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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

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MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it.

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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ellewritesx · 13 days ago

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please me slowly

(part three of the teach me slowly series)

Summary: Before he teaches you how to take him, he teaches you how to taste him.

Warnings: early stages of a relationship, age gap, lots of talk about virginity and sex, handjob, oral (m!receiving), brief accidental facefucking, gagging, praise kink, size kink

Based on: this ask!

A/N: part three is here who else cheered!!! lmk if you like this one, i get so happy when i hear from you guys :) also is this a safe space to say i used the my policeman bj scene for my descriptions..? omg who said that! enjoy lovelies x

Word Count: 4,633

...

Your breathing is finally beginning to level out, though your chest still rises and falls a little faster than usual. The air in the bedroom is warm and hushed, the only sound the soft whirr of the fan in the corner and the faint rustling of sheets as Harry shifts beside you.

One of his hands is resting on your back, rubbing lazy circles above the waistband of your shorts, his other arm curled beneath his head. He's quiet. So are you. It's not an uncomfortable silence, but it's loaded. Heavy with something unspoken.

You glance over at him, but he's already looking at you.

His eyes seem darker in the dim light, half-lidded and a little glazed over. His lips are pink and parted, and he looks utterly undone, his curls sticking out at odd angles, jaw shadowed with stubble, a flush blooming across his cheekbones. And yet, he's watching you like you're the most breathtaking thing he's ever seen.

That's when he says it.

''I think I'm in love with you.''

It's quiet. Barely more than a whisper, but the words hit you like a collision anyway, like falling into deep water. You don't move, don't speak, don't breathe. You feel the air between you tighten, like the universe itself is waiting for your reply.

He doesn't take it back. Doesn't panic or fill the space with anything else. He just stays silent, his thumb grazing your hip, waiting.

Your entire body goes still at the weight of those words, heart thudding wildly. The tenderness of them. How they sound in his voice, low and scratchy and still heavy with pleasure. You don't know what to say. You hadn't expected it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But as you lay there, staring at him, at his furrowed brows and the nervous twitch of his lips, you realize you've felt it for a while, too, your love for him blossoming with every day spent together.

You felt it the night he walked you home after your first date and respectfully kissed the corner of your mouth before stepping away, cheeks pink like he'd been psyching himself up for this moment since you left the botanical garden, hands shyly intertwined.

You felt it the time he picked you up for dinner, the sleeves of his blouse pushed up to his elbows and his hair a mess, like he'd brushed his hands through it too many times before knocking on your door. He handed you a bouquet of tulips and smiled nervously, dimples exposed; ''You said you liked the tulips in the garden on our first date.'' You blushed the entire drive to the restaurant.

You felt it the day you got sick out of nowhere, body aching, head spinning, tears on your cheeks from how miserable you felt. You'd called Harry to cancel your date, voice hoarse, nose stuffy, words interrupted by a constant stream of sniffles and sneezes.

He didn't hesitate.

He drove across the city with two bags of medication and your favourite snacks and let himself into your place with the spare key hidden under the doormat. When he stepped into your bedroom and saw your form tucked under the blankets, empty boxes of tissues surrounding you, he took a seat on your bed and brushed the sweaty hair from your forehead, startling you from your light slumber.

''Is this a fever dream?'' you'd asked timidly when you recognized his figure, making him snort softly. You scooted over on the mattress, and he pulled you into his chest. He picked up the book you had left on your nightstand and read to you until you fell asleep mid-sentence. You woke up hours later with his hand still stroking your hair.

You feel it in the little things. The way he presses a kiss to your temple when he slings his arm around your shoulders, making a soft 'mwah' sound every time. The way he puts his hand on the small of your back in crowded places because he knows they make you anxious.

The way he notices when you're quiet and asks questions, but never presses when you don't want to talk about it. The way he remembers how you take your coffee, the lyrics to all your favourite songs, the stories you tell when nobody seems to be listening.

But he always is.

You love him.

You're not even sure when it happened. It's like the tide, it snuck in slowly, pulling at your ankles, your knees, your ribs. And now it's pulling you under, and you can't do anything but drown in it.

Your voice wobbles when you speak, barely a whisper against his skin. ''I think I'm in love with you, too.''

His chest lifts under you. You feel it before you see it, the relief, the joy, the way his breath finally rushes out of him like he's been holding it since the moment he spoke. You lift your head, meet his eyes in the dim light. They're wide and hopeful. Happy.

''Yeah?'' he asks softly, grinning.

''Yeah. I really do.''

His lips brush yours, once, twice, before settling in, and you hum into it, curling your fingers against his collarbone. He kisses you, not with urgency, not with hunger, but with adoration. It's not just a kiss, it's a promise. A seal on something you both just admitted out loud.

You curl into him again, feeling the shift like sunlight through a window. This love is still new, still blooming, but it's real. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, smiling to yourself.

But now that your love has been laid bare between you, something else simmers beneath the warmth. You can feel the tension still in his body: how his breathing hasn't quite returned to normal, how his arm flexes just a little when you curl further into him. You're still basking in the lingering euphoria of your first orgasm, your limbs heavy and your skin tingling where he touched you.

It's only when you shift slightly against his body that you feel it, feel him. Hard against the soft cotton of his sweatpants, thick and hot, the outline unmistakable even under the fabric.

He spent tonight making sure you felt good, and he hadn't asked for anything in return. Hadn't even hinted.

You move your hand just enough to curiously brush across the outline of him. He tenses, not sharply, but noticeably, and when you glance up at him, his eyes have fluttered closed. He huffs a small breath out through his nose, like he's trying to collect himself, but there's still that same softness lingering in his expression.

"You're still…" you trail off, suddenly shy, like acknowledging it out loud makes it taboo somehow. Your palm stays right where it is, hovering close. His eyes open slowly.

"Still hard?" he supplies, voice low and amused, but not mocking. His thumb brushes lightly over the back of your hand. "I know, baby."

The words go straight to your stomach. You swallow, gathering the nerve, the question sitting heavy on your tongue.

''Does that make you uncomfortable? Sorry,'' he murmurs, brushing his lips over your temple. ''I've been trying to will it away, but...''

Your heart skips. The fact that he's still turned on after everything, still aching like that, makes something twist low in your belly, and as the haze of pleasure settles and the emotional weight of the night begins to anchor you back into your body, the thought forms, clear and certain. You want to make him feel good, too.

''Harry?''

He hums, the sound low in his chest. ''Mm?''

Your fingers trace a faint line along the waistband of his sweats, not quite bold enough to dip beneath it. ''Can I… I mean, would you teach me how to…?'' you trail off, unsure how to phrase it without sounding ridiculous. You huff out a soft laugh, flustered. ''I want to make you feel good. I just don't really know how.''

His eyes sharpen at that. He pushes himself up on one elbow, his hand moving to cup your cheek quickly.

"Hey, no, no, no. You don't have to do that, love," he rushes, and the tenderness in his voice is so immediate, so sincere, it almost makes you want to cry. "Not tonight. It's been an intense couple of hours."

You shake your head, leaning into his touch. "I know I don't have to, Harry. I want to. I want to learn. I want you to teach me."

He watches you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt, any trace of unease. But you hold his gaze. You know you want this. Want him. You've never felt more sure.

Harry exhales hard, eyes closing for a moment like he's trying to keep himself in check. When they open again, they're darker than before, lust pooling in his irises, but his tone stays gentle.

''You have no idea how badly I want to say yes right now,'' he assures you, voice strained. ''But only if you're certain.''

You nod shyly. His thumb traces the edge of your lip, and for a second, he just stares at you.

''Promise me something,'' he says.

You blink. ''Okay.''

''If you ever feel uncomfortable, or like you're doing it just because you think you have to… I want you to stop. Just tell me. I'll listen.''

Your heart squeezes. ''I promise.''

He smiles softly. ''God, you're perfect,'' he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then his voice drops. ''Fuck, I can't lie to you, baby. I've been dreaming about this. About your hands on me. Your mouth. Do you know how many cold showers I've had to take since meeting you? My water bill's gone through the roof,'' he groans.

You snort. ''You're ridiculous.''

''I'm serious!'' he insists, chuckling. ''You really don't know what you do to me, do you?''

You laugh again, your face heating, but something in about his honesty disarms you, makes you feel a little bolder. You shift closer, resting your hand gently on his bare chest, over the tattooed swallows and the nervous thud of his heart.

''Then maybe you should teach me,'' you say softly, looking up at him through your lashes. ''So I can help you the next time you've got... a problem, hm? Save some water.''

Harry groans again, dramatically, and rolls halfway onto his side, pressing his face into the pillow. ''You'll be the death of me.''

But when he looks at you again, there's something tender in his eyes. Adoration. Pride. And just a flicker of hunger that makes your stomach flutter in anticipation.

''Alright,'' he says, voice a little rough. ''I'll teach you.''

You nod, anticipation humming low in your belly as he leans in and kisses you, soft and slow, soothing your nerves. Your breath is already shallow when Harry gets comfortable against the pillows, the soft cotton of his sweatpants stretched, tented, and you can see now just how hard he is, thick, long, and straining beneath the fabric.

You glance at his face, and he's watching you. Patiently, eyes half-lidded but full of warmth. ''C'mere,'' he encourages quietly, and reaches for your hand, guiding it to rest over him again.

You tilt your head questioningly, and he nods briefly. ''Just here,'' he instructs, his voice scratchy with restraint. ''You feel me?''

You nod, lips parted in awe. You do feel him, all of him, heavy and hard under the soft cotton. Your fingers twitch slightly, instinctively curling, and the quiet, shaky breath that leaves him is nothing short of ruined. His eyes flutter closed for a second.

''Start slow,'' he whispers, tilting his head to look down until his forehead brushes your temple. ''Just… cup me. Like that, yeah.''

You do as he says, more confident now that his hand stays with yours. Your fingers adjust and you cradle him through the fabric, the shape of him unmistakable now. You don't know what you expected, but this is… a lot. He's so warm even through the clothes, and so hard that it makes your stomach flutter in ways you've never felt before.

''Good girl,'' he says absentmindedly, and a shiver runs down your spine at the praise, but if Harry notices, he doesn't comment on it. ''Slow, baby. Light pressure. Move your hand like this.''

His hand moves yours, showing you a rhythm, the kind of touch that makes his jaw clench and his hips twitch upward. Your body is laid sideways next to his, and when you glance up at him, his lips are parted and his chest is rising and falling faster, tattoos stretching with every breath. You feel your cheeks heat. You've never made anyone feel like this before. You've never had this kind of power.

''Does that feel okay?'' you ask softly.

His breath hitches. ''More than okay,'' he rasps. ''Fucking incredible.''

The way he says it makes you press your thighs together instinctively. You keep stroking him the way he taught you, watching the way his eyes darken, how the crease between his brows deepens, the way his mouth tugs downward in that desperate kind of pleasure.

You feel pride bloom in your chest. Maybe you don't know exactly what you're doing, but he seems to be falling apart anyway.

It's your hand, but it barely feels like yours with how new this is, how electrifying. You cup him gently, and he exhales hard through his nose. The heat of him seeps through the layers, pulsing, and your fingers twitch, trying to figure out what he reacts to best.

''Shit,'' he breathes, hips tipping up just a little. ''That feel okay for you, baby?''

You nod, too breathless to speak.

It's intoxicating, the way his cock twitches under your palm, responding to the smallest movement, the way his muscles go taut beneath the surface of his skin. You drag your hand along the ridge of him, slow and curious, and it pulls another sound from his chest, a low, breathy groan that settles deep in your spine.

And then his hand slips back over yours, guiding you over the fabric. ''Try this,'' he murmurs. ''Not too hard, yeah? Just enough to tease.''

You do as he says, moving a little slower now, more deliberately. He twitches in your hand again and curses under his breath. ''That's it. You're doin' so good, baby.''

His praise makes you feel warmer than anything else. You hadn't realized how badly you wanted to be good at this until now. You want to be good for him. The idea that you can make him feel this way, that you're the one unraveling him, it's heady, addictive.

He watches you for another beat. Then, gently, he brings your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants.

''Can I…?'' he asks.

You swallow hard. ''Yeah. Okay.''

He nods once, giving you a reassuring smile, and then carefully slides your hand underneath. The moment your fingers brush hot skin, your breath catches. There's no fabric separating you now, just burning heat and firm skin beneath your palm. He groans, biting down on his bottom lip like he's trying to keep it together, but his hips stutter and rise to meet your touch anyway, like he can't help it.

''Oh my god,'' you whisper.

When you finally wrap your fingers around him, skin to skin, it feels like the air leaves both your lungs at once. He lets out a moan, low and guttural, his head tipping back against the pillow. ''Fuck, baby…'' His chest heaves, muscles flexing. His lips part around a soft moan and then he throws his arm over his face, overwhelmed.

It's the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

''You're doing so good,'' he mumbles into the crook of his elbow. ''So fucking good for me.''

The praise hits you hard. You keep your strokes slow and steady, adjusting your hand the way he guides you, your movements growing more natural, more confident with every second. He's warm and heavy in your palm, and you can feel every subtle pulse, every twitch under your touch. He's so responsive to you. It's intoxicating. You can't help but wonder what he looks like underneath the fabric.

His arm slips away from his face, and he looks at you again, searching to make sure you're still okay. But when he just sees curiosity burning in your eyes, he chuckles softly. ''Want me to take them off, love?''

You nod bashfully.

Slowly, he shifts his hips, hooking his thumbs into his waistband, and pulls his sweatpants down just far enough to free himself. You freeze.

Your mouth goes dry. ''Jesus,'' you whisper, stunned. ''How is that supposed to fit inside of me?''

That gets a huff of laughter from him, but when you glance up, he's biting down on the inside of his cheek, like he's trying not to smirk.

''Thanks, baby. Y'alright? We can stop if this makes you uneasy, love,'' he says with an amused smile.

''No! No,'' you say quickly, though your face is still burning. ''I'm just… surprised, is all. And maybe a little intimidated. You're...'' you trail off pointedly, biting your lip in embarrassment.

Harry's face splits into a grin so smug it borders on cocky, and his chest puffs out slightly. You see it, the pride, but he reins it in immediately, choosing instead to cup your cheek.

''We'll figure it out together when we get there,'' he promises, his voice velvet and reassuring. ''We've got time. No rush.''

You nod, eyes wide as you look down again. His hand returns to yours, helping you find the right rhythm again, the right amount of pressure. He's a mess for you in seconds, breath stuttering, eyes squeezed shut. His fingers flex in the sheets beside him.

''Fuck, baby,'' he groans. ''Don't stop. You're doing so fucking good. Look at you.''

You can't look away from his face, his flushed cheeks, the shine on his collarbone, the way his Adam's apple bobs with every desperate breath. He's beautiful like this. Raw. Real.

And the fact that you're the one making him fall apart makes something fierce bloom in your chest.

You look down. He's so much bigger than you expected. Thick and long and hot in your hand, silky-soft skin over rock-hard muscle, and the size of him alone has your brain reeling. You blink a few times, watching your hand slowly move over him. It's almost hypnotic.

He notices your gaze and strains to lift his head, a choked moan escaping his parted lips at the sight below him. His brows pinch together as he watches the way you please him. When you speed up slightly, he presses a quick, appreciative kiss to your temple before dropping back into the pillows with a loud groan.

''That's good, baby,'' he breathes. ''So good. Keep goin' like that, just—yeah, there.''

He's a mess already, sweating lightly, those gorgeous tattoos of his rising and falling with every breath. His abs contract every time you stroke a little tighter, a little faster.

''God, you've got no idea what you do to me,'' he curses.

You glance up, heart stuttering at the sight of him. His head is tipped back, exposing his sharp jawline, one hand resting on his chest, the other gripping the bedsheets, knuckles white. His breath is ragged, little hitches in his throat every time you stroke down to the base. You can't stop looking at him. He's everything at once: powerful and undone, masculine and gentle, controlled and unraveling.

All because of you. And that knowledge makes you bolder.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the center of his chest, right over the butterfly tattoo. His breath catches, then spills out in a broken ''Jesus.''

You smile against his skin.

He drops one hand to your wrist, not to stop you, just to slow you down, to anchor himself. His eyes open again, and when they find yours, there's something unspoken there. Gratitude. Awe. Maybe a little disbelief, too, like he still can't believe you're real and not a fantasy he's made up in his mind on a lonely night.

''Just... just need to catch my breath. You okay?'' he asks carefully, barely above a whisper.

You nod, biting your lip, fingers still moving steadily. ''You?''

''On the edge,'' he says with a chuckle that bleeds into a moan when you squeeze him gently. ''Shit. I'm close. I don't want to... I don't want this to be over yet. Wanna stay in this moment forever,'' he rambles.

