#this is a library not a make-out etc. spot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kikidoul · 22 days ago

Text

── LATE BITES & LIBRARY NIGHTS.

𓍯 synopsis: You find comfort in the quiet of the campus library after dark, but you’re not the only night owl. Heeseung—mysterious, effortlessly charming, and always tucked away in the same corner—seems to be there every night. What you don’t know is that he’s a vampire who feeds on energy, and yours feels different. He keeps coming back for it, but maybe—just maybe—it’s not just your energy he’s drawn to.

ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ vampire! 이희승 x fem! reader ᥫ᭡ content university au, strangers to lovers (implied), inaccurate vampire lore, smut, resolved sexual tension, blood drinking, dom! heeseung, pussy eating, face-sitting, fingering, usage of petnames, spitting etc wc: 8982...!? masterlist

note. this took me longer than expected. i hate to admit but i had more fun writing for heeseung rather than sunghoon's... sorry pookie. this was supposed to be 10k wc but i didn't want to drag this any further, sorry

You covered your ears, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips when you heard the all-too familiar giggles from your roommate with her boyfriend, followed by the door to her room slamming shut. You quickly grabbed your headphones, putting it on and managing to blast a song just in time to prevent yourself from hearing certain…sounds that made you scrunch your nose in disgust. You increased the volume until you were satisfied and resumed working on your project. However, your peacefulness could only last for so long.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered, able to hear the revolting sounds of the bed frame hitting the wall at an equal interval. Groaning, you decided to shove your things into your bag, with your headphones still on and left your dorm.

It was quiet outside, considering how it was already close to eight in the evening. There were some students hanging about on the campus. Some were heading home after having a productive study session in the library. Which was your current destination. Thankfully, the library was open twenty-four hours, meaning if there are anyone who’s like you: either looking for a quiet place or to grab some research materials, it’s always open for students. You headed to the third floor of the library, walking to find your usual spot.

There were students scattered across the place. Everyone had their heads bowed, wearing either head or earphones as they typed away on their laptops, the tables filled with multiple books they had borrowed from the shelves. You made a sharp turn on your right, heading to your usual spot.

Only for you to stop at the sight of someone occupying your seat.

Frowning, you adjust the strap of your bag on your left shoulder. You approached the stranger, who you identified as a male as you got closer. Now standing behind him, you were able to get a clear look at his notes. You blinked when you saw that he’s majoring in Cyber Security—a course that you’ve heard to be stressful, in terms of modules and assignments. Your eyes flickered to the stranger, visibly jumping out of your skin when you made eye contact.

He wore a plain, gray hoodie with the hood pulled up to cover his messy, black hair that curled just enough to look effortlessly perfect. His hands hovered over the keyboard of his laptop and one glance indicates he was in the midst of working on a report. You were able to see his perfect features—like he was carefully crafted from the hands of Gods and Goddess, who put their entire hearts and souls into making him to be the perfect and flawless human. His skin was a sweet, natural shade of honey that made you briefly wonder if he’ll taste just as sweet as he looks.

Great, a handsome stranger had stolen my seat.

The student arched an eyebrow, dropping his hands to rest on the table as he turned slightly to face you. “Uh, can I help you?”

“You’re sitting in my spot,” you blurted out, a wave of regret washing over you after you answered him.

The poor stranger was confused, owlishly blinking his eyes, darting back and forth—between the table and your figure. “But I don’t see a name here. So that means this isn’t your spot and anyone’s allowed to sit.”

You shot him a glare, despite knowing he was right. “Well, yeah. But still, I always sit here and if I sit anywhere else, I won’t be able to focus.”

Your response made him smirked, amused. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Crossing your arms, you held onto your last shred of sanity before you could raise your voice in the library, “Look, could you please kindly get out and sit somewhere else?”

“What makes you think I’ll do that? I came here first and first come first serve,” he retorted, crossing his arms. Despite his tone, you could tell he was having fun, judging from how his lips curled upwards in a smirk.

Swallowing the tempting urge to wipe it off his face, you narrowed your eyes, grip tightening on the strap of your bag. “All you need to do is to just move to another table so we’re not wasting anymore time. Then we’ll be out of one another’s way.” “I don’t know about you, but I think you’re wasting your own time, arguing with me when you can just find another spot or sit here,” he pointed out, making your left eyebrow subtly twitch.

Not wanting to admit out loud that he was right, you stomped your way to the other side of the table—the very same table he’s seated at and loudly plopped your bag down on it. You didn’t care if the sudden noise gained startled eyes thrown your way. Pulling out the chair, you sat down and began unpacking, pulling out your required materials and switching on your laptop. You scowled when you saw the stranger’s eyes on you the entire time.

“Done staring? You can take a picture if you want,” you sneered, snapping him out of his trance.

“Nah, I wouldn’t want to ruin my eyesight any further. I’m just surprised you chose to sit here, out of the other available tables,” he shrugged his shoulders, pointing at the few vacant tables around him. A teasing grin stretched across his face, leaning forward slightly with his hands on the table.

“Or maybe, you’re attracted to me, which is why you insist on sitting here,” he continued.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. I barely know you,” you hissed, feeling unusually warm when he chuckled—the sound sending your heart fluttering.

“Let’s change that, shall we? I’m Lee Heeseung, a second-year student majoring in Computer Science,” he introduced himself, reaching out his left hand for a handshake.

You wanted to refuse, but you didn’t want to be rude and decided to introduce yourself as well, accepting his handshake. “I’m (Full Name), a second-year student majoring in Finance and Accounting.”

“(Name)...”

Heeseung said your name and somehow, it sounded pleasant coming from him—a reason you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You ignored how shivers ran down your spine and how goosebumps formed on your skin at how smooth your name sounds coming from him.

What you didn’t know was how it didn’t go unnoticed by him. He caught the way you stiffened and it made him smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes. He released his hand from yours, still able to feel your lingering warmth against his.

“Nice to meet you, I have a feeling we’ll get along really really well,” he hums.

It has been three weeks since your first encounter with Heeseung. You weren’t sure why but something about him kept pulling you back to the library. You kept telling yourself you’re doing this so you could find a quieter place to study, without having to listen to your roommate having sex with her boyfriend. But deep down, you knew otherwise.

You’re there to see him.

Heeseung had become a part of your life, unknowingly making a spot in it without asking. You weren’t sure why but you were curious to find out more about him.

You had long forgiven him for taking your usual spot, now choosing to sit at the same table with him. It became a common sight to see him there before you, making you really curious what time he usually arrived. Sitting down, Heeseung wordlessly slid a large-sized takeaway cup towards you. You opened the lid and was immediately hit with the fragrance of a hot Vanilla Latte. Lips parting in surprise, you looked at him and he merely smiled.

“That’s your go-to order, right? You always order a hot Large Vanilla Latte at the cafe near campus,” he said.

You opened and closed your mouth, like a gaping fish out of the sea. “I—uh, y-yea… Wait, how do you even know that? Are you stalking me?” You accusingly narrowed your eyes at him.

Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Your heart chose to betray you at that very moment by skipping a beat, at how such a simple action done by him was able to evoke such a feeling from you.

“I’ve seen enough to know what you always order. Consider this as a toast to our new friendship,” he replied, gesturing for you to take a sip.

You dug your nails into the cup, awkwardly clearing your throat and taking a small, cautious sip of your drink. Your tastebuds were filled with the overly sweet taste—just the way you liked it. You almost grinned, managing to catch yourself when you realized that Heeseung had been staring at you the entire time, eyes never leaving your face. His right fist that was resting on the table, was clenched tightly, almost as if he was holding himself back.

“What?” You asked.

Blinking rapidly, Heeseung snapped out of his trance and put on an innocent smile. “Well? Does it taste good?”

“...Yeah, it does. Thanks for the drink,” you mumbled, eyes averted to the side. “Next time, the drink’s on me.”

“Oh? How generous of you,” he teased, voice switching to a smooth, velvety-like tone that made something in your lower stomach stirred.

“S-Shut up and start studying,” you retorted, internally groaning at how you stumbled over your words. Heeseung smirks and thankfully, drops the teasing as he redirects his attention to his laptop. And just like that, the both of you fall back into the usual peaceful silence that you had gotten used to.

Today however, you stopped before an empty table. Confused, you looked around—eyes searching for him but he was nowhere to be found. Shrugging it off as Heeseung was busy, you took your seat, leaving his seat empty and continued doing your revisions. Examinations were around the corner and you couldn’t afford to slack, for the pressure of getting good grades was constantly gnawing at you, slowly eating you away.

You couldn’t focus, eyes flicking up more than usual, doing a quick scan of your surroundings. But there was no sign of him. Sighing, you slipped on your headphones, hoping music will help you to focus better. You paused when you saw something or someone, in this case.

There Heeseung stood, at the edge of the row, watching you.

You blinked in surprise, body going as stiff as a statue. He didn’t move, simply standing there, half-shadowed by a tall shelf. His hood was down, revealing his abyssal-like hair. However, what caught your attention was his eyes. They were…different. They glinted unnaturally under the fluorescent lights, like they caught something the rest of the world didn’t. They weren’t the usual color—warm brown or black. No, they were red.

Lips parting, you were tempted to say something, “Where were you? You’re late today. I saved your seat, you should be grateful.” But the words died in your throat. You couldn’t find it in yourself to speak, eyes fixated on Heeseung, who had not blinked at all.

Something was wrong. His skin was paler than usual, almost translucent under the light. His shoulders tensed up, lips pressed tightly together, like he was forcing himself to stay still, to not move from where he stood. He looked hungry. It wasn’t the same hunger that you’d feel, like when you had skipped meals for the whole day. No, it was like Heeseung hadn’t eaten for months, like he was starving himself to death.

And then, just like that, he blinked and the strange intensity vanished. He flashed you his signature, charming smile, approaching you with his bag hanging loosely by his shoulder and took his seat. He opened his laptop along with his notebook and began typing. It was like nothing had happened. Like he wasn’t staring at you with an intense gaze in his eyes, intense enough to make your hair stand upright.

But you felt it—the slight shift in the air. The way your skin prickled when he stared too long. The way your pulse seemed to echo louder in your ears tonight. Tonight, something was different. And for the first time, you started to wonder just who or what, Heeseung really was. You decided to confide in your friend who has been there with you, through thick and thin and has seen you at your worst—Sim Jaeyun.

“Jaeyun, do you know Heeseung?” You asked, voice slightly muffled due to you burying your face in your pillow.

The two of you are in your room and much to your relief, your roommate was away, finally giving you a break from hearing her going at it with her boyfriend. Jake raised his head from where he sat; at your desk with his laptop opened, reflecting his Google Documents as he was in the midst of working on his report.

“Yeah, we’re roommates, actually,” he replied, and you instantly lifted your head from the pillow, staring at him in disbelief.

“What?’

Jake scratched the back of his neck. “What? Why are you so surprised?”

You scrambled to push yourself up, placing the pillow on your lap. “Because you never told me!”

“Because you didn’t ask!”

“Yeah well, this is your fault,” you pointed at him.

He threw his hands up, an incredulous and offended look on his face. “Seriously? You didn’t ask and now it’s my fault? Women…”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that but moving on, have you noticed anything…weird about Heeseung?” You asked, leaning forward slightly with an unusually serious expression on your face.

“No? Heeseungie hyung’s either spending most of his time playing games or studying his ass off,” the other shrugged his shoulders. “Why the sudden question?”

You hesitated, unsure if you should tell him about your recent discovery before you thought against it, shaking your head. “Nothing, forget I said anything.”

Jake eyes you, obviously not buying your response. “Don’t tell me you have a crush on him.”

Your jaw dropped, eyes widening to the point they might pop out from its sockets. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“What? That’s the most logical conclusion I can come up with! You’ve never talked about any guys and then out of nowhere, you asked me about hyung!” He defended himself.

You threw a pillow at him, eliciting a squawk when it landed right in his face, nearly smashing his glasses in the process. Jake flung it back at you and the next thing you knew, you’re engaged in a rather intense pillow fight with him. Of course, Jake emerged as the winner, as he always does and you have no choice but to surrender. You laid on the bed, panting to catch your breath and Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Look, I love you as a friend but seriously? Out of everyone, it has to be Heeseung?”

“It’s not like that!”

“Sure sure, and in the few years down the road, I’ll be attending your wedding.”

“Sim Jaeyun!”

You arrived at the library two days later and there Heeseung was, already at his rightful seat with his headphones on. He raised his head when you reached the table, his face lighting up at the sight of you. Pulling down his headphones, he gave you a warm smile, idly spinning his pen in his left hand.

“I thought you won’t show up and leave me here, all alone,” he faked a disappointed sigh, hand placed on his chest.

“Haha, very funny,” you dryly replied, taking out your things as you placed them on the table.

It became a routine for either you or Heeseung to be buying drinks for one another. And today, it was your turn. You slid his drink towards him and you could tell he was surprised, with how he paused for a moment. “Is that for me?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, who else is it for? If you don’t want it then I can drink it.” You reached for it but he was faster, snatching it away from your grip. He held it close to him, protecting it like it was his newborn child.

“No! You bought it for me so I’m thankful,” he protested, opening the lid to take a peek at what’s inside, only for him to whistle; impressed. “How did you know what I always order? Did you stalk me?”

“No, you idiot. I asked your roommate; Jake,” you retorted, remembering the amount of torture you had sit through when your friend couldn’t stopped teasing you.

Heeseung made a sound of acknowledgement, taking a small sip and let out a sigh of relief, shoulders sagging. He then straightened himself when he remembered something. “Ah, speaking of Jaeyunnie, he told me something very interesting.”

“I don’t think anything’s interesting when it’s from him.”

“Shh, let me speak,” he shushes you and you once again, rolling your eyes at his antics and he continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“He told me that a certain someone has a crush on me.”

Your heart fell and your world came crashing down. It took all of your self-restraint to not show any emotions on your face, despite how your heart was practically pounding against your chest. You moved your hands: from the table to your lap, so Heeseung couldn’t see how you had clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms. Your throat felt dry all of a sudden, like you were dehydrated.

“And who is this certain someone?” You asked, choosing to play along.

Heeseung’s eyes never left your face, watching you, observing you. “I think you and I both know the answer to that, (Name).”

“I…” Your voice trailed off, squirming about in your seat as you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of his unwavering gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You managed to reply but somehow, the words felt weird on your tongue, like you had replied in another language. Or maybe, you weren’t telling the truth and refused to confront it. Heeseung cocked his head to the side, the small movement causing his earrings to sway side to side. He studies you, not even blinking once and gods, it was hard trying to act like nothing was happening, like you were perfectly fine.

After what felt like a decade, Heeseung lets you off the hook. “If you say so! Now, let’s work on our assignments, shall we? Our examinations are round the corners and I don’t want to flunk them.”

You groaned at the unnecessary reminder. “Ugh, please don’t remind me.”

None of you said another word after that, each focused on your respective tasks. It was just another regular night spent at the library. Another day closer to your much-dreaded examinations. But something was wrong. You felt…weird. The first sign was you rubbing your eyes as your vision began to blur slightly, the words reflected on your laptop screen started to dance, lifting itself up and down. It hasn’t even been an hour since you arrived and you were feeling tired already.

Your limbs felt unnaturally heavier than usual, like a slow fog was creeping into your mind. Shaking it off, you reached for your drink, stealing a glance at your fellow tablemate. To your annoyance and faint awe, he looked perfect—way too perfect, if you’re being honest. He wasn’t wearing his headphones anymore, leaving them hanging around his neck while he squinted at the screen of his laptop, still idly spinning the pen with his left hand. The sleeves of his hoodie were pushed up to his elbows, revealing a rather eye-catching pair of forearms, with veins prominent under soft skin.

The sight of it made your cheeks flushed red. It took all of your restraint to tear your eyes away from it, not wanting to be caught red-handed. Heeseung was completely focused and unaffected, unlike you. You sighed, leaning back in your seat to stretch your legs, lightly nudging his feet underneath the table—gaining his attention.

“I feel…tired,” you mumbled, stretching your arms above your head as you covered your mouth when you yawned.

Heeseung looked up, eyes meeting yours almost instantly. “You okay?” His voice was gentle and soothing, but his gaze was sharper than usual. “Did you eat earlier before coming here?”

“Yeah, I did,” you mumbled. “Just… I don’t know, I feel really tired. A weird kind of tiredness.”

He merely offered a small smile. “You’ve been studying too much. You should call it a night and head back.”

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes again but this time, more furious. “No, it’s fine. I need to go through two more topics before I’m done for the night. Or else I’ll lag behind,” you insisted.

You looked down at your notes, oblivious to Heeseung’s knowing gaze on you, like he already knew what’s happening to you. Like he was expecting this. You tried to focus, tried to solve a simple question but the letters were starting to blur again. Some were mixed together and you had misread the numbers reflected on the small screen of your calculator. Your chest felt slightly heavier, not painful, but weighted—like something invisible was slowly wrapping itself around you.

Seated across from you, Heeseung changed his position and has now slipped on his headphones. He begins typing away on his laptop—probably having figured out what to write after spending a long time staring at the screen and searching for reliable sources on the Internet. The library was quiet as usual, allowing you to pick up a strange hum in your ears. It was faint and low, like a soft vibration. Like the air was buzzing around the both of you.

And then, it passed.

Suddenly, as if a switch was flipped, your body felt lighter and clearer. The fog you felt previously vanished into thin air. You blinked in surprise, taking in a sharp breath. Whatever strange feeling that was just now, it was gone and you were back to normal. You looked up and made eye contact with Heeseung again. This time however, he was quick to look away the moment your eyes met.

His strange behavior made you narrowed your eyes, feeling suspicious of him. He looked too composed. It was as if he had finished something he didn’t want you to notice. But you did and you just didn’t know what it was. All you know however, is that you need to get to the bottom of this, no matter what.

Examinations were over and as per routine, you were at Jake’s dorm, ready to have your usual movie marathon. Only this time however, there was an additional person joining: Heeseung. You were in the kitchen, struggling to grab a bowl for popcorn that was placed on the higher shelf. It was out of reach for you and you muttered a string of curses under your breath.

And then, you felt a presence behind you. You froze on the spot when a firm chest was pressed against your back. You knew who it was without turning, his cologne filling your senses, making you feel light-headed.

“You could’ve asked for help instead of struggling by yourself,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath grazing against your skin.

“And who do I ask for? You?” You replied.

A chuckle. “I’m glad to know I’m always in your mind.”

“You—!?”

You turned, ready to give him a piece of your mind, only for your voice to die in your throat at the proximity between the two of you. He was so close that you had to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. The space between you was barely a breath, making you instinctively backed up—only for your hips to bump into the edge of the kitchen counter behind you.

You froze but Heeseung didn’t move. Instead, his teasing smile deepened to something lazy, amused and confident. His eyes glanced down briefly to your parted lips for a split second but it didn’t go unnoticed by you. If anything, it only made your cheeks flushed red and your body temperature rising, despite how cold it was, due to the air-conditioner in the living room.

“What were you gonna say?” He asks, voice low.

You dryly swallowed. “You’re annoying.” Much to your dismay, your words lack the bite and Heeseung chuckled, eyes glinting knowingly. Like he knew the effect he has on you and he was proud of it.

“Annoying?” He leans in slightly, one hand bracing against the counter beside your waist. “I don’t think you’re telling the truth.”

Your pulse picked up instantly, heart beating loudly and you could only pray he didn't hear it. Heeseung didn’t touch you—but gods, you wished he did. You want to know how his hands will feel, tracing random patterns on your skin. You want to know how his lips will feel against your skin. You want him to leave physical evidence behind—to show that you were taken. You want him to devour you whole, both physically and mentally.

Tightening your grip on the counter surface, you tried to scoff, to laugh it off but your voice was quieter than you expected. “Don’t flatter yourself, Heeseung.”

He cocked his head to the side, the corners of his lips twitching up. “It’s too late for that.”

Because this is Heeseung, he leans in a little more, his free hand grazing the edge of the counter behind you, fingers brushing against yours. His touch was fleeting, barely there but it was enough to make you crave for more.

More, more, more.

That was what the voices in your mind were chanting—like they were famished beasts, wanting to be fed. You shoved them aside, choosing to remain rational and continued playing the facade—the facade of pretending that Heeseung hasn’t already had you wrapped around his finger.

“You gonna run?” He murmured, voice sweet and dripping with temptation.

You shook your head, not trusting in your voice.

“Thought so,” he smirked, leaning in until your noses brushed against one another. Your eyes flickered down, waiting with bated breath as he gets closer and closer—

“Ow!” You exclaimed, hand rubbing the now sore spot on your head. The culprit responsible merely chuckled and moved away, unaware of how your fingers twitched. tempted to pull him back in.

“I’d hurry up if I were you, or Jake’s gonna throw a fuss,” Heeseung grins, stepping out of the kitchen, leaving you standing there, heart beating at lightning speed and mind in a daze.

When you finally recollected yourself and returned to the living room, the two roommates were already seated on the couch. To your dismay, they had left a seat for you—in the middle of Heeseung and Jake. Sighing, you placed the bowl on the coffee table as you took your seat, pointedly ignoring how Heeseung had shifted closer the moment you sat down. Jake, on the other hand, maintained a respectful amount of distance between you—something you’re grateful for.

“What movie are we watching?” You asked, making yourself comfortable, removing your slippers and moving to sit in a cross-legged position.

Jake shrugged his shoulders as the opening scene started to play. “Not sure but I think it’s a movie about vampires.”

You laughed, leaning forward to grab the bowl of popcorn but Heeseung was faster. He snatched the bowl away, faster than you could blinked and wasted no time in shoving a mouthful of the snack down his throat. You shot him an annoyed glare but he remained unfazed, choosing to send you an infuriating smirk instead.

