip of your tongue so many times, and as if the older woman knew when it was coming, she'd give you the tiniest taste of relief and settle back into the depth of endless torture.

It was too much. A lump was caught in your throat, your bottom lip was sore from the firm bite of your teeth, and your body fought to keep itself upright and steady while simultaneously trying to remain docile.

"Please, daddy," you begged, rucking your hips for the hundredth time, "Fuck me."

Immediately, you sensed the change in Nat's stature. She stood taller and closed the space between your bodies, pressing her chest firmly to your back and pushing you further into the wall. The cold paint was welcome against your flushed cheek and cut your gasp off short.

This newfound calm would only last a millisecond before two fingers penetrated the junction between your legs, and a fire set ablaze every living cell in your body.

There was no need to move anymore because the expeditious pace and vigour of Natasha's talented fingers left you sated - in addition to clouding your conscious mind. The only task necessary to focus on, thanks to the body and hand holding you in place against the wall, was breathing.

"Say it again," she ordered.

The moment her thumb made contact with your throbbing clit, a bolt of lightning plummeted through your spine and forced your neck to snap back with a silent whimper. Thankfully, the avenger's quick reflexes came to her aid. She moved her head in time for the back of your head to crash down on her shoulder. The thudded contact would have been painful had it not been for your senses being somewhat preoccupied with the brain-numbing ecstasy that was reaching its peak.

"Fuck me, daddy!"

Careful to make sure the force of her body would be enough to keep you upright, the auburnette wound her arm around your body and placed her hand firmly around your neck. Everything around you faded and ceased to exist; the floor beneath your feet was gone, and you were floating on cotton clouds. You dragged your nails down the wall in an effort to grasp onto something tangible. Instead, the mix of the dulled scratching sounds and emptiness in your palms left you increasingly consumed by the ethereal feeling of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"I'm going to come, daddy," you cried out, surely extracting a snigger from someone on the other side of the wall, "Please keep going."

"You're mine," Natasha uttered into your ear, squeezing the sides of your throat harder. She ran her thumb faster over your clit, curved her fingers at the end of each thrust, and within the next few seconds, the stars in your visions illuminated a blacked-out night sky.

"Mine."

When you regained the ability to see again, you spun around and crashed your lips to Nat's. It took her by surprise, though quickly enough, she reciprocated and poured every ounce of love she had into the kiss.

"I'm yours," you whispered softly against her lips, "and only yours."

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic @red1culous @7thavenger @five-bi-five-mind @kenyakimble34 @12fluffybunny12 @asensitivecookie @maxinehufflepuffprincess @whosprentiss @asolitaryrose3 @lesbi-hinest-here @imlike-so-gaydude @taylorswiftsboyfriend @asphodelvamp @tmlwattpad19 @jareguiromanoff @lilfartbox1 | click here to be added to my taglist

[kaisa-ryo]

little revenge

soshiro hoshina x reader

tw: 18+, obscenity (blowjob), english isn’t my native language!

***

In the quiet office of the headquarters, where Hoshina sat, only the occasional tapping of the keyboard could be heard. The pungent scent of coffee, lingering in the air, was soothing. The damn paperwork and the mountains of information that Soshiro had to double-check almost daily were draining him to the bone. In short, everything was as usual. This feeling of stability and immutability seemed to protect him from surprises.

But not this day.

A timid knock came from behind the door. It was so unexpected for the guy that he flinched slightly.

“Come in.”

Seeing you in the doorway was a big surprise, as you were supposed to be asleep for two hours already.

“Y/n? Did something happen?” Soshiro completely turned away from his laptop and turned towards you, placing his hands on his lap.

“Yes. I saw the light behind this door and thought you weren't asleep.” Your soft voice was a delight to his ears.

“What? But you know I almost always stay late here. Is that really the reason for your coming?”

“Not at all, Captain.”

“Captain”? We're not in public. Why the formality? After a one-second pause, you slowly approached him, which only raised more questions for him. Your gaze was quite… uncharacteristically playful. His eyes were fixed on you. Inside the brunette was a complete mess of thoughts about what was about to happen. Not that your behavior scared him, just… it was very… unexpected for him?

To his bewildered surprise, you sat on the vice-captain's lap, facing him, with your legs spread on either side. From this gesture, Soshiro didn't even know where to put his hands. Blood began to slowly rush to his face. As if something whispered to you to do this specifically to embarrass him.

In one moment, your face came so close to his that the distance between you was just over an inch. Your sharp look would give anyone goosebumps. Even your deputy commander.

You gently run your finger across his lips, causing him to blush even further.

“It's okay. I just want you to relax a little.”