You press your forehead lightly to his shoulder, overwhelmed in the best way. You never thought giving could feel like this.

You've slowed down your movements at his instruction, your hand loose and wet around him, dragging in slow strokes that let him breathe again, let him hold on just a little longer.

One of his arms is slung across his face, mouth open with a shaky breath, and every now and then, when you hit a rhythm or twist your wrist the way he likes, a curse slips from his lips.

You watch him like he's art, tattoos shifting over his skin with every inhale, that crease between his brows digging in deeper. He's beautiful like this, and you don't want it to end either.

But curiosity burns through your chest like a forest fire, and he had told you that you could ask him anything you wanted to know. You shift closer, eyes flicking up to his face. ''Harry?''

His arm slides off his face immediately, revealing flushed cheeks and soft, concerned eyes. ''Yeah, baby?''

You hesitate. ''Does it… feel good when someone uses their mouth?''

The question makes his eyebrows jump, and for a second he just blinks at you, dazed. ''You mean a blowjob?''

You nod shyly, heart pounding.

''Yeah,'' he says slowly, cautiously. ''Yeah, they can feel really good. Why do you ask?''

''I've seen it in movies. Guys always seem to really like it.'' You glance at him, cheeks warm in the dim light. ''Do you?''

He exhales slowly, gaze drifting upward to the ceiling, as though considering how to answer honestly without overwhelming you. ''Yeah. It's… it's really nice.''

''I wanna try,'' you admit, barely above a whisper. ''Will you teach me?''

Harry sits up straighter, instantly more alert. ''Love. You don't have to. Seriously.'' His hand finds your wrist, and gently stills it. ''You've already done so much tonight. We don't have to rush anything.''

''I know,'' you tell him, and you do. ''But I want to. I just… I keep thinking about it. I want to know what it's like.''

He watches you for a long beat, breathing hard, like he's trying to gauge if this is really what you want or if you're just trying to be generous. ''You sure?''

You nod. ''I trust you.''

That makes something flicker in his expression.

Still, he hesitates. ''Alright, but we're going to take it slow. You tell me if anything feels wrong or uncomfortable, yeah? Just squeeze my thigh, or say you want to stop, and I'll back off.''

''Okay,'' you whisper, shifting onto your knees, your palms braced beside his thighs.

''Can I hold your hair back?' he asks for your permission. ''Just to keep it out of your face, baby.''

You nod again, and he reaches forward to delicately gather it into a loose ponytail in his hand. It's surprisingly tender, the way he gathers your strands, thumb brushing the back of your neck. It makes your stomach flip, nerves flaring.

''Start with your hand again,'' he instructs softly. ''Nice and easy, like before.''

You wrap your hand around him again, fingers trembling a little, but he's already twitching against your palm. You glance up at him for reassurance, and he gives you the softest smile, nodding once.

''Just lick the tip first,'' he tells you, voice gone hoarse.

You close the gap and drag your lips along the underside in a soft, feather-light kiss at first. Your cheeks are warm with nerves, but Harry's encouraging grunt makes your confidence grow.

''That's it… good girl.''

The words hit something in your chest. You lean back in, tongue flicking experimentally over the head of him, tasting salt and skin and something deeper. It's strange, but not bad. He groans, hips shifting subtly beneath you, and you feel the tremor run through his thighs. You keep going, tentative licks and kisses, building your confidence as he murmurs encouragements, his voice wrecked and reverent.

''You're doing so good,'' he breathes. ''Feels fucking incredible, angel.''

You wrap your lips around him slowly, taking him shallow at first, cheeks hollowed. It's more than you expected, thick and heavy on your tongue, but you take your time, getting used to the new sensation. Harry's breathing gets rougher, his hand tightening ever so slightly in your hair. He's not pushing, not guiding, just grounding himself. You like knowing you have that kind of effect on him.

But then, as you grow bolder and take him a little deeper, his hips buck at the sudden pleasure. You gag, eyes watering instantly as you pull back with a surprised sound, coughing lightly.

''Fuck! Fuck, I'm sorry,” Harry blurts, immediately sitting up and reaching for you, his face filled with panic. ''I didn't mean to. I swear, baby. Are you okay?''

You nod, eyes still watering, hand on your chest as you catch your breath. He's already brushing your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead, his whole body practically vibrating with guilt.

''That was too much,'' he says, clearly shaken. ''Let's stop. You've done enough for today.''

But you grab his wrist. ''No,'' you say, voice soft but steady. ''I want to keep going. Let me try again.''

He stares at you suspicious, brows lifting. ''You sure?''

''Mhm. Just maybe don't shove it down my throat this time?'' you joke, trying to lift the mood.

A beat of silence, then a laugh slips out of him. ''Duly noted.''

You grin, leaning back in, and this time it's smoother. You find a rhythm, guided by the whimpered moans and muttered praises leaving his lips. His hand stays in your hair, occasionally brushing the back of your neck or guiding you just a little. You feel powerful, beautiful, despite how new it all is.

At one point, his free hand covers his eyes again, and his stomach flexes so hard you have a feeling he'll be sore tomorrow morning. He mutters your name like a prayer, hips subtly rocking into your mouth. ''So good,'' he pants. ''Fuck, darlin', you're so good at this. Can't believe this is your first time. You're a natural, love.''

You hum around him, and the vibration from the sound makes him curse under his breath.

He's breathing hard, thighs tense under your hands, and then he gasps. ''Gonna come, baby, get off if you don't wanna—''

But you don't move. You look up at him with wide, determined eyes, and keep going.

''Shit,'' he curses under his breath when you look up at him through your lashes. ''You're so fucking stubborn—''

He breaks with a sound that wrecks you, long and guttural. His hand tightens in your hair, his whole body shuddering as he spills into your mouth, and you do your best, swallowing carefully, surprised by the heat and taste. You pull off when he hisses from the overstimulation, and he falls back against the pillows like he's been hit by lightning, chest rising and falling in deep, ragged breaths.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crawl up next to him, shy again, suddenly unsure. ''Was that… okay?''

''Baby, I think I saw heaven.''

...

thank you so much for reading! i appreciate any and all support so remember to like, comment and reblog. requests are open! 💕

general tag list

@2601-london @mads3502 @angeldavis777 @run-for-the-hills @postsexfistbump @hobireasns @madilee7802 @spinninc @practistyles @qrapejuices @fangirl509east @sstylezzz @hontpwk @lichi-dunkera @prettygurl-2009 @violinheartxx @gotthecinema @ghstyles @triski73

teach me slowly series tag list

@maddiesalvatore1839 @mleestiles @imaginexxharry @litlmisss @billweasleyswife @rockmelikeahurricaneee @nikkihs

...

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onlyheluvsme · 2 months ago

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u don't know how badly i need more big clit abby...

cockwarming her maybe? while she just sits there so overstimulated? r u seeing my vision?

oh i see your vision and I fucking love it. you're a fucking genius anon!!

˗ˏˋbig clit!abby iii´ˎ˗

overstimulating big!clit abby — mdni, lowercase intended, smut, mentions of: cockwarming, overstim, oral, fingering, me being too much lol *ೃ༄ pls leave reqs!!

parts: one-two | three

she heaved underneath you, hands gripping at the hem of her sweater that you currently wore. your back rests against hers comfortably, her enlarged clit fit snug inside you.

abby had already come twice only from your slight movements as you got comfortable on top of her. the torture felt too good to tell you to get up though, she wanted to know how long she could take it. the feeling of your fluttering walls around her was a bliss she wouldn't let go of yet.

you paid no mind to her, no matter how wet you actually were. no, each moment your eyes stayed on your book, reading it to her like you weren't forming a pool of her come and your arousal on the bed beneath you.

"hmm baby i can't read this word, what does it say?" you tease and bend around lightly to show her the book, causing yourself to slightly shift. abby almost curled in at the feeling of your walls rubbing against her sensitive clit. her hands gripped the hem of your sweater and dropped her head to your shoulder for a second to gather herself.

"u-uh its...m-metempsychosis" she gets out shakily after lifting her head. you continue on with your reading, abby half hearing you. the squelching between your thighs is all she can focus on,

"hey baby" she says in a daze,

"yes?" you ask, eyes still on your book.

"c-can you move just a little bit please baby i'm so close" she pants from behind you. abby's hands come up from gripping your sweater to slipping their hands inside and glide them along your skin.

you let out a slight giggle at her desperation, going back to your book but this time slowly circling your hips.

abby falls back against her headboard, mind going hazy at the feeling of you around her, the smell of you combining with hers on her sweater, the warm come dripping down your thighs onto hers. it was all too much.

abby's thighs twitched underneath you as her third orgasm began to wash over her. the circles you did with your hips were so light and barely there, yet abby felt everything. with her eyes close and mouth open her hips bucked slightly causing a loud moan to fall from her lips as her clit sank deeper into you,

"fuck baby, i can't take it" she whined, come leaking between her thighs. you tilt your head back, slightly nervous she was too overstimulated.

"want me to get up?" you ask,

"no no! five more minutes" she begs quickly.

"what a greedy girl you are" you smirk down at her flushed face, turning back around to your book, back to ignoring her.

abby let out half a cry-half a whine, arms coming out from under your sweater to find your thighs. your circling had ceased, forcing her to chase her own orgasm.

you never understood why she loved doing this so much, always begging to 'cock warm' you and yet she turned into a mess and couldn't handle it every time.

abby's own thighs spread, the air hitting the wet between her thighs making it feel cold. her hands come up to you hips slowly and pushes you down,

"fuck fuck!" she calls out, the feeling too much after her third orgasm.

"why are you torturing yourself, my love?" you ask in a absent minded voice, eyes still on your book.

her hips buck again and come starts squirting lightly onto the mattress. you let out a tsk, finally ending her torture, but not before giving her a fourth orgasm.

you drop the book to the other side of the bed and quickly spread your legs. one of your hands comes down to where the two of you are connected. abby's body instinctively curls into you from behind, hands wrapping around your torso,

"f-fuck what are you-" you cut her off, beginning a bounce on her sensitive clit and use your middle finger to rub your finger back and forth under her clit and around her aching hole.

"baby!' she calls out, legs beginning to quiver within seconds, it doesn't take her long at all.

soon enough you feel a dam break under your finger as abby's squirt streams out of her in spurts. you continue your massaging on her hole and under her clit as she works herself through her final orgasm.

you give her a second before sliding off of her, knowing she couldn't handle anymore attention to her poor clit. you turn around to find her flopped onto the bed on her back, eyes half open in bliss, come all over her cunt and thighs.

"well don't you look pretty?" you bend over her brushing a stray hair behind her ear,

her cheeks stay pink as you clean her, your careful of her swollen and sensitive clit as you clean her. unable to prevent yourself from leaving one small kiss to its tip as you clean her cunt, watching her whole body twitch when your lips come down onto it lightly.

she looked just too pretty in that angle, laid back, worn cunt and puffy clit just staring at you.

"maybe you can handle one more?" you look up at her, passed the enlarged clit just beginning for one more kiss,

"wha-" she starts but your tongue has already shot out to give the tip of her clit a swipe.

"fuck!" she calls out, eyes shooting open.

without warning your entire mouth comes down onto her sensitive clit, fingers finding her weeping hole in seconds. abby can't help but spread her legs as wide as possible, eyes crossing at the stimulation of your lips wrapping around her entire clit. the suctions of your mouth combined with the rapid flicks of your tongue cause another orgasm to wash over her.

abby's legs shake around your head as she comes for the final time, come hitting your neck and down to your chest. abby thinks she blacks out for a second as the orgasm washes through her. the two of you had played around with overstimulation but were always too nervous to go all the way.

your mouth released its suction on her, letting abby finally rest. you leave a trail of kisses up her body till you find her sweet mouth, biting lightly on her plump lower lip.

"h-hi baby" she says and you giggle at how cute she is post orgasm,

"hi baby" you brush her cheeks with your fingers.

"that feel good" abby rolls on her back, taking you with her.

"yeah?"

"mm" she smiles, eyes closed. you can't help but stare at her face, cheek bones strong, freckles doting her nose. everything about this girl was fucking perfect.

[bc abby masterlist]

[abby masterlist]

#lulu writes ✧₊⁺#lulu writes abby⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#abby anderson #abby anderson x female reader #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby x you #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #abby fluff #abby the last of us

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bunnis-monsters · 9 months ago

Text

Fighting like vampires and dogs

Vampire x Fem!Reader x Werewolf

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 2nd

Oct 1

Oct 3

warnings: public sex, threesome, knotting, breeding, blood drinking, two ps in one v, possessive behavior

summary: You’ve been friends with the werewolf and vampire for a few years now, and they’re both head over heels in love with you… but they hate each other! It takes them saving you from a common enemy to realize sharing is caring…

🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇

It wasn’t uncommon for your two friends to bicker over who got to spend time with you, but it was unusual for them to get so violent.

“I told you, this week she’s mine.” your werewolf friend sneered, bearing his canines as he stood on his haunches.

“And like I’ve said, I couldn’t give less of a shit about what a filthy mutt has to say. This week, she’s MINE!” your vampire friend retorted, hissing as his brown eyes turned red and his fangs extended, ready to sink into the wolf’s flesh.

“That’s enough!”

You smacked them both over the head, huffing. “You can both come with me to the club tonight! It’ll be fun, maybe you’ll even bond together.”

It wasn’t easy getting them to go out with you… ut the second you suggested going alone they were already picking out something to wear.

The two were protective, staying at your side and watching your short dress, making sure it didn’t ride up. Anyone that dared to look at you were emt with menacing glares and flashes of sharp teeth…

Despite them hovering over you constantly, all it took was a slight bump from the other to set them off.

“Fuck, don’t touch me, mutt. I’m only here for her, you should just leave.”

“Oh really? Why don’t I rip out your throat and show you how much a mutt I am?”

You attempted to stop them, but your pleas fell on deaf ears.

But after fighting for a bit, they were suddenly alerted to your cries for help. Even over the loud music and their own angry screams, they recognize recognize your scared voice.

“Angel?”

They made their way through the crowd, spotting you being cornered by a tall man. You were looking around frantically, relief spreading across your face when you spotted them.

Within seconds the man was torn away from you and stomped into the club’s floor. You chose to ignore the bloody remains, instead stepping over him and into your friends’ arms.

“Thank you…”

They realized then that no matter how much they hated each other, they loved you so much more. Your safety and happiness would always come first…

And that’s why they both grew hard against you, their hands traveling to your hips and thighs.

Soon you were back on the dance floor, squished between your two friends as they kissed you. The vampire bit down on your neck, drinking your blood as the werewolf rubbed his fat cock against your wert panties.

“W-what if they notice?”

They both nuzzled against you, the vampire dry humping against your fat ass.

“They won’t, the music is loud and everyone is focused on dancing.”

You yelped as your friend’s cock pushed into you, stretching out virgin hole. You were too wet to protest, knowing that after this night your relationship with your two best friends would be changed forever.

He tried his best not to knot you immediately. He had wanted this for so long, and all your werewolf friend wanted was to fill your belly was his cum and knock you up.

The vampire groaned, stroking his cock as he looked over your shoulder, watching the werewolf’s cock push in and out of you. Soon, you felt something else prodding at your hole, wanting access.

Two cocks were inside of you now, and you felt impossibly full. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was love, but your heart was fluttering and so were your gummy walls.

You came around them, the werewolf quickly knotting you as they both came inside.

Both cocks were trapped inside of you, the vampire burying his face into your neck as his cock rubbed against the werewolf’s fat knot.

“Mmph… happy to see my boys getting along…”

Want a part 2? Send me a kofi and ask for it~

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat

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theothernads · 2 months ago

Text

𓂃 ִֶָ𐀔 SUMMER: — WHEN THEY TAKE YOU TO THE BEACH — OT7 𐙚 ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

─────────────────────────────────

✧₊⁺ SYNOPSIS: The things they would do if the sun was shining, and the only thing on the itenary was going to the beach

ִֶָ࣪☾.pairing: bf!Enha x f!reader ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

✧₊⁺ warnings: suggestive, kissing, innuendos, biting (?), teasing, skinship, swearing so MDNI

word count: 2k+ ₊˚⊹♡

DREAM LIBRARY: 𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

ִֶָ࣪☾.[NOTES]: okay, can you believe this was in my drafts since last year?? me either. but, i finally finished it and i am so glad that i did. i lwk giggled whilst writing this. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

────────────˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚────────────

LEE HEESEUNG ✧₊⁺

◇beach house, beers by the beach, and sleeping on the sand.