“Vampires aren’t real though. I don’t think I’ve seen one before,” you admitted, reaching over with the attempt of stealing some popcorn but Heeseung merely stretched his arm, pulling the bowl away from your grip.

Jake paid no mind to his roommate’s antics, having gotten used to it now. His eyes were fixated on the screen as the movie started playing. “I’d like to think they’re real. What about you, hyung? What do you think?”

Heeseung paused at his question and you took the chance to snatch the bowl back, cheering to yourself. “Vampires are real.”

You snort, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes. “Ok Mister Smartass, then where’s your evidence to support your claim?”

He shrugged his shoulders, stretching his long legs out and your eyes flickered down to how he spread his legs, making you gulp. You were quick to look away when he glanced at your face, smirking. Your muscles instinctively tensed when your clothed shoulders and knees brushed against one another. At this rate, the movie was already in its opening scene, introducing the main character.

“Depends on what kind of evidence you’re looking for,” he replied, leaning in to whisper into your ear. You instantly shoved him away, not expecting him to do that. Your flustered reaction elicited a laugh from Heeseung.

“Relax, I won’t bite. Unless you want me to,” he coos.

You didn’t reply with words, choosing to fling a cushion at his face instead.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, can you two stop talking?”

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as the three of you were engrossed in the movie. You were fully aware of Heeseung shifting closer and closer until your shoulders are now properly touching. Thankfully, he couldn’t see how goosebumps formed on your skin. The bowl of popcorn is now empty, thanks to Heeseung who finished the rest of the popcorn in the span of ten minutes, much to your disbelief and annoyance. Jake had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle, leaving the two of you alone.

The scene currently playing was when the female lead had surrendered herself to the male lead—who is actually a vampire. You dug your nails into the cushion placed on your lap, unable to tear your eyes away when he sunk his pearly-white, sharp canines into her neck. Your cheeks turned red when you heard the moans from the female lead. Based on the expression she had—closed eyes, biting down on her bottom lip and hands gripping onto the other’s shoulders for dear life, you could tell she was enjoying it.

The scene was nothing but erotic, making you clenched down on nothing but thin air. You flinched; startled, when Heeseung placed his hand on your shoulder. Your head snapped to his direction, throat going dry when you made eye contact with him. He furrowed his eyebrows, noting how you were tense underneath his palm.

“You good? You’re tense,” he murmured, hand trailing down to rest on the cushion, fingers grazing against yours. The touch was fleeting—similar to what you experienced back in the kitchen. Where he almost kissed you.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” you stuttered and he was quick to catch on.

Heeseung’s eyes darkened, corners of his lips tempted to twitch upwards. You tried to focus on something else. Something else that wasn’t him but it was hard. With how he was looking at you, like you were his everything. Like he’s nothing but your loyal worshipper. But then, something shifted.

It was subtle at first—a slow wave of fatigue rolling through your body. Like your limbs were getting heavier by the second, like your mind was thickening with fog. You blinked, trying to shake it off, but it kept creeping in. You could barely focus and your breath grew shallow without reason. Heeseung stilled beside you, struck with realization with what he had done. His fingers retracted immediately and the weight vanished.

Your head snapped towards him. “Did you—?” You paused, realizing how dizzy you felt a few seconds ago. “What was that just now?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, his eyes suddenly avoiding yours. He leaned back slightly, further than he usually would. As if creating distance would undo whatever just happened. “Nothing. You’re imagining things.”

His reply was crude and short, not giving you any room to question him. To demand him for answers. But you knew better. You knew that was the exact same feeling you felt back in the library. It was easy for you to connect the dots together—Heeseung is the reason why you’re feeling like this. You didn’t want to be left in the dark any longer. Which was why you grabbed his wrist when he stood up, attempting to retreat to the safety of his room.

“Wait—Heeseung,” you stopped him.

The second your fingers wrapped around his wrist, your heart dropped. That same feeling. That same quiet, invisible pull. Like the energy from your fingers was being siphoned, slow and steady, feeding something beneath his surface. Heeseung flinched, pulling away from you—like you were some kind of contagious virus that he didn’t want to be infected with. Like you were poison to him.

“Don’t,” he said, barely above a whisper. His voice cracked—not with anger, but guilt. “Just… not right now.”

And with that, he left. You sat frozen, staring at your hand where he had been just seconds before.

Just what the hell is he?

That was the last time you saw him. Two months have passed since you last saw Heeseung. You have searched and looked everywhere for him, but it was like he had disappeared without traces. You had even asked Jake but he too, was just as clueless as you are. According to him, Heeseung had packed his things and left, his room was empty—like he wasn’t there in the first place. You were frustrated. Frustrated at this wild goose chase you were pulled into. Frustrated at how you couldn’t find him. Just when you were about to give up, he randomly reappeared in your life.

Knock knock.

It was close to midnight when it happened. You looked up from your work, confused. Your roommate wasn’t around—having returned home to visit her family. As far as you were aware, no one in their right mind would be wandering around this late at night. Nervous, you approached the door and looked through the peephole, only to be speechless when you recognized him. You instantly flung open the door, revealing none other than Heeseung.

You were about to bombard him with questions when you took note of his state. He stood before you, drenched in shadows, hoodie soaked from the heavy rain outside. But what really froze you was the way he looked at you—eyes wild, dark circles under them, panting like he had run miles just to get here. And he looked…pale. Unwell.

No—he wasn’t unwell.

“Heeseung, what—are you okay?” You asked, stepping back to let him in.

He didn’t respond right away and didn’t move from his spot. His body was tense, hands clenched tightly at his sides like he was fighting something. Eventually, he entered and you closed the door behind him, heart hammering.

“What’s going on with you? Why did you come here?”

He turned to you then, finally, his gaze locking with yours—and for the first time since you met him, he looked desperate. “I didn’t want to come here,” he rasped. “I tried to stay away. I really did.”

Your throat went dry. “Stay away from what?”

Heeseung sighed—the simple sound contains so much tension. “I can’t keep pretending anymore. I’ve tried to only feed on your energy but—it’s not enough. I know you’ve suspected something by now. I’ve seen the way you looked at me.”

“You’re not human, aren’t you?” You whispered.

“No,” he breathed, eyes flickering red for just a split second. “I’m not.”

You stared at him, your back brushing against the wall now. “Then what are you?”

“I’m a vampire,” he confessed, the word hanging heavy between the two of you. “And I’m trying so hard not to hurt you right now.”

You could see it—the way his jaw clenched, the way he kept his distance like your scent was driving him mad, insane. His whole body trembled, not with fear, but hunger. Pain.

“I didn’t mean to feed on you,” he continued. “It just—happened. I didn’t think I’d get addicted to you.”

You were trembling now but it wasn’t from fear. It was from the weight of truth. From how raw and broken he looked.

“And now? What are you planning to do?” You asked quietly.

Heeseung’s eyes glowed faintly under the lights. “Now, I need you to either kick me out, or tell me to stay.”

Your lips moved before your mind could process it. “Stay.”

He flinched. “Don’t say that. Not when you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I don’t care,” you replied, stepping closer, ignoring how your hands were shaking. “You’re in pain and you came to me. I don’t want you to suffer any longer. Let me help you, please?”

Heeseung’s breath hitched, eyes snapping to you in disbelief. “Are you sure? Do you know what you’re offering me?”

You swallowed thickly, cocking your head to the side—exposing your unblemished, clear neck for him. Like you were surrendering yourself to him, letting him take you. “You want this, don’t you?”

Heeseung’s eyes fluttered shut, jaw tightening like it physically hurt him to look. “Don’t tempt me,” he whispered.

“I’m not,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I trust you.”

Those words were the final straw and something in him snapped. Heeseung closed the remaining distance, one arm slipping around your waist to hold you steady as the other gently cradled the back of your head. He ducked his head, greedily inhaling your scent, nearly moaning out loud at how intoxicating your scent was. He could feel his sanity slipping away as every second passed. His lips hovered over your neck, lips shaking as his fangs grew from where it was hidden.

“Last chance to back out,” he whispered, burying his face in the crook of your neck, allowing him to be completely engulfed in your scent.

“I’m not backing out,” you replied, eyelids fluttering shut when he tightened his grip on your waist.

And then—you felt it. A brief, sharp sting, like the prick of a needle, followed by a flow of rush of warmth. It wasn’t painful. In fact, it was enjoyable. You briefly remembered the movie you had watched, vividly remembering how the female lead was enjoying herself while she was being fed on. And now you know why she was acting like that. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper, knees buckling and hands gripping onto his drenched, heavy hoodie.

You could feel him trembling against you, fighting to stay gentle, controlled. He drank like someone trying not to drown in thirst, like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. And then, as quickly as it started—it stopped. Heeseung pulled away, panting softly against your shoulder, hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d collapse. His lips were red, with blood—your blood on them. His eyes were back to normal, no longer red.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I tried to stop sooner. I shouldn’t have—”

You didn’t know what took over you. Maybe it was due to you being light-headed. Maybe it was due to the heat of the moment. Or maybe, just maybe, it was due to you directly comforting your feelings for him.

Nothing you read in those cliche romance books could compare to the feeling of your lips pressed together. It feels right, like Heeseung was the final missing puzzle piece and with him, you were able to complete your puzzle. He eagerly reciprocated it, the hand previously cradling the back of your head moved to rest it against your left cheek, thumb drawing invisible lines on your skin. His other hand rested against the hem of your shirt, thumb sliding underneath to trace random patterns—sending shivers down your spine.

The taste of metallic invades your mouth but you don't care. In fact, you find it rather arousing to be able to taste your own blood. Heeseung groaned when you obediently parted your lips, allowing him the chance of exploring your warm, wet mouth with his tongue. You choked out what sounded like a mixture of a whine and whimper when he leisurely sucked on your tongue, causing your knees to buckle. You would’ve fallen to the ground if Heeseung didn’t carry you in his arms.

Without breaking the kiss, he brings you to your bedroom—like he has been here before. He gently placed you down on the bed and finally, broke the kiss. A trail of saliva snapped into half when he leaned his head back, drinking in the sight of your current state. To say you were breathtaking would be an understatement. Your eyes were dazed and misty. Your swollen, bruised lips were stained with your blood and some were trickling down your chin, disappearing underneath your shirt that he was tempted to rip it off you.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, in awe with the sight before him. Your face turned red, growing shy when he couldn’t stop staring at you.

“Hee,” you whined, lips jutting down in a pout. “Do something, please?”

Heeseung groaned at how you were sweetly pleading for him. He made quick work of your clothes and tossed it to the floor, not caring where it landed. He was wearing a black tank top with his sweatpants while you, on the other hand, were naked. You yelped when your vision flipped a whole three-hundred sixty degrees, resulting in you seated on his lap while Heeseung leaned against the bed frame, a lazy, arrogant smirk stretched across his handsome face.

An involuntary gasp left your lips at how he purposely flexed his thigh, the friction against your already soaked, leaking folds made you whine, head tilting back. Heeseung chuckled, the sound seemingly loud in your room.

“You like that?” He murmured, eyes never leaving your face. When you nodded your head, he rested his hands on your waist, drawing circles on your skin. “Yeah? How about you ride my thigh? Wanna watch you cum without me touching you.”

You whined at his words, sending heat straight to your gut. Not wanting to disappoint him, you rested your hands on his upper thigh and began moving your hips back and forth. At first, it was awkward as Heeseung kept staring at you. But the awkwardness was replaced with pleasure once you found a steady rhythm. Besides, the delirious feeling of the fabric of his sweatpants against your cunt was getting to you, enough to make you feel light-headed. And embarrassingly, enough to make you cum, leaving a dark, wet spot behind as evidence.

You pawed at his tank top like a desperate puppy, frustrated tears brimming in your eyes. Heeseung coos, voice dripping with faux sweetness. He reached out, resting one hand against your cheek and you were quick to lean into his touch.

“Aw, what’s wrong, princess? Is it not enough for you?” He purrs.

You opened your mouth, wanting to reply, only to gasp when his other hand had sneakily snaked its way between your thighs. With his index and middle fingers, he parted your folds, wanting to take a look at the mess you had made.

“Heeseung!” You cried out when he pushed two fingers in without warning.

The vampire cursed under his breath at how tight you feel, your walls clamping onto his fingers for dear life, not wanting to let him go. His mouth waters, the temptation to taste you increases as he fingers you, pulling and pushing his fingers back in. You were practically leaking like a faucet, coating the two long, slender digits with your slick. Your ears turned red at the loud, obscene squelching sounds echoing amongst the four walls.

You forgot how to breathe when Heeseung brought the fingers—the very same fingers that were inside you, to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slips them into his mouth. A pink and reddish tongue darts out, licking away at your slick. You couldn’t do anything, only sitting prettily on his lap, like you were his trophy wife, watching as the vampire gets a taste of what heaven feels like.

“Fuck, you taste divine, sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his now cleaned fingers out with an audible “pop”.

Heeseung pulled you closer, pushing himself down the bed until his head was on your pillow. You knew what he wanted and to say you were excited would be an understatement. You let him manhandle you as he pleases, heat pooling in the depths of your stomach with how his strength easily overwhelms yours—something you find to be extremely attractive. Eventually, you were hovering over his face. He pulled you down until you were directly sitting on his face, not caring about breathing (Although, do vampires even need to breathe?).

The first contact of Heeseung’s tongue against your heated, damped skin nearly made you toppled over. He starts slow, gentle, warming the both of you up for the main dish to be served later. And despite how he had just started, you were already panting, breathless. You even had to grab a fistful of his hair to ground yourself. Heeseung’s tongue drags flat over your clit, purposely taking his sweet time in circling the bud peeking out with the tip of his tongue, drawing out a seamless stream of moans from you.

“C’mon, ride my face,” he said, voice muffled with how he was burying his face deeper into your cunt. Heeseung was already addicted to your taste and for a moment, he wondered how he had managed to survive this long without tasting you.

You tried to move but your thighs were quivering like fallen leaves, leaving him no choice but to guide your hips, moving you forward and back, in time with the stroke of his tongue, creating friction against your clit. Your mouth dropped open, forming a large ‘O’ shape as you begin moving on your own, after being provided some guidance. Heeseung was pleased, judging from how he hummed in satisfaction.

All it took was one mischievous curl of that skillful tongue of his, slipping past your folds and pushing in deep, and the taunt string inside snapped. You let out a high-pitched, downright pornographic moan as you cum hard on Heeseung’s tongue. You tried to pull away, not wanting to suffocate him but his grip on your hips tightened—a silent, unspoken warning. You nearly fell over, no longer having any strength but Heeseung was quick to move you off of him.

You squeaked at how his face was dripping with your slick. Droplets of it trickled down his face, landing on your pillow and the sheets. His nose and lips were glistening underneath the light. Heeseung laughed at your flustered reaction, turning to place you on your back with him hovering over you. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, about to wipe it off on the sheets when an invisible light bulb went off in his mind.

“Here, how about you taste yourself?” He asks, collecting your slick with two fingers and hovers near your lips.

Your eyes flickered between his expectant face and fingers. You parted your lips and Heeseung was quick to shove it down your throat, making you gagged at the sudden intrusion. You obediently cleaned his fingers as thoroughly as possible, not wanting to leave any spot uncleaned. When he pulled them out, he crashed his lips against yours, swallowing your muffled sounds.

“H-Hee, wan’ you,” you begged against his lips.

“Where do you want me? Use your words and tell me,” he asks, eyes twinkling at the scowl you shot him.

With the remains of your sanity and courage left, you wrapped your legs around his waist, using his split moment of being surprised to pull him down so his cock was directly against your sensitive cunt. You gulped when you could feel how big he was, even through his sweatpants and boxers. You didn’t know how it’ll fit in you but only time will tell.

“Wan’ you here, please?” You pleaded, looking at him through your eyelashes.

Heeseung groaned, hands fumbling to remove his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his cock that was proudly standing upright against his stomach. The tip had turned an angry shade of reddish-purple due to the lack of attention. You parted your legs, rearranging the pillow and slid another one underneath your hips for support. Digging your hands into the sheets, you watched in bated breath as he aligned himself against your entrance—

Only for him to not push in.

Instead, he decides to tease you by moving his cock in slow, teasing circles around your clit. You whined, shuffling forward, trying to get him to be inside you but Heeseung moved away, drawing a sound of protest from the sudden distance. You made grabby hands, looking at him through teary eyes—attempting to plead for mercy, hoping that somewhere in him, there’s a part of him that’s weak for you.

Luckily, Heeseung was already reaching his limit. He shoves himself in in one go, cock filling you up and hitting the right places in one, simple motion. Your back arched off the bed, head tilted back to expose your neck that has a singular bite mark left behind by him. You cried out, feeling yourself being split apart on his cock. Your legs trembled, walls pulsating as you tried to get used to his girth.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, pulling out until his tip was inside and moved his hips forward, drawing more angelic sounds from you.

Determined to hear more, Heeseung started off strong, hips furiously snapping against yours with no mercy. Creaking sounds could be heard along with the bed frame hitting the wall at equal intervals. Your cries blended in with Heeseung’s moans, creating a harmonious symphony that’s music to his ears. You reached for him and he was quick to follow, leaning down to kiss you, tossing your legs over his shoulders until he was bending you in half.

It wasn’t really a kiss, not when you were panting and whimpering against his lips. But with the close proximity, Heeseung is able to get a front-row seat for every microexpression you make. How you furrowed your eyebrows when his cock hits the same spot that made you see stars. How you bit down on your bottom lips. He reached out, thumb pressed on your bottom lip and you looked at him, already gone.

“Open your mouth,” he demands, a twinge of satisfaction purrs at how you compiled without hesitation. Gathering as much saliva he could, he spits into your mouth, smirking at how you clenched down on his cock at his action.

“Swallow.”

You whined, obeying his words and he hums.

“Good girl,” he coos, savoring the way you shuddered at the praise. He decides to tuck it aside for a later time. Right now, he wants to focus on making you cum for the third time with his cock.

Heeseung increased his rhythm, hand now fiddling with your clit—spreading your folds apart to look at how you’re connected together. He knew you were reaching your climax, with how your muscles tightened and how your moans were getting more high-pitched, breathless “ah, ah, ah” spilling endlessly from your lips. His eyes landed on your neck, more specifically, the other side of your neck that was clean from any bite marks.

Before he could think twice, he ducked his head, sinking his teeth into your neck, drinking your blood. That was enough to tip you over the edge. You came with you chanting his name like a prayer and Heeseung was quick to follow suit, releasing his seed deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, earning a squawk from you as you smacked his shoulder.

“Ew, get off! You’re sweaty!” You complained, only for your voice to be reduced to a whimper when he subtly moved. The small movement made his cock rub against your sensitive spot.

“How cruel. Treating me like this when I just blew your back out,” he whined, burying his face in your neck, tongue darting out to lick at the new bite mark, watching as it heals with his saliva that has healing properties.

You scrunch your nose. “Ugh, please never say that again.”

Laughing, Heeseung slowly pulled out and you wanted to close your legs, only for him to stop you. You gulped at the evident desire in his eyes. He shifted to his elbows, face hovering dangerously near your stretched out and overly-sensitive cunt.

“Let me clean you up, alright?” He grins and you know you’re in for a long night…

The next morning, you were in the kitchen making coffee when the door was pushed open. You groaned, knowing it was your roommate who had returned from her trip. The door slammed shut as she dumped the keys on the small glass bowl she had got for the both of you.

“Hey, you! How’ve you been?” She greeted you, embracing you in a bone-crushing hug. You would have dropped your coffee if you didn’t place it down on the counter.

Returning the hug, you smiled and pulled away. “I’m good. How was the trip and your family?”

Your roommate rolled her eyes. “Ugh, you won’t believe what I had to go through—”

“Baby, why didn’t you wake me up?”

Oh great.

The two of you turned to the new voice, to see Heeseung with half-opened eyes and messy hair. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only in his sweatpants as he leaned against the kitchen doorway. Your roommate openly gaped, head snapping back and forth as she looks at the two of you, connecting the dots together.

You sighed, already knowing what she’s planning to say. “Dont—”

“I was away for one month and I came back, to see you’ve gotten yourself a boyfriend!?”

taglist: @byshens, @yourislandgirl, @cutehoons02, @nugwon, @blooqz, @elairah, @sofiafromvenus, @mi-nyeo, @m1kkso, @dreamiestay, @baedreamverse, @hoonstqr, @rustymoons, @cripplinghooman, @in-somnias-world, @firstclassjaylee, @starfallia, @isagistar (only for heeseung), @kryllea, @chaewonmyheartt, @iamliacamila, @fancypeacepersona, @ilovhoonie, @woniescheeks, @jungwonswife4life, @ikeugirly, @jakessrealwife

#── desire unleashed.#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enha x reader #enha smut #enhypen smut #enha hard hours #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x y/n #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #heeseung smut

2K notes · View notes

apatheticsunday · 3 months ago

Text

Dead Tired College AU

AKA "Danny Fenton and Tim Drake go to college at Gotham-U together" headcanon!!

Maybe Danny moved to Gotham to avoid his parents finding out about Phantom and Tim is a part-time college student trying to get his business degree so people stop accusing Bruce Wayne of nepotism after Tim inherited WE. (It absolutely still is, but at least this way Tim is at least somewhat more qualified on paper.)

Anyways, they both took Anthropology as their humanities/pre-requisite elective and they're discussing death rituals, afterlife, etc. Now imagine Danny, officially Half-Dead, and Tim, who's brothers (Jason and Damian) literally died, getting into a heated discussion about spirits.

I also find the idea of them arguing via fucking Canvas (or whatever discussion forum/platform Gotham-U uses) so, so funny.

Imagine it's like 3am;

Danny, insomniac, been awake for 42 hours and popping melatonin gummies like gummy bears, furiously typing: i'm literally THE KING of infinite realms?? i know what i'm talking about, i fucking died

Tim, also been awake for 42 hours, chugging an energy drink, sending a response in 0.2 seconds: Half of Gotham has died at some point. You're not special, dumbass.