Without missing a beat, you slide under the table and get on your knees. If the deputy commander was a regular PornHub visitor, he would have understood what was going on.

But before he could think about it, you unbuckled his belt.

You look into his eyes. You were flattered by his reaction to what you were doing. Well, there was no point in him starting this game first.

Just under a week ago, you, like him now, had to experience mixed feelings. You guys were fucking all morning before work. Not only did you end up soaking wet, but Soshiro thought it was a good idea to take your panties for the whole day. This toothy, self-absorbed jerk hid them in his pocket stealthily, pretending he hadn't taken them at all, and spent the whole day holding back laughter at how you blushed and squirmed, being in a short skirt, just so no one would notice that you were without underwear. You were so cute when you glared at him maliciously from the crowd. He definitely deserved an award for the best prank.

“Get and sign, Soshiro.”

“Y/n… mf-f…”

Slowly squeezing out his pre-cum, you enjoyed his reaction, stroking his cock up and down while he trembled. You were in no hurry to take him in your mouth. Turns out, teasing Vice-Captain Hoshina was a very interesting sight. Tonight, you would give anything to see him like this, needy, cute boy.

“Y/n, n-no… what are you doing..? I can't right now…”

“Hm? You don't like it? Should I stop?” Oh, how skillfully you were playing with fire now, knowing he wouldn't say “yes.”

The brunette didn't know what to answer. On the one hand, it wouldn't be very pleasant if you were both like two vegetables the next day, or worse: Mina would see you. But on the other hand, it was truly necessary right now, besides, you looked damn enchanting, kneeling before him, with the knowledge that you could be seen. Just like in a cartoon erotic film.

“No, keep going.” The guy said with difficulty, continuing to watch your actions. Well, how can you refuse such a boy, right?

You run your warm tongue along his tip and the guy immediately flinches.

“Ready to cum already?” you tease.

“Just shut up and keep going.”

What a impatient one.

After playing with his tip, you run your tongue along the entire length.

Soshiro moans and groans. This is the first time you’ve seen him like this.

You continue running your tongue along his cock, giving him the feeling that you’re about to take it in your mouth. Just think, you’re so good at this…

“Y/n, please…”

“Please what?” You knew what it was, but you wanted him to say it himself.

“Please, let me cum…”

Heavy sighs filled the entire room, gradually making it more and more like a brothel. The realization of what was happening seemed to never quite reach the guy. The thought of saying it to your indecent desire, from which you can’t hide, made your fingers clench your hair. The tip went deep into your throat, pushing him down slightly, and the guy paralyzed by being hard, was completely in your power. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled in his head, if they were even there, then they were still very vague and unstable - you set this high note yourself. A little more - and you will reach that very end, where you will hear his loud moan.

“More… like this… aggh!”

To be honest, you were starting to feel sick. But it was worth it to see him worn out from such a pleasurable blowjob. If it weren’t for the incident with the panties, you would have melted in front of him.

“I’m at my limit… keep going, p-please…”

The tempo was increasing. It felt like you could go faster every second.

You didn’t have time to notice how your mouth was filled with hot cum, and Soshiro’s grip on your hair became much stronger. Trying to look into his eyes, you only saw his head thrown back against the back of the chair. From that angle, you could even see the veins in his neck bulging from tension. He is so good, after all.

Besides swallowing the cum and waiting for his further actions, you had no other choice.

“Fuck, damn… ” he exhaled barely audibly, overcome by dizziness and a surge of orgasm, “Come here, baby.” The guy reached out to you to pull you onto his lap.

Without rushing, you climbed out from under the table, wiped your mouth from the leftover cum, and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” The brunette asked, as if under stress.

“Where? To my room. It’s late.” Unusually for you, but quite funny to pretend to be a fool.

“What? Y-you can’t leave me here like that!” Soshiro yelled indignantly, blushing like a lobster.

“Shush, Vice-captain, they’ll hear you. Good night~”

“No! Wait!”

Before he could finish, with a soft chuckle, you slammed the door.

Poor Soshiro didn’t know what to do with his hard as jade dick. Hiding it now would be oh-so-very difficult.

“Damn… I think I messed up…”

[calicoheartz]

kate martin smut!!! Reader is stressed about school so kate takes it off her mind 😉😉

only if you want ofc🩷🩷

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ; 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍

꣑୧ — summary | kate x fem!reader where you’re stressed about school but kate shows you how good it feels to relax !

wc ; 821

— warnings | nsfw under the cut , suggestive content , fingering , head , etc r!recieving

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : im back from my little hiatus 😊 hope u guys enjoy this one , tysm for the requests & enjoy besties !

The library was almost empty, save for a few diligent students scattered across the tables. I was one of them, hunched over my laptop with a stack of textbooks surrounding me. Finals were approaching, and the pressure was unbearable. Every page I turned seemed to mock my inability to absorb the information.