• Heeseung gets SO giggly. Like, he may be the oldest of Enha, but he was born to be the maknae.

• He's literally telling you what shirts to wear, and when you looked at the choices, they looked exactly the same.

"Babe, they're the same," you say. To which Heeseung gives an offended look before holding them 2 inches from your face as if it swayed your decision.

"They're not even the same colour."

"They are."

• Anyway, bro books a little room, beach house thing but it's so impulsive. He just was scrolling and came into the room and was like: "you wanna go to the beach?"

• And you would be like: "Yeah, sure."

• "Good because we're going tomorrow."

• "..."

• So if we skip to the beach day after the panic packing, Heeseung always makes sure to give you the lightest bags before checking into the room.

• And he's so glad it turns out nicer than the price

• I feel like he wouldn't even unpack, he would just wear his shorts and t-shirt with a cooler full of drinks before saying: "let's gaur 😎"

• You made sure to get his headphones instead of earphones, knowing he would definitely lose it.

• Anyways, he sets down the mat, sits with you and is silent only for a few minutes before he's giggling and kissing you all over.

• You have no idea where his burst of energy came from, but he's laying underneath the sun with you, lips planted at the corner of your lips, and it swelled your heart up to the point you were breathless when he was done.

• And then, he's back to being silly as he gets his phone and drags you to the water. You nearly trip, because he's tall as heck, and you can't keep up easily.

• Once in the water, he's taking the most gf pics of you for your Instagram, and you do the same. And right after you give his phone back, he smirks.

• He's defo the type to tackle you into the water.

"Babe."

"Yeah?" You asked whilst examining a shell you found. He didn't reply, and the next thing you know, you're gasping in alarm and screaming when he tugged you to the cool water by your waist.

You couldn't see until your head bobbed above the surface of the water and you rubbed your eyes.

Heeseung was giggling beside you, his pink hair drenched, a wide smile that broke your current glare. But the way his smile darted back at you made your nerves soften. And you weren't truly angry.

"Asshole."

• Anyway, Heeseung apologised but it was an excuse to see you drenched in your swimsuit. He kept that secret to himself though.

• Would defo take pictures underwater, making you take videos of him. And he would take one of you two together, and would attempt to take a video of you and him connecting lips in the salty water.

• But he ended up missing the whole shot because it was way too shaky and there were way too many bubbles lmao.

• Anyway, when you're back in the sand, you're sitting between his legs as he dries your hair with a towel, the sun hitting both you and him as it hits 5 pm.

• But the day isn't over yet- he grabs the cooler and takes out two beers with the softest smile ever filled with tenderness, his hair slicked back, brown eyes staring into yours as if you were the shoreline crashing into his thoughts.

• You and him drank the beer, sensing his sincere gaze on you. He would defo comment how he wants a 2nd one, and you would laugh and tease him about not getting drunk.

"I'm not carrying you if you pass out on the beach." You sigh and look at your boyfriend, who has almost finished eighty per cent of the drink.

"Babe, I'm not going to pass out."

• He's an awful liar because he did end up sleeping on the warm bed of sand.

• So you took the opportunity to buy a bucket and spade, and you dug around his figure.

• Soon enough, Heeseung went to itch his nose but found a gravity weighing his hand in place.

• Bro thought he was in sleep paralysis, but when he opened his eyes, he saw you giggling behind a blue spade, trying to conceal the cheeky grin. And he realised you trapped him underneath heap of sand.

"Really, babe?"

"That's what you get for thinking you would stay awake."

• But all in all, if he slept then, he would be plenty awake for the night (iykyk)

PARK JONGSEONG✧₊⁺

◇big summer hats, heart sunglasses and yapping sessions.

• Jay is the type to just plan.

• He loves planning in a way — but not loud planning, more like planning for what to do in that intimate time you and him have together for the summer. And what other way than...

• The beach!!

• Oh, when I said he's a planner — he is a planner. In fact, he planned it down to the type of specific sunscreen you wear. You didn't mind it because you were slightly incompetent in taking care of yourself sometimes.

• Jay would put you in charge of packing some clothes, bathing suits, and he would plan the food.

• Outside food? Nahhh

• It's Jay food this time. And he wraps them all in pretty foil, packs them in his aesthetic picnic basket.

• That he totally borrowed from you, and didn't order it for himself!!

• You added a bow on it to ease his denial <3

• Anyways the beach!! He picked the perfect day, perfect time.

• You couldn't be more happier! And oh — Jay loved you in your bathing attire, but...

• SUNSCREEN!!! He would pull you back and make sure to put it everywhere.

• When you grumbled about how you didn't need sunscreen that much, he would huff and press soft kisses to your back, shoulders, nape, stomach, and suddenly, you liked applying sunscreen!!.

• And since you were in charge of outfits...

"Jongie!! I got us hats, matching ones!" You exclaimed, digging into the back of the car.

Jay didn't mind it—not until you pulled out some kind of huge, straw-like hats the size of a supreme large pizza. He gaped.

"Babe?"

You just shoved it on his head, and you were both matching, and of course, you took a picture. He was confused in the scene, but you knew he secretly loved it because he didn't take it off. A win is a win.

• Once settled, he doesn't go in the water just yet, but you and him definitely have a sandcastle competition of who can make the most royal castle ever.

• You tried so hard for yours. And he pulled out his own skills, making it smooth, his lips jutted out in small pout of concentration, black hair falling easily over his eyes.

• You found it thoroughly adorable, but, even then, you kept working.

• He won. Like damn. It was insulting. You spent so long doing your one, but he made about 4 castles, perfect shapes, seashells that he popped out of the sand.

• This time, you pouted.

• Jay, being the complete softie, gave a chaste kiss and awarded you the sandcastle Queen. 🤭

"You just made me win because you're smitten," you sighed, crossing your arms as you stared at your lone castle with an empty moat.

Jay chuckled, pulling you into his arms from behind, tucking your head under his chin.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"..."

"No," you mumbled with a hidden smile.

• For the water, he would let you dip yours and his feet in, walking up to the shore until knee deep.

• I don't feel like he wouldn't push you in aggressively, but he would definitely bridal carry you in.

• Even if you said no.

• He would giggle and set you in before joining you, hugging you in the water.

• You would be lying if you said it didn't make you heat up and hide your face into his neck.

• After that, a picnic was needed. So were his glasses.

"Jongie, we're under the umbrella, why are you wearing sunglasses?" You asked, unpacking the picnic with him.

The sound of foil crinkled in the air, and Jay hummed, as if pondering.

"Baby, it's tradition, a canon event—"

"Or, you're old," you interjected, making Jay scoff.

Next thing you knew, he snatched away your sandwich and bit into it.

You, in equal retaliation, tackled him to the ground.

• The food was so delicious. You wanted to eat everything (including him) WHO SAID THAT??

• But, real tradition was having ice cream, so, whilst you and him waited in line, he began expressing his deep love for his all time loved songs.

• Bon Jovi, but how he desired to replicate it with his guitar. Jane, as he called her.

"Jongie, do you have to name your guitars like they're your children?"

"Absolutely. And technically, they're your children as well," he said, so serious that it made you laugh.

"I never realised I embraced motherhood so early." You nudged his side. He, in response, wrapped an arm around your waist, facing you with an easy, but sincere smirk.

"No wonder why you're glowing."

What a flirt.

• Regardless, the day was spent with you and him talking.

• Talking all the way until the sunset appeared and made his skin glow more honey than ever.

• What a perfect way to end the day.

"Jongie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I eat you?"

Jay gave a bewildered chuckle before jokingly offering an arm to you. He didn't expect you to actually bite into his bicep though.

"Wait, why did I like that?"

"Jay!"

SIM JAEYUN✧₊⁺

☾. Sandcastles, ice creams, cannon balls, sweet kisses all around

• Sim Jaeyun. Was. Absolutely. Hyper.

• Summer was here? The first ray of sunshine? He was up and damn ready to get to the beach.

• It was a little spontaneous, but you didn't mind it.

• But, he was enthusiastic. Tomorrow, 9 am get up, 11 am LEAVE ON THE DAMN DOT.

• You thought he was joking. But then...

The blanket was cocooning you into the bed, but did Jake particularly care? Not really.

In an instant, he came to the side of the bed, and YANKED the blanket so hard, you woke up.

Groaning, you tucked your head under your pillow. "Jake, what's the deal?"

"The deal was the beach! It's 9.02 am, and you're not awake," he said, hands on hips, and you could hear the sulk woven in his voice.

"What time did you even wake up?" You mumbled. And he scoffed.

"Literally 9.00. On the dot," he said, making you glance up. He was in his robe, as if he showered, with damp hair. You raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you dressed? Did you not brush your teeth?"

"Multi-tasked," he answered simply. And, you think he brushed his teeth in the shower as well.

• Once you did get up for the beach, he blasted some songs, literally jumping in his drivers seat.

• You were convinced he would stop at the side of the highway when a certain part came. He didn't.

• Yet.

• Anyway. The beach was slightly busy, but Jake was so passionate, carrying all the bags for about 10 minutes until the perfect spot appeared.

• You're glad he didn't make you carry much. You're still his pretty princess after all 😞🩷

• When you did find the spot, he literally dropped everything and swam to the ocean.

• You couldn't stop him. Because he literally jumped into the water, clothes on and all.

• You gaped, but you couldn't restrain him. Not when he bobbed his head up the water and grinned like he had experienced something he yearned for.

• After setting up the picnic place yourself with a blanket, he got out, literally shook his head like a dog.

• And then, sandcastle wars!!

• You were determined. If his passion was getting up on time, yours was getting a perfect land for your castle.

• Except, yours looked so pretty with the shells, sticks, seaweed.

• And his?

• Looked like a sad excuse of a hut💔.

• So, he broke yours.

As you happily patted about the sandcastle's exterior, you felt a presence behind you, like a shadow. With a slow turn, you met his gaze.

"Yes..?"

"Let me help you," he said with a smile that was too sweet to be true. Even then, his smile broke your defences, and you nodded.

Biggest mistake.

As soon as he got the spade to pat with you, he just happened to pat too hard, causing a few thousand cracks to appear.

And then, it absolutely broke. Along with your seashells. And sticks. And seaweed. Your shoulders slumped, a tide of desolation washing over you within a second.

"Jake..." you whined, hitting his shoulder so hard he fell back into the sad, laughing.

But with your genuine pout and dejected gaze, how could he just laugh.

With a tender hug, he engulfed you from the side, pressing kisses to your cheeks, jaw, neck until you let a smile curl at your lips.

"There's my girl... I'm sorry," he said, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

• Now, was pictures. Whilst you rebuilt your sandcastle, he took about a thousand too many pictures.

• You told him to stop. But he shook his head, saying you looked way too adorable and amazing.

• You think it was an excuse to just pics of you in a bathing suit. He could just say it.

• It's not like he's full of shame 🤡🥀

• For the rest of the afternoon, you and him took selfies with filters, silly ones and cute ones.

• And the best ones were when you saw his grin light up your damn phone. As if his smile was the treasure locked inside your phone only for you to see.

• And, of course, ice cream!!

• You had a classic vanilla cone whilst he had an ice lolly. It was so refreshing, especially after that very unfair sandcastle war.

• Though, you caught him staring, calculating something before he shyly smiled.

"What?" You asked with a huff of laughter. Jake shook his head, lips wrapped around the lolly. But you knew he was scheming inside that gorgeous brain of his.

"You can just say it, you know?" You said again, making him turn.

His brown eyes glinted, sparking before he held the lolly away from his mouth, and advanced to you with deliberate slowness and a sly grin. Butterflies tickled your belly, but you pursed your lips and didn't move.

"Don't move, okay?" He demanded softly. You nodded, and he took the chance to lean in, so close. When he was a breath away, he connected his lips to yours, and you couldn't help but deepen it.

Jake was swift, but thorough, and you felt the tip of his tongue swipe the corner of your lips. You flinched. And he just giggled.

"You had ice cream on your face."

"You couldn't be normal about it?"

"No."

You rolled your eyes but saw him cringe all of a sudden, as if he tasted something else. When he turned to you, it was in horror.

"I think I ate sand."

PARK SUNGHOON✧₊⁺

☾. Comfortable, mutual, sunbathing, sunglasses.

• When the beach idea was proposed, it was when you saw a tiktok.

• Whilst in bed, you turned to Sunghoon, who was on his own phone, and asked him: "beach plan this week?"

• And, without sparing a glance, he pursed his lips. "Yeah. Sure."

• And that was it. Tbh, that is how it always is. Sunghoon is very blunt about it, but his cutesy couple side comes out later.

• You know? When he's wrapped around you like a cocoon in bed? Legs and arms thrown over you like you're the sausage pillow. 🤨

• And he had that pouty lips, hair falling over his face.

• You don't mind it.

• Anyway. Planning was quite swift and neat. Bet, he already had a beach bag with designated spaces for sunscreen, sunglasses, towels and a separate one for drinks and food.

• He insists on packing your bag as well. Separate bags, neat, organised.

• You packed the snacks, though, and even then, he came and packed it all in for you.

"Hoonie, I can do it myself," you protested as he gently steered you to the stool, and took over. When you said that, he put a finger to your lips, and you raised both eyebrows in stunned shock.

"Baby, just let me do this, yeah?"

Ugh, he used that soft tone that always hypnotised you, and made you listen to him. You immediately let him, and well, who could resist a soft-spoken Sunghoon?

Absolutely no one.

• And off you went.

• The car wasn't completely silent. He listened, you talked. You talked, he listened.

• Music played and he sang his lungs out like an eighty year old man recalling the first moment he heard said song.

• You recorded him. Don't tell him. It's blackmail material, duh.

• And, at the beach, he let you find the spot and agreed, followed like the lovesick fool he was.

• He helped you set the blanket, umbrellas, and stood behind you as you crouched in your swimsuit.

• As much as he admired every inch of your skin, he didn't want other people to stare.

• How rude of those people 😞��

• So, he was your shield as you fixed the umbrellas and towels. What a man!!

• The water was something you and him left last. For now, you and him laid down, you on his bicep and he purposely flexed them.

• You smiled, and closed your eyes, feeling nothing but the murmured conversations, the sun beaming on yours and his skin, and his hand idly playing with your hair.

"Hoonie?".

He hummed in gentle acknowledgement. You snuggled closer to his side, making him smile silently.

"I'm glad we came," you said over the crashes of the waves on the shores. Sunghoon felt himself melt into the ground.

"I'm glad you're here," he mumbled. You peeked an eye open at the warm words, blaming the tingles from the sun.

"Me, too."

"Nah, I said it first. I win," he interjected, totally breaking the sentimental moment. You scoffed, shoving him in the side softly.

"It's not a competition." You huffed with slight laughter.

"Don't care. I made the rules. And my rules say that I love you more than you could ever love me." He closed his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

You can't believe he oh so casually admitted the love he held for you. Or that he thinks that you didn't have the same amount of colossal love for him. Honestly, if you could measure your own devotion in the form of the ocean, it would dry up instantly.

"Love you more." You tried again, seeing his smirk.

"Nope. Denied."

• After that, the water was so perfect.

• He tentatively got in after you waded through quite a good distance, until the water swallowed your torso.

• Worried as always, Sunghoon grew protective and literally came to your unneeded rescue.

• He literally hooked hands around your waist, and you giggled.

• Until you looked at him. His skin sparkling with droplets, adorning him as if the ocean had personally given him jewellery to accentuate his features.

• Blushing under your gaze, Sunghoon simply looked away, slightly timid.

"What?" He asked lowly. You saw the shyness bubbling inside his eyes.

"Don't you think you're just... amazing? How could I not stare at you, Hoon?" You exclaimed, hands around his nape as if you were explaining a crisis to him.

"Baby, it's not that deep," he reassured with an amused smirk. You shook your head as if he didn't understand. Which, he didn't. He didn't understand how you could just eat him up, and then preserve him inside your lungs and flowing cells.

"You're so handsome, it's annoying."

"You don't find it annoying when we're in bed though—"

"Sunghoon!" You covered his mouth with your hand, eyes wide whilst he chuckled.

• After the water, he dried you off before he did so himself. He dried your hair, arms, legs.

• Well, he couldn't resist the affectionate pat to your thigh.

• How could you blame him?

• You found him so handsome, but he found you absolutely... delectable.

• Vampire fr. 💪🏼👹

• Did you know how much he had to resist from biting your thighs? Nope.

• So, when you yelped and hugged your knees with another stunned silence, he just shrugged, as if so normal

• And he gave no explanation to that.

• And you just accepted it.

"What was that for? I'm not a boxing pillow thing—"

He began laughing at your description. "You're cute, baby."