Give me "group of scientists losing their minds and climbing over the table to assault one another during scientific conference" vibes!!

And then they get paired up to do a group presentation (and Brad, who they ignore because they're both Experts, so this poor frat dude just slowly sinks into his chair between two sleep-deprived maniacs screaming at each other in the library). But Tim notices something weird about Danny, aside from his insane views on afterlife. Danny... glows? And sometimes doesn't really touch the floor when he walks. They're going to get coffee (so they can keep arguing debating, obviously, not because they enjoy each other's company or anything), and Tim watches as Danny just kind of... floats. Like, he's still walking but he's not really touching the ground.

Danny's hands are also super cold. Tim knows this because he grabbed Danny's hands once or twice (or more) to do... something, idk. But since his hands were so cold, Tim figured he should probably keep holding them; y'know, to warm them up.

And when Tim leans in to ask a question or insult him, Danny's breath comes out almost like a mist. Visibly white, like exhaling a hot breath in winter. Which... what. Holy shit, is his presentation partner actually sort of dead??

Danny, on the other hand, has no idea that Tim doesn't know. He literally said he died? And Tim took it so well, snarked back that he's not special - it was so nice to just feel normal. So he lets his guard down a bit. Maybe isn't as tangible, maybe is a bit more floaty, lets his body temperature drop enough to be comfortable. Doesn't put a whole lot of effort into making himself look so alive (because it's really tiring to pretend to be something you're not) when it's just him and Tim because Tim already knows, right?

They could be friends or they could be more! Whatever floats your boat.

But I could totally see Danny squinting at Tim holding his hand, remembering how Tim bought his favorite coffee, saved him a spot a the library, constantly texted him (because, c'mon, Tim is a bit obsessive and you don't think he'd be texting his new "friend ;)" every minute he has the chance?), and always leaned in super close to "ask a question"...and be like, are we flirting?? Oh, Hells, am I into him??

For plot reasons, Danny could be like, "I can't tell Tim I like him! What if I ruin our friendship? It'll be my secret."

And then, one day, Tim is like, "Hey, I know you're keeping something from me. I think I know what it is." And Danny's like ohshitohfuck. This cumulates into them saying, at the same time, I know you're a ghost and I have a crush on you.

Tim and Danny: *shocked Pikachu face*

Then, Danny's like, "I can't believe I have a crush on a fucking idiot."

#dpxdc #tim drake #danny fenton #danny phantom #dead tired #tim x danny

2K notes · View notes

ohmybueckers · 4 months ago

Text

mad at me - paige bueckers x reader

Summary: After a bad game, you tell Paige to take her frustrations out on you, an offer she gladly accepts

Themes/Warnings: angry sex (safe words are present), orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, etc.

Word Count: 4k

Note: i genuinely don't know what came over me guys i swear i don't just write smut lmfaooooo. anyways here's a result of me being bored and angry and also to celebrate the triple digit win today, enjoy!!

There was something you loved about the smell of rain on grass on an early February day. While the winter season in Storrs was brutal, overly long and gloomy, the way the earthy notes filled your senses as you walked home, surrounded by a thick fog, would have given you a pleasant reminder of the incoming spring on any other day. Unfortunately, this was not any other day.

There was no sugarcoating it: the Huskies had an awful game yesterday. The team could not seem to get their shots to fall, shooting only twenty percent from three and forty percent from the paint against a team that should have been a hell of a lot easier to dominate offensively. Miscommunications led to numerous turnovers and lost opportunities for shots (you lost track of how many times a player failed to spot a wide open Azzi, leading to frustration from both her and Paige). You were unable to make the game, having a massive exam the next day and not having the time to spend even a few hours not being remotely locked in. Your attempt to focus was futile as you sat in the library, headphones in and struggling to pay attention to your Quizlet set as the announcers seemed to tear into every single decision your girlfriend made on the broadcast.

Paige ended up being thankful you weren’t there in person, not wanting you to see the carnage firsthand, but it didn’t make you feel any less guilty. Paige never took a loss easy, but it seemed like this one especially got to her. After your exam you checked in once again, only for her to say they would be spending the majority of the night in the film room watching the game. Afterward, she planned on staying on the court to practice her shot, eager to not repeat the same mistakes come March.

You loved how dedicated she was, you really did. But you were starting to get really, really worried about her.

You had fully accepted that you would likely not see much of her for the next few days, allowing yourself the night to unwind after a grueling exam (you were happy to say you’re positive you passed it, as low of a bar as that is). You let your muscles relax under the steam of your shower, the eucalyptus hanging from the shower head and the lavender in your body wash clearing your mind of all your worries from this week momentarily. That is until you realized you couldn’t completely enjoy it knowing that Paige was out there, absolutely destroying herself over something that was not solely her fault. She deserves to relax too, you thought with a frown.

After spritzing your favorite scent around your room, lathering your legs in your most moisturizing lotion, and crawling into your freshly washed sheets, you were prepared for a night of finally continuing your latest pleasure read (a book that had been thrown aside the past week in favor of a biology text book). What you weren’t prepared for is the buzz emitting from your phone about twenty minutes into your self care night, right in the middle of a sexually charged scene between the two love interests. Your confusion was quickly replaced with concern when you saw that it was Paige attempting to FaceTime you.

Upon answering, you noted how sweat pooled at the top of her forehead, which was creased in frustration. Her hair was in a slicked back pony, her UConn blue practice was soaked through, and she looked pissed as she stood in the middle of the court.

“None of my fucking shots are landing,” she grumbled before you could even greet her, wiping away some of the sweat with the hand not holding the phone. “I’ve been here for the past hour after Geno let us go, and I can’t figure out where I’m going wrong.”

She appeared to be getting even more worked up as she spoke, a flush rising to her cheeks. “I’m supposed to be one of the oldest ones here, I can’t be out here making rookie ass mistakes. It’s not going to go well in March, and it’s definitely not going to go well in the W.”

It broke your heart to see this. Paige always said pressure was a privilege, but you watched in real time as the normal pressure Paige had on her shoulders evolved into something deeper, something closer to self loathing. “Paige, baby, I think you need to take a break. You can’t perform well if you’re like this.”

She shook her head no, an action you anticipated. Picking up her water bottle and spraying some in her mouth, she continued, “Nah, I gotta keep going. I just need to figure out how I can fucking focus.”

You took note of the grip on the water bottle, the command in her voice, and her determination. The idea hit you like a runaway train, tumbling through your lips before you could hesitate.

“Take it out on me.”

Paige had made half assed eye contact with the camera the entire conversation, too frustrated and ashamed to face you, but these five words brought her wide eyes to face yours. You couldn’t tell if they were filled with disbelief or intrigue - maybe both. “What?”

It’s not like you and Paige’s sex life was completely tame. She was always down to try new positions, whether it be using fingers, mouths, or toys. There have definitely been nights where her teammates have sent her a strongly worded message letting her know that their walls were not as thick as she thought. But sex between the two of you had always been passionate, loving … never angry. Until now.

You would be lying if you said you never felt some type of way watching Paige get upset at the refs, wondering what that kind of attention would look like in bed. As much as you trusted Paige, you just didn’t want to run the risk of saying anything that would alter her perception of you. But here you were, sat in bed wearing an old high school tee shirt and pajama shorts (not the sexiest outfit on the planet), and there was no way of deleting what you’ve already said. Inhaling, you continue. “You need to get your frustration out before you can shoot. I’m just saying you have an outlet.”

The gesture to your body was not lost on Paige, who looked like a deer in headlights. You were so close to ending the call, pulling your fuzzy blanket over your face and pretending none of this ever happened, when she spoke. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you to get my anger out?”

Her tone was blank, but even through the pixelated call (damn the poor signal in the practice court) you could see the switch in her - what was now a confused expression shifted to a calm kind of fire, the kind only you could recognize from her. Your stomach flipped, realizing she was just as into this idea as you were. Thank God. “I’m saying I want you to fuck me like you’re mad at me.”

She looked to the side, throwing her head slightly back and showing off her jawline. Without another word she moved to the side of the court, grabbing her bag and her keys off the ground. “Leave your door unlocked. I’m on my way,” she announced, before ending the call.

You gulped, knowing all you could do was open Find My, watch Paige slowly drive closer and closer to your apartment, and wonder what the hell you just got yourself into.

—-

Paige had learned the code to your apartment long before, having been with you exclusively for almost a year. So when she arrived at your place, with you standing waiting for her with fidgeting thumbs, it took her almost no time to set her bag down and saunter over to you, cupping your face and smashing your lips together. It could almost be described as romantic the way she was holding you, how one hand reached down to your torso to stabilize you. You couldn’t help but moan quietly as you felt her cologne mixed with her own musk waft into your senses.

But then she began stepping forward, forcing your steps with her against the fake hardwood, until your back was pressed against the wall. Paige finally pulled apart from you with a look that could only be described as pure, unrestricted hunger. All the rage towards herself, the frustration toward the previous days game, it all manifested into her gaze. One hand trailed to the side of your neck as she spoke softly, yet with strength. “Pretty girl wants to help me, huh?”

You nodded all too enthusiastically, taking pleasure in this new side of Paige: the one who was completely in control, and proud of it. She seemed to be taking pleasure in it as well, grabbing your wrist carefully and guiding the two of you to your bedroom which had been eagerly awaiting her arrival.

“I want to do this right,” she began, removing her shoes as you moved to sit on your bed with your feet dangling. “Green means keep going, yellow means pause, red means stop. The second you don’t want to do something, we stop. Got it?”

You nod, expecting nothing less than a tender check in from your girlfriend who was currently walking slowly to meet you. In some ways, you felt similar to your first time with Paige: slightly awkward, filled with unknowns. But you wanted this. God, you wanted this.

She reaches the bed, pushing you down onto the mattress you were laying in earlier in the night, this time in a far different context. Her lips are back on you, this time sucking harshly on your neck in places that are certain to switch shades tomorrow. You cannot bring yourself to care much in the moment, however, allowing yourself to be consumed by all things Paige.

Her hands move to your hips, trailing under the waist band of your shorts and quickly making a move to discard them. Her fingers touched your skin, alternating between hard grips and smooth brushes. “Take your shirt off,” she muttered, her grip tightening around your thighs as she spoke into your underwear clad cunt.

You obey her, feeling as though you had entered a trance from the way she spoke with so much authority. You know you look a little strange as you rush to get the shirt over your head, but Paige pays no mind: her eyes are busy tracing your frame, memorizing every curve, every mark, and every texture as if it was the first time. A smirk spread across her lips, her striking blue eyes somehow looking darker. “Can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”

She peppered kisses down your body, the fire in her body feeling more like worship as she made her way down your breasts, your stomach, all the way to your clothed core.

Discarding your underwear, she began one of her greatest talents off the court. You felt her flick her tongue against you, shuddering at the mix of impact as well as the air conditioning hitting your skin. Her mouth explored you, prompting sharp cries from you as you fell back against your pillows. She took a break to nip at the skin where your thigh met your core, evoking something between a yelp and a moan.

“Pussy so fucking good,” she spoke, continuing her ministrations. It was like she was fueled by your pleasure, each drop spurring her on further. Her teammates always joked about Paige being a munch - if they only knew to what extent.

She delved her tongue in further, using her hands to spread you open.

You felt a very familiar knot begin to form, one that you could always expect with your girlfriend. “So good… Gonna cum P.”

As soon as she went to work, Paige got off, leaving only the harsh breeze in her place as you laid there dumbfounded. The knot within you, once welcome, was now dulling into something tantalizing and almost painful.

You whined, “Why did you stop?”

Her laugh that followed felt downright mocking, reaching down to caress your face once more. “You didn’t think this was going to be easy, did you baby?”

You pouted, knowing you looked fucking ridiculous. “But I was so close.”

Your girlfriend shrugged, taking no concern in the way your pussy drenched your sheets or the way your nipples puffed unattended. “Get me off and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

That sentence sent you into gear immediately, motivated by the urge to cheer up your girl as well as the selfish desire to get your way after your ruined orgasm. You scanned Paige’s body, drinking up every muscle as you shoved her shorts down along with her boxers. She laid down, taking your place with raised eyebrows looking nonchalant and cocky as ever.

You took your place between her thighs, offering kitten licks to her clit as her hands reached your hair. Your mouth opened further, allowing you to eat her out with the same fervor she was earlier.

You knew her well enough to know the tell tale signs she was enjoying herself - every sharp inhale, every squeeze of her legs, every hum she made. It all meant she was closer to what she wanted, and you were closer to what you needed. You just needed to hear it.

Pulling off of her clit with a pop, you shot your best doe eyed look at your girlfriend, who once again seemed to have a pool of sweat at her forehead. “Feel good baby?”

She responded not with words, but by shoving you back onto her core roughly, prompting you to continue your work on her. You looked and sounded like a fucking pornstar, moaning into her pussy as if you were the one getting off (which wasn’t that far off). You heard her grunt above you.

“Gonna cum on your pretty face.”

If Paige is one thing, it’s a woman of her word, so it doesn’t shock you when she fulfills her promise moments later. Her cum drips down your lips moments later, and you lap it all up. You live for this shit, watching Paige stare at you in amazement as she surrenders to your touch. The fire within the blonde settles, save for her continued labored breathing as evident by the rise and fall in her chest. She looks at you, her stare downright dangerous.

“Want me to make you cum, pretty girl?” From the way she said it, you knew she wasn’t asking.

You switched places once more, allowing her middle finger to slot itself in your pussy with the same vigor with which it once grabbed your head. She was pounding you, fingers focused on penetrating areas only she seemed to touch in the right way while her mouth payed ample attention to your clit.

You felt your legs jerk, eyes welling up. The familiar sensations of pleasure came back to you even quicker, flooding through you like Malibu waters. You were falling in so deep, your mind swimming in everything she was giving you.

Your legs gripped Paige’s head, an action that felt like muscle memory at this point. You didn’t even need to say it - she knew what this meant. And it meant she stopped once more, wiping her mouth and looking at you with a mischievous grin. You were just around ready to scream, gripping the pillow beside you.

“I did what you wanted, baby, please.” You whimpered, looking downright helpless at this point. “Please let me cum.”

You were so eager, and this was all so unfair. And yet you took it all, knowing that this was exactly what you asked for.

Paige raised an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times before nodding. “You wanna cum? You got it.”

She returns to your clit for the third time that night, gripping your hips as if you were planning on going anywhere but here, as if you were capable of not being consumed by her as she sucked. If eating pussy was an award winning sport, it would be yet another award on Paige’s already impressive roster. If there was one thing she loved doing more with her mouth than talking, it was making her girl feel good.

If you weren’t so focused on the way she was making you feel, you would maybe be a little more embarrassed about the noises you were making, how the pleas of “more” and “harder” emitted from you so easily. Paige had that effect on you, especially tonight when she was pulling out all the stops.

You nearly cried with relief when your breath quickened and muscles tightened and Paige didn’t fucking move, continuing to circle your clit with her finger while lapping you up like she was parched. Finally, waves crashed over you as you came with a shout of her name and a gush of fluid being deposited straight into her mouth, which she accepted happily. You rode out the feeling, Paige assisting with her reassurance. “Lemme hear you baby, fuck.” She moaned into you, a move that was teetering into the overstimulating category.

Little did you know that was just a taste of what was to come.

Taking time to lick up all the remaining cum from your pussy, she kissed up your body, finding herself at your awaiting lips once more. You sigh as you taste yourself, melting into the warmth of your girlfriend who just rocked your world. Based on the way she showed up to your apartment, you were certainly expecting more fire from her, but you were glad to end the night with a pleasant ache between your thighs.

You grin into the kiss, reaching up her shirt in order to get more contact only for her hands to grab your wrists, throwing them next to your head against the pillows before you could even process what she was doing. You take the time to look at her, really look at her, and see that the same tone is in her eyes, and that her fire hasn’t been contained. In fact, she looks ready to pounce. “I know you can give me another, right baby?”

Multiple orgasms in one night were not an anomaly for you and Paige, but typically there was time in between - the additional sessions usually happened after an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, or during a shower. You gulped, only able to nod as Paige trailed her hand back down to your spent pussy, cupping it before slipping a finger inside.

It was not lost on Paige the way your eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, pain mixing with pleasure as she began moving. “Can’t take it baby?” She asked like it was a challenge. She was unsurprised when you shook your head no, determined to accept everything she was giving you. “That’s what I thought. Such a slut for me. Good fucking girl.”

A proud smile graced her face as she took note of the sopping sound of your pussy as she fucked you, the way your mouth couldn’t hold back moans and pleas for more, and it hit you: she was scoring, making up for her mistakes from yesterday through you. It only made the heat on your core worse, blurring your vision until everything felt hazy.

You could tell she was loving this shit, eating up how you were reacting to her. One hand trailed up, reaching for your tit and massaging it roughly. “Gonna let me do what I want to you, isn’t that right baby?”

You moaned as she spoke, relishing in the way that she was fully getting comfortable dominating you like this, fucking you like a dirty whore instead of her beloved girlfriend. She stretched you out so good, leaving no room for anything except her.

You felt the build up again, static rising in your body as you attempted to focus on your breathing. This effort would prove to be futile, as Paige knew you all too well. Her movements intensified, her breath growing heavy against your ear as she growled, “Who’s making you feel this good?”

You all but sob, “Y-you, P, fuck.”

She smiles, loving the way you sound as your pussy clenches around her with a fucking grip that anyone would die for. She was so fucking lucky. “Wanna feel this pussy cum around me, c’mon.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, your body shuddering as you released once again hitting your high like a drug as your back arched into her touch.Your cunt pulsed around Paige, causing a guttural moan to erupt from her lips as you rained down on her fingers.

She stared in wonder as she removed them once the majority of your high subsided, noting how they glistened under your lights. “Can do this all night. Pussy so fucking good.”

As much as you attempted to enjoy the remnants of your orgasm, the statement brought a wave of panic through you as you processed that you may not be done just yet. “Two’s enough, P,” you said, nuzzling your face in her neck.

Big mistake.

She jolted her head up, look at you intently. “What’s your color, baby?”

You paused, recognizing your mistake and the ache between your thighs. But there is nothing more that you wanted than to fulfill your promise to Paige, and you couldn’t deny the way heat rose to your face when you saw just how fine Paige looked when she was this focused on you. “Green.”

Paige grinned. “Then shut the fuck up.”

She flipped the two of you, hoisting you so her muscular thigh was pressed just at the right angle to give your spent clit undivided attention. A loud slap went to your ass, jolting you forward slightly and providing the first dose of stimulation as you rode her thigh in the process. “Paige, baby.”

She sat up quickly, pushing your body against hers as she helped you ride. She nibbled at your ear, whispering a series of sweet nothings as her firm grip on your ass never faltered.

“Ride me just like that.”

“I know you can go faster than that, c’mon.”

“Moaning for me like a fucking slut.”

Your memory beyond this point was a little faulty, coming and going in bursts. One second, you knew you were riding Paige like a mechanical bull, putting all of your (very little) remaining energy into giving her the best show you could, knowing that this is what she deserved. After a flash of white, moans and voices muffled, you awoke still sat on top of Paige. She rubbed your back, shushing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You’re done, baby, it’s okay. Did so so good for me, my perfect girl.”

—————

“Didn’t go too hard on you, right?”

You turned to face Paige, who was laying next to you in your bed. The past forty five minutes had been devoted strictly to aftercare, with Paige refusing to let you lift a finger. She helped you take yet another shower, lathering your body for you and kissing your shoulders as she hugged you from behind. She stripped and replaced your sheets, running yet another load. And now the two of you laid there, glasses of water nearby, and Paige was looking at you with both curiosity and fear.

You grabbed her hand from the arm that was currently wrapped around your shoulder. “I would have told you baby, trust me.” You offered her hand a kiss, sparking a smile on the blonde’s lips. “Do you feel any better?”

She nodded, leaning her forehead against yours. “Just needed to clear my head. The pressure just- it’s a lot sometimes.” You nodded, understanding how overwhelmed she got with the eyes on her at all times. A shy blush reached her cheeks as she debated speaking again, before deciding in favor. “I also thought tonight was hot. Like, really hot.”

You laughed, her quickly following. Sure, you couldn’t fix all of Paige’s problems with sex. But it certainly couldn’t hurt to try.

#paige bueckers #uconn women’s basketball #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers smut #wlw smut

972 notes · View notes

understrangeforbiddenskies · 20 days ago

Text

i need your love so bad

abby anderson x fem reader

↣ took a little scroll through the abby tag and noticed almost no fluff so i'm filling that void with girlfriend!abby headcanons hehe

*+:｡.｡ warnings / kissing, established relationship, very self indulgent oops, ow*n

𝄞 need your love so bad - fleetwood mac

author's note: this is my first tlou fic pls dont kill me if it sucks

+ you were definitely the first girl abby ever dated. the only other experience with dating she had was ow*n... so you obviously had to swoop in and show her what she was missing out on.

+ i know deep in my heart and soul that abby would hold your face when she kisses you. not your waist, or your neck, or your back. no. she would genty cradle your face, studying your features before leaning in and pressing her soft lips against yours.

+ she gives the BEST bear hugs ever, especially after a long patrol. she'll sneak into your room and just collapse against you, one arm wrapped tightly around your middle while the other cradled your head.

+ it's literally canon that abby smells of pine and every time i remember that all i can think of is cuddling with her after she showers while you both ramble to each other about anything and everything.

+ you read to each other!!! as a huge bookworm, i love the idea of just cozying up with abby in the library as she reads to you and vice versa. sometimes you'll both end up falling asleep halfway through a chapter only for manny to find you both way later.