“Hey, you okay?” a familiar voice broke through my haze of stress.

I looked up to see Kate Martin standing there, her eyes filled with concern. Kate had always been a source of comfort and strength for me. Her presence alone made the world feel a little less chaotic.

“Just trying to get through this mountain of work,” I sighed, rubbing my temples. “I don’t think I can take much more.”

Kate’s expression softened, and she took the seat next to me. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. How about we take a break?”

I shook my head. “I can’t. I have too much to do.”

Kate placed a hand on my arm, her touch warm and reassuring. “You need to relax. Trust me, it’ll help you in the long run.”

I hesitated, then nodded, knowing deep down that she was right. “Okay, just for a little while.”

We left the library and walked to Kate’s dorm, the cool evening air helping to clear my mind. Once inside, Kate put on some soft music and dimmed the lights, creating a calming atmosphere.

“Sit down,” she instructed gently, guiding me to the edge of her bed. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched as she disappeared into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a bottle of massage oil. My heart started to race, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside me.

“Lie down on your stomach,” Kate said, her voice soothing.

I obeyed, feeling the tension in my body start to melt away as I settled onto the bed. Kate straddled my hips, her hands working the oil into my shoulders and back. Her touch was firm yet gentle, each stroke easing the knots of stress that had built up over the past weeks.

“Just relax,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss the back of my neck. “Let me take care of you.”

Her lips trailed down my spine, sending shivers through my entire body. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensation. Kate’s hands continued their magic, and I could feel the last remnants of tension slipping away.

Kate’s hands roamed lower, her fingers brushing the hem of my shirt. She lifted it slowly, her touch igniting a fire within me. I arched my back slightly, a soft moan escaping my lips.

“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice husky with desire.

“Yes,” I breathed, my body yearning for her touch.

Kate’s hands moved with purpose, sliding under my shirt and caressing my bare skin. She leaned down, her breath hot against my ear. “I want to make you feel good,” she whispered, her words sending a thrill through me.

She kissed her way down my back, her hands skillfully removing my shirt. I turned over, meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes was one of pure adoration and desire. She leaned in, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

Our clothes soon lay forgotten on the floor, and Kate’s hands and lips explored every inch of my body. Her touch was electrifying, each movement driving me closer to the edge.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her lips grazing my collarbone.

I reached up, tangling my fingers in her hair and pulling her closer. “Kate, please,” I begged, needing her more than I had ever needed anything.

She moved between my legs, her mouth and hands working in perfect harmony. The pleasure built slowly, each wave more intense than the last. Kate’s name fell from my lips in a desperate whisper as she brought me to the brink.

When I finally reached my climax, it was like a dam breaking. The release was overwhelming, washing away all the stress and worry that had plagued me. I lay there, breathless and content, as Kate held me close.

We lay entwined on her bed, the room filled with the scent of massage oil and the sound of our slowing breaths. Kate stroked my hair, her touch tender and loving.

“Feel better?” she asked softly.

“Much better,” I replied, a smile tugging at my lips. “Thank you, Kate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She kissed my forehead. “You’ll never have to find out.”

I closed my eyes, feeling a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in weeks. Kate’s presence was a balm to my weary soul, and I knew that with her by my side, I could face anything.

As I drifted off to sleep in her arms, I felt a renewed sense of hope and strength. The stress of school was still there, but with Kate’s love and support, I knew I could conquer it.

a/n : yk I had to come back from my hiatus w some juicy smut !! tysm for reading :’)

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.

Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)

Word Count: 3.1k

series masterlist

A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today. 

The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money. 

A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects. 

You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.

You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.

Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither. 

You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.

Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you. 

You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom. 

And just at that moment, the apartment door opens. 

"What the hell?"

The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.

"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.

"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.

"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature. 

The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.

You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"

Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.

"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."

He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."

"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"

"This is not your apartment!"

Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.

"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops. 

Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"

The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"

The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"

Friends? Bought it in his name?

"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.

"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?

"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.

"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.

Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."

On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier. 

"I can explain." Fuck.

While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.

"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"

While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.

"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?

"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."

You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.

Well, it is, in theory. 

"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"

"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."

Sharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.

The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-

"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer. 

"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically. 

Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."

"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"

Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.

When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"

His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.

"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.

"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."

There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you. 

Private is private.

And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.

"All right."

Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.

Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-

"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."

"Dry wine is gross."

Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.

"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.

He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."

He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod. 

"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."

Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt. 

As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."

Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin. 

Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person. 

A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all. 

Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?

You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.

Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible. 

And apart from that - you don't have any other choice. 

Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.

That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.

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