Soft-spoken Sunghoon came out, and you just let him, letting him consume your heart whole.

KIM SUNOO✧₊⁺

☾. Sunsets, gossip, playful swims, strolls through the beach.

• Now, Sunoo is honestly the type to want to plan this day for weeks or smth. He checks the forecast every day.

• You think it's helpful, and you know his intuition is correct

• He is the sunshine himself.

• So, when he suggested the date, it was about 2 weeks away AND you would be staying at a nearby Ar BnB.

• And Sunoo wanted some food, he wanted sweets, he wants MEMORIES. And he will make them.

• No doubt 💥‼️‼️

• He picks a specific beach, definitely from a tiktok, definitely a place where pictures could be taken, and somewhere chill af.

• Heck, even the Air BnB was so minimalistic but perfect for just the two of you to hide away and cherish each other with nothing by the waves crashing in the distance.

• So, the beach in question was nearly empty. When you asked him how tf he found it, he just smiled and steered you to the beach.

• He helped you set up the picnic, but if your hair got messy, he would pull hair clips outta nowhere.

"Where did you get these?" You asked as he slipped the clips in to hold your hair away from attacking your own face. He just giggled with that beaming smile of his.

"Magic. I just have it as inventory," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. You shook your head with a small smile.

Except, you saw the black pearly clip he used and raised an eyebrow.

"Those are mine, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

"And you told me you i must have misplaced them?"

"... Yeah..?"

• Now, the whole day started with water.

• The logic?

• Tire yourselves out and then be rewarded with food, with something sweet — ice creams, sundaes, whatever.

• The water... was a moment 😃

• He got one of those ridiculous ass toy guns and kept hitting you with the water.

• So you, in return, got under the water and pulled him down.

• Cue dolphin ahh scream 🐬

• No, but after drying up, Sunoo would cherish you wholeheartedly.

• Drying your hair, heck, offering privacy by holding the towel and hinting compliments whilst you quickly dried off and changed.

• Obviously, you would swat his arm, but he said sorry.

• But he didn't mean it LMAO💀

• And pictures? Don't get him started. He thought it would be funny to put a time-lapse of you and him eating.

• It was nothing aesthetic unless you want to count the amount of times you and him stopped talking just to eat.😭

• Sandcastles and faces in the sand were a MUST. Smiley, angry, love heart faces were printed into the sand, showing the stamp of your love for each other.

• The real night began when people left at sunset.

• But you and him?

• That was the star moment.

• Up on the cliffs, where the barricades were, you and Sunoo stayed with the blanket, talking.

• Talking about literally everything!

• How you love the beach, or the ice cream flavour, or even that you were grateful to even be out.

• He would not interrupt even once.

"And then — hey, are you listening?" You asked, suddenly aware he was just staring at you as he hugged his knees. Sunoo, smitten as heck, simply nodded with that soft smile, the type of smile where it made you rethink why you hadn't met him earlier.

"Why aren't you... commenting? Did I break you?" You inquired again with a grin, staring into his amber eyes.

"You could never break me, my love," he said with a shake of the head. "I mean, sometimes you do when you try and spoon me in bed—"

"Shh! We don't need to talk about that!" You said, laughing as you cupped his mouth, utterly close to him. He connected his hands with your waist and leaned into your chest, listening to the rhythmic heartbeats.

"I don't mind it," he commented from under your hand, even placing a kiss to your palm. A tingle hit your chest, and you bit your lips from smiling too hard.

• Along with gossip sessions, he loved taking photos of the moon!

• The moon was well in the sky and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

• And well, when he was in the pose to take a picture, the breeze swept over him as if knew he was a Prince.

• You were enamoured. Whilst distracted, you got your own phone, snapping a picture of him.

• In your photo, the sun was taking a photo of the moon.

YANG JUNGWON✧₊⁺

☾.Teasing, sandcastles, writing messages in the sand, night walks...

• Jungwon was... excited.

• Ever since you planned it, he kept singing it randomly

• You know, adding his own lyrics to random tunes, voice cracks, and passionate.

• You didn't question it.

• Heck, planning to find the space to stay for a day or so was hard.

• He kept scrolling, adding to wishlist, scrolling, adding to wishlist. You were there for 2 hours and ended up with 50 rooms to choose from😮‍💨.

"Jungwon, shut up for, like, a minute—"

"Nah, look at this! There's a pool! We could—"

"Then, what's the point of the beach!?" You exclaimed with a huff of laughter. Jungwon gave a sour look, hooking a hand over your stomach and pulling you close with the laptop in hand.

"It's the vibe," he replied, kissing your neck. You giggled and shook your head.

"Look, how about we get a room with a room, TV, kitchen and a view?"

Silence.

And then: "yeah, sounds good."

• On the day, he was helping you out, buckling you in, putting the beach bags in the back.

• Off you went.

• As soon as you got into the room, you and him dashed with all the essentials.

• You and him applied sunscreen to each other, and he lowkey was smirking as you applied some to his neck.

• You just gave a 🤨⁉️.

• And he shrugged, applying sunscreen to the side of your legs since you were knelt between his legs. "Nothing..."

• Okay. Well.

• The scheming came to light when you were in the water, getting the doughnut floaty and all ready.

• Unbeknownst to you, one second you were standing on your two feet, and the next?

• You felt his hand coil around his ankle and pull you in. And you shrieked.

• When you bobbed your head above the water, you splashed him so hard, he had a mouthful of saltwater.

• And he did not mind. Lmao😭

• He even thanked you.

• Freak.

• It turned into a splashing competition, and then a hugging competition (?) where after he blinded you with water, he hugged you, spun you around in the water and dove both of you in again.

• Now, both of you were full of saltwater 🩷

• Once those shenanigans were done, you and him made sandcastles.

• Having only one bucket and spade, he didn't have the heart to compete, so together, you made one.

• And you got water, seashells, and a stick.

• You stuck on the decor, and he would obviously video your utter concentration, finding it adorably ridiculous.

• Says him.

• Because right after, he was drawing a love heart around said sandcastles, making sure the point was symmetrical.

• Talk about adorably ridiculous and being a SIMP😹.

"The love heart looks good, Won," you said, coming up behind him hunched over the ground.

He didn't reply, but kept focusing on the area under the heart, fingers meticulously carving in some words. Curious, you looked over his shoulder and melted.

"JW+Y/n's abode".

When he saw your pouty lips and endeared gaze, he just held you close.

"We'll get a home one day. As big as this with no neighbours," he said into your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow and met his eyes over yourself.

"No neighbours—?"

"So you want people hearing us—?"

You cupped his mouth and glared, but he started laughing as if he didn't hit you with embarrassment.

• Oh, the real moment begins as soon as the moon is high, and the people were gone.

• At around 9 am, he is handing you an ice cream, and debriefing with you.

• Oh gosh, he could hear you yap for hours. And he would be so attentive that he noticed the ice cream about to melt.

• So, he would guide it to your lips. You thanked him before graciously continuing your yap session.

• Oh, both of you yap so hard. He's having his ice cream, vanilla, classic.

• And he'll say random stuff like: "if vanilla was a vegetable or fruit, I feel like it would be a fruit that grows from trees."

• And you would pat his head like "okay <3".

• Those beach walks are the damn best.

The beach was dark, the sea crashing as always. And Jungwon came back after throwing away the ice creams. And he hooked his hands around your waist, pulling you in.

"You wanna taste my ice cream?"

"How? You just threw it away?" You asked, laughing again from his randomness. Jungwon shrugged, pulling you flush against him.

"Like this," he said lowly before kissing you with a perfect fit, deep and moving. You clutched his arms, and he groaned.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dazed, blonde hair fluffy in the breeze. You shakily breathed.

"Jungwon?"

"Yeah, lovey?"

"I didn't taste the ice cream," you admitted, looking at those warm eyes of his. He scoffed and pecked your nose.

"You wanna go again?"

"Oh yeah, for sure."

NISHIMURA RIKI✧₊⁺

☾. Floaties, frisbee games, salty kisses, boyfie pics.

• Lowkey, he wanted to go to the beach, but now he's the one that doesn't even get up.

• You stormed into the room, wearing your pretty summer outfit over your swimsuit, and now — this bear of a boy is snoring away🥀.

• So, there is only one thing to do.

• Jump him.

• He literally jolted awake and yelled so loud in that deep voice of his.

• But you didn't get off. You stayed on until he was repeatedly hitting the mattress.

• You win.

• To avoid getting jumped in the first place, he got up with those duck ahh lips pouting at you🐥.

• But he saw your impatient glare and he got up

• He can't be bothering his Queen, you know?

• So, since you packed the last bits, he carried it into the car and all.

• And the car ride?

• It was blasting music. And you had to admit, your goof of a boyfriend had impeccable taste 😫.

• The drivers definitely looked at the car and judged. Or admired.

• Anyway, getting to the beach, he was RACING you. As if it was a competition.

• It totally wasn't.

• Well, until you found the spot and got there faster since you carried less things.

• He just stuck a tongue out at you.

"Cheat," he yelled to you as you laughed at the chosen spot.

"You were the one that didn't want me carrying them," you reminded him, to which he didn't have an argument back.

"Touché."

Next time, he would remind himself to make you carry at least one bag. He totally will remember.

No, he won't. He's too smitten.

• Okay, so, setting up, he found the frisbee and without even saying anything, both you and him got into position.

• It was fun for the most part. You tried to catch him out by throwing the object down low. He would do a dramatic football dive whilst you just laughed at his face.

• But.

• With his tall ass height, whenever he threw it, the frisbee would fly way overhead.

• It wouldn't be a problem.

• Well, it wasn't until it hit a man into the back of the head.

• You ducked so fast out of view that it left a flustered Riki to tend to himself. And apologise to said man.

• No more frisbee games😮‍💨.

• Water it is!

• Riki, being impulsive, literally bought those thick floatie thing where you could sit on it.

• So, he wanted to 'graciously' put you on it first.

• But that mischievous glint didn't go unnoticed.

• Unfortunately, it was too late. He flipped over the floatie and, in turn, you as well. You yelped as the water engulfed you.

• Once you rubbed your eyes and hair away, you literally began to chase him.

• Curse him and his long legs and giggles. Despite having salt in your eyes and mouth, you couldn't help but smile.

• His laughter brought a flutter right down to your chest. And his blonde hair would be sticking out all over the place like a messy toddler.

• But, seeing you all far away, he decided he would go to you.

• And then, he would hug you from behind, swinging you about and man, you felt so warm with his arms around you.

• Safe. Secure.

"What if I cannon ball both of us right now, like, in a second?" He said as he tightened his grip, breath hitting your right ear. You scoffed.

"I would drown you," you replied with feigned hostility. Riki whistled.

"Wait, that's kinda hot—"

"Riki, what the fu—"

Too late. He took that personally and swung both of you into the water, but all that time you tried to resurface, he made sure to keep those safe hands of his around your waist.

Once your head bobbed above the cool water, he knew you were about to scold and whine at him, so he did what any whipped boyfriend would do.

He shut you up with a kiss. Which worked because he physically felt your muscles loosen, your breath hitch, and your hands to lock around his nape.

It was salty but everything about it was sweet. Ironically.

When he pulled away, you smiled as if you had rebooted your whole system. He adored that look.

"Riki?"

"Yeah?"

"Our floatie is floating away."

"WHAT?!"

• He swam all the way to get it back. This time, he made you sit on it, promising not to flip you over.

• Promise kept. For once.

• After that, ice cream and food galore. He shared his food with you even though you had your own ice cream.

• It was a thing — sharing with each other.

• He would give you his and then stare at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time again.

• You just gave a look of bewilderment before giving back his ice cream. And he would literally eat from the same place you did.

• What a freak. And flirt.

• But how can you resist. You literally had to get your phone to capture scrumptious photos of him.

• Honey skin, damp hair pushed back, those sharp eyes of his glittering as he stared out at the horizon.

• Perfect.

• He was your boyfriend? Wtf 😫 how??

• It's funny you thought that because he was thinking the same thing.

• "My girlfriend?? No way??🫠⁉️"

"Riki?" You said as you and him laid on the blanket, head on his bicep. He hummed in response, his deep fluttering through your chest again.

"It was fun today," you said softly. And he literally had to resist the urge to squeeze your cute ass head. Instead, he just rolled so he could wrap his other hand around your waist too.

"I'm glad. I had fun, too. I always do with you."

"Aw, is Mr. Nishimura getting soft right now?" You teased, kissing his chin. He scrunched his face up, as if it pained him to hear that.

"No way. Just uh..." He mumbled again, making you giggled.

"Just what?"

"Just shut up." He threatened gently. You shrugged.

"Or what? What you gonna do—"

And he kissed you again to shut you up. Totally worked.

Your brain rebooted and you forgot what you were about to say. Riki smirked and pulled back as you just huffed.

"You're annoying, I hate you."

"I love you, too."

"WAIT, YOU JUST SAID—"

"Don't ruin the moment!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ִֶָ࣪☾.[NOTES]: thank you sm for reading this far <3 pls let me know if you guys found it funny and accurate!! Thanks for reading!

REBLOGS+ LIKES, COMMENTS are appreciated

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hello-gloomy · 5 months ago

Note

Can I request Stanley snyder with a breath taking beauty s/o ?????? Please 😭😭😭 ( add dr.xeno and senku if u are comfortable )

Ofc ofc, I do hope you enjoy it!

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Stanley Snyder with Breathtaking! S/O

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Warnings: OOC, sex jokes, corny compliments, mildly uncomfortable attention at the beginning. SCIENCE. SPOLIERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE MANGA!!

A/N: I thought doing a short drabble would suit this request. I hope you enjoy it. ;^

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After Xeno and Stanley reached a truce with Senku's group, things started to mellow for all parties involved. You built a larger building for everyone to live in, made plans for the moon project, and planned a celebration for all the progress made.

You had a plenitude of people surrounding you from both colonies, and you had to keep your face from screwing up from having the same compliments over and over again.

Stanley noticed your discomfort and excused himself from the two mad scientists he associated with, along with the ex-magician( with a few witty marks from the latter)

The crowd started to back off as he moved closer to you. When he got to where you were, he cleared his throat while crossing his arms, giving a cold stare to the last few men who were bothering you.

"Mind If I sit here?"

You give your savior a sweet smile and tell him yes; he politely puts out his cigarette and sits beside you, leaving a space between them. You fidget briefly before mustering up some courage and moving closer to him. He glances around before swiping his arm and pulling you by the hip to flush you against his side. You giggle at his antics and whisper a thank you just for him.

"Anything for you, my love."

You feel a few glares from other guys and a bit of grumbling about Stanley taking your attention for himself; the two of you whisper to yourselves in your little world, Stanley showering you with compliments, much more original than the previous ones.

"You sure you weren't a model in the old world?"

"Keep looking at me with those eyes, and you might turn me back to stone."

You heard a groan and some movement beside you: Xeno, Gen, and Senku have joined your originally exclusive party. Gen passes the two drinks with a smirk.

"I feel bad for Ukyo and what he just had to hear." -Senku

"Feel bad, I had to read his lips." -Gen

"On account of his previous remarks, I'm sure something turned to stone alright with how close the two of you are." -Gen

Xeno choked on his drink while Senku and his partner-in-crime cackled at the nosy quips. You pat the doctor on his back while Stan claps the two young adults on the back of their heads.

"Maybe I should make Ukyo some noise-canceling headphones." -Xeno

"I hate kids." -Stan

"Watch it boomer" -Senku

You give Senku a look and ask who he's calling old, and he goes on to tell you the age categories and where you and the other gentleman lie at.

"And in reality, you are closer to our age category." -Senku

"Oh yeah, Sen, keep talking. I'm gonna stroke it to this later." -Gen

"I think I'm needed at the lab." -Xeno

You are starting to miss when everyone was slightly at each other's throats. Another friend comes over and catches the younger two, giving the three of you a leisurely getaway. Hand in hand with your lover, you notice Xeno's gaze on you. And ask him what's on his mind.

"Did you know the brain activates areas linked to pleasure and reward when taking in beautiful things?" -Xeno

"I don't need science to tell me how breathtaking she is when I can see her daily to remind myself." -Stanley ♡

#x reader #dr. stone x reader #dr stone senku #dr xeno #dr. stone #dr stone x reader #dr stone season 4 #dr stone stanley #stanley snyder x reader #dcst #asagiri gen #dr stone gen

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umikawa · 4 months ago

Text

a/n: shout out to the song I was listening to, you a real one.

senku ishigami x gn!reader | 1.3k wc, not proofread (thoroughly) | warnings: sen thinks dumbass and idiot are romantic nicknames, lot of intimate touching (not sexual) a sex joke (I find them funny) a bit ooc unfortunately. I love dialogue.