+ adding onto that, you'd find literally any excuse to listen to her voice. whether that would be asking her questions about patrol, books, working out, etc. she's too oblivious to realise you aren't even paying attention half the time.

+ she would remember even the littlest of things about you. it can range from your favourite book to the colour of your socks on monday. she has an insanely good memory but only when it comes to you.

+ unpopular opinion but i don't think abby would work out with you. hear me out on this; i think she would prefer to have some alone time and what other place to do that than the gym! it's nothing against you, it's just that she likes to focus on working out.

+ if you offered to braid her hair when you just started dating, i think she would say no but at least let you brush it. however, once you two were together for a good while, it felt like second nature to come up to you, hairbrush in hand, with a knowing smile on her face.

+ you would play with her hair any chance you could. sometimes she would fall asleep with her head in your lap and you'd slowly untangle the braid she had in, raking your fingers through her hair as a way to soothe yourself.

+ the way abby looks at you makes you swoon every. damn. time. it could be during patrol, when you read to her, or even when you're eating. she looks at you with so much love. every time you catch her eyes you feel butterflies in your stomach.

+ i think abby would be very comfortable saying 'i love you'. she would prefer to say how she feels rather than show you. it's important you hear the words so they can be engraved in your mind.

+ abby is scary. she has huge muscles, she's one of the best soldiers, and people who go on patrol with her know what she is capable of. it's only natural that people started treating you with more respect when you two got together.

+ if she heard anyone talking badly about you or gossipping she would shut it down immediately. there's literally a part of the game where she goes around humbling the fuck out of people for talking about ow*n. so yes, best believe she's doing that for you too.

bonus:

+ i LUV the wlf!nurse x abby anderson fics so here's something about that; she would spot the smallest cut on her arm after patrol and her first instinct would be to see you. you'd laugh at how silly it was while you cleaned the wound, not realising abby was only here to see you.

#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖☁️ understrangeforbiddenskies #im back in my abby phase tbh #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson headcanons #tlou

730 notes · View notes

goingdownondaisuke · 5 months ago

Note

Girrrrl pls write more mouth washing headcannons like you just did 🙏🙏 truly you are a good writer and I enjoy your posts (I saw your intro and happy belated birthday!!)

thank you so much anonny!! so sweet :) i honestly love you for this request bc that means i can ramble on and on and be super unserious 👅 i'll section this off into two, nsfw and sfw!! (adding the read more link bc this is long!)

(reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns)

୨⎯ sfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

strikes me heavily as the "stay at home and rot" typa gal

and she's so real for that!!!

dates w her would definitely consist of little picnics, sitting by the lake and having deep talks, stargazing, pottery, library dates, all that good stuff >0<

she's totally slavic

i can't exactly put my finger on it but she gives russian/polish

will def give you nicknames in her one of those! (im not listing any bc im gonna be so embarrassed if i butcher my own language 😭)

if you're good at it, she loves when you braid her hair or do it up in fancy styles, she'll wear it for literally the rest of the day

LOVES seeing you all dressed up

like if you have a job that requires you to dress formally, and you walk out that bathroom with a dress shirt and slacks on??? ur gonna be a little late for work

she makes GREAT pasta dishes

vodka pasta, shrimp/chicken alfredo, mac n cheese, lasagna, gnocchi, YUMM

likes baking as well, but isnt very good

the most impressive thing she's ever made was chocolate chunk cookies that had literal pockets of gooey chocolate

can you tell im hungry

she's toned asl

loves the gym!

i feel like she dresses modestly for the most part in public but at home she'll wear crop tops and teeny shorts

definitely the type of person to give great advice but never use it

likes your voice, will say whatever to get you to talk (even better if you're someone who just talks and talks and talks) (me)

very comforting to talk to

WOULD NEVER JUDGE YOU OMG

you almost ran someone over? we've all been there!!

you actually ran someone over? why were they jaywalking??!

they died on the spot? ...get the boat.

i feel like she displays all of the love languages

but her main one would be words of affection i think

calls you love, dear, darling, all that sappy mush

wife!!!!!

curly ۶ৎ

ever since i've read what the devs said abt him liking snow sports i genuinely cannot stop imagining this guy skiing or snowboarding w you LMAO

but besides his love for that, he likes summery sports as well!!

like surfing, volleyball, badminton, tennis, golf, etc

dont take this in a weird way but i rlly just see him as the sugar daddy type

like yes he's your significant other BUT he's a good-looking man who looks a bit older, so if you look a lot younger than him then yeah ppl are gonna raise an eyebrow

but they have the right to bc every time you two go out he buys you something expensiveee

showers you in jewelery

he loves the beach!! (same)

definitely the type to massage sunscreen on you EWWWW (im kicking my feet)

he likes to give you massages in general, those strong ass hands be at WORK!!!!

my friend said he looks german and i can't get it out my mind, pls gimme opinions bc i totally agree 😭

sosososo nice and friendly and caring

loves taking you out on cruises, swanky resorts, michelin-star restaurants, the works

and if you like to workout he takes you on gym dates

my favourite

sometimes when he doesn't feel like going he'll just use you as a weight lol

likes randomly lifting you up

loves to listen to you ramble while he's cooking

good at cooking!!

calls you darling, princess, baby, beautiful

gentleman!!!

daisuke ۶ৎ

dream gen z bf

has a skincare routine he does with you every night

and if you arent there with him in person he'll facetime/video call you so he can "make sure you're doing all the right steps"

(he just wants to admire your LETHAL face card)

pothead >0<

this man takes you on dates GALORE

the arcade, thrifting, the mall, walmart (if they in walmart together they fucking RAW /ref), go karts, amusement parks, the beach, more i can't think of

likes when you do his makeup/give him a full glam makeover, it's so fun to him

lots of piercings

you HAVE to have a good relationship with his parents (saw this somewhere on ao3!)

has HUNDREDS of pictures of you in his gallery

has pics of you sleeping, cooking, walking, eating, watching tv, doing work, drinking, just existing

the type of mf to take like a thousand pictures of himself if you leave your phone around him

his love language is 100% physical touch and sending sappy ass tiktoks/instagram reels/everything else

LIVES ON SOCIAL MEDIA

he totally has like a fashion acct and it's just him trying on clothes and giving reviews

he has an impressive following!!

omg speaking of fashion, THIS MAN.

he's not like wisdom kaye level (one of his biggest inspos) but he can DRESSS

he'd totally judge you for wearing like socks and sandals or something utterly unacceptable

"girl. take those ripped skinny jeans OFF."

kinda like swansea is, i can see him being a sneakerhead (no i am not projecting)

calls you babe, dude, pretty girl if he's feeling freaky

jimmy ۶ৎ

he's such a pos i need him so fucking bad

he tries to clean up for you

shaves more, wears cheap cologne, tries to keep his home as clean as possible (which...isn't very clean)

is EXTREMELY dependent on you, esp if you're well off

loves getting high with you

off of VARIOUS substances 😭

mostly powder or acid but you two will shoot up from time to time

you've bailed him out of jail several times

committing crime dates!!! like

oh and yk eating out (at mcdonalds off the dollar menu), road trips (in his rusty ass truck), facetime/videocalls (his phone is so fucked up, his internet is horrible, and his camera quality is disgusting) whatever

hes so pathetic but he loves you so so so much

even if he doesn't display it like a normal person

his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation

because that's all he can afford

very jealous, the two of you got into an argument once bc he thought you were looking at curly

tries to keep him away from you as much as possible

dont hate me for this but he definitely abuses his partners

psychologically, physical, verbally, sexually

but i dont care we love you jimmy!!

tbh most of the headcanons i have for him are nsfw, hence why this list is so short

im sorry!!!

swansea ۶ৎ

now THIS is a sugar daddy

(he's not technically bc you don't use him for money) (you better not.)

anyway!!!

he absolutely LOVES to take you out on fancy dates

likes travelling!!!

i can see him being a big fan of italy, germany, thailand, the bahamas

(psa: guys once before you die you HAVE to go to the bahamas omg its so freaking lovely and the locals are very very sweet :) )

oh he definitely enjoys a leisurely game of golf

he's such a sweetheart like he'll make you breakfast in bed and cook you a romantic candle-lit dinner and give you back massages and urghh

gives THE most insightful advice

actually super smart, will help you with any college work you have

his strong suits are math and science!

very good at cooking, devs themselves said he makes a mean paella!

i can see him being rlly good at cooking cultural food

like dont let this man make butter chicken or pad thai 👅 it will be GONE.

he admires you very often! you're so beautiful!! yes you!!!

he really likes it when you cuddle him

like aww imagine he's just watching something on his macbook and then here you come curling up next to him

AWWW I LOVE HIM

he's not super affectionate himself but if he notices it makes you happy then he'll try to show you that he loves you more physically

his love language is gift giving/quality time

having long talks with you is a must, especially when you are tuckered and all snuggled in your bed, and the tv's on but you aren't paying attention to the plotless show because you're too focused on listening to each others life stories, revealing little bits of lessons you've learned and why the way you are

ily swansea

୨⎯ nsfw ⎯ ୧

anya ۶ৎ

very gentle

unless she's like super into it then she'll start gripping your thighs or tonguing you down more intensely

she def watches porn when you aren't around and imagines the actors are you and her

but only the amateur lesbian type. that produced shit makes her cringe and uncomfortable

lots of toys!!1!=1

has the softest cutest moans

isn't particularly loud in bed, the loudest you'll get from her is a long, shaky whimper

loves giving head!!!

she literally has a fucking waterpark like she gets SO wet

not the easiest to turn on, which is why sex is uber intimate and precious to and with her

she's very sensitive and he orgasms are intense

also doesn't have the best stamina, will go literally two rounds before she's knocked tf out

PILLOW TALK

ughh she can't keep her lips off of you

even when you two aren't making love she's always kissing you somewhere

do NOT let her get a hold of a strap-on.

her stroke game is so freaking good like where does she get the experience??!

she likes your tits, her hands are always on them even in non-sexual situations

no matter their shape and size, she thinks they were sculpted by the gods

she thinks you were sculpted by the gods!!!

if you're super loud in bed then you're in luck bc she can't get enough!! she cant!!

she only initiates if you two are laying down, she'll wrap her arm around you and kiss your jaw

then she'll ask "is this okay?"

HELL YEA

curly ۶ৎ

oh man

he's 100% the type to put you in the most absurd positions

one i think about him doing all the time is like he'll be standing and he'll be drilling into you while you're UPSIDE DOWN

he's such a gentle giant, if you like it rough you'll have to beg him to stop being so nice

makes the hottest noises when you give him head

aughh he'd totally shut his eyes and keep a hand tangled in your hair and curse under his breath and buck his hips

when he initiates, it's always by lovingly running his big hands up and down your waist and pressing tender kisses to your neck while he whispers "i love you" and "so beautiful" in your ear

ooh that'll do it!!

you trying to initiate though? literally just kiss his neck and all of a sudden you're on your back

you call him "grant" when things start to get hot

like imagine moaning "curly"

doesnt watch any porn whatsoever

if he's horny and alone he'll just pleasure himself thinking about you

very very romantic, don't let this man find out it's valentine's day or your birthday or ANY holiday for that matter

like yk those tiktoks where someone is showing off a hotel room that their spouse decorated all romantically for their birthday, and then it cuts to the morning after and everything is all messed up after a few rounds?

YEAH THATS CURLY

for the love of god PLEASE SIT ON HIS FACE

likes risky/public sex

definitely part of the mile high club

loves fucking you in the kitchen

he seems like the type to grope you

but in a 'husbandly' way

like before he leaves for work he'll kiss you and smack your rear

or while you're cooking dinner he'll just squeeze your tits/ass

he loves ur ass!! i see him as an ass man

LMAO ASS MAN

good stamina, can go a FEW rounds

he will ALWAYS let you come first. no exceptions except for when you're sucking him off

he's so fucking good at giving head it's genuinely unbelievable

he likes his nipples played with

guys i NEED you to hear me out on this, he'd eat your ass/he likes anal

BUT LIKE ONLY IF YOU WANTED

but c'monnn don't tell me he wouldn't spit on it and get it real wet before slipping it in

daisuke ۶ৎ

THE freak of mouthwashing

canonically he's always horny lol

other ppl say he'd be a virgin but i cant see it 😭 he been to all those parties and he looks that good, are you sure he didn't get him some?!

watched a shit ton of porn before you two got together

and lemme tell you

HE DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE

big ass, petite, goth, ebony, asian, latina, blonde, brunette, bbw, interracial, WHATEVER.

enough of that

he's soooo noisy and sensitive like it doesn't make ANY sense

ESPECIALLY from head like he'll be gripping the bed/couch and moaning like a girl into the air and his thighs will be twitching and-

loves to edge himself

like if you're sucking him off and he's close, he'll tug your head off of him and take a breather before letting you do your thing again

LOVES recording you

literally i can see him downloading snapchat for the sole purpose of the 'my eyes only' feature

he's absolutely down for anything you wanna do

he would let you peg him tbh

gives super sloppy head

like it's not bad but he's just so eager and excited to please you that he gets kinda carried away

his tongue piercing feels so good

he noticed how much you loved it so he bought a vibrating one

literally wants sex like everyday and his stamina is insane

GENUINELY he can go all night

worships tf outta you

he is so obsessed w you and loves you so much like pls ride his face

dry humping is a lost art and he is bringing it BACK

he's like a fucking dog he's so noisy and messy and sloppy and horny and ugh

i love him so much he's literally me

jimmy ۶ৎ

extremely rough

like hardcore shit

he will actually choke you until you pass out and then fuck your unconscious body

same with whenever you go down on him, he hold you there until he feels your body go limp and then fuck your face

he loves getting head so fucking much

he has lots of...philias

i REFUSE to name any of them pls

intense groper

complete disregards the idea of consent

he's gonna take what he wants, whenever he wants it

and im okay w that!! 😻

wakes you up with head every morning

has a super high sex drive

the littlest, stupidest things turn him on

you spilled water on yourself? he's hard. you burnt your hand from super hot tap water and yelped? he's hard. he sees you cry? he's hard.

his stroke game is actually insane

if his goal was to make you finish (it's typically not) he'd succeed in a very short amount of time

he likes anal and he doesn't care if you like it either

ugh he doesn't even lube you up correctly

he just spits on it and goes on

he loves when you mark him up

leaves insane hickeys like that mf will look like you got SOCKED

he totally bites...just look at him

has sickkkk fantasies and expects you to mold yourself to all of them

likes torturing you for no reason whatsoever

he has a bunch of whips and paddles

something i always imagine him doing is coming home from a long day of work, pulling down his pants the minute that he sees you, and just going at it

swansea ۶ৎ

he would spank you

just to get that out the way

like if you're pissing him off he'll tell you to bend over his lap and he'll strike your ass until it's flushed red and tears are streaming down your face

but it's okay because then he'll kiss you all over and fuck you oh so nicely after

he's kind of but not really the brat tamer type

ehhh

as i said before: pussy slapping, face slapping, clit pinching GALORE >0<

kinda mean

like a mixture of praise and degradation

he likes when you spread your legs wide for him

sex drive is not high whatsoever

i mean he's like 50

neither is his stamina 😣 but he gives it to you super good

he usually just lets you ride his thigh or has a snack between your legs

he's so good at fingering

like imagine just sitting on his lap writhing around while two thick fingers are plunging into you and two more are rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit

loves kissing you during the act, he knows it makes you feel good

loveeess seeing you squirt/cream

he loves your moans as well, they're so cute to him and they're letting him know that he's doing a good job pleasuring his baby

he honestly believes that his job as your partner is to please you as much as possible

and he does that

girthy as FUCK

doesn't make a lot of noise

but when he's close he'll grunt quite a bit

another position i imagine he likes is one where you're lying on your side and your leg is in the air, and he has a grip on it while he fucks the shit outta you ahhh

after the deed you two will lay down and simply make out while his hands roam your body

that's how it starts sometimes too!!!

#mouthwashing #anya x reader #curly x reader #daisuke x reader #jimmy x reader #swansea x reader #anya smut #curly smut #daisuke smut #jimmy smut #swansea smut #i love exclamation points!!!#goingdownondaisuke ۶ৎ

625 notes · View notes

carllgrimesgf · 7 months ago

Text

Enemies? Yeah Right.

PAIRING: Carl Grimes x Fem Reader

Genre: smut

WARNING: MDNI! 18+, making out, cursing, choking, pnv, public?, a bit of thigh riding, hair pulling, nicknames (be warned), cry kink, SMUT, etc.

Summary: You and Carl got into another fight like always but this time he couldn’t stop what he was doing when he saw you hanging out with Ron.

Note: there no outbreaks here btw I think most of the stories that I’m gonna post here is “no outbreak” and if there anything I miss lmk!

You really don’t know how you got here on your knee’s sucking carl off. One minute you talking to Ron at the library picking comic’s for your next read then the second you’re being dragged by a very angry Carl. Right now the both of you are in a section between two book cases full of books choking on his dick. Anyone who would pass by you both would be traumatized for the rest of their life

“Yeah, just like that baby fuck.” Carl muttered closing his eye and throwing his head back holding your hair in a ponytail. Pushing you’re head further down his thick length making you gagged, you moan loving the feeling of his tip hitting down your throat it hurts like hell making your eye’s watery but you still love it

“Shh, it’s okay baby you’re doing good just a little longer”

Whining your hands go down to your clit playing with it ignoring how slippery it is. You thank to yourself in the head for wearing a skirt after all it was hot. Taking your hands away you put them on his thighs “No don’t that. Take your fucking hands off.” He ordered making you take your hands off of his thighs, tearing falling down your face. Seeing you cry made him lose it

“Shit, shit, I’m close. Oh fuck.” He said grunting as he fill your mouth full of his cum. Pulling your head off of him. He grabs your jaw in a firm but gentle hold “Open.” He ordered again making you open your mouth seeing it empty as you swallowed his cum

“Good girl.”

He roughly grab your arm pushing your body against the bookshelf facing him. Grabbing your throat, choking you lightly before bringing you into a rough kiss making you whine. You press your thigh together trying to get rid of your throbbing cunt wanting attention, but as always Carl always one step ahead knowing what you want still kissing you roughly

He pulls you lace panties to the side slipping his cock in between your thigh not putting it in your pussy and grinds between them making you whimper. He groans loving the feeling of your wetness on his cock. Oh, how much he love this. he dream of this ever since he got that one dream of you riding him feeling how tight you where making him go faster. His tip would sometimes slip in your tight hole making you gasp

And he doesn’t forget he is still mad about seeing you close with Ron earlier.

Pulling away from the kiss and from you he faces you towards the bookshelf your back facing him. Moving your hips back wanting to feel him but only to reserve your hair being pulled back making your head look up to the ceiling before you can speak he slipped his cock in you, making you gasp in pain due to his thickness but also in pleasure. your eyes rolling back feeling him moving

He didn’t give you time to adjust to his size as he began moving in and out of you rough and fast. Hearing the skin slapping together made him even more harder going faster than ever not caring if someone hears or sees them fucking his little slut out. Letting moans and whimpers out feeling the tip of his cock hit your g-spot

“Who’s cock better mine or his huh?”

“Y-yours”

“Who’s?”

Yelping as he pulls your hair back making your back arch “Yours, Yours!” You said your body shaking in pleasure as he keeps going in and out. Letting out a ‘mhm’ he begin sucking on your neck marking you as his. He want to let everyone know your his that you’re his only and no one’s. Not Ron, or fucking asher who he caught you talking too making him feel jealous. Moving his head away from your neck, panting in your ear her let’s go of your hair moving his hand down to your clit rubbing and pinching it. He moans feeling you squeeze him

“You gonna cum slut?”

“Mhm, mhm”

“Cum. cum all over my cock milk it with your cream”

You squeezing him so tight, you cum covering his cock him following after you he spilled his cum inside of you not caring if you get pregnant. after all, he wants you to be his

Pulling out with a hiss he hold’s you making sure you don’t fall. Looking down at your legs shaking he smirk at what he created before planting a small kiss on your forehead. After sometime he lets you go pulling his boxers and pants up fixing himself and then fixing you

He hug you feeling bad for going rough on you “you’re mine okay?” He said softly against your hair “But we are enemies..” you told him your mind a bit foggy. Carl chuckles “I don’t care. You’re mine now princess.” Kissing you softly and gently

Tags: @carlgrimesgfofficial @shadowybasementmiracle

Note: I’m still sick it’s been like 3 days I think. And by the end of this short story I actually throw up due to dizziness so this might be my last story until I get better maybe?. But here this! If there any mistakes lol pls!

#carl grimes #the walking dead #chandler riggs #carl x reader #carl grimes x oc #amc the walking dead #carl grimes smut

529 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 8 months ago

Text

With Every Breath

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: When the unthinkable happens, Marcus is there, and he'll protect you and keep you safe with his very last breath.

Author's Note: The new trailer gave me some more ideas so I wanted to do something where Marcus has to come to your rescue and kick ass. I know it appears to be the exact opposite from what we've seen, but everyone is friends here in this little world- Lucius, Marcus etc haha because that means no one has to die! YAY! LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft sweetness and fluff, mentions of blood and violence because Marcus has to take care of things, soft fluffersmut, lots of love and romance bc we love our soft Marcus

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

“General Acacius.”

His dark eyes stay fixed on the far corner of the room and he’s oblivious to the call of his name.

“General,” Macrinus repeats with a grin.

It takes him a moment before he can speak and with a sigh, Marcus turns and stares pointedly at Macrinus.

“The emperor wishes to speak with you,” Macrinus informs him. “And you know how he loves to be kept waiting.”

At the wry comment Marcus’ lips tilt upwards. “I shall see to my stunning wife first.”

“Of course,” Macrinus answers, following Marcus’ line of sight as he turns his gaze back to you.

He moves silently across the stone floor, his eyes drinking in every soft curve of your body and his hands twitching with the need to touch you.

Stepping behind you, he taps you on your bare shoulder, grazing his fingertip down along your arm. You’re soft and smooth, and he loves the way goose bumps spread along your skin.

“General,” you purr as you press yourself against his side, flattening your palm to his chest.

“You look magnificent,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. “The stars will be jealous of you tonight.”

You meet his eyes, the lines around them soft, and brush your fingers through his beard.

“Always the romantic,” you whisper. “If you weren’t holding me up I might swoon.”

He smiles widely at your teasing and reaches for your hand, lifting your knuckles to his lips and kissing each softly before he asks, “dance with me?”

Placing his hand at the small of your back, he guides you to a dimly lit corner and pulls your body flush to his. You move slowly, lost in the feel of him so warm and close. His hands wander as much as is acceptable under the eyes of your current company, but as the moments pass you can sense his reserve slipping.

“Meet me by the library,” he whispers.

“Marcus,” you admonish softly. “We cannot leave.”

“You know the spot,” he says and then kisses the corner of your mouth, bowing in thanks for the dance.

The sound of conversation fades as he steps out of the crowded space into the grand hallway. He moves slowly toward the library, nodding to the occasional servant that rushes by him.

He waits, feeling as if every sound he makes echoes out into the hallway, his footfalls slapping along the stone as he pretends to peruse the books.

Too long after he left you, the sound of soft and swishing fabric builds, and he watches the shape of you appear at the entrance. You cross the room, eyes on his as you slowly close the distance between you.

You pause with just inches left separating you and with no hesitation grab his shoulders and pull him to your lips.

The move makes him moan, eyes fluttering closed as you open your mouth to him and tilt your head. One hand grips your breast and the other digs into your hip. He walks you backward, tugging at your dressings.

Your pulse beats wildly in your throat and he kisses the spot, sucking on your skin until you’re arching against him with plea of his name.

His hand slips under the draped material of your dress, calloused skin rough along your delicate inner thigh and just before he reaches he reaches the spot you need him most you hear the frantic calls of one of the servants.

“I swear to…” Marcus starts, and you cover his lips with your finger.

“General Acacius,” the servant calls again, this time his voice closer, louder.

You hold Marcus’ gaze, and his fingers dig into your thigh, his restraint hanging on by a thread.

Finally, and with a pained expression, he removes his hand and carefully fixes your dress. When he steps back the servant appears at the entrance, his eyes searching the darkness.

“General,” he says in a rushed breath, “I apologize, but this is urgent.”

The young man looks away from Marcus’ intense stare and you take your husbands face in your hands and bring his eyes back to you.

“Go. I will be waiting for you when you return.”

His jaw is tight and his teeth grind. “Tonight.” I will have you, my wife. Over and over again.”

He seals the whispered promise with a kiss, lips lingering until he can dally no longer, and he stalks off toward the grand hall.

His words with the emperor drag on and he quickly grows more impatient. But when the emperor starts motioning to the map sprawled out on the table, one of his advisors rushes into the room unannounced.

All eyes turn to the newcomer, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

“General Acacius,” the man says. “Please. Come with me.”

Marcus does nothing to hide his dissatisfaction and takes a menacing step closer to the advisor.

“Whatever it is, I will see to it tomorrow. I am already late to meet my wife.”

At the mention of you the advisor swallows hard and the slight tremble to his hands is hard to miss.

Marcus’ frown deepens and his body goes taut.

“SPEAK!” Marcus shouts.

“Lucius. He asks you to come at once,” the man squeaks.

The double doors swing open simultaneously and with a heavy bang as Marcus barrels through them, his frantic eyes searching the room for Lucius.

“They took her,” Lucius states from just beyond the door.

Marcus nearly crumples to his knees as the words register.

“How? When?” Marcus chokes out.

“I do not know,” Lucius says quietly. “But I was informed by one of ours that she went shortly after she returned to the banquet.”

“I’m going to kill every last one of them,” Marcus growls out.

“You and I both General,” Lucius agrees.

Marcus draws the dark hood over his head and secures his sword at his side.

“We move quietly and quickly,” he says to Lucius. “I will see that she is safe before all else.”

Lucius nods his understanding and falls into step next to Marcus as their silent feet carry them down the dark corridor.

The sound of laughter and snickering grows louder as the two men creep further into the shadows but when your raspy and defiant shouts take over Marcus tenses and quickens his pace.

Lucius lays a strong hand on Marcus’ arm.

“Do not rush into this without your head General. You know what the rebels are capable of.”

For a brief moment, Lucius sees a flash of vulnerability that is masked by Marcus’ stoic and determined expression.

“She is strong. She is smart. You know she expects you to come for her.”

Lucius’ words are a brief balm to the fire of rage burning in Marcus’ heart and he takes a calming breath.

“Get her to safety and you can paint the walls with their blood.”

“I will revel in it,” Marcus replies.

A small fire glows in the center of the stone room and six men sit around it, their shoulders relaxed and their faces flush from warmth.

Marcus sees you slumped against the far wall, your skin bruised and bloodied and your clothing torn.

His chest heaves with his barely controlled and ragged breathing and his knuckles turn white from the grip he has on his sword.

“They will go for her. They will kill her without mercy,” Lucius warns.

Marcus’ lip curls and he bares his teeth.

“They will not lay another hand on her before I have their heads.”

With a silent exchange Marcus and Lucius split apart and stealthily advance on the unsuspecting group.

Their shadows grow tall against the stone and before the rebel men can react, Lucius and Marcus are upon them.

The fire is snuffed out and heavy footfalls echo before the sound of clashing swords and screams fill the air.

You lay yourself down low to the ground, out of the way of swinging swords and stabbing knives. You hear Marcus’ voice boom over the chaos, and you hold onto it, waiting.

A strong and familiar hand wraps gently around your arm and you are lifted to your feet.

“Marcus,” you whisper.

“Beloved,” he says, nearly choking on the words. “Can you walk?”

The sound of battle still surrounds you and you cling to Marcus, answering him with a soft, “yes.”

Lucius appears at your side and grabs you around the waist. “Come,” he says delicately. “I will lead you to safety.”

“Marcus,” you call out, not wanting to leave him.

“Go,” he says, “I will find you soon.”

As Lucius leads you toward the exit he grabs a torch from the wall and lights it with the embers left from the fire. The room illuminates and you get a glimpse of the five bodies that lie bleeding their life onto the stone.

A sixth, however, still moves and you watch Marcus advance.

“Come,” Lucius urges again but you struggle and keep your eyes on Marcus.

“You do not need to see this,” Lucius whispers.

With reluctance you lean against Lucius’ side and walk with him.

The last man, the leader of the rebel group, stands hunched over against the wall, his arm cradled along his side where he bleeds from a wound.

“I will make sure to draw out your death. Slow and painful,” Marcus hisses. “How dare you lay a finger on what is mine.”

The man’s lips curl back in a snarl, and he smiles with bloodied teeth. “I would have laid much more than a finger on her if I had the chance.”

The words barely leave the man’s mouth before Marcus’ hidden knife plunges into his thigh. The man screams out in agony and falls to his knees.

“I will remind you with every drop of blood that seeps from your pitiful body that you will never again have the honor to even look upon her beauty, let alone touch her.”

The further you move from Marcus, the louder the cries of pain from the rebel become and you finally allow your body to relax. Your brain fogs and you start to fade from consciousness, slumping against Lucius’ strong hold.

“Where is she?” Marcus roars. “Where is my wife?”

Lucius knows the anger is not directed at him and he meets Marcus toe to toe in the middle of the room. Marcus has stripped himself of most of his armor, but the blood of his enemies still paints his skin.

“She is here. She is safe General.”

Although they’re the words he wants to hear, Marcus’ body still thrums with unbridled fury.

“I want everyone out. Now!”

Lucius nods and motions to the young ladies that have been tending to you. They bow and Marcus thanks them with a tilt of his head but before Lucius can step out Marcus grabs his shoulder with a firm hold.

“You have my eternal gratitude,” Marcus chokes out.

Lucius crosses his arm over his chest and gently bends at the waist.

“General,” he says quietly before walking out.

With a deep inhale Marcus moves aside the lush fabric that surrounds your shared bed and glances at your resting form. The court ladies have cleaned and dressed your wounds, and you seem to breathe evenly.

He carefully sits on the edge of the bed and rests his hand on your hip, his voice shaky when he whispers your name.

Your eyes open slowly and at the sight of him you smile. He captures your hand and presses it to his heart, letting the first tear roll down his cheek to land warm and wet on your skin.

“Marcus,” you whisper, flexing your fingers into his chest.

He starts to speak but the words get caught in his throat and you see the muscles work with his hard swallow.

“I know,” you whisper.

Your hand falls to his arm, and you trace your nails lightly along the corded muscle as it shifts under your touch.

When you start to sit up he wraps a strong hand around your nape and pulls you to his chest, holding you there gently as you rest your face in the crook of his neck.

“My love,” he breathes, lips brushing your temple. “I am sorry.”

You lift your face to his, gently cradling his jaw and sweeping your thumb along his cheek.

“Marcus. You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved me.”

He bows his head, unable to bear the steadfast love you hold in your eyes. But you don’t allow it and tip his chin up, watching as another tear slides down his face.

You sweep it away and pull him closer. You look him over with tender eyes, noting the dried blood, and reach for the wet cloth at your bedside. Your hands work slowly and gently as you wipe his skin clean.

Then you take his face in your hands, lips feather light as they glide over his, and whisper, “I love you.”

The simple uttering is all that you can say before he kisses you and as with all real emotions, there is immeasurably more left inside that what comes out in words.

You feel the air slide under the linens and sweep over your skin as he climbs into the bed, his warmth and scent cocooning you and filling you with instinctive yearning.

His arms circle around you and his heart pounds under your palm. Warm lips press to your forehead before he kisses one cheek and then the other, brushing his nose along your jaw on his way to your ear.

“I do not want to cause you any more pain.”

“Marcus,” you whisper. “You are here. There is no more pain. I need you.”

His eyes find yours, searching your face from under the fallen curls over his brow, the silver light of the moon highlighting the creases of worry.

“Please,” you say softly.

He tilts your head back with his hand on your jaw, smoothing it down the delicate curve of your neck, strong but gentle.

You push away his tunic, pressing your fingers to his firm, warm skin, his abdomen spasming when you scratch your nails over his ribs, and down, to the soft trail of dark hair that always tempts your hands lower.

His hands smooth over your skin, his eyes watching your face as his fingertips linger on each bruise and cut he finds.

He teases between your legs, finding you more than ready, and when he pushes a finger inside you, it’s slow, as if he’s feeling every inch of you.

“Is this…?” he starts to ask in a whisper.

“Marcus,” you moan. “More. Please.”

His other hand gently massages your breast as he pushes a second finger inside you, and the world fades away to these two points of sensation and then shrinks further as his words of love heat your skin.

Your hips push up and you beg him for more, already close to release but needing to feel him inside you when you fall apart.

With slow movements, intentionally gentle, he rocks into you. Calloused hands drift down your sides, clutching your hips, and his lips press to every inch of your skin he can find, whispering more words of praise and love.

There’s no space between your bodies, nothing but the black of night spread across you both like a velvet blanket, and the intensity of it makes your breath catch in your throat.

His voice shakes and he slides his hand up to your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin at the hollow of your throat.

He follows the path back down again, tracing the curve of your thigh, and moving between your legs, his broad fingertip circling and pressing.

“That’s it my love,” he says roughly.

Your orgasm rushes through you and you cry out his name, arching against him as he fills you up, hips rutting rhythmically.

When you collapse, pliant and spent, he catches you, cradling your head to his chest, and you hear the heavy thud of his heart.

He rolls you onto your back, careful with every movement, and slides back into you, watching your face with clear, serious eyes.

“I will never get enough of you,” he murmurs.

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #pedro pascal #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x female reader #general acacius #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #marcus acacius imagine #gladiator 2 #general marcus acacius

517 notes · View notes

rafesslxt · 2 months ago

Note

tom riddle headcanons with a reader who is bubbly, likes to wear too much pink, is naive etc (she could still be a slytherin, just not the evil sterotype yk) this is my first time requesting something i really liked your headcanons<:

PRETTY IN PINK

warnings: fluff, some tears, mention of sick family member

note: english is not my first language + this is a little rushed so excuse me pleeease

❀ y/n loves pink since she was a little kid. it almost came naturally

❀ when Tom first met her, he felt like he was in a feverdream. you crushed against him and stumbled backwards a little, his right arm wrapping around your middle to catch you while his body didn‘t even budged. "oh! hi! thank you so much wow uh i guess i didn‘t really see you. I mean you‘re really tall so i guess it‘s my fault for not seeing you since you couldn‘t be taller right? I‘m y/n by the way, I‘m a Slytherin too! You‘re Tom, right? I heard a lot about you and –" "Do you even breathe?"

❀ since that day you wouldn‘t get out of his head. he always catched your sweet perfume - matching your whole aesthetic in the hallway no matter which time or day it was. It lingered around him like a spell.

❀ he always had such a poker face no matter what his emotions deep down were – he never showed them. He only smiled out of formality or to be charming. Then there was you - always smiling, laughing, giggling at everything. There was nothing and no one that wasn‘t able to make you smile.

❀ one evening when everyone was outside the castle to watch a quidditsch game, ravenclaw against gryffindor, Tom decided to walk into the library. It was even quieter than usual when the room was full of students. He sat down in his usual spot pulled out some homework. After a few hours of reading, he heard a quiete giggling coming from a few bookshelfs behind him. His curiosity got the best of him and he searched for the source of the disturbing sound. he walked around the bookshelf and looked right at you with your owl next to you. "oh hey tom!" your voice sounded high pitched as you waved at him. "I didn‘t see you when you walked in! How are you? What are you doing he-" again, he intereupted you. "Can you be quiet?" "oh sorry!" you whisper yelled at him realizing he might wanted to study and needed a quiet place.

❀ you were good with almost everyone in school. everyone in your year greeted you like you did too. helping everyone felt natural to you since you were so caring and loved being there for your friends and even strangers

❀ one night tho, you felt as alone as you never did before. Tom found you sitting alone at the astronomy tower on the wet ground in your light pink floral dress, while it was pouring. and even tho he wasn‘t able to see your tears during the rain on your face, he could see your puffy lips, red eyes and nose. oh, and the heartbreaking look ln your face. "what are you doing out here?" he opened his umbrella and crouched down in front of you, holding the umbrella over you both

❀ you tried not to sob to loud and looked away. "i came outside and uh - it started pouring but–" "i asked what you‘re doing here, y/n." you took a deep, shaky breath before you answered his question properly. "my dad wrote me today and.. my mom is sick.. it‘s not getting worse bit also not better and i‘m so scared that sonethings going to happen to her- i mean-" another sob leaves your throat. "she my mom.."

❀ tom didn‘t know what do do or say, to make you feel better. so he just helped you stand up and took you back inside into the warmth of the castle. he folded the umbrella together before he took of his jacket. "here.. put this on." he says, wrapping it around your shaking body before you could even grab it by yourself. he guided you through the floors and walls, until you both were in your common room. he sat you down on the couch in front of the fire to dry up again.

❀ "thank you tom.." you whispered after a while as you two sat there next to each other in silence. his presence alone comforting enough.

❀ that night was the start of your friendship. you sat next to each other at breakfast and dinner, in class, went studying together, visited hogsmead on the weekends. that night was the start of a very long friendship and the start of a very deep bond.

taglist | masterlist

tags: @supernaturaldawning @belle-blue @cardibre91 @rriddlexx @aussiehufflepuff @aegonsslxt @helendeath @theblogformydeluluself @juliet-017 @lilith28zero @delacourdarling

xoxo sarah <3

#tom riddle #tom riddle fluff #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle masterlist #tom riddle headcanon #tom riddle drabble #tom riddle oneshot #slytherin boys #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys fluff #tom riddle imagine

206 notes · View notes

milkoomi · 5 months ago

Text

how i maintained a 4.0 gpa. ᥫ᭡

a lot of students strive to be the “perfect” student, me included! i’ve been able to achieve academic success, and i’m here to share my knowledge on how to do so! these are some things that have personally helped me, and so hopefully they can help you too! maintaining a 4.0 isn’t an easy feat, and i know that from first-hand experience. i haven’t always maintained this gpa, especially when i entered college, but i started implementing new things into my routine and study sessions that have helped me immensely!

let’s begin …

୨ৎ — daily/weekly planning

this was a game changer for me! especially coming back into college after taking some time off from school, planning my day/week out helped me tremendously! it helps you set aside time for schoolwork/studying as well as things that are more personal (i.e. self care, running personal errands, appointments/events, hang outs with friends/loved one, etc.).

time blocks

if you have a planner that includes an hourly schedule, use it! i recently got one that has one, and it’s helped me so much! getting an idea of a time frame for how long you work on school assignments or for studying can also help to alleviate any overwhelming feelings that a to-do list might give you (though, i am a huge fan of to-do lists personally!).

to-do lists

if you’re like me, and you enjoy lists, i highly recommend creating a to-do list! keep it simple if those kinds of lists tend to overwhelm you and create a more generalized to-do list.

generalized list example:

review course modules

complete 2 hours of work

rest for 30min - 1hr

journal before bed

the key with generalized to-do lists is to keep them very simple! maybe include the most important goals for your day/week, but avoid including every single thing you need to get done for the day!

୨ৎ — consistent routine

i’ve talked about routines a plethora of times, and you’ll hear so many others talk about it as well, but routines are so important when you’re on the road to academic success!

i’ve been able to feel more accomplished with a set routine during the week. waking up at the same time, ensuring i set aside time at night to myself, and time-blocking portions of my day to complete tasks! a good routine will help you stay on track.

even if you don’t have a set morning/night routine, still try to establish a good study/schoolwork routine! create a study ritual where you light your favorite candle, set the mood with ambient lighting (or whatever lighting you prefer), or maybe you have a designated study spot at a library or café!

if you do create a study routine, it would also be a good idea to freshen things up a bit here and there so that the tasks don’t start to seem mundane! maybe change up the location of where you study or maybe you might want to listen to a different playlist while you work or even starting with a different class instead of the usual first choice.

don’t be afraid to spice things up in your routine, even if it’s the smallest changes. doing so can also help prevent burn out!

୨ৎ — completing assignments ahead of time

working ahead (if possible) is always a great choice to make! or even simply just getting assignments done the day they were assigned is also a good idea! get your homework out of the way so that you can create more space for personal time to rest and recharge or, if you’re feeling energized and motivated, more time to focus on studying for upcoming exams!

also, making sure you get assignments done well before their due date also ensures that you work thoroughly and efficiently. it prevents rushed work and lessens the chances of any mistakes!

be diligent when it comes to your homework assignments! if you have the time now, get it done!

୨ৎ — attending all lectures

this is so important! catching up with missed assignments, notes, and lectures can be extremely overwhelming. it leads to that feeling of needing to rush your work and then creating that opportunity for mistakes. it’s also just, in general, difficult to keep up with your classes when you aren’t physically present in class. you lose the opportunity to ask questions in class, to take proper notes, to record lectures for later studying, and you miss out on key information/announcements from your teachers/professors.

of course, there will be days where you literally cannot make it to class, and that’s okay! don’t go beating yourself up for having to take a sick day, your health always comes first! be sure to communicate with your professors and to ask any and all necessary questions!

but i only bring this point up because it’s something that’s helped me succeed. plus, some of my grade depended on my attendance, which you’ll come to find while in college.

୨ৎ — creating connections

build relationships with your classmates and your professors! this is a really great way of ensuring you get good grades! how? well, as i mentioned in my post about how to study effectively, i brought up study groups. if you start building connections with your classmates, you’ll be able to create those study groups and work with others to continue to learn and study the material! it will help so much to have another friend who can help you out with a topic that you might be struggling with!

also, connecting with your professors is really great for 1. setting that good impression for yourself and 2. building that relationship with them allows for more comfort and ease of mind when you need to go to them for extra help and guidance! your professors are there to aid you in any way they can to help you achieve success in their class. i know it might be daunting to reach out to your professors, but i promise that they’re there to help you and that they are more than willing to guide you on the path to success!

୨ৎ — implementing study methods

i touched on various study methods in my post that i linked in the previous point! but study methods can give you a variety of new ways to learn the material! also, playing around with the material in different methods can spice up your study routine while also seeing what kind of methods get the topics to really stick.

i definitely recommend referring back to my “how to study effectively” post for a more detailed discussion on studying!

୨ৎ — romanticizing school

when i started treating myself as the main character, it gave me so much more motivation to get things done for myself. including my studies!

think of yourself as rory gilmore, blair waldorf, elle woods, hermione granger, or any of those iconic, studious characters!

how to romanticize your education:

set an aesthetic for yourself

light academia

dark academia

pink academia

coquette

there’s so many different aesthetics out there that you can play around with or follow to get inspiration! pinterest will be your best friend, and i recommend creating a school/study vision board with the aesthetic of your choice!

once you’ve settled on an aesthetic (or a few, whatever you’d like!) find school supplies that relate to what you chose! fancy notebooks, planners, cool pens/pencils/highlighters, and maybe be a new bag that fits into your style! having the supplies that bring you joy make your studying experience ten times better, trust me!

dress the part

again, take inspiration from your favorite educational icons! or simply, wear what you feel the most confident in! when you show up to class knowing you look good along with having those supplies that you know look aesthetically pleasing, you feel like you’re already a top student!

your study environment

this gets talked about a lot, but when i’m studying in my freshly cleaned room that’s been decorated to my liking and i have a nice candle going with my choice of lighting, i feel like my studying experience is a million times better! even when i go to a café to study or i’m in the library to get work done, i just feel like the main character in my own movie (which i am because, hey! it’s my life!)

let your workspace be your ideal space! when you work in an environment where you can get things done and you feel comfortable, you can accomplish so much.

study playlists

those ambient vibes playlists on youtube with those really aesthetically pleasing backgrounds on them are my go-to whenever i’m getting work done. it helps set the vibe for my sessions and it puts me in a good headspace to get into the grind! so pick a playlist that motivates you to get tasks done!

my favorite youtube study music videos:

Winter Jazz Library - Chill Crossing Hour

** i also recommend this channel for all their playlists!

Get to Work Sleepyhead - jelly

4-Hour Study with Me - Emmalilyn

** Emmalilyn has so many of these kinds of 4-hour study with me videos! i believe majority of them include the pomodoro method, so if that’s something you do or want to try i definitely recommend her channel!