♫ a starry night in apollo bay / rini

“Hey, genius.”

Senku doesn’t turn at the sound of your voice, he’d already deduced it was you the second he heard your footsteps sink into the sand. “Hey, dumbass.”

A light chuckle follows his sentimental nickname for you (he swears by it) and he finds his body relaxing just from hearing it. He watches you from the corner of his eyes, how you hesitate slightly to sit next to him, measuring the distance between the both of you by your hand– he’s sure you’re worrying if it’s too close.

“Hurry up and sit.” He says, looking unbothered per usual. When you don’t, he casts a lazy look in your direction, you know the exasperation is faux to an extent, but the way his brow twitches slightly shows you genuine concern. “You’re worried for no reason whatsoever, idiot.”

“Sorry.” The soft apology makes him scoff, and then in an unexpected move (from Senku, at least) he tugs you down by the hand, huffing when you fall into his side. “You could be gentle, you know?”

He shrugs the shoulder you lay on, a sliver of a frown on his lips when you scoot away. “You could’ve just sat down. But you didn't, so I had to take the initiative.”

“Yeah and practically pulled me into your lap.” You scoff, flicking sand at his leg.

“Bet you’d like that.” He grins, mischief written all over his face. Your hand comes up to his face, shoving his head backward gently, but the act alone is enough to irritate him. “Idiot.” He scoffs, brushing the sand off his face.

“You love me.” The statement rolled off your tongue as a joke, embedded with playfulness because Senku was not the sentimental type. “I’m your best asset.”

“You’re a damn leech is what you are.” You frown— Senku knows you’re faking it.

“You don’t want me to say the insinuation that popped into my head, do you.” The warning left your mouth with a laugh, bumping your shoulder into his.

Senku chortles, returning your action twice as hard. “Oh, I already know it. You know why?” You raise a brow, urging him to continue. “Because I know you.”

Silence followed his words, it hung heavy over your heads, but it wasn’t tense. His eyes are on you, but yours are set on the night sky twinkling above you. Senku takes you in bit by bit, charting every new mark on your face and neck.

A new scar by your eye, that came after you’d exhausted yourself and fell face first into his baskets.

A few new moles and freckles, likely from the sun, he’d have to figure out sunscreen next. He doubts you’d want to put mud on your face willingly.

The feeling of his cold fingers on your chin finally tears your eyes away from the starry night, your lips parting as you look at him. “Senku?”

He shakes his head, laying his palm flat against your cheek. “Just examining.” You nod slowly, eyes darting over his face– he’s not lying but there’s another reason, you’re sure of it. “You’ve got a few blemishes here and there.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re pretty too.” Your words come out with a scoff, and Senku laughs in response. His palm shifts on your cheek, but he doesn’t pull away, instead his thumb begins to brush under your eye, pulling lightly at the skin. “Senku.”

“Just checking. Remember you had exceptionally bad dry eyes?” You hum. “Though I’m sure it was the result of you staring at your phone all night.”

“You wanted someone to talk to at two in the morning, I was there.”

Senku feels his chest tighten. He dismisses it. “Sure, use me as your excuse.”

His fingers travel to your temples, squeezing lightly until you groan and drop your head. “Huh, that’s new.”

“Don’t go acting like you know how my body reacts to things.” You say, slapping his leg. “I get endless headaches from your long, boring speeches about Neanderthals and the Stone Age.”

He pouts, he looks stupid— cute, even. “Because it applies to this world again, we got sent back in time and now I have to make up for it.”

“We.”

“Sure. We have to make up for it.” You shove him again, and Senku shoves you back. He lets his hands get back to work, tilting and turning your head, the way a kid would with their dolls— you slap him when he tries to turn your head too far to the side.

Then he starts to go down. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake as they trail down your shoulders to your elbows, you’re watching his hands and Senku’s watching you. Noting every reaction, every twitch of your brows, and every shaky breath that leaves your lips.

He holds your wrist, pausing his movements to count your pulse— it’s fast. “Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles at your honesty, nodding his head. “If I did this to you– would you react the same?”

Senku pauses, actually thinking about it. Then he shrugs, “I don’t know.” He retracts his hand, you mourn the loss of contact. He picks your hand up and rests it against his cheek. It already feels warm against your palm. “Go ahead, examine.”

You hesitate at first, crimson eyes locked on you like a hawk, it felt like he was trying to melt you with his gaze. “Your hands are sweating.”

“Shut it.” Senku nods with a laugh, freezing when your hand starts to move down to his neck. Your fingers brush against the stone still stuck in his hair, lightly tugging at the strands around it. “This doesn’t bother you?”

“Nah, it’s an inconvenience sure but, I’m ten billion percent certain it’ll benefit me in the long run.” He gets an uninterested hum in response before your hands slide back up to his jaw.

He looks calm, but his heartbeat is unsteady, he can feel his palm starting to clam up, and his skin feels abnormally hot where your hands are.

Is this normal?

Every brush of your fingers against his skin left a fire, he tries not to catch your eye when his lips part, you’re too focused on them anyway. A shuddering breath comes out when your fingers stop at the base of his neck, you inch closer, and Senku feels his heart stop.

This wasn’t normal.

“Aren’t you ticklish?” His eyes widened slightly at your words, hands coming up to grab your wrists and pull your hands away from him quickly. “How cute. Are you really that ticklish?”

“Don’t even try it, dumbass.” He warns, holding your hands together and away from him. The heat of the moment dissipated slowly, but the rampant beating in Senku’s chest remained.

The crashing waves in front of you take your attention away from him, but Senku keeps his eyes on you– admiring or calculating, he doesn’t know.

Your eyes close when a breeze blows by, he takes it as a chance to scoot closer to you without notice, but you beat him to it. Your head falls to his shoulder, and though his heartbeat skyrockets once again, he lets the puff of faux annoyance out.

He lowers his head, red-dusted cheeks and ears being hidden by the moonlight– he’s grateful for it. If someone saw him in this state, he’d have to come up with some scientific explanation for it to save his ass, but luckily (as much as he could say) he didn’t have to worry about that.

Because it was just you and him.

For now, at least. He’s sure a certain oaf will wake soon.

A content sigh leaves your mouth, tickling his neck. Your hand finds purchase on his arm, and it takes everything within him to not grab your hand and lace his fingers with yours. Because that’s not like him.

“We should go soon,” he whispers, hand hesitantly creeping up your back. “The tide will wash us out if we don’t.”

You hum, the vibrations swarming through Senku’s chest. “Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

Senku doesn’t protest.

Because he wants to be with you for as long as he can.

#drst x reader #dcst x reader #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami x reader #ishigami senku x reader #senku x reader #senku ishigami imagines #senkuu ishigami x reader #ishigami senkuu x reader #dr stone imagines

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solxamber · 7 months ago

Text

Take Two || Vil Schoenheit

You and Vil, once lovers, are forced to reunite through work, stirring up old heartbreak and undeniable tension. Slowly, you realize love never truly left, and some stories deserve a second chance.

i promise it's a happy ending

The night air feels sharp against your skin, the chill sinking into your bones as you stand face to face with Vil in the shadow of Pomefiore’s grand staircase. His golden hair catches the faint light, glimmering like spun silk, his expression frozen in a mask of disbelief. But his eyes—his eyes betray him, shining with an ache so raw that it almost makes you collapse under the weight of your decision.

"You’re leaving me," he says, his voice flat, brittle, like glass about to shatter. "After everything."

You try to smile, but it’s more of a grimace. "You deserve someone who can keep up with you, Vil. Someone who doesn’t have to fight just to be noticed, someone who—"

"Stop," he snaps, the word cutting through the night like a knife. "You think this is about keeping up? About deserving?" His voice rises, trembling with a rare fury. "You’re not a burden to me. You never were."

Tears spill over before you can stop them, warm against the chill of the night. "But I’m holding you back. You’re going to be an award-winning actor, a global icon. You’re meant for so much more, Vil. And I—I can’t be the reason you look back someday and wonder what you missed out on."

Vil’s hands curl into fists at his sides, his perfectly manicured nails digging into his palms. "You sound like a coward," he says bitterly. "Someone who doesn’t understand what it means to love. I gave you my heart, and you’re throwing it away like it’s... disposable."

You step closer, your voice trembling. "Vil, I love you. I love you so much it hurts. That’s why I’m doing this. Because I know that if I stay, I’ll be the anchor that holds you back."

He stares at you, stunned into silence, before his face crumples. It’s a sight you never thought you’d see—Vil Schoenheit, so composed, so regal, letting tears spill unchecked. "I regret it," he whispers, his voice breaking. "I regret giving my heart to someone who doesn’t want it."

Your breath hitches. You reach out, wiping his tears away with trembling fingers. "I want it. I’ll always want it."

"Then why—"

"Because I love you enough to let you go," you say, your voice cracking. You lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, tasting the salt of both your tears. It’s desperate and bittersweet, a farewell that neither of you wants but both know is inevitable.

When you pull back, his eyes are filled with an agony that mirrors your own. "I’ll pray to the stars that they align for us in another life," you whisper, stepping away even as every fiber of your being screams to stay.

Vil doesn’t follow. He stands rooted in place, watching as you disappear into the night, his tears sparkling under the starlight like diamonds.

And as you walk away, your heart breaking with every step, you can’t help but wonder if love is truly worth it when it hurts this much.

The spotlight gleams against the polished floors of the gala, chandeliers casting constellations on every surface. You stand at the edge of the room, champagne flute in hand, wearing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Laughter ripples around you, yet your heart pounds louder than any of the polite chatter.

Across the room, he stands, bathed in a soft golden light as if the universe itself couldn’t bear to dim him. Vil Schoenheit, global phenomenon, beloved by millions. And you, just a rising singer whose every success still feels like a shadow of his own.

You force yourself to look away before your gaze lingers too long. It's been years since that night—the night you kissed him goodbye, the night you walked away so he could become everything you knew he was destined to be.

And he did. Oh, he did.

Every magazine cover, every award stage, every grand performance is proof of that. You’re happy for him. Truly. You send flowers every time he wins something new, handpicking each bouquet and handwriting every note. Congratulations, Vil. You deserve this and more. No reply ever comes, but you never stop.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That this is enough.

He spots you before you spot him. He always does.

You stand by the windows, moonlight catching on the delicate fabric of your clothes. Your laughter mingles faintly with the music, but Vil knows you well enough to hear the cracks in it. To anyone else, you’re poised, radiant—a star in your own right. But to him, you’re the person who kissed him goodbye and took his heart with you.

He straightens his posture, as if that will shield him from the wave of memories crashing over him.

The flowers you send have become a cruel routine. He receives them like clockwork—each arrangement more thoughtful than the last, each card bearing your familiar handwriting. He reads every word, his thumb brushing over the ink, before placing the cards in a drawer he’s too afraid to open.

And yet, he saves them all.

Seeing you now is both agony and relief. He knows his worth; the world adores him, reveres him. But when he sees you, every ounce of that worth feels hollow. He feels young again, vulnerable—a teenager fumbling with emotions too large for his heart to hold.

The inevitable happens: your eyes meet.

You catch Vil’s gaze across the room, and your heart stutters. You force yourself to smile, a small, polite thing, and raise your glass in acknowledgment. He nods back, his face unreadable, and you swear your knees might give out.

You’re supposed to be over this. You’re supposed to be happy.

But every time you see him, the years fall away. It’s as if you’re back at Pomefiore, back on that staircase, wiping away his tears and whispering that you loved him before breaking both your hearts.

You excuse yourself to the balcony, the cool night air biting at your skin. You lean on the railing, taking deep breaths.

"Running away again?"

His voice is smooth, poised, and far too close.

You whirl around, and there he is, the moonlight outlining him like the leading man in some grand romantic drama. He’s holding his own champagne flute, his free hand tucked neatly in his pocket. He looks flawless, as always, but his eyes betray him.

"I wasn’t running," you say, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

"Of course not," he replies, his tone as sharp as ever, but there’s something softer beneath it. He steps closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you. "And yet, here you are. Avoiding me again."

Your throat tightens. "I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me."

He laughs, a quiet, bitter sound. "Do you really think I have nothing to say to you after all this time?"

You blink, taken aback. "I—I didn’t know. You never—"

"Responded?" He raises an eyebrow, his expression a careful mask. "What was I supposed to say, darling? That every card, every flower, every fleeting mention of you feels like a dagger?"

The word darling slips out so naturally that you almost miss it. Almost.

"Vil, I—"

He cuts you off, his voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. "Do you have any idea what it’s like to be adored by millions and still feel empty because the one person I want won’t even look at me properly?"

You gape at him, words caught in your throat.

"You left me," he says, and his voice breaks just enough for you to hear it. "You left, and I—" He exhales sharply, composing himself. "I told myself I hated you for it. But the truth is, I never stopped—"

You take a step forward, closing the distance. "Stop."

His eyes widen slightly, his perfect mask slipping.

"I never stopped either," you admit, your voice trembling. "I thought I was doing the right thing. For you, for us. But all I did was break us both."

And then you unceremoniously run, like you always do.

The sound of your phone vibrating aggressively on your nightstand jolts you awake. It’s your manager, and he’s barking something about an emergency meeting, now.

Still half-asleep, you throw on the first pair of pants you can find, grab your bag, and sprint like you’re being chased by a swarm of angry bees. By the time you reach your company’s little meeting room, you’re wheezing like an old accordion.

You stumble in, gasping for air. “I’m—here—what’s the—emergency?”

And there he is.

Vil Schoenheit, sitting in your dingy little meeting room, radiating elegance and beauty like he’s some Greek god forced to endure mortal company. His perfect golden hair gleams under the flickering fluorescent lights, and his outfit probably costs more than your annual rent.

For a second, you just stand there, staring at him in disbelief. "What?" you manage to choke out.

“Ah, you’ve arrived!” your manager says, completely ignoring your obvious confusion. He’s fawning over Vil like the man just descended from heaven itself. “Aren’t we so fortunate to have Vil Schoenheit here with us today? What a privilege!”

Vil sits there with the most unimpressed expression you’ve ever seen, his gaze lazily drifting to yours. He raises an eyebrow, and the look on his face very clearly says: The universe hates me as much as it hates you.

“Why…” You gesture wildly at him like that explains anything. “Why is he here?”

Your manager claps his hands together as if this is all the most wonderful news in the world. “You’ve been given the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to compose and perform the opening theme for Vil’s new drama!”

“…What?”

“And Vil has graciously come all this way to provide you with inspiration!”

Vil crosses his legs, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “I didn’t exactly volunteer,” he says flatly. “I was informed this meeting was non-negotiable.”

“Graciously forced,” you mutter under your breath, earning a sharp glance from him.

Your manager continues, oblivious. “This is huge for us! For you! For the company! A chance to collaborate with Vil Schoenheit!” He’s practically vibrating with excitement.

You? You’re mentally screaming. The room’s ancient air conditioning groans louder than your brain cells, and the smell of stale coffee is threatening to choke you. This is where Vil Schoenheit is supposed to get his inspiration?

“Great,” you say weakly, flopping into a chair. “Love that for us.”

Your manager claps you on the back, way too hard. “I’ll leave you two to get started! Can’t wait to hear what you come up with!” He scurries out of the room like his life depends on it.

The door clicks shut. Silence.

You turn to Vil, who’s looking at you like he’s silently calculating how fast he can escape. “So,” you say, attempting to sound professional. “I guess we’re doing this.”

Vil sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It seems we have no choice.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“And risk tarnishing my reputation? Hardly.”

You narrow your eyes. “Wow. Thanks for that vote of confidence in my music.”

He waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t misunderstand. I’ve heard your work. It’s… fine.”

“Fine?” You bristle. “Just fine?”

“I’m sure you’ll rise to the occasion,” he says smoothly, completely ignoring your indignation. “Or at least, I hope you will.”

This is going to be a long day.

The next hour is spent with Vil giving you vague, lofty descriptions of “atmosphere” and “emotion” while you scribble down ideas that may or may not be entirely out of spite.

“Think regal, but with an edge,” Vil says, leaning back in his chair like a king addressing his court. “Something that captures the drama’s tone—elegance, intrigue, power.”

“Right,” you say, scrawling Fancy Soap Commercial Vibes in your notebook.

“And it must resonate with the audience on an emotional level,” he adds, completely serious.

You nod, underlining Fancy Soap Commercial for good measure.

At one point, Vil gets up to demonstrate a movement he wants the music to evoke, his motions fluid and precise like the world’s most intimidating interpretive dancer. You’re not sure if you’re inspired or just terrified.

Finally, you throw your pen down. “I get it! Regal, edgy, emotional. Big feels. Got it.”

Vil gives you a skeptical look. “Are you certain? Because your notes don’t inspire much confidence.”

You glance down at your notebook, where you’ve doodled a tiny stick figure labeled Vil’s Vibes surrounded by stars. “…Yeah, totally got this.”

He doesn’t look convinced. “If this ends up sounding like a children’s lullaby, I’m holding you personally accountable.”

You groan, rubbing your temples. “Great. No pressure.”

And yet, as much as you want to throttle him for his impossible standards, there’s a part of you that doesn’t hate this. Because, well… it’s Vil. And whether you want to admit it or not, working with him is kind of incredible.

Even if he’s the most dramatic muse you’ve ever had.

The day starts with your manager shoving a revised directive into your hands: go watch Vil's shoot. Apparently, you needed more "inspiration" to compose a song fit for his upcoming drama.

Great. Because spending more time around Vil Schoenheit, global icon and your ex, is exactly what you needed to totally not lose your mind.

Still, you don’t show up empty-handed. On the way to the set, you grab an aggressively caffeinated iced espresso for yourself—because surviving the day calls for it—and, without much thought, you pick up a caramel macchiato with oat milk.

The barista hands it over, and you’re hit by a pang of nostalgia. This was Vil’s favorite back when you were teenagers, back when you’d watch the sunset with him after his rehearsals. You shake the thought away. It’s just coffee.

When you arrive, Vil’s seated on a folding chair, reading over his script like it’s sacred text. Even in the chaos of the bustling set, he looks poised, his hair perfect despite the heat of the lights.

You approach, clearing your throat. “Hey.”

He glances up. “You’re late.”

“I’m five minutes late.” You hold out the cup. “Peace offering?”

Vil takes the coffee without comment, but the moment he sips it, his movements falter. His eyes widen, ever so slightly, and you catch the flicker of emotion on his face before he masks it.

You don’t linger. “I’m going to talk to the producers.”

As you walk away, Vil stares at the cup, at the faint smiley face you’ve drawn on the lid. His chest tightens. You remembered.

He forces the thought down, folding it neatly into the drawer of unspoken feelings he’s cultivated since the day you left him. Setting the cup aside, he rises, perfectly composed. He has a scene to shoot, and Vil Schoenheit doesn’t falter.

Watching Vil perform is like watching magic. Every movement, every look, every line—he’s utterly captivating.

You sit near the monitors, jotting down notes as inspiration flows. There’s something about him—his intensity, his elegance—that fills your mind with melodies. You’re so engrossed that you barely notice the shoot wrapping up until Vil walks over, a towel slung casually around his neck.

“Are you leaving already?” he asks, his voice smooth and calm, like you hadn’t just been mentally composing an ode to his perfection.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll call an Uber.” You stand, shoving your notebook into your bag.

He frowns, clearly unimpressed. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll take you home.”

“Vil, it’s fine—”

“I insist,” he says sharply, already walking towards his car.

You follow, feeling a strange mixture of gratitude and dread.

The car ride is quiet, filled only with the soft hum of the engine and the city lights flashing by. Vil’s driver keeps his gaze firmly on the road, giving the two of you privacy, but the atmosphere feels oddly intimate.

As you sit there, your mind drifts back to your first date. You were a nervous wreck back then, fumbling with your words, tripping over your feet. Vil, of course, had been effortlessly composed, amused by your flustered state but kind enough to guide you through it.

A small smile tugs at your lips at the memory.

“What’s so amusing?” Vil asks, his voice breaking the silence.

You glance at him, startled. He’s looking at you, his gaze sharp but curious.

“Nothing,” you say quickly, shaking your head.

He doesn’t press, but his eyes linger on you longer than usual.

When the car pulls up to your apartment, you thank Vil and step out, but as you turn to leave, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Vil?” you ask, surprised.

He blinks, as if realizing what he’s done, and lets go immediately. “Nothing,” he says, straightening. “Just… be on time tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. “I will.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might say something more. But he doesn’t. He nods curtly, turning back to the car.

Inside your apartment, you close the door behind you and slide down to the floor, the tears spilling out before you can stop them.

He’s as beautiful as the day you let him go, and it hurts.

You’re so happy for him, so proud of everything he’s achieved. But God, you miss him.

Meanwhile, Vil sits in the back of the car, staring out the window as the city blurs past. His fingers brush against the empty coffee cup in his bag, the one with the faint smiley face you drew.

His heart aches, but he doesn’t let it show. Not even to himself.

The drama is an undeniable success, catapulting Vil’s already dazzling career into further stratospheric heights. But unexpectedly, the opening theme—your song—becomes the anthem of the year, a chart-topping sensation that has every talk show, magazine, and fan forum buzzing about your collaboration.

You, however, aren’t basking in the glow of success as expected. If anything, you’re moping.

Deuce notices first. “You okay? You look… weird.”

“I don’t look weird.”

“You do,” Grim adds, gnawing on his tuna sandwich. “You look like you ate bad tuna but don’t want to admit it.”

“Thank you for the visual,” you deadpan.

You sigh. Everyone else is ecstatic. Your phone is a whirlwind of congratulatory messages, your manager has been pacing like an over-caffeinated rodent, and your inbox is overflowing with offers. Yet all you can think about is the fact that the drama is over—and so are your obligations to Vil.

No more early mornings brainstorming lyrics with him. No more quiet moments sipping coffee during breaks. No more stolen glances when you thought he wasn’t looking (he always was).

It’s ridiculous, really. You’re thriving. Your career is skyrocketing. You should be ecstatic.

Instead, you feel like you’re bracing for an emotional wrecking ball.

Vil, on the other hand, is furious. Not at the drama’s success, of course—he’s a consummate professional, and his performance has been widely praised. No, Vil is furious because he can’t escape you.

He tried. Oh, how he tried. He kept himself busy with interviews, photoshoots, and premieres, meticulously avoiding the thought of you. But then the making-of video was released.

There you were, sitting beside him, coffee cup in hand, throwing out ideas with that little spark in your eyes. The fans lapped it up, the media ran with it, and now every outlet wanted the two of you together for joint interviews.

Vil could not imagine a worse fate.

The first interview is scheduled for 10 a.m., and you arrive early, clutching your notes like a lifeline.

Vil is already there, of course. He sits with perfect posture, his gaze steely as he scrolls through his phone. When he notices you, his lips press into a thin line.

“Good morning,” you venture hesitantly.

“Is it?” he replies coolly, without looking up.

Ouch.

The producer, blissfully unaware of the tension, claps his hands together as he enters the room. “Ah, our power duo! Ready to make magic?”

You exchange a strained glance with Vil. He raises a single brow, clearly unimpressed.

The interview begins, and for the most part, it’s harmless—questions about the creative process, the drama’s success, and future projects.

Then the interviewer smirks, leaning forward. “You two have such wonderful chemistry. Were you always this in sync, or did it take time to build that dynamic?”

Vil’s jaw tightens. You blink, feeling the weight of his stare.

“Well,” you start, “we worked really hard to make the song fit the tone of the drama. It’s all about teamwork.”

“Hmm, teamwork,” Vil echoes, his tone dangerously smooth. “Yes, that’s one way to put it.”

The interviewer beams, oblivious to the storm brewing. “Fans are dying to know—any plans for another collaboration?”

“Who knows?” Vil says, his smile razor-sharp. “Perhaps fate will decide.”

By the time the interview ends, you’re emotionally drained. Vil, of course, looks as pristine as ever.

“Thanks for being civil,” you mutter as you both head to the parking lot.

“Civil?” Vil’s laugh is devoid of humor. “Darling, if that’s your standard for civility, I fear you’ve been spending too much time with amateurs.”

You glare at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “I didn’t ask for this either, you know. You think it’s easy for me to—”

You stop yourself, biting your tongue. You’re not about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still affects you.

Vil arches a brow, waiting. When you say nothing, he smirks. “Thought so.”

Later that night, as you scroll through social media, you stumble upon a clip from the interview. It’s nothing scandalous—just a moment where you and Vil exchange a glance and laugh at a question. But the comments are merciless.

> “These two have HISTORY, I can feel it through the screen!” >“Vil looked like he wanted to stab and kiss them at the same time, and honestly, relatable.” >“Petition for them to star in a romantic drama together??”

You groan, throwing your phone onto the couch.

Somewhere across town, Vil is scrolling through the same comments, his expression unreadable. He closes the app with a sigh, but not before saving the clip to his private gallery.

He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe it’s masochism. Maybe it’s hope. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because a part of him isn’t ready to let you go.

The day of the photoshoot arrives, and you’re running on a dangerous combination of nerves, caffeine, and denial. Standing next to Vil for hours under flashing cameras, forced to feign effortless chemistry, feels like a ticking time bomb.

Vil, of course, looks unbothered—poised and perfect as ever, his every movement calculated for maximum elegance. Meanwhile, you’re sweating like a guilty criminal.

“Relax,” Vil murmurs as he adjusts his jacket between shots. “Your unease is practically a stench.”

“Thanks for the pep talk,” you grumble.

The shoot goes on without a hitch, until—of course—it doesn’t.

It happens in the middle of a particularly dramatic pose. Vil, perched precariously on a raised platform in heels, steps down just as an intern accidentally knocks over a loose prop. It lands with a sharp crack, and Vil, who’s clearly caught off guard, stumbles and falls.

A collective gasp ripples through the room.

“Are you okay?” someone yelps, rushing toward him.

“Don’t touch me,” Vil snaps, voice sharp as glass. He sits up with a wince, cradling his ankle.

You’ve been keeping your distance the entire shoot, trying to maintain your professional boundary. But the second you see Vil hurt, that self-imposed wall shatters.

“Vil!” you shout, practically tripping over cables as you rush to his side.

He looks up, his expression guarded. For a moment, you hesitate, half-expecting him to snap at you too. But instead, he simply nods, a subtle permission that shocks the entire production team into silence.

With a surprising amount of strength born from sheer adrenaline, you lift Vil into your arms, bridal style.

Someone from production stammers, “We can call for—”

“I’ve got him,” you cut them off, your tone firmer than you expected.

Vil doesn’t protest. He just loops an arm around your neck, tilting his head slightly as though he’s resigned to being carried like royalty. You can feel the weight of everyone’s stares as you carry him out of the studio, whispers trailing behind you like gossip at a high school cafeteria.

The walk to the medic feels like an eternity.

“You’re heavier than you look,” you mutter, trying to distract yourself from the way his perfume is overwhelming your senses.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” Vil replies, his voice still sharp but lacking its usual venom.

When you finally reach the medic, you set him down gently, your arms trembling from the effort.

“You can leave,” Vil says as the medic begins their examination.

You nod, turning to go—but your feet refuse to move. Instead, you end up awkwardly sitting on a nearby chair, your hands clasped tightly in your lap.

You tell yourself it’s just to make sure he’s okay. That you’ll leave once the medic gives the all-clear.

Vil doesn’t say anything about your lingering presence. He keeps his eyes closed, his usual pristine mask slipping for just a moment as he exhales slowly.

When the medic finishes and declares him fit to leave, you finally stand. “Well, I should—”

“Thank you,” Vil says softly, cutting you off.

You freeze. For a moment, all you can do is nod before hurrying out of the room, your heart pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

Back in your dressing room, you sink into a chair and bury your face in your hands.

“What is wrong with me?” you groan.

Meanwhile, back in the medic’s office, Vil sits in contemplative silence, the ghost of your touch lingering like a memory he can’t shake.

You’re holding Vil’s phone like it’s made of glass, glaring at Rook’s number on your own screen.

“You sure I can’t just leave it at the studio?” you ask for the third time.

“Non, non, mon ami!” Rook’s dramatic voice practically vibrates through your speaker. “Vil has a most pressing engagement this evening, and the phone is vital to his work. You’re already such a dear for delivering it!”

“Couldn’t you do it?”

“Alas, I have an engagement myself. A critical affair, truly,” Rook sighs, his tone more playful than apologetic. “I’ve sent you his address. Bon courage!”

Before you can protest, the line goes dead, leaving you staring at the apartment address like it’s an execution order.

You’re in the car, grumbling to yourself as you mentally rehearse what you’ll say.

Here’s your phone. Bye.

Short. Simple. No emotional mines to step on.

But then you accidentally touch the screen, and his phone lights up.

And there it is. The lock screen.

It’s a selfie of the two of you from years ago, taken on some lazy afternoon. You’re both laughing, your faces smushed together awkwardly. You remember the moment vividly—Vil had just cracked a rare joke, one so unexpected it had you crying with laughter.

And now here it is, preserved like some cruel reminder of what you had.

Your stomach twists.

“Oh no,” you mutter.

The driver glances at you in the rearview mirror, concerned.

You’re ugly sniffling by the time you pull yourself together, the poor driver tactfully pretending not to notice. “Sorry,” you choke out. “Allergies.”

He nods slowly, clearly not buying it.

When you finally arrive at Vil’s penthouse—a sleek, modern building that screams successful celebrity—you take a deep breath and ring the doorbell.

Vil answers the door himself, wearing a loose, elegant cardigan and lounge pants that still manage to look couture. His eyes widen slightly when he sees you.

“You left this,” you blurt, shoving the phone into his hands.

He takes it, his gaze lingering on your face. “Were you crying?”

“No,” you lie, unable to meet his eyes.

“Come in,” he says, stepping aside.

“I’m fine—”

“That wasn’t a suggestion,” he says, his tone soft but firm.

Despite your better judgment, you step inside.

The interior hits you like a brick wall of memories.

The layout is different, but the details are achingly familiar. The same muted color scheme you’d picked out together. The same arrangement of throw pillows on the couch—even the same colors.

Your eyes dart to the bookshelf, spotting a framed photo of the two of you tucked discreetly among the décor.

It’s too much.

“You did this on purpose,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Vil’s gaze softens. “I didn’t want to forget."

Before you can respond, he goes to the kitchen to get something to drink, leaving you to drown in memories.

You’re sitting on Vil’s pristine couch, sipping tea that you can’t even taste. He’s seated across from you, the distance between you both palpable, like a chasm you’re too afraid to cross.

But Vil doesn’t wait this time. He doesn’t dance around the words.

“Why?” he asks, his voice sharp, cutting through the silence.

“Why what?” you whisper, even though you know exactly what he means.

“Why did you leave?” he snaps, the composure he always clings to starting to crack. “Why did you take my heart—my trust—and then shatter it into a million pieces? Do you have any idea what you did to me?”

You flinch, tears already pooling in your eyes. “I—I thought—”

“No,” Vil interrupts, standing abruptly. His hands tremble as he gestures, his voice rising. “You didn��t think. If you had, you would’ve seen how much I loved you, how much I—” He cuts himself off, his chest heaving.

You’re crying now, hands gripping your knees so tightly they hurt. “I didn’t want to hold you back, Vil. You had so much ahead of you, so much to achieve—”

“And you thought you were the thing holding me back?” he yells, his voice breaking. “You thought I would’ve been better off without you?!”

You nod miserably, choking on a sob. “I wanted you to thrive! I didn’t want to be the thing that kept you from reaching your dreams!”

Vil laughs bitterly, the sound hollow and laced with pain. “And you did just that. You leaving—you leaving—was the only thing that’s held me back. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you. You haunt my dreams, my every waking moment. And I hate it. I hate you for it. So tell me—”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his face inches from yours as his voice cracks. “Tell me you hate me. Tell me you don’t love me anymore, so I can move on. Please, I’m begging you.”

You’re sobbing now, shaking your head frantically. “I can’t. I—I don’t hate you. I never stopped loving you. I left because I thought I was doing the right thing, but I see now that I was so, so stupid—”

“Yes, you were,” Vil cuts in, tears streaming down his face. “So stupid. And so cruel.”

His sobs are raw, unrestrained, and they tear at your heart. You cradle his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away his tears even as more fall. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave again. I’ll stay. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Vil closes his eyes, leaning into your touch like it’s the only thing tethering him to the earth. When he opens them again, his voice is barely audible. “Don’t promise me that unless you mean it.”

“I mean it,” you say, your voice steady despite your tears. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay.”

Vil exhales shakily, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buries his face in your shoulder. “Thank you,” he whispers, and for the first time in years, the weight between you begins to lift.

You’ve barely put the mop down when Vil calls from the living room.

“Hurry up with the tea,” he says without even looking up from his script. “And don’t forget to fold the laundry after this. Properly, please—last time you folded one of my scarves into an actual triangle. Who does that?”

You mutter a half-hearted "Yes, your majesty," and shuffle toward the kitchen. You’re halfway there when Rook bursts in through the front door, a bouquet in hand and stars practically bursting from his eyes.