2-Hour Study with Me - Tanyi

୨ৎ — final notes

those are all the tips i had to share with you all! this is what has personally worked for me, so there might be some things that might not work or you might do differently! regardless, you are capable of achieving great success throughout your academic career! never forget that. school is all about learning, and one of the things you learn is what works best for you and your road to success! do whatever works for you and play around with different ideas and methods! i wish you all the very best for your academic career! i’m rooting for you!

with lots of love, faustina 🌷

266 notes · View notes

shariasweet · 4 months ago

Text

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝓗er hignesse𝓢 𝓦ishes

s.jaeyun x f.reader

when you're finally free from your usual duties as princess of your father's kingdom, you're consumed by an unbearable boredom. luckily for you, your jester is always willing to give a helping hand with his thoughtful charm.

featuring ::: s. jaeyun wc ::: 2220 ws ::: princess reader x jester jake, reader calls him jaeyun because... idk I said so, fingering (f), pnv, pet names (princess, angel, etc.), slight praise, mdni !!! a/n ::: it's been like a month :( I kinda forgot how to write smut... plus obviously kissing but !!! I hope you enjoy regardless ^_^

one… two… three… soft pink blossoms swayed in the gentle wind outside of your window. and one… two… seven white ones lay clustered beneath them.

this is how you spent your afternoon — locked in your chambers... bored out of your mind. counting the flowers visible from your window was only an attempt to ease said boredom. each one was a half-hearted attempt to distract yourself from the monotony of your day.

you bit back a sigh as your advisor, jungwon, stood statured in the corner.

he’d report your every move to your mother. princesses do not whine, you reminded yourself, nor do they complain… her voice rang inside of your head.

but jaeyun… jaeyun would know how to solve this… as he always did.

your finger tapped lazily against the cool brick of the windowsill, a fond memory of the man washing over your thoughts.

“my princess…” he cooed, his voice a soft melody. “where are you…?”

barely stifled giggles had bubbled past your lips as you crouched behind a pillar in the library. most would insist you were far too old for hide and seek… even servants would argue that such a thing was simply not princess-making. yet in jaeyun’s presence, such rules ceased to matter.

of course, if your parents ever learned of this… disowning you might be the least of their worries — the reality of their jester’s head on a stick was not far-fetched. you shivered at the thought. but until then, you’d keep whatever this was with jaeyun — well alive…

“jungwon,” you called, twirling around to face him.

“yes, your highness?”

“i am dreadfully bored,” you frowned, the weight of your words drew a polite smile from him. “i’ve no lessons today, correct?” you perked back up, your head leaning towards the side as you awaited his response.

“that would be correct, your highness.” jungwon nodded. “would you like to be entertained?”

with a sly smile tugging at your lips you nodded. “the jester.” you spoke plainly, “fetch jaeyun for me, will you?”

jungwon hesitated, before bowing and retreating from the room.

content, you resumed at your spot by the window, picking up where you left off and diligently counting the flowers. twenty-eight, twenty-nine over there... and then…

“how does boredom find you, my princess?”

A familiar voice sent a wave of excitement through your body. you turned around to find jaeyun leaning casually against the doorframe, his usual lopsided grin lighting up on his face.

“unwell, as always… i have no lessons.” you sighed, hopping down from your perch as a small smile etched itself across your face. “jungwon, you’re dismissed.” you chirped, sauntering towards the man in front of your door.

the advisor bowed once more before slipping out… hearing the door click shut, jaeyun’s grin widened.

“sneaking off again, are we?” he teased, his arms snaking around your waist effortlessly.

“perhaps,” you murmured, locking your own arms around his neck. his lips brushed yours in a gentle kiss, leaving you breathless as you smiled against his mouth.

“it’s been a week,” you whispered.

“far too long,” he agreed, that playful mischief glimmering in his eyes.

you grinned — you couldn’t help but to when he was around. “you’ll entertain me, won’t you?”

he chuckled, leaning closer. “always, my princess.”

jaeyun’s lips captured your own in yet another embrace. his lips were soft — like always they molded against your own at a breath-taking pace. “it seems you’ve missed me more than I thought, my princess,” he teased you once more… his voice sending waves of arousal throughout your body.

“don’t flatter yourself,” you replied with your breath still caught in your chest. your lips were tingling with the lingering warmth of his.

“you’ve been counting flowers all afternoon,” he murmured, tilting his head ever so slightly as his fingers brushed along your jaw, holding your chin in place. “i’d say that sounds like you’ve been waiting on me.”

you opened your mouth to retort… though he was correct. but before the words could even escape past your lips, he’d leaned in yet again... his mouth capturing yours whilst your tongues moved in a synchronized rhythm, each kiss deepening the connection and closing the space between you.

. “jump up for me.” he commanded you, his voice was clouded with lust and inviting.

only in a setting like this would a jester hold any sort of dominance over you. much like hide and seek, you're sure many would argue that the idea of a jester giving a princess commands seems absurd.

“you could’ve just said you missed me,” he whispered, his hands slid down, clawing at the fabric of your dress, the delicate silk material bunching up beneath his fingertips.your legs wrapped around his waist as he held you close, your bodies pressed together against your chamber’s bed.

the throbbing bulge of his length against your core made your cunt ache. you yearned for him, arousal dripping from your fluttering hole, painting your puffy folds with slick. your heartbeat quickened as you pulled away and looked up at him — your eyes meeting as he held your gaze. “maybe i did,” your breath fanned across his face… the confession slipping out only loud enough for the two of you to hear.

his thumb grazed your lower lip, and for a moment, the world outside of your window — the flowers, your mother’s consistent nagging, your boredom… it all faded away.

it was only you and jaeyun, just the two of you basking in this stolen moment.

“say it again,” he begged softly, his voice dripping like honey..

you smiled, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you leaned in, your lips just inches away from his. “i missed you.”

his signature grin widened, but before he could respond, you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth and whispered against his skin, “and i want you.”

“who am i to refuse her highness’ wishes? sit up, angel.”

jaeyun’s hands traced up your spine, carefully untying your dress as the fabric fell off of your shoulders, leaving lace pooled around your waist as he admired you. truth be told, a weeks time wasn’t so long ago… however, your beauty seemed to stun him each time. “fuck…” his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his pants seemed to grow even tighter — suffocating his hardened cock.

“ah!” you gasped as he gently pushed you onto your back, his head shoved into your neck as he trails kisses down your body. “mpf! jaeyun…” he nips at your neck, kissing your collarbones and your chest — venturing between the valley of your breasts. “you’re so, so beautiful…” jaeyun coos, whilst his hand beneath you works at slipping the rest of your dress off, the other rolls your nipple in it’s fingers as he takes the other into his mouth. “you’re absolutely ravishing, my darling.”

“jaeyun, please.” you managed… the overwhelming feeling of his tongue swirling around your sensitive mound taking over. “p-please touch me.” your hands immediately tangle in his hair as his lips continue to explore the expanse of your body… your stomach and your thighs — he messily leaves wet marks down your torso until he’s face to face with your pulsating cunt. “so gorgeous…”

the man eagerly jumps up, a whine ripping past your lips as the cold air brushes against your skin. jaeyun pulls his shirt from over his head — stripping himself of his pants as well, kneeling before you once more.

without warning, he flicks his tongue against your clit, causing you to jolt. your back arches off of the mattress. “you taste divine, my love.” jaeyun grins against your slimy cunt, and just like that, every thought — along with any sharp retort you might have mustered… melts away; they all bubble into pornagraphic moans as the man continues lapping your up juices.

“o-oh my… mh..!” your soft mewls of pleasure echo throughout your chamber as your jester hungrily devours your weeping cunt.

“you’re so incredibly wet… i’m the luckiest man in all of the kingdom.” he grunts, humming against your slick hole. “It’s all f’me right? this perfect little cunt?” he licks another fat stripe up your burning core… a knot forming in your stomach as you nod feverishly. “mm… it-it’s all for you, j-jae…” the nickname rolls so gracefully off of your tongue.

already, he can feel your cunt flutter and clench around his restlessly determined muscle.

feeling your orgasm near, he further indulges you… slipping two of his slender fingers within the swollen gummy haven of your walls, slick lathering around the base of his fingers whilst he curled them against your g-spot. “i-if you c-continue, jaeyun.. i..!”

“go ahead, angel… cum all over my fingers. make a mess, be good f’me… good princess.” jaeyun purs.

before you can even let it slip past your lips (puffy and tender from holding back your yelps), you’re interrupted by the waves of pleasure crashing over you; eyes dramatically rolling into the back of your head, your grip on the silk sheets faltering. "shh... sh—oh my god!" you take a breath, holding in curses as a wave of ecstasy shoots through your body.

“how was that, my love?” his fingers retreat, leaving your throbbing cunt feeling empty once again.

"it was perfect," you whisper, a lazy smile tugging at your lips as your arms slot themselves around his neck. “good, cause we’re not done yet.” he chuckles into your mouth — your lips capturing his in a passionately soft kiss… the sweet tang of your cunt lingers on his mouth. jaeyun’s tongue darts out, caressing your bottom lip as you invite him to explore your mouth once more.

if it weren’t for his size, you wouldn’t have even noticed the tip of his cock aligning itself with your entrance — slowly digging into your soaked core.

after the leaky mushroom tip came his shaft… “ah… ‘give me more…” you whined, as if he were made for you, you could feel each vein adorning his cock drag against your walls as he carefully stretched you out. “a-always so fffucking tight. ‘love being inside — so close to you.” jaeyun hushed you as he continued to fuck into you. “all the way, right? you can take it, can’t you, my princess?” with your foreheads pressed together, you nodded, utterly desperate to take whatever more jaeyun had to give you — intending to take it all. “speak to me…”

“ngh! yes! jaeyun… ‘want it s’bad.”

a sharp sting rushed through you as your stomach tightened, feeling jaeyun’s cock effortlessly split you in half. “o-oh shit…” he threw his head back, bottoming out.

he gave you mere seconds to adjust, eager to feel you squeeze and come undone on his dick… before thrusting into you at a painfully steady rate.

with each drag of his cock his tip to kiss your cervix — brushing past that sweet spot, sunken inside of you.a satisfied smirk played on jaeyun’s lips as he watched a flush of heat spread across your face. quickly, you turned away, grimacing in embarrassment as you struggled to stifle your moans. “look at me, angel.” he cooed. “your pleasure is my sole purpose… l-let me know that i make you f-feel… feel good.”

“fuck!” you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “feels good..! sosososo good, you’re so good, jae!” you spewed out the rushed string of words… your stomach forming a tight knot once more as the man continued fucking into you.

“Is that right, princess? d’you feel me right…” his hand grazed the flesh of your stomach, finding his bulge before pressing his palm firmly down. ”right there.” he slammed into you — balls gently tapping against your ass as the both of you cried out. “mmpf! yes, yes right t-there oh… fuck!”

“are you going to cum? go ahead, be good, make a mess.”

jaeyun was entranced by the ring of creaminess you’d left around the base of his cock. “cum for me, y/n.” it’s the only time he would ever call you by your name. but on demand, the knot in your stomach snapped, untying itself and unravelling as you came all over him. “hah… ah! i love you, oh my! ‘love you s’s’much!” he let you ride down your high, incoherent babbles still spilling from your throat.

“i love you more.” he kissed at the side of your lips, fucking into you one last time before white spurts of cum decorated the walls of your cunt.

one... two... three... twelve. jaeyun had cured your boredom for the twelfth time. first in the library, then in the gardens, and now... here.

lucky for you both, you weren’t particularly fond of even numbers.

“jungwon!” you called, knowing your ever-watchful advisor stalked outside chamber doors. as expected, he appeared calmly.

his expression remained still, unbothered by the sight of you and a naked jester tangled in the aftermath of your affair. this wasn’t his first encounter with your little secret…

“have my ladies draw me a bath… one for him as well,” you instructed, nodding toward jaeyun — a worn, sleepy smile glued onto his face.

“yes, your highness,” jungwon replied with a slight bow before turning to leave.

“oh, and jungwon,” you stopped him. “i do not have any lessons for tomorrow, correct?”

“that’d be correct, your highness.”

perfect. tomorrow would make thirteen.

all works are works of fiction. they do not reflect the reality of anyone mentioned... all works owned by @shariasweet on tumblr {do NOT repost on other sites} ≽^•⩊•^≼

#shariasweet ༉‧₊˚.#enha smut #enhypen smut #enha hard hours #enha hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #sim jaeyun smut #sim jake smut #jake smut #jaeyun smut

163 notes · View notes

gamemakerm · 1 year ago

Text

In honor of Mermay and the current trend of Animal/Therian HRT going around (inspired by @ayviedoesthings's Dragon HRT series, @welldrawnfish's Fish HRT, @kaylasartwork's Bat HRT, @nyxisart's Puppy HRT, @deadeyedfae's Human HRT, etc etc etc, love all your work), I wanted to share the short story I wrote last year about medically turning yourself into a mermaid. This got published in WriteHive's Reclaiming Joy anthology, and we're now just outside of the six-month publishing exclusivity, so I can make it publicly available.

This was really raw to write for me, and there are trigger warnings for transphobia(/whatever the equivalent would be for mermaids?), implications of violence and hate crimes. However all the stories in the anthology were ultimately about perseverance, courage and love. I hope you enjoy, and if you want to get this and eleven other uplifting stories I can't recommend the anthology enough (though this is the only one relevant to the tags as far as I know). And if you really, really like it, you can buy me a kofi!

Scales

When the scales began to break through skin, they said you were becoming a monster. Blue and green, seafoam to pearl. You weren’t certain at what point you started to believe them.

You began to wrap yourself in tighter layers, a futile effort not to draw attention to the rough patches. Elbows, knees, along your arms, mottled with foundation and concealer caked on like spackle. Toner to offset the iridescent shine so that a passing glance wouldn’t be drawn to it. Constant checks and double checks, bathroom visits far beyond the routine.

Your careful camouflage is usually enough to deflect scrutiny, but occasionally a stranger catches on. Nobody has said anything to you yet, but you have noticed more glances on the train. The old woman’s frown of disapproval. The young man with something to prove to you, himself, the world. His jaw tightens as he calculates his ability to start something. You tuck your chin and pretend to be busy with your phone. In the dark screen you can see the skin flaking on your cheeks. The beginnings of another patch betray you.

As you touch up in the bathroom mirror you tell yourself you wanted this, that you were prepared for the hardships.

You walk to the public library after your shift ends. You walk most places these days, telling yourself it’s a last hurrah. The fact is you sold your car to make a dent in the cost. You’ll sell everything eventually. You’re going to have to.

The forums have a list of books everyone checks out when they choose this path. There aren’t many and most are fantasy. There’s a running joke: if anyone mentions Hans Christen Anderson, run. You spot The Little Mermaid on a small display. You don’t run. You check out your books. The librarian gives a knowing nod, but doesn’t remark. You silently thank her for the discretion.

You take a long shower, makeup swirling down the drain. You can’t help but scratch at the itching patches on your thighs, peeling skin tearing away for new growth. Shampoo and blood circle under your feet. Your fingernails are sharper than they were this morning. You exfoliate, letting the city, public transit, the glances of strangers be cleansed. Your reflection in the mirror, a colorful smattering of new scales dusting your cheeks, is tear-streaked, ethereal. Beautiful.

You knock the concealer into the trash bin.

Your mother left a voicemail. She avoids the elephant seal in the room, talking about her gardening, your cousin’s new baby. She lingers for a moment, then: You’re being selfish. She burns brightly as a beratement begins, emboldened. But without someone to riff with she loses her steam, trails off and repeats it. You’re being shellfish. She can’t help it; she laughs despite herself. There’s a minute where she doesn’t speak, but you can tell she’s waiting for the sob in the back of her throat to settle. She promises she’ll come to your party and the voicemail ends.

You still haven’t heard from your father. You don’t expect you will. You’ve made peace with that.

You do your weekly injection on the alternating leg, needle piercing deep in a gap between scales. The plunger delivers 200mg of concentrated hope directly into your bloodstream, salt water in salt water. You put a hello kitty bandaid over it and wait for the feeling of ice in your veins to settle, the tension to go out of your muscles. It doesn’t.

You pass an enraged man on the street, spit flying, a home-made sandwich board making his message clear: The Siren Is The Devil’s Agent. The back offers an equally cogent argument: Go Back To Atlantis, Fish Freaks. You would if you could, you think dryly. He notices you and seethes, but the current of the crowd carries you away before he can curse you out.

You drag your potted plants down to the front stoop and post a craigslist ad: free to a good home. They’re gone within the hour. You allow yourself the rare indulgence of posting a selfie, eyes closed, serene, to the reddit: Learning to love my scales <3! It’s still difficult to type on your phone with the new claws. The upvotes start to come in; everyone loves a guppie.

You catch up on the shows you haven’t gotten to yet. Where there was once only the metaphorical List, there is now an actual list. Despite your best efforts it’s becoming increasingly clear you’re not going to finish all of them. You knock a few off, restructure it based on length. It still looks too long.

You have dreams about choking on toxic waste, getting minced by a boat propeller. You keep a running count of the number of times you’ve dreamt of getting your head stuck in a six-pack of soda rings. You’re up to four.

Every few days you do laps in the local pool. You’re getting faster, but you feel exposed. There are whispers around the locker room.

Your cat knows something is happening, but doesn’t understand what that means for her. You hold her whenever and for as long as she’ll allow, give her as many pets and treats as she wants. Despite clearing out your apartment you’ve spoiled her. She licks the scales on your cheek as you cry over her. This seems to inspire something in her; she demands her tuna crunchies. Dutifully you give her the tuna crunchies. She can have as many tuna crunchies as she wants.

You doomscroll your twitter feed, making sure this isn’t the day you lose access to your meds because of some white man in a suit. A sister is assaulted by a violent extremist with a sense of humor: he shot her with a harpoon gun. Her crowdfunding campaign starts on the maidens reddit and goes viral.

You triple check to make sure your friend is still willing to take your cat when you go. They promise to spoil her and tell her stories of you every day. You continue to cry over it. They invite you out for sushi to talk about it, then backtrack to ask if that’s a microaggression. You go to sushi. You’re thankful for the distraction.

By the time your legs are more scale than skin and your fingers begin to develop webbing you’ve given up on pretense. The looks are now constant, but you get reflective sunglasses and a new patch for your jacket: Don’t like it? Drown, with a scaled hand reaching out of water and flipping the bird. You put the energy out into the world, and the world doesn’t fuck with you.

Children love you. Their parents do not.

On the train a young girl quietly asks if she can feel your scales. You allow her to touch her little fingers to the aquamarine pattern running up your arm, giving her your most reassuring (but still fanged) smile. She’s fearless, enamored, reverent. Her mother pulls her daughter away and hastily apologizes for her, not looking you in the eye. But you know that girl believes in magic now.

A group of white supremacists go out on a boat loaded with assault rifles for “no reason” and get lost at sea. This is somehow your fault.

The day your fins begin to push their way out from your arms, your boss calls you into his office. You both know he can’t fire you in this and seven other states, but you both also know you won’t be staying much longer. He’s done his best to make you aware you’re making his life more difficult. You put in your two weeks before he can flounder for another excuse. He moors you with paperwork for the rest of the afternoon.

Someone leaves a rotting fish in your pool locker. You don’t go back, and you don’t file a report. You tell yourself the chlorine was bad for the gills freshly forming under your ribs anyway.

Your friends take you out clubbing. You lose yourself under the waves of music, submerged under strobe lights and the salty sweat of dancing bodies. You whisper sweet nothings into a stranger’s ear, entrancing her as you move against each other. You can see iridescence shining around her eyes, shimmering glitter and an emerging pattern beneath makeup. You brush a thumb against her cheek and she melts into your touch. You don’t get her name. You don’t need to; you’re both not long for this world. You catch up with your friends smoking outside, your lips still tingling with vermouth.

Weeks pass. Work ends. Your apartment is down to furniture and cat supplies. You take longer showers. News stories continue to come out, the machine churns and roils: monsters walking among humans, the mark of the beast, sacrificing daughters to the ocean.

You make sure your meds are reupped for the final stretch.

When your legs start to merge you know you don’t have much time left. You donate the last boxes of your clothes. Your friends get first dibs on furniture before it’s put on the street. They bring drinks and sit on your floor, an impromptu celebration and wake. They ask all the usual questions: what are you going to do for food? Shelter? What if you get hurt, or attacked by a shark? Do they have waterproof laptops yet? Will they ever see you again? What if it isn’t right for you? Can you ever come back?

You don’t know how to answer most of those questions. The group stays with you through the night. At 4AM you put on The Little Mermaid and the group drunkenly sings along. Everyone knows the words. It’s juvenile and you can hear the maidens on the reddit rolling their eyes and tutting about misrepresentation, but you know everyone in your position does it. You try not to cry, but the waterworks start and don’t stop.

At daybreak you put your cat into her harness and everyone piles into a friend’s van. It’s not far to the beach, but they take the long way around. One final tour of the land. Your cat sits on your lap and stares out the windows as you pass old haunts, your grocery store, your gym, your high school. You realize you still have library books to return and almost get them to turn around, but someone promises to go back for them afterwards.

There’s an isolated area on the beach where a canopy and tables are set up; banners, food, friends. It’s a regular going away party, as if you’re going on a short trip abroad. You suppose you are, in a way. Someone rented a wheelchair with fat tires to help you get down to the beach.

When your mother arrives she pulls her shirt off to show her custom-made clam bra. Her eyes are already red and puffy, but she’s doing her best to be energetic and upbeat. She holds you for a long time and says she’s happy for you, that you’re beautiful, that you’re so much stronger than she ever was, and then she puts on a brave face to help everyone get served at the buffet. Your cat chases small crabs across the beach around you, and you sit in the sand. The party goes strong.

The tides come up until your fin is tickled by the seafoam. Everyone knows that means it’s time to go. You pass your cat off to her new owner and she gives you a last headbutt. She seems to understand. You kiss your mother’s cheek one last time and she clings to you. The group raises their drinks as you paddle out, disappearing beneath the waves. You give them the money shot and leap out of the water on your way out of the sound, and you can hear cheering from the shoreline. You hope someone got a video for the maidens.

You keep the city in sight for a while, but the currents lead you further into open waters. There are boaters out on the water who wave to you. You wave back and keep swimming up the coast.

At dusk you rise to the surface and watch the setting sun turn the horizon from blue to pink to purple and orange. There’s nothing for leagues around. As the sun sinks below the waves and the skies darken you sing your first real siren’s song. Shaky and imperfect, it soon resounds over the ocean breeze. You leave everything behind in it. There are no words, only feeling and sound. It’s a lament, an invocation, a dirge. It is many things, but it isn’t an apology. You have nothing to apologize for.

In the seas beyond a chorus joins in with a language you never learned but understand, integrating your song into theirs. You swim to join them.

#animal hrt #furry hrt #dragon hrt #therian hrt #otherkin #mermaid #mermay #mermay 2024 #transgender #tf hrt #mythical hrt?#writing #short story #writeblr

473 notes · View notes

daisydrabbles · 2 months ago

Note

hii!! first of all, i lovee your writing smm

i was wondering if you would do like headcanons on what each slytherin boy thinks romantically about the different houses? how open they are to dating one, what they think about them, etc?

if that's too big of an ask it'd be totally fine to just do Theo, Enzo, and Mattheo :))

i’m so into you, into you, into you

the way this has been sitting half-finished in my drafts for six months.

soooo sorry for the delay i had such severe writers block but i was feeling very motivated today so i hope you enjoy <33

the slytherin boys’ dating preferences…

Boys included: Enzo, Draco, Theo, Blaise, Mattheo

Enzo likes Gryffindors. He seeks an opposites-attract sort of relationship with who’ll give him a run for his money. He especially loves the way Gryffindor girls will flaunt him around like locking down a Slytherin boy is some sort of achievement. How their way of flirting is by lowkey bullying but no offence is ever taken because they both know they’re just teasing. He doesn’t get jealous when his Gryffindor girl flirts around - in fact, he encourages it. He knows his girl is hot and, being a Slytherin, he’s cocky enough to know she won’t actually pursue anyone else. He just wants to see how brave his little Gryffindor will get before she gets bored and comes running back to him because, at the end of the day, she’ll only ever feel content in his arms. He also feels a sense of accomplishment being the only Slytherin who’s truly welcome in the Gryffindor common room. Though some of his ex-girlfriends (he has a lot of them) may be glaring holes in his skull, through hanging out with Gryffindor girls he has successfully charmed the entire house into thinking he’s ’one of the good ones’.

Draco pretty much exclusively goes for Slytherin girls. Is anyone surprised? (No? I didn’t think so). But it’s not in the snobby, purist way everyone thinks it is. He likes the borderline toxic trauma-bond you can create with someone who’s had a similar upbringing. Trauma mostly goes undiscussed between the Slytherin boys - they have a silent agreement to not discuss it - but Slytherin girls make him feel seen. With a Slytherin girl, Draco feels comfortable opening up about his past because he knows it won’t be anything ground-breaking to her. They can talk about it normally; casually, almost. Perhaps they can even make dark jokes that only the other will find funny. And when they’re done with their deep conversations, they can lift eachother’s spirits with some rough sex in Draco’s private dorm (that his father requested, but you could’ve guessed that). Whilst his relationships are much more than just physical, make no mistake: they are still very physical.

Theo has a soft spot for Hufflepuffs. Something about the way they’re so trusting and so willing to please makes him crazy - he gets off on knowing he’s the only one that gets to see that much of them. To touch them. To watch them squirm underneath him. And, although he’d never admit it, he likes feeling cared for. He’s not got much experience being cared for so he doesn’t really know what it’s meant to feel like, but Hufflepuff girls can always see through his deflection and tell when he’s hurt. That makes him feel cared for. Equally, he likes caring for someone. The man may have a reputation for being a little ruthless and a bit of a player but you’d be surprised - find him a pretty little Hufflepuff and he’d move heaven and earth for her. Well, maybe that’s a little dramatic but you’d definitely catch him holding her hand in the corridor (whilst whispering sweet nothings in her ear, of course) or dozing off on her shoulder in the middle of class (he’ll still get practically full marks, and it will irritate the fuck out of her but she’ll still love him anyway).

Blaise will always go for a Ravenclaw. Sure, he’s studious himself, but not Ravenclaw-level studious. He likes the balance he can get from a Ravenclaw girl - they can study in the library together, but between doing her homework and her extra-credit he knows he’ll be able to talk her into following him into the restricted section to make out. It’s the corruption element that excites Blaise; he loves knowing that he can convince one of the smartest girls in school to ditch studying and go do dumb shit with him and his friends. Lord have mercy on anyone else who tries to interrupt his girl’s studying though - he’s as protective as he is corruptive. Only he can mess with her, he wouldn’t actually let anything come between her and her studies. They’re important to her, so they’re important to him. A Ravenclaw girl can hold her own though, and he knows that, her wit is probably what drew him in in the first place. Any girl who can silence his obnoxious friends is wife material to him.

Mattheo doesn’t care. That man is a whore and he thinks the whole house-divide is complete bullshit. If he’s attracted to someone, he’ll pursue them. He pretends he’s just interested in anyone up for a quick fuck, but that’s all an act. Really, he’ll accept any affection he can get. The key to his heart is treating him like any other person. Most people outside of his immediate circle of friends avoid conversation with him entirely, due to the misconception that he’s dangerous (perhaps that’s not entirely a misconception, but he’s relatively harmless until he’s given a reason to he dangerous). This creates a problem: whenever a pretty girl shows him any kind of platonic affection whatsoever (or just treats him with basic human decency, he isn’t picky) he tends to develop a little crush. Not many people are nice to him, and he doesn’t know how to react on the rare occasion someone new shows him any kindness. Not that he’d admit that to anyone, of course.

#୨ৎ daisy writes #theo nott #theodore nott #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo fluff #mattheo imagine #theo nott smut #theo nott imagine #draco malfoy #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin boys imagine

89 notes · View notes

zorange13 · 23 days ago

Text

— your name in wet paint, nishimura riki

vandal art student! nishimura riki x law student! black fem reader

synopsis: in the heart of new york city, you, a driven law student, run into Riki, a reckless street artist who gets you into a bit of tailspin. upon a one-off kiss, he swears there’s something more he has to offer than spray paint. he’s messy, impulsive, and everything that you didn't know you needed. and in just a few hours, your entire world changes.

cw. illegal activity, cursing, forced proximity/deception, emotional whiplash, mentions of hunger and food, eating, police chase, new yorker riki, new yorker reader, riki’s a little delusional but disgustingly charming, small age gap (riki 21, reader 19), pining, riki has slight manic pixie dream boy tendencies, socio-political commentary (gentrification, red-lining, etc.), meet-weird (???), citation/quoting The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot, kissing, smut (fingering, p in v, etc. the whole thing), virginity loss,

minors dni.

wc. 18.7k

inspired by The Sun Is Also a Star and Before Sunrise.

—

— New York City, Lower Manhattan, Greenwich Village: circa 4:26 PM

You were just trying to get home before dinner.

You swear—you were just trying to make it home and out of Bleecker Street before the sun dipped too low. If God could just let you make it one borough up north, back home safely in Baychester, then that’s all you needed. You would never ask Him for another thing again.

But as you start bustling your way through the gentrified streets of Lower Manhattan, you look to your left and are silently deliberating.

Shortcuts at this time, or any time, in a city like this were in fact dangerous and a part of you debated taking the risk. Granted you had taken this way a few times but never a shortcut. Not at this hour.

Still, you had things to do. Legal briefs to write, dinner to reheat—you were starving, shows to watch. Literally anything would be better than being outside right now. Never in life would you travel all of this way to study again—a “change of scenery” was no longer something you desired. Columbia University’s library and your bedroom was more than enough.

Nonetheless, you pondered and pondered. Then figured that the MTA wasn’t going to wait for you. So you veered left.

It wasn’t dark out, no, you weren’t stupid. You wouldn’t have taken this way if you couldn’t see down the abyss that was this alley. But it was narrow, it stank. Smelt of cat pee, weed, and faintly of…cheddar cheese?

But it shaved a solid five minutes off your walk, so putting a little pep in your step wasn’t an issue—nope, not at all, no problem.

You removed your headphones quickly, you weren’t scared. Just alert. What you didn’t expect was a hiss. Stopping in your tracks, afraid it might’ve been a stray cat or human being.

It’s New York, you really never know.

But this sound was ahead of you and curiosity did in fact, kill the cat but you tried not to let it kill you. Carefully stepping forward and looking down slightly to your right, you spotted a figure—someone. Someone crouched in front of the wall, seemingly a guy—hoodie half up and already partially covered in the vibrant colors that lay on his black clothes. A sharp spray of aerosol cut through the air as your eyes fell upon the wall to see what he was doing.

A stupid dumpster was blocking your view, requiring you to take a step forward and accidentally, your foot kicked a stray, empty can. Making you freeze and put your hands up in defense.

The guy turned to you sharply, equally as stunned as you are. “Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me.”

You blinked, “I scared you?” Your hands are still half-up like you’re getting arrested by a particularly dramatic mime. He’s still holding the spray can, finger mid-press, the paint hissing a little tail as it dies out.

Something about him feels familiar. Not in a ‘I’ve seen you around campus or in a dream’ kind of way. But in a weirdly boyish, pretentiously attractive guy you only see on social media kind of way.

And attractive he was. Even though he was crouched, judging by the length of his legs he seemed tall. Sharp jaw, cat-like eyes, and equally as sharp, yet upturned nose. The skewed lighting in this alley complimented him in some weird, sick and twisted way. That somehow, in any situation he still looked akin to a supermodel. Someone that looked like that had no reason being holed up in a dirty, dingy alley.

He was beautiful.

So as he stayed crouched, slightly turned to you in a half-zipped hoodie, revealing the white long sleeve he had on under it that peeked through the cuff. Hair a bright, dazzling silver—he looked at you with something unrecognizable. “I don’t know, thought you were a cop or something.” He shrugged. “You’re not a cop…are you?”

You deadpanned as you tightened the straps on your backpack. “Do I look like a cop?”

He gives you a once-over, suddenly making you super conscious of your appearance. Your tight, coily hair was out. Frizzing from the tad bit of humidity in the atmosphere. Old, faded flare jeans and some beat up sneakers you’ve had since middle school that you just never grew out of. As well as a thick zip-up your mom gave you for your birthday last year. You didn’t look a mess, you just looked like a normal person going about their day.

He shook his head, grunting as he stood up. “No,” he dusted his gloves off as he stepped back to admire his work. “You caught me just as I was finishing though.” Mystery boy smiled, “What do you think? Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Your eyes darted everywhere but the wall. Surprised that he would even want a stranger’s opinion. Partly because you were still sizing him up—trying to clock if this was some kind of setup—but mostly because the last thing you expected was him wanting your opinion. “Um…”

You looked past him to the wall, finally taking in the spray-painted chaos in front of him. It was abstract—vivid and strange—but somehow…weirdly moving. It was the kind of thing you wouldn’t understand in a museum, but might stare at anyway.

“It’s okay, I can take criticism.”

“You know you just graffitied a private building. That’s a crime.” You muttered quietly. “But besides that…it’s beautiful.” You played awkwardly with your sleeve, biting your lip.

He let out a breathy laugh as he tidied up, taking his gloves off and tossing them into a small duffel bag. “Thank you, but…there’s no harm in a little public beautification, right?”

You smiled despite yourself as you bent down to pick up the can that ignited this exchange. “I guess not.” You toyed with the empty can as your eyes found his bag. “Do you always do this?”

“I think you really are a cop.” He turned to you with a smile before zipping up his bag.

“Close,” you nodded, “law student.” You pointed to yourself with a glint in your eyes.

His smile faltered for half a second—just a flicker—but it was enough to clock. “Oh,” he said, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep talking to you or start running.

You raised an eyebrow. “Relax. I’m not gonna chase you down and recite Miranda rights.”

“Thank you,” he said, tossing the duffel over his shoulder. “But I do this enough. Enough to know where the security cameras are and aren’t.”

That wasn’t an answer. But it also was.

You eyed him for a second. He was still watching you, like he hadn’t quite figured you out either. Like maybe he was waiting for you to say something cop-adjacent again so he could bolt—or maybe he just liked the way you were looking at him.

“What’s your name?” You said as you mindlessly sprayed the ground, though there was no give. The aerosol only emits air and lightly sputters out the remnants of some bright blue paint.

He smirked, “You first, you’re the one trying to build a profile on me as we speak.”

You tilted your head, deadpanning, “I said I’m a law student, not a snitch.”

“Those lines get blurry,” he waved his hands cavalierly, “But I’m Riki.”

You nodded slowly, giving him your name, but as you prepared to respond you heard a pointed voice from down the alley. “Hey! You two!” And that’s when you both heard it: the faint static crackle of a walkie-talkie and the distinct sound of boots against concrete. Hurried and heavy.

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Wh—” But he didn’t have time for words, he grabbed your hand and looked at you firmly. “Run.”

Without another word, he took off with your hand in his at rapid speed down the alley. The can in your hands dropping and his duffel abandoned. He’ll come back for it later. But for now, he was forcing your legs to move faster than you thought were physically possible. Huffing and puffing down the way.

As you two reached the end, you stopped and looked both ways, seeing that there was nowhere to go. You had already passed the part that you were meant to leave out of to go to the train. But Riki was quicker. His hand, still held tightly on yours, guided you to a fire escape. “Go, c’mon.”

“This is crazy,” you whisper-yelled as you climbed up the fire escape with awkward finesse and him following closely behind, right on your heels.

As you scrambled up and he hoisted himself behind you, the metal creaked beneath your weight. Your hands slipped once on the rusted railing, but Riki was there—one hand steadying your back before urging you upward again.

“You’re doing great,” he muttered, and somehow you hated how calming his voice was. Like this wasn’t a literal felony footrace.

You reached the top, chest heaving, heart trying to break dance out of your ribcage. He hopped up beside you, barely out of breath, and looked around quickly—eyes sharp and scanning the skyline like he’d done this before.

“You do this often?” you panted, half-joking, half-wheezing.

“Only on days ending in Y.” He gave you that stupid cocky grin and took off again, toward the roof but quickly stopped when he saw you weren’t behind him. “What are you doing?”

As you peered down at the far and wide gap between you and the ground, sweat started forming on your brow. Stomach twisting and lurching. You shook your head frantically, “I can’t do that.”

Riki’s eyes widened as he frowned, looking back at the fire escape as he heard the same groaning that the metal gave them you two when you were on it. Signaling that the cop wasn’t too far behind. “Come on, please? It’s not even that far.”

“Riki, no.”

“Please, just trust me. You really gotta trust me.” He quickly walked backwards toward the middle of the roof. His hand hasn��t let yours go this entire time. “Just don’t look down.”

Seeing the cop make his way to the rooftop with you two lit a fire under both of your asses.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath, eyes flicking from the cop to the rooftop ledge, to Riki—whose fingers tightened just enough to say we are so screwed unless you jump, right now.

He gave you one last pleading look, that infuriatingly cinematic silver hair catching the wind like this was some kind of indie action movie. “I got you. I swear.”

“I hate you,” you muttered, heart pounding as your legs twitched with hesitation.

“Yeah, but you’re gonna miss me if we get caught,” he grinned—and then he ran, tugging you right along with him.

Your feet slapped against the concrete, wind rushing past your ears as the ledge came closer, faster, too fast, and your brain screamed STOP but your body didn’t listen because—

You jumped.

And for one horrifying second, you were airborne. No ground. No roof. Just air, your hand in his, your scream trapped in your throat—

And then impact.

You hit the other side hard, tumbling into Riki, who had twisted just enough to break your fall—with your backpack that had been performing extremely well—and immediately groaned, “Ow. Okay. Maybe that was a little far.”

You whined at the pain shooting through your back, most likely the stainless steel water bottle having been the thing to jut out and poke you. “Fuck you,”

He let out a pained laugh, “Damn, at least buy me dinner first.” He stood and rubbed his elbow before he reached down to help you up.

You could feel the onset of bruises forming on you, but none of that mattered. “You said it wasn’t even far, that you would—I almost died!” You pushed his shoulder with your not-aching hand.

“But you’re very alive!” He gestured to you as he took the excuse to scan your body. “I’d rather a bruise than a casket.” Smiling as he unzipped his hoodie, taking it off and wrapping it around his hips.

The sound of the rooftop door slamming open across the gap cut off the sarcasm instantly. You both whipped your heads toward it—flashlight beams sweeping the rooftop you’d just left, voices yelling over each other, and then…one of them looked directly at you. He must’ve called for backup.

“There!” someone shouted.

Any and all angry responses you had were all out of the window. You both darted to the far edge of the roof, this one not having a door to follow through. But fortunately, a fire escape to drop down on. Like last time, he let you go down first. And as you both made your way down, he accidentally sandwiched your hand between a rung and his foot. “Ow! Bitch!” You hit his leg as you kept moving down the ladder.

He gasped softly, “Sorry!” He whisper-yelled, sounding more amused than concerned.

You both hopped down onto a stack of milk crates with a loud clatter. You winced. “Subtle,” you muttered.

The momentary silence was broken when there were frantic steps toward your way. Paranoid that it might be the same cop, you both scrambled behind a nearby dumpster. Squatting behind it in close quarters. “Wh—is that—” You sputter out but are shushed by Riki. “Aht!” He holds his finger to his lips as he looks at you.

The world seemed to go silent as you both pressed yourself against the wall. The dumpster reeked of sour milk and corn chips as the sun had baked it, only intensifying the stench. But despite that, amidst the silence, crunching of gravel beneath boots was enough to send your senses aflame.

Your eyes widen, mouthing “What the fuck.” To which Riki shook his head with firmness, not even trying to look your way—but focusing on where the cop was coming from.

As the officer encroached, your stomach twisted and hands started shaking. Panting and trying to mellow out your frantic breathing, you grab the collar of your sweater and cover your mouth with it.

You know for a fact that if he saw you two, you’d be arrested and charged with trespassing, vandalism, fleeing law enforcement, and reckless endangerment. There was such despicable irony in this being a possibility yet you worked your entire life up to this point to resist exactly this. You, of all people—Miss GPA, Law School, Future of the Fucking Judicial System—were now crouched behind a dumpster, next to a guy who thought “Don’t look down” counted as a real strategy.

And still. Still.

You didn’t move.

Because despite everything—sweat clinging to your back, the stench clogging your throat, the very real chance of handcuffs—his hand brushed yours. Barely. Not even gripping this time. Just…there. A silent “I got you.”

Your heart, already trying to launch itself through your ribcage, gave one loud, traitorous thump. And as the cop was approaching and inspecting every nook and cranny you had to do everything in your power to ensure you did not go to jail.

So you grabbed Riki, no build up, no foreplay, no teasing. You crashed your lips against his without a thought. It was hilarious actually, you could taste the shock on his lips but none of that mattered. He complied and wrapped his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer as you both leaned into the lie.

Or, at least—that’s what you told yourself it was. A distraction. A decoy. A get-out-of-jail-free kiss. Right?

Except his fingers curled into the fabric of your sweater.

Except his mouth moved like he meant it.

Except you weren’t looking forward to pulling away either.

Your brain was screaming ‘girl, what are you doing’ but your body? Your body was a traitor. A criminal. An accomplice.

The cop’s boots paused. Peeking over the dumpster and onto you two, but you didn’t stop. It didn’t matter who was watching, no one else mattered. Nothing mattered.

But with finality, the officer smacked his teeth and sighed. “Damn kids,” turning back, retreating to wherever he belonged: giving up.

Riki didn’t let go.

Not immediately as least, his hands found your hair as he mindlessly massaged your soft coils. But his lips lingered, slow now. Like if you gave him another second, he’d kiss you with more than he meant right now.

You finally pulled back—breath catching. “Is he gone?”

His hands left you and he nodded without a word, slightly dazed.

You stand up, surveying the area—scanning for any sign of law enforcement. A person, anything. But no, not a soul. And you didn’t even realize that it was already dark out.

Riki stands up, eyes never having left you as he walks toward you. Still wordless. Heart also clenched but nowhere near from fear.

Your adrenaline was starting to simmer, hands starting to clench but your stomach wasn’t fueled with fear anymore. Now it was solely anger.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You turned around and shoved Riki, hands practically making marks in his firm chest.

“Ow!” He yelped as he held his chest. “Nothing,” he whined. “What was that for?”

Your brows furrowed, chest heaving and vein in your forehead pulsing as you feel yourself start to see red. “You! You almost got me arrested and made me run from the fucking police!”