“Ah, l’amour! C’est magnifique!” Rook declares, startling you so badly you almost drop the tea tray.

Vil raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the dramatics. “Rook, must you barge in unannounced?”

“Mais oui!” Rook exclaims, twirling dramatically. “How could I not visit when my dear friends have rekindled their eternal flame of passion? Look at you two! You, bossing them around, and them—obediently obeying every word like a loyal partner. True love has won!”

You roll your eyes but can’t fight the grin spreading across your face. Vil, however, looks less charmed. “They’re making up for years of terrible life decisions, Rook,” he says, deadpan.

“Oh, of course,” Rook says, his grin never faltering. “But love is in the air, and I, your humble admirer, could not be happier. Do not deny it—my heart soars!”

You and Vil exchange a look, both exasperated and oddly amused.

“Fine,” Vil says with a sigh. “If it makes you happy, Rook, then yes. True love has won. Now, will you let me enjoy my tea in peace?”

Rook gasps as though he’s been given the greatest gift of all time and promptly sits down, refusing to leave.

When you and Vil finally announce your relationship, the internet goes into an immediate frenzy.

The official post is simple: a photo of the two of you holding hands, captioned, "It’s official."

But the comments?

>"Wow, groundbreaking news. I couldn’t tell from the way Vil stared at them like they invented oxygen." >"You’re telling me they weren’t already dating? I thought this was public knowledge." >"The tension between these two could’ve powered the whole continent. About time." >"Wasn’t their last interview basically a rom-com in disguise?" >"Not even surprised. I’m more shocked it took this long."

Vil reads through the comments with a scoff. “Captain Obvious seems to be having their moment in the spotlight.”

You laugh, peeking at his phone. “I mean, they’re not wrong. We weren’t exactly subtle.”

Vil hums, a small smile tugging at his lips. “At least they approve. For now."

It’s late by the time you both get home, the quiet hum of the city fading behind you as Vil unlocks the door. The soft glow of the apartment feels comforting, like the kind of peace you didn’t know you needed until now.

You both kick off your shoes, and Vil immediately starts fussing with his scarf. You grab it before he can hang it up, putting it neatly on the rack.

As you settle on the couch, Vil joins you, resting his head lightly on your shoulder. For a moment, neither of you speaks, just enjoying the stillness.

“Do you ever wonder why we made it so complicated?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence.

Vil chuckles softly. “Often. But then again…” He tilts his head to look up at you, his violet eyes warm and full of something you can only describe as home. “Perhaps we wouldn’t have appreciated it as much if it had been easy.”

You hum in agreement, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You’re probably right. But still…”

Vil smirks, pulling you closer. “No more unnecessary complications. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you whisper, letting yourself finally, fully relax.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil schoenheit #vil #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort

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nianeyemystic · 6 months ago

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💦💖 Sexual & Physical Compatibility Synastry 🤤

Soooo this post was inspired by one of my close friends. She's in a long distance relationship & was explaining how different sex feels with her new man. Now let me preface this and say

*not everyone will experience this synastry the same, that's okay these are just MY OWN obseervations. Ive been studying this for a few years now and so far - it tracks lol*

❤️‍🔥Mars-Venus Aspects❤️‍🔥

✨ Conjunction, Trine, or Sextile: These aspects show natural attraction and sexual chemistry. Mars represents passion, while Venus represents love and desire. You can find yourself becoming so intensely attracted to your partner. It's something we astrologers always look for, if you have these, you most certainly will know it by how your body reacts to that person being around you.

✨ Square or Opposition: These can indicate tension that manifests as fiery, passionate attraction but may need effort to balance. So yes, you will want to tear their clothes off every time you interact, but it can also be like unnecessary fights & explosive fights. You will need a sexual outlet.

❇️Mars-Mars Aspects❇️

✨ If Mars in both charts forms a harmonious aspect (e.g., trine or sextile), you may share similar sexual energy levels and desires. Which can lead to wanting the sex at the same time or being on the same page about what makes you feel good in the bedroom.

😍 Mars-Pluto Aspects😍

✨ This is a powerful placement for deep, transformative, and intense sexual attraction. I looooooveeeee seeing this one in couples charts. If you've felt like you can't explain why your body tingles around them, why you can't stop thinking about them? Why you're always wanting to be near them. You possibly have Mars - Pluto. The connection can feel magnetic and almost fated.

💋 Venus-Pluto Aspects💋

✨These aspects create an obsessive, passionate attraction. I say obsessive bc Pluto is involved. It can be healthy though, depending on how you express your obsessions. Like....don't stalk them, but be open about how they make you crave the. There’s often a deep emotional and physical bond that feels irresistible.

🧡Moon-Mars Aspects🧡

✨ The Moon represents emotions and Mars represents physical drive, so these aspects indicate a connection that blends emotional intimacy with sexual passion. I already did an entire post describing this connection in detail, so make sure you visit that one here:

💙Venus-Mars in Each Other's Houses💙

✨ When one partner's Venus or Mars falls into the other's 5th (romance), 7th (partnership), or 8th (sexual intimacy) houses, it can signify strong attraction and sexual compatibility.

💕 Sun-Mars Aspects💕

✨ Harmonious aspects (e.g., trine or sextile) between the Sun and Mars often indicate a strong physical connection. Challenging aspects can create a dynamic but exciting sexual tension. I like Sun & Mars bc sometimes it can feel invigorating & exciting when relationships seem to get dull. You'll always find the other person just enough of a challenge to keep your enticed.

💋Moon-Pluto Aspects💋

✨ This aspect creates emotional intensity and a deep, transformative connection that often translates into a passionate physical bond. I have sen this play out several times and it can be a beautiful bond that only you two will understand. So much so that you may even be willing to try new sexual things w this person, taboo sexual exploration. As long as the emotional connection is being satisfied, you will do anything to please your partner sexually.

❤️‍🔥Eros and Psyche (433 & 16)❤️‍🔥

✨Eros (sexual desire) and Psyche (soulful love) aspects in synastry can reveal where deep sexual and emotional compatibility exists.

💛 North Node Conjunct Venus or Mars💛

✨This placement suggests a karmic or destined connection where the partners help each other grow, often through romantic or sexual experiences. The friend I was inspired to make this post bc of this has this with her man. His NN is conjunct her Venus. she's expressed many times how his love feels like it is healing her, forcing her to grow as a divine feminine. I love this one, it also leads to sexual healing.

💕Bonus: 8th House Synastry💕

When one person’s planets fall into the other’s 8th house, it often triggers themes of intimacy, transformation, and sexual magnetism.

These placements and aspects don't guarantee compatibility, but they can highlight areas of potential connection and attraction. Always look at the full synastry chart for a holistic view!

Do you have any of these? Let me know below!

@nianeyemystic ✨❥

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #synastry aspects #love astrology #astrology aspects #lovers astrology #astro tumblr #astro community #tumblr astrology #synastry reading #sun venus synastry #leo venus #moon mars synastry #pluto synastry #jupiter synastry #sun synastry #synastry moon #sun moon synastry

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dustpages · 6 months ago

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PornMum

I opened the front door of my flat with a loud bang. I was pissed, the shooting was called off last minute and I had travelled for two hours to reach the location.

" Hi, Mum." my little boy greeted me from his bedroom.

It was the middle of the summer and the only thing he had been doing so far was reading and playing video games, I was aware he didn't like to socialize with his peers. I was his only parent, his father left us when he was just born.

" Honey I'll be to you in a second.” I yelled across the house walking to the kitchen to get myself something to drink. I was thirsty and sweaty, even though I had dyed my hair blonde and I was wearing just a top and skirt the heat was unbearable.

I took some cold water from the fridge and drank it at once.

I put the glass back in its place and headed to my son’s room, knocking softly before entering. He looked up from the screen and smiled. "How have you been?" I asked him sitting beside him.

He shrugged. "Alright, just read some manga."

"You need to go out more." I opined, trying not to sound too harsh but concerned about him being stuck at home all day long without seeing anyone else.

He swiftly dodged my gaze and sighed deeply. " Whatever. Why are you home so early today?" he questioned.

I sat on his bed. " My last schedule was cancelled last minute." I explained without giving him too much information.

He was just 12 years old and being told I was one of the most successful, requested and appreciated JAV actresses in Japan wasn't something I would share with him. He knew me as Mina, the kind and loving mother who always cooked delicious dinner for him. Not the one that was an adult film actress.

"Oh, what happened then?" he asked innocently.

I tried to explain my situation without making any reference to the industry I worked for. " The director told me they wanted to postpone it. So I came home."

He nodded. " I see."

I glanced at him, looking him in the eyes. " Hey, do you want to eat something? I'm hungry, let’s prepare something together." I suggested with a smile. He agreed.

We went to the kitchen hand in hand, he was still short and thin for his age. But his blue eyes made up for it. We both loved cooking and baking, especially him since he enjoyed eating sweets, I did my best to make sure he had a balanced diet.

While we were cooking some of the tomato sauce for the spaghetti landed on my clothes, staining both top and skirt.

" Dammit." he cussed. He has stirred the sauce with too much energy causing the little mess on my outfit.

" Do not worry, honey." I reassured him and got off my skirt and top right there in the kitchen. His eyes widened in surprise.

"What are you doing, mum?!" he said, sounding embarrassed.

I giggled and caressed his cheek. " Don’t be silly, this is nothing. You’ve seen my butt many times before." I teased him, bending over to clean the stains from the floor.

My ass was on full display for him and I could feel him staring at my cheeks, so plump and round, my pussy lips covered with just my small panties. It was nothing new for him to see me almost completely nude since I rarely wore anything around the house but his reaction was strange, he looked flushed and nervous.

“ Mum... Are you going to take your underwear off as well?" he stuttered.

I turned around to look at him. " What?! No! Of course not." I laughed nervously. " Unless you asked for it."

He became red as the tomato sauce. " I don't know what you are talking about." he ran out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I sighed and turned off the stove. Slowly I made my way to him, who was sat the sofa fidgeting with his hands on in lap.

" What's wrong baby?" I asked him sitting next to him.

He didn't say anything for a good minute, busy in deep thought. " I do have a problem in my underwear," he affirmed not sparing a glance to me.

" How come?" I inquired.

" They're wet." he whispered so low I barely heard it. " And it doesn't stop leaking." he continued.

His words sent shivers down my spine, I couldn't believe it.

" Let me see." I gently pulled him to stand and unbuttoned his trousers. His briefs were soaked through with precum.

" This is normal honey. All boys your age leak precum now and then. Especially when they see a hot girl." I told him trying to reassure him. He blushed again.

"It never occurred before." he panicked.

"Well, maybe you liked what you saw earlier." I mused.

" Maybe you liked your mum’s body." I added teasingly.

" That’s ok honey, it’s normal to think your mother is sexy." I encouraged him.

He seemed to relax a bit. " But it’s not appropriate." he complained.

I stood up and cupped his face. " Nothing is wrong, honey. You’re my son, but also a boy." I comforted him, feeling somehow attracted to him.

" Now, if you excuse me I'm going to change. You can stay here or join me." I winked at him. His eyes fixed on mine for a few seconds before nodding in agreement.

As soon as we were inside my bedroom I closed the door and locked it. Then I stripped from my bra and panties. My son looked at me wide-eyed, taking in my naked form.

" Come here." I said walking to him. I felt him tremble as our bodies touched. My hands caressed his back, slowly descending to squeeze his bum.

"Do you like it?" I asked him. He nodded shyly.

I kissed his neck softly, moving my hands to grab his cock through his trousers. He gasped as I stroked him over his pants. " Take it out for me." I commanded him.

He obeyed me pulling out his dick. It was bigger than expected for a boy of his age, yet far from the ones I had to deal with at work. I gave him a few strokes while kissing his neck and biting his earlobes. He moaned in pleasure.

" Mum, my member doesn't get soft." he affirmed worriedly in between moans.

" It’s ok honey. I'll make it soft." I assured him. I knelt in front of him, licking the tip of his penis. His legs wobbled.

" Mum..." he moaned my name. I took him fully in my mouth sucking and bobbing my head, tasting him for the first time.

I worked shipped his dick for less than 2 minutes and he shuddered in front of me. "I- I'm feeling a warm sensation spreading all over my body." he stated worried. " What is happening?"

I chucked releasing his dick from my mount and enveloping it into my hand. " You are cumming." I explained stroking faster.

" Am I supposed to feel something like this!?" he shouted losing control over himself.

I kept stroking until he exploded all over my breasts, covering them with his load. He fell on the bed exhausted, breathing heavily.

I wiped my chest clean using some tissues and lay next to him. " See, it’s ok baby. There is nothing to be ashamed of." I told him smiling. He nodded still catching his breath.

" Mum can you explain to me what just happened?" he questioned me shyly.

" You see, honey, you reached orgasm. Your member released semen and it felt good." I explained to him.

His eyes widen in shock. " Does it happen to women as well?"

I laughed at his ingenuity. " It does, you made me so horny that I want to have sex right now." I confessed.

He blushed but said nothing. Instead, he stared at my breasts. I could tell he wanted me to.

" You want to fuck me, don't you?" I asked bluntly, biting my lower lip.

He looked at me puzzled. " What does it even mean?"

I chuckled. " Let me show you instead."

I climbed on top of him and started grinding against his thighs. He hardened instantly.

I knew I should have gone easy on him. It was his first time and me being used to dealing with men more experienced and older than him was a risk for him, if I did go to ride him the same way I usually did with other cocks he would break in half. But I couldn’t help it, I craved him so much.

I was horny to stop and he looked so cute under me, so innocent. I needed to fuck him, I needed him to fill me and stretch my insides.

I rubbed my slit against his hardness, feeling the head of his dick poking me.

" What are you doing?" he whimpered.

" I'm riding your dick baby." I moaned. I aligned myself perfectly with his member and impaled myself on it. He let out a sharp intake of air as he felt himself inside of me.

The feeling was satisfying, he wasn't big enough to give me any issue stretching my pussy. I started to move my hips up and down, feeling his cock hitting my cervix each time I lowered myself onto him. I was moaning loudly and panting hard.

He was enjoying it as well, he held my waist firmly with his hand. I leaned forward and kissed him, feeling his tongue dancing with mine. Our teeth clicked together as I bounced on him harder and harder.

As I was expecting his member throbbed inside of me after a few minutes. I had to play smart not to make him feel bad about his performance, even though I was enjoying it thoroughly.

" Baby, I can't take it anymore." I lied. " Please cum."

His eyes lit up. " Really?"

I nodded and kept bouncing on him, not letting him stop thrusting into me. " Yes, cum inside of me." I begged.

He gasped at my words and buried his face into my neck as he unloaded himself deep into my womb. His arms wrapped tightly around my back, holding me close to him.

When he finished pumping his seed into me we collapsed on the mattress, panting and sweating profusely. " Did I do a good job?" he asked me shyly. I kissed his forehead. " Perfect."

I couldn't afford to tell him I wanted to keep going all night long." You can sleep here, tonight." I informed him.

He hugged me tightly. " Thank you mum."

I wrapped my arms around him as well, feeling how his heart was still beating fast and strong.

The next few days flew like always, I had been called for a few shootings and my baby kept staying in his room days in and days out.

It was a tiring Friday night, I plopped on the sofa wearing a white top and a matching pair of shorts. I had worked all the afternoon filming different scenes.

" Baby, I'm back." I called my son.

He came into the living room carrying his laptop, he was dead serious. " We need to talk." his blue eyes made me shiver more than the air conditioner.

" Wha.." I tried to speak, but he cut me off. " Hear me out first."

It was unusual for him to be this cold with me. " I was doing some of my homework today and one of the requests was to look on Google for some information about our relatives and guess what happened as soon as I entered your name?" he was slightly losing his temperament.

" I don't understand." I said confused.

" All the results were about you and your career as AV Idol!!" he exclaimed. " All those fucking films you've done! And how people call you 'JAV Queen' because you are the most requested actress!"

I stared at him shocked. " Well.."

" Well, what?" he interrupted me again. " You told me while we were fucking that you couldn't take anymore, and yet your last video that hit the charts was you begging a man with an 11 inches dick to keep fucking you and filling your tight pussy!"

My jaw dropped. " Um... I didn't want to lie to you." I stammered. I wanted to hide under the rug.

He shook his head. " Of course, you didn't!" he yelled. His little body was shaking in anger.

" Baby let me explain." I talked in a lower tone.

" Alright." he affirmed. " Explain to me the reason why you lied to me during our first time."

I sighed, hoping for the best. " Because I wanted to make you feel good about yourself."

He glared at me. " If you cared about me you would have told me the truth." he huffed.

" Baby!" I pleaded. " You have seen in my videos how wild I am, I didn't want to break you or to scare you. And I wanted you to have a special time with your mother, no matter the circumstances."

He crossed his arms and pouted. " Is it true you love other men more than me?"

I shook my head. " Absolutely not! I love you more than anything in the world, but I enjoy sex with them."

" I'm well aware of that now, no need to remark it." he spat.

I sighed and walked in front of him. " What do you want me to do to make it up to you?"

I raised his chin defiantly. " Tell me."

He avoided my gaze. " Have you saved enough money?" he questioned.

" More than you and I can spend in a lifetime." I replied honestly. " Why?"

He stared at me dead in the eyes. " I want you to retire, to leave that disgusting industry behind you and be just my mother, the one who is just special to me. Just my mother."

I looked at him, feeling conflicted. " Baby, money aside, how are we gonna deal with the lack of affection I crave for?" I asked him softly.

His eyes flamed. " I crave for you. I'm young and you could mould me as you please to fulfil all you need." his voice was firm.

I smirked widely. " You do, huh?". " Yes." he nodded.

" Show me then." I challenged him.

And he did, he proved to be more eager and greedy than any other man I had ever met. He ate me out like he was starving, making me scream and squirt in his mouth.

" Bed." I moaned, my legs were trembling from my climax. He took my hand and walked to my bedroom.

" Baby, we are not done yet. You know, right.?" I asked him kneeling in the middle of the mattress.

He nodded and crawled towards me. I reached down and grabbed his dick into my hand.

" I'm gonna make you ready." I stroked his length slowly and licked his head, taking him into my mouth and sucking hungrily. " You taste so sweet, baby." I praised him, feeling his precum leaking on my tongue.

He moaned in delight and grabbed my head with his hands, pushing me down on his cock. I gagged a bit as he fucked my mouth.

After a few minutes, I pushed him away from me and lay down. " Fuck me now, baby." I urged him.

He positioned himself in between my thighs, lining up his member to my pussy and pressing it into me. He filled me, his thickness stretched my inner walls and I screamed in pain and pleasure.

" Harder, baby." I egged him on. His thrusts were slow at the beginning but became rougher as he gained confidence.

He slammed into me furiously and I let out screams of joy. He grabbed my ankles and placed them on his shoulders, pounding me relentlessly.

I felt him pulsing inside of me and squeezed my muscles around him.

" Cum, baby." I demanded.

He let out a strangled cry and released himself into my hole. I felt his hot seed coating my insides and it was glorious, so much so it triggered my orgasm and I climaxed around him. He collapsed on top of me, spent.

" That was great baby." I purred satisfied, stroking his head.

" Can we do it again?" he asked curiously.

" We will. Soon." I promised him. " You’re gonna be the king of this house from now on."

He laughed. " Funny. Are you gonna retire for real?" he questioned.

" I will, but there is one last shot I need to do the day after tomorrow that I cannot cancel so out of the blue." I replied. " But I want you to be on set with me, to see how everything goes." I proposed.

" Ok." he agreed. I cuddled with him and drifted away, thinking of all the dirty things I wanted to do with him.

The day of the shoot arrived and I was nervous but excited at the same time, not only because it would be my last scene but also because my son would be present to watch it.

We drove to the location which was a luxurious mansion, I had shot here a few times already and I knew exactly where I would find my colleagues and the crew.

We reached the dressing room and my son followed me in, watching as I undressed and put on the costume chosen for the occasion. It was a black dress and a pair of high heels.

" It's not bad." he commented as I spun around to check how my dress fit me from behind.

I looked at him amused. " Just not bad?"

He looked on the floor. " You are extremely sexy." he mumbled.

I laughed. " You're such a good boy." I praised him. I leaned down and pecked his forehead, noticing as he blushed.

I cupped his chin. " Remember, this is all for fun, and you need to remember that."

He nodded solemnly. " I promise to behave."

" Good boy." I kissed him again.

The producer of the film came into the room to fetch me. " Hey Mina, we are all ready for you outside. This will be your last scene, do your best.

I grinned. " Of course." I waved at my son and left the dressing room.

I stepped on set and found my partner for the shoot, the famous 11-inch dick named Jax. He was a tall guy with broad shoulders, dark brown hair and hazel eyes. His cock was so thick that the guys on set used to compare it to a cucumber.

" Hello, Mina." he greeted me with a smile.

I returned it. " Nice to meet you again."

" So, we will be playing as lovers cheating on their spouses and we end up having passionate sex." the producer explained.

" Sounds perfect." I approved, already knowing the script.

" Action!" the director shouted.

The scene began with us dancing and drinking alcohol at the party hosted in the house. It went smoothly until we reached the part where we were meant to kiss passionately and start fooling around.

Everything changed when he slipped his hand into my dress and grabbed my breast. My eyes darted to my son standing behind the camera, he looked surprised by the sudden touch but not upset. He had an odd expression on his face, a mixture of confusion and lust.

The scene proceeds with us groping each other. Jax pinched my nipples and slid his hand up my thigh and to my mound, caressing it through the fabric of my panties. I gasped in pleasure.

I glanced at my son again, he had a hard time hiding his boner and I felt sorry for him. " Sorry honey." I mouthed to him, hoping he could read my lips.

He didn't seem bothered and gestured for me to continue.

We moved to the sofa and the director ordered us to remove our clothes. I obliged stripping out of my dress, leaving me bare apart from my bra and panties. Jax followed my example.

" Let's try some foreplay, Jax can you eat her out." the director said, addressing my partner.

Jax didn't need to be told twice, he pushed me onto the sofa and settled himself in between my legs.

His tongue was very skilled and had me writhing in pleasure within seconds, he licked my labia and my clit, sucking on my nub greedily. I moaned loudly as I felt myself nearing my release.

My hand pushed him deeper into my folds, urging him to go on. He lapped at me eagerly, sending sparks through my body.

I looked at my son again and found him touching himself through his trousers, his face was red in embarrassment. I felt sorry for putting him in that position, but at the same time, it was arousing to see him so affected by the sight of me getting eaten out.

Jax stopped suddenly and my gaze snapped back on him as he kneeled in front of me, holding his throbbing member. " She tastes wonderful." he complimented.

I spread my legs further inviting him to enter me. He plunged into me, stretching me like a rag doll. I arched my back at the sudden invasion and moaned.

" Mina, you have a tight pussy." he grunted. " I'm not even halfway in."

He began thrusting, slowly at first, allowing me to adjust to his size. Once he was fully seated in my channel he picked up his pace, pounding me fiercely.

I moaned at his ministration, my hands clawed at the cushion of the sofa.

" Oh god!" I shouted in pleasure. " Yes! Fuck me like that." I cried out as he hit my spot, rubbing it repeatedly.

My body trembled as he kept ramming me, I was at his complete mercy. My orgasm came overbearingly, causing me to convulse wildly.

He fucked me through my climax, not stopping in the slightest.

He was proving himself to be one of the best actors in the business. " Change position." the director ordered.

We ended up in a reverse cowgirl. My legs were still trembling from the aftershock of my climax but I managed to sit on him, impaling myself on his cock.

I started to bounce on him, rubbing myself against his pelvis. His hands grabbed my tits from behind and kneaded them roughly.

I was getting close again he rubbed my clit with his big fingers, making me clench around his shaft. " Yes!" I screamed, reaching another orgasm.

I collapsed on him, feeling exhausted from the intensity of my climaxes. He lifted me from his member, causing me to whine from the loss of him.

He pushed me face down on the sofa and entered me doggy style.

His thrusts were savage and violent, he pounded me relentlessly. I loved it, the feeling of being owned by him. My body shook as he slammed into me, my tits jiggling.

His hands gripped my waist, keeping me still and preventing me from escaping his onslaught.

" Fuck yes! Give it all to me." I screamed as he drilled into me.

"You adore my fat dick, don't you slut?" he groaned in my ear. I nodded eagerly.

Suddenly he slowed his thrusts and his member started to twitch inside of me. " Ahhh! Cum inside of me!" I shouted, squeezing him tightly.

He moaned and spurted his load into me, coating my insides with his seed. His movements were becoming slower and slower until he stopped entirely. He pulled out of me leaving me empty.

" Cut!" the director announced.

I felt dizzy from the number of climaxes I had reached and tired from the scene. Jax helped me stand up and I thanked him. My gaze wandered searching for my son, finding him sitting far behind the camera and staring at me with an unreadable expression.

He approached me with hesitant steps, avoiding eye contact. " So, you liked it, huh?" I teased him.

" At first yes, while you were still making eye contact with me." he asserted. " But not at all while you two got lost fucking like animals."

I chuckled and patted his head. " Baby, you gotta understand that sex is not all about romance, sometimes you just wanna get lost in the act."

He avoided responding to me and walked back to the car. I pitied him, he must have been hurt by the way I acted during the shoot.

I got cleaned and bid my farewell to all the cast, I found my baby boy playing with his phone while leaning on the car. He barely acknowledged my presence when I sat next to him. I drove back home, not daring to ask him how he felt.

" I'll order some dinner and we can watch a movie together, how does it sound?" I proposed as soon as we were in the safety of our house.

He shrugged and kept on his phone. I decided to give him space and not bother him for the rest of the evening.

I woke up to the sound of a knock on the door. " May I come in?" his voice was low and tender.

I sat up and opened the door. " Of course baby, what are you doing here so late?"

He walked into my room and closed the door behind him. I could smell his cologne, a scent so fresh and enticing. " Can I sleep here tonight?" he asked shyly.

" Of course." I welcomed him.

He hesitated not moving a centimetre. " Baby, if you want to be my partner you gotta be more confident within yourself." I began.

" I quit as you requested, now let me show you how good I am." I added signaling him to lie with me on the bed.

He complied and snuggled next to me. I cupped his face. " Don't you want me, baby?" I whispered seductively.

"I do." he confirmed. I kissed his lips, tasting his sweetness.

" Good. Now, let’s take off these pesky clothes." I cooed.

He stripped quickly, showing me his lean body and his hard dick. It was still impressive considering he hadn't hit puberty yet.

I removed my shirt and panties and straddled him. " Show me what you can do." I dared him.

He held my hips and guided me onto his dick, impaling me easily, I squeaked in shock. He moved his hips under me and I bounced on him, my tits swaying wildly as he pumped into me from below.

I leaned forward and kissed his forehead, feeling the sweat droplets forming on his skin. I pressed my chest to his and kissed him passionately as he fucked me.

He reached up and played with my tits, fondling them gently. I moaned at the pleasure of it all. His finger traced circles around my nipple causing me to shudder.

He picked up speed and his thrusts became more intense, slamming into me repeatedly. I cried out in bliss from his ministrations.

" You are gonna came me cum." I told him staring into his eyes.

His eyes darkened. " I know, you are." he affirmed.

" Yes, baby." I moaned. I rubbed myself against him feeling his thickness fill me.

He grasped my waist and rolled us over, putting himself in control. He pinned me beneath him and fucked me savagely, his thrusts powerful and deep.

" Ahhh!" I cried out, my body shivering in ecstasy. " Make me yours." I begged.

He grunted, his expression twisted in pleasure. " Mine." he muttered. " Only mine."

His body tensed and his cock pulsed inside of me. He growled and spilt himself into me, filling my hole with his load.

I orgasmed around him, squeezing his dick and milking him for more.

We stayed connected for a few moments, breathing heavily, sweat dripping on our bodies.

I rolled my hips around his sensitive length. " You did good, baby." I made him moan. " But mommy demands more."

He sighed happily but concern. " I'll do my best." he promised.

" Oh baby, I won't let you do anything less than your best and more." I rolled us once more. " You stay still and let me take care of you."

He nodded. " Whatever you want."

I began to move my hips slowly, rotating and grinding around his semi-erect cock. His breath hitched in response.

"You want my mouth again?" I teased. He nodded vigorously.

I crawled down his body and took him into my mouth, sucking and licking his head and shaft.

His member grew bigger in my mouth as I pleasured it with my tongue. His hips bucked up as I sucked him, eager for more of me.

He gasped and claimed me on him, I aligned him at my entrance and sank onto him, taking his length in one go.

He cursed at the feeling of my inner walls gripping his hardness. His eyes roamed my body, drinking in the view of me on top of him.

I rocked my hips, taking him deep into my core. His hands kneaded my ass as I bounced on his dick.

I leaned down and kissed him, moaning at the feeling of his tongue in my mouth. He sucked my bottom lip and nibbled on my neck.

I moved my hips faster, increasing the pace of our coupling. His hand reached down and rubbed my clit, causing me to moan louder.

" Yes!" I shouted as he rubbed my bud with his fingers. " You know how to make me feel good."

His hand felt magical on my body, playing my clit. I rode him harder and harder, feeling my orgasm approaching rapidly.

" Baby, try to hold back." I warned him, my body gave in and gushed out a torrent of liquid all over his stomach and cock.

I kept grinding on him through my climax, my muscles clenched around him.

He grunted in pain and pleasure. " Mommy!" he cried out.

I held him still inside of me during my climax.

I leaned in, kissing his lips eagerly. " Bravo, you didn't come yet." I praised him. " Now do all you desire to me."

His eyes darkened in desire. " Turn around." he demanded. I complied, crawling on my hands and knees in front of him.

" Spread your legs." he ordered. I did as told.

" What a beautiful ass you have." he complimented, slapping my cheeks lightly.

I moaned at the sting. " Harder, baby. Spank it."

He obliged smacking me harder, reddening my skin.

" Now, fuck it." I demanded. He didn't hesitate to plunge into me from behind, driving his cock deep inside of me.

His thrusts were brutal and relentless, he slapped my ass every time he bottomed out into me. My pussy clenched around him in pleasure.

" Ohhh!" I screamed.

His grip on my hip tightened as he fucked me wildly, his balls slapping against my thighs. His grunts were becoming more desperate and loud.

I leaned forward, bracing myself on the headboard. He bent over me and grabbed my tits, fondling and twisting them. His hot breath brushed against my ear.

" You like this?" he panted. " Being fucked by your son?"

"Yes." I breathed out. " More." I pleaded.

His fingers found my clit and rubbed it vigorously. I was close to reaching my climax again.

" Cum with me." I ordered.

He didn't argue. " I'm going to cum!" he shouted and slammed into me one last time before he emptied himself inside of me.

I squeezed his cock as he released his seed, milking him for all his worth. He collapsed on top of me, spent.

We remained there for a few minutes, his weight pressing down on me and his breath on my skin. His member still inside of me.

" That was great baby." I praised him.

He rolled off me and we cuddled in bed. " Thanks." he replied.

" You deserve it." I caressed his cheek. " I love you." I admitted.

"And I love you too, mum." he answered me. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, his eyelids drooping shut. I watched him fall asleep, lulled by the rhythm of my heartbeat. I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep too.

I woke up by the tip of his fingers tracing different paths on my body, his eyes looked at me with utter devotion. " Hi." he greeted me.

We cuddled for a bit, he got more clingy and affectionate than ever. " Baby, you gotta think to find a girlfriend sooner or later." I stated.

He frowned and squeezed my flesh in his hand. " Do not say blasphemous things." he hissed. " I won't leave you alone NEVER."

I smirked. " That's my boy."

Flesh pressed on flesh, as we explored each other’s bodies with carnal abandon. Together we steadily built to a crescendo of ecstasy. Our faces contorted with bliss, our breaths quickened, and our bodies tensed. We were one being, united in our mutual pleasure.

We crested the wave of rapture together. I cried out, overcome with euphoria, as he filled me with his essence. His cries mingled with mine, creating a symphony of passion.

As our bodies calmed, he collapsed on me. We shared a tender kiss, savouring the remnants of our climax. We basked in the glow of our union, our souls entwined in love. Our embrace was eternal, a testament to the depth of our bond. We knew that nothing could ever sever the ties that bound us together.

In the silence that followed, we shared a moment of pure understanding. Our connection transcended the boundaries of familial relations, and we were one in spirit and flesh. Our love was pure, untainted by the judgement of others. We had discovered our brand of heaven, right here on earth.

Together, we embarked on a journey of endless exploration, driven by the burning fire of our desires. Every day brought new experiences, fresh adventures that fueled our passion. Our love thrived in the secrecy of our sanctuary, free from the world's prying eyes.

In our hidden paradise, we indulged in a life of hedonistic pleasures, surrendering ourselves to the whims of our hearts. We revelled in the ecstasy of our love, secure in the knowledge that we were truly, madly, deeply in love.

#twice smut #twice x reader #twice mina #twice mina x male reader #twice #kpop x male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop bg

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