Riki blinked, caught off guard by your rage. “Us. I almost got us arrested,” he corrected, hands raised in surrender. “Teamwork makes the felony, babe.”

Wrong answer.

You shoved him again.

“Are you joking right now?!” you snapped, voice sharp enough to cut through the night. “You think this is funny? I’ve spent my entire life trying to avoid shit like this, and you dragged me into it like it was a fucking side quest!”

He stumbled back a step but didn’t stop grinning, which only made your blood boil harder. “Okay, okay! Chill! I didn’t drag you—”

“You literally did and said trust you!”

“I meant it!” he protested. “And hey, we’re not in jail, are we? You kissed me, we got away, that’s a win.”

You stared at him like you were trying to set him on fire with your eyes alone.

“Oh my god, I should’ve let them arrest you,” you hissed, turning away to pace, hands flying to your head. “I should’ve said, ‘Yup, officer, that’s the guy, right there! Trespassing, being annoying, fuckass attitude!’”

“Guilty on all counts,” he said with a dramatic bow, still following your every move.

You stopped pacing. Your chest rose and fell in furious silence. “You think everything’s a joke. Like none of this matters.”

His smirk faltered for the first time.

“People die over shit like this—over shit way less than this—and you think this is fucking funny?”

Riki blinked. The playful spark that had lit his eyes the whole evening dimmed like someone had finally flipped the switch.

“I didn’t think it’d go that far,” he said, voice low and defensive.

You let out a dry laugh. “Wow. Not even an apology. That’s crazy.”

“You’re fine, aren’t you?” he shot back, arms lifting in some half-shrug, half-shield. “You made the jump. We’re not in cuffs. I figured you could handle it.”

“Oh, you figured.” You stepped forward, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I don’t know you. You dragged me up there like we were in a fucking movie, and I followed because—for some goddamn reason—I thought you knew what you were doing.”

Riki looked you up and down—less like he was checking you out now, and more like he was trying to piece you together. “So what, you kissed me and screamed at me in the same five minutes? You might be worse than me.”

You bristled. “Yeah? Well next time, maybe don’t nearly get a complete stranger arrested for thrills. You’re not charming. You’re a walking liability.”

And with that, you turned around and stormed off.

And he—stupidly, predictably—followed.

You stormed off, heels of your shoes hitting pavement like war drums—but apparently not loud enough to discourage the cockroach with good hair tailing behind you.

“Okay,” he called out casually, like you weren’t mid-rage, “but real quick—was the kiss, like, fake-fake? Or fake with feelings?”

You stopped. Turned. “Are you serious right now?”

He grinned, slowing to a walk beside you like this was just a post-date stroll and not a felony-adjacent escape. “Because I felt something. Like…chemistry. Heart palpitations. Internal fireworks. You know.”

“You’re about to feel a restraining order.”

“And yet you haven’t run again.” He gave a mock-swoon. “God, you’re into me.”

You groaned. Loudly. “What is wrong with you?”

“Only child. Coddled. Maybe a head injury or two.”

“I don’t even know your last name!”

“Nishimura.” He said it proudly. “And you’re gonna remember it, it might be yours soon. Who knows?”

You turned again to walk away. He followed.

“For real though,” he said, easily catching up. “What if we just…went out sometime? No cops, lore, full names exchanged and everything. I’ll even tell you my shoe size if you want.”

You didn’t even dignify it with an answer.

“Okay, okay, how about I make it up to you with coffee?” he added. “Or tea. Or a smoothie. Or a long heartfelt apology in the form of interpretive dance and slam poetry. I’m flexible.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m persistent,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”

You sped up, “Where is this even coming from?”

His voice hasn’t wavered, “Three minutes ago when you kissed me.” He matched your pace, “I can cook, by the way. I clean. I’m like, decently smart.”

You groaned, “If you were smart, you would leave me alone. Wait—how old are you?”

“Twenty one,” He said like he hit the jackpot, voicing it immediately and swiftly.

You blinked, “Ew. Nope. Too old.”

He furrowed his brows in worry, “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

Riki raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you’d just dropped a bomb on him. “Nineteen?!” He almost shouted, his arms flailing dramatically as if he’d just discovered you were a time traveler or something. “That’s barely even a gap! C’mon, you’re acting like I’m forty.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you almost gave yourself a headache. “Yeah, well, twenty-one feels ancient when I’m still figuring out how to survive college, Riki,” you shot back, not breaking your stride.

“Okay but, besides…what just happened I have a really good future ahead of me. I promise I’m not just some ruffian that likes to vandalize corporate buildings.” He strides widely, ensuring he’s beside you. “I go to Columbia, I major in Design and—”

You stopped, “Wait—where?”

He looked at you with furrowed brows, confusion residing heavily in his expression. He slowly spoke to you like you were five years old. “I said I go to Columbia University…”

That irritated you but you didn’t even care to acknowledge it. “No you don’t…” You said in disbelief. Heart beating rapidly as that weird shaking in your hands reignited.

“How are you gonna tell me—” He smacked his teeth as he reached into his pocket, showcasing a sleek black wallet. Then immediately handed you his student ID.

It was a picture of him, straight faced, again reminiscent of a model. His name and graduating year. Undeniably real. This sent you into a whirlwind. “What the fuck.”

“Do you think I’m not smart enough to be there or something? Because I know you—” You cut him off, putting your hand up as you looked at him. “I go to Columbia too.”

Riki blinked at you, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “No way,” he laughed, laughing as if you were Kevin Hart or Dave Chappelle and you just said the funniest thing in the entire world. “Columbia Law?”

You nodded, closing your eyes to mediate the aggravation and pure coincidence. “Yes,”

But he just slowly stopped laughing, a bright grin following immediately after. “I mean…this has to be fate, right? Some otherworldly, cosmic sign that we just have to know each other right?”

“Yeah, you lost me.” You brushed past him as you kept walking hurriedly to which he quickly followed right behind you.

“So I had you?”

“Never,” you shook your head and toyed with the straps on your backpack like you always did under pressure.

He jogged up to match your pace. “I mean, think about it. All the schools you could’ve picked. FIT, Parsons, NYU, Fordham, any of them.” He brushed his hair out of his face. “But somehow, someway, you bump into me in a random alley and we just so happen to be in a closer proximity than we thought. That means something, right?”

“Then how come I’ve never seen you around?” Which makes sense, people like him stand out more than anything. Tall, handsome, fit, the school wasn’t that big. I’m sure someone would’ve acknowledged the hot, art major somewhere and put him on Fizz.

He shrugged, “I come and go as I please,”

You scoffed, what a privileged asshole. “Okay…whatever that means.”

“But now I have a reason to go,”

You shot him a look. “Don’t make it weird.”

He grinned, unbothered. “Too late.”

You groaned, speeding up like walking faster could shake him off. But to no avail. “You’re literally insane.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I believe that. Like seriously,”

He tilted his head, smirking. “So what you’re saying is...you’ve been thinking about me?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “I’m still thinking about that restraining order.”

“That’s still thinking about me.”

You stopped walking so fast, your brain buffering. “You’re not serious.”

He shrugged again. “Only about the things that matter.”

You looked up at him, squinting like he was an overexposed camera flash. “And you think I matter?”

He didn’t answer right away. And you hated that. Hated the way his smile fell just slightly—like he was thinking. Actually thinking.

Then, way too softly for your comfort, he said, “I think you could.”

Your stomach did a weird thing. Like it tried to throw hands with your logic and then tapped out halfway through.

So you did what you do best—deflect. “Well, I think you’re lost.”

And just like that, his grin snapped back into place like muscle memory. “Nah. Found exactly what I was looking for.”

You sighed, “Okay,” you rub your forehead as if you could soothe your headache from the outside. “What do you want? Truly.”

His smile faltered a little, simmering into some sort of seriousness. “You.” He edged closer to you, looking at you with gentle eyes.

A part of you wanted to step back, to reject him further. But you couldn’t deny the feelings and attraction brewing between the two of you. So you didn’t step back, because you didn’t want the indirect mention of fate that Riki mentioned to be real. “I don’t know you.” You muttered with little confidence.

He smiled again, letting out a breathy laugh, shaking his head at your stubbornness. “You can get to know me. I promise, I’m not that bad.”

You shook your head, “Then what? What’s your big plan?” Shrugging at his flippant attitude.

He tilted his head like he was genuinely considering it, like this was a business pitch and not some unorthodox meet-cute. “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe we talk. Maybe we get dinner. Maybe you don’t call the cops on me—crazy idea, I know.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you saw your ancestors. “You’re not even trying to be normal about this.”

“What is normal? It’s a social construct,” he countered, hands waving around like what you said was nonsense. “Girl meets boy. Boy tries not to screw it up in under five minutes. I’m doing my best here.”

You let out a snort you tried (and failed) to muffle. “Your best involves mildly harassing me and romanticizing a chance encounter where you were literally spray painting a wall.”

“Technically,” he held up a finger, “you walked into my crime scene. I was minding my criminal business.”

You blinked at him. “Did you just say ‘my criminal business’?”

He nodded, “I did.” But he held his hands up, “But just give me a chance, please.” He looked around to assess where you two stood. It was already dark out as established, but there were still many people lingering in the streets. The cool weather breezing through your hair as if this were some postmodern, A24 film. The neon signs from the stores meddling about and casting a sensual glow on both of you, melting and simmering into your skin. “What time is it?”

Furrowing your brows, you tap around your jean pockets for your phone. Finally landing on it, you pull it out and read, “6:19 PM.”

He nodded firmly, getting straight to the point. “Give me until midnight.” His eyes looked into yours, a mix of desperation and anticipation. “Midnight, to show you that this wasn’t just some fluke.”

You stared at him, squinting like he’d just challenged you to a duel instead of whatever this was supposed to be. “Midnight?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed.

You blinked slowly. “Is this Cinderella? I’m so confused.”

“If you want it to be then, yes. It can be whatever you want. I can be whatever you want, just please. Give me the five and a half hours.” He nodded as stepped aside, pulling you out of the way of passersby and slightly bent down to plead.

“Oh my god.” You opened your mouth. Closed it. Rubbed your forehead again. This man was going to give you wrinkles. “And what exactly happens at midnight? The spell breaks? Do we forget this ever happened?”

He nodded, “We can. But if you don’t like me after then I will leave you alone. Even if I see you around campus I will walk past you like I never knew you if that’s what you wanted.”

You stared at him, trying to evaluate his expression and you didn’t track that smugness, that cocky smile that has been half of what you’ve been seeing for the last two hours. Just him, crouching down to meet your height in the middle of the sidewalk. “You’re so dramatic,” You shook your head with a small smile.

His ears perked up at the fact that he got you to smile. But he didn’t want to get overzealous. “I’m an artist,” he smiled. “Just don’t think too much into it.” He tilted his head, peering at you with gentle eyes. “Take the chance…five hours of your time.”

You stared at him for a beat too long, and maybe it was the mix of city noise and his hopeful expression—or the fact that he looked at you like the universe personally dropped you in front of him—but you felt your resolve falter.

“…Fine,” you muttered.

His face lit up. “Yes?”

You sighed with a nod, “Okay,” pointing at him firmly, “But don’t ask me to do anything.”

He put his hands up in defense, “Swear on everything I love, you won’t. All I’m asking you to do is be pretty.” He smiled, “But what do you wanna do?”

You waved your finger with a smile, “No, no, no. My job is to be pretty, not think. You’ve been hounding me for the last hour, buddy. My only request is nothing illegal.”

He clutched his chest like you’d just professed undying love. “You being pretty and funny? You’re trying to kill me.”

You gave him a look that was this close to amused. “Don’t push it.”

“Right, right,” he nodded solemnly, already walking backward like a man on a mission. “Nothing illegal. Got it. Which really narrows down, like, seventy percent of my plans.”

“You’re not helping your case,” you called after him.

He spun, walking forward now, ensuring you weren’t too far behind. Gratefully, you were now walking side by side. “Are you hungry?” He looked down at you, waiting for your answer.

Amazingly enough, your hunger was one of the contributing factors as to how you even ended up in the situation in the first place. The sudden need for a shortcut being how you ended up walking side-by-side the human form of mono. Easy to get apparently, but hard to get rid of.

But the adrenaline you were running off of had seemed to die down. And now that your body was exiting that fight or flight, it was like a trigger—his words. That you didn’t even remember being hungry until he asked. So as your stomach growled obnoxiously, probably being the loudest thing on the street—even above the cars. Without any thought you wrapped your arms around you, not even wanting to look him in the eye.

Riki smiled endearingly, “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He looked at you, gently asking. “Do you eat meat?”

You nodded, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk like maybe if you stared hard enough, it’d open up and swallow you whole. “Yeah,” you muttered, voice small.

“Cool,” he said, like you hadn’t just had your internal organs announce themselves to the world. “I know a spot.”

“Of course you do,” you mumbled, shooting him a side-eye.

He grinned, unbothered. “It’s not even sketchy this time, I swear.”

“‘This time,’” you mimic his words with a smile.

“I said what I said.”

You couldn’t help the huff of a laugh that escaped your nose. He caught that too, of course, but didn’t say anything. Just walked beside you with that infuriating little bounce in his step like he was winning some imaginary game you never agreed to play.

After a block or two, you turned a corner and the world cracked open with the smell of grilled meat, sweet and savory spices, and the unmistakable comfort of street food glory.

“Ta-da,” Riki said, gesturing grandly to a tiny halal cart lit by the glow of string lights and years of character. “Best lamb over rice in the city. You can fight me on that.”

“I’d rather fight you, just cause.” But as you scaled the cart, you noted the rust that crept onto metal signs and the near decrepit wheels and half-faded photos of food that were tacked to the vehicle. This cart was one more bowl away from breaking down and coming apart.

That’s how you knew this food was about to be the best you’ve ever tasted.

You gave him a blank look. “You really like the sound of your own voice, huh?”

“Almost as much as I like the sound of yours,” he shot back with a wink.

You looked away before he could catch the corners of your lips twitching upward again.

—

You walked beside him as he held the plastic bag with both of your guys’ food inside. Simply following his lead, “Do you wanna go on a picnic?”

Your brows furrowed at the request, “A picnic?”

Riki nods with a smile, “Yeah, I think I know just the place. Only mild trespassing, it’s abandoned. So does that count, Ms. Law Student?”

You deadpanned. “It absolutely still counts.”

“Legally?”

You snorted, “Legally. Morally. Every -ly you can think of.”

“Okay, okay.” He held his hands up again, that now-familiar ‘I’m charming please don’t arrest me’ gesture. “But if I told you it had one of the best skyline views in Manhattan and nobody around to ruin it—just you, me, and lamb over rice—would you consider turning a blind eye to justice?”

You squinted at him. “I’m tired of you and your felonies.”

“Technically it’s a misdemeanor.”

You blinked.

He grinned wider. “I looked it up. Once. While hiding.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then gave a long sigh that tasted a little too much like amusement. “Lead the way, Picasso.”

— New York City, West Village: circa 7:04 PM

The rest of the walk was quiet in the way only New York could be—horns in the distance, muffled chatter spilling from windows, and your footsteps synchronized like some kind of reluctant duet. When he led you around the back of an old building, pulling open a rusted side gate with the grace of someone who’s done this many times, you just sighed again and followed.

And as the two of you started the climb—graffiti-tagged stairs, occasional creaks and all—you realized you weren’t even thinking about the risk anymore.

Just the view at the top.

The rooftop door groaned open like it hadn’t been touched in years, and Riki held it for you like a gentleman and a menace all at once. The second you stepped out, the city greeted you—wind tugging at your hair, the buildings glowing like embers in a dying fire. The skyline stretched across the horizon like a living painting. A couple pigeons took off at your arrival like even they knew they weren’t cool enough to be here.

You took a slow breath. “Okay…wow.”

Riki didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled, letting the moment do the heavy lifting. Then he set down the bag of food, spreading out two of those obnoxious plastic bags like a makeshift blanket. “Your table, m’lady.”

You sat in butterfly position, trying to play it cool while your knees absolutely did not cooperate. As you took off your backpack, he handed you a container and a plastic fork, and the second you cracked the lid, the steam hit you in the face like a warm hug and a slap all at once.

“You’re gonna owe me when this changes your life,” he said between bites of his own plate.

“You’re real confident for someone who literally just admitted to mild trespassing.”

He grinned mid-chew. “Confidence is all I’ve got.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t argue.

After a few minutes of nothing but chewing and the sound of distant city life echoing up the building sides, Riki wiped his mouth with a napkin and tilted his head at you like he was switching gears. “So. Bronx girl, huh?”

You raised a brow. “How’d you know?”

“Your accent.” He pointed his fork at you. To which you drew back, “I don’t have an accent, you just hear funny.”

He shook his head with a smile, “No, you do. You say ‘lost’ like ‘law-st.’” He laughs, his mouth partially full as he covers it with his hand.

You threw a crumpled up napkin at him, “I do not! You loser.” Matching his laughter despite yourself. “I think I sound just like every other New Yorker if anything.”

“It’s cute,” He smiles as he takes a sip of his water bottle and lets the charged silence stew between you too. “So, which part?”

“Baychester,” you answered. “You?”

“Queens. Forest Hills.” He smiled. “But I went to high school in the Bronx for like, five minutes.”

You drew back but didn’t want to throw him off. Forest Hills is one of the wealthiest areas in Queens—probably New York in general. Knowing that there was a Whole Foods on almost every corner moves you, making you feel like you and him shouldn’t even be having this conversation. But if you’ve learned anything today, it’s that you never really know anyone. So you let it go, kept it in the back of your mind.

But you nodded slowly, chewing. “Explains a lot actually, which school?”

“Taft.”

“Oh God,” you laughed as you also covered your mouth. “I’m so sorry,”

William H. Taft High School wasn’t exactly terrible. But if there was chaos and extremely mild anarchy in a school it would be this one. Which—hindsight 20/20—makes a lot of sense for someone like Riki.

“Yeah, yeah,” Riki waved you off, dramatically wounded. “Laugh it up. I lasted, like, three fights and a lockdown before my mom yanked me out.”

“You fought?” you blinked, already knowing the answer.

He shrugged like it was Tuesday. “To be fair, only one was my fault. The second one was self-defense. The third was...well. Mysterious circumstances. That was early freshman year though, so it didn’t go on my record.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re the mysterious circumstances, aren’t you?”

“Guilty.” He grinned.

You shook your head, still smiling despite every part of you that knew better. There was something infuriatingly magnetic about him—like if hooliganism had a pretty face and nice hands.

“So, what about you?” he asked, voice quieter now. “Why law school? You trying to save the world or something?”

You poked at your food again. “Not the world. Just…my block.”

He laughed, “Okay, J-Lo.”

You reciprocated the laugh, lightly shoving his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up,” Leaning back to where you sat, crossing your legs in butterfly position as you stifled a laugh. “That’s not funny.”

Riki nodded, laughter diffusing. “It was funny,” but his eyes softened as he looked at you. “But why? Seriously.” He let his words hang warmly in the air, like this was the first real thing he’s gotten or even felt all night.

Your own laughter died down, finally leaning toward introspection. “Well…” you sighed, looking up in thought. “Seeing neighborhoods like these in Manhattan compared to the ones near me… The ones that generations of families grew up in, seeing how they slowly start to not become theirs anymore…infuriates me.”

Riki didn’t say anything, just let you speak as he digested your words. Nodding in understanding as he knew exactly the things you were speaking of.

“The Bronx is the only borough that has slowly resisted gentrification and walking through places like Greenwich Village and the Upper East Side upset me because…you see these gorgeous brownstones and high rise buildings. Then you turn the corner and there’s poverty, uncleanliness, liquor stores, weed dispensaries where they don’t need to be.” You went on, “The people that look like me are basically set up to be trapped in these hubs and red-lined areas so we can’t further our lives and only…prove them right.”

As Riki listened to you with intention, eyes never leaving you—his heart softened at the passion behind your eyes. The way you spoke so firmly—yet with care, about the world you lived in. But even as he listened he couldn’t help but develop more respect with each passing word. “And you don’t wanna prove them right…” He said softly.

You nodded, slowly. “Exactly. I want to make it out without selling out. I want to help people stay in the places that made them who they are. That raised them. That’s if they want to. But they shouldn’t be pushed out so…” You sighed, “housing law it is.”

Riki’s lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words yet. Instead, he just gave a small smile—gentler than any expression you’d seen on him all night. “That’s very admirable and I know I really don’t know you yet but…I’m proud of you.”

You glanced over at him, surprised by his sincerity. Face warming up as you looked down, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks…you?”

He huffed a laugh through his nose, tipping his head back for a second like he needed to stall. “Damn, I was seriously hoping you would make this all about you.”

You shook your head, “Don’t deflect, why do you do what you do?” You smiled, “And don’t say ‘because it’s fun’ or I’m kicking your ass off this roof.”

He looked at you sideways, considering, before shrugging slowly. “I just wanna create something that outlasts me.” He went into the bag to grab a huge, saran wrapped, chocolate chip cookie before he broke it in half and gave the rest to you. “I feel like…art has always been an escape for me. My parents have always instilled creativity into me and…there’s nothing more addictive than forcing people to see me.”

You got to understand him in a way. The way he looked at you with such gentleness and a smidge of desire. But it wasn’t demeaning, like he looked at you like you were something to be conquered. Rather something to explore out of curiosity, like not being told to touch that big red button in action movies.

“I firmly believe that if no one wants to hear you, make them listen. Whether it’s in a judicial chair, art on a wall, words on a page, screaming through your window, music, anything.” He says firmly, “I don’t like being silenced.”

You smiled, shoulders relaxing as you felt yourself become a little more comfortable in his presence. Which is something you’d never thought you might feel. “You sound like an anarchist.” She broke a piece of the gooey cookie and popped it in her mouth.

“I’ve had a couple ideas.” He nodded with a quirk of his brow. But something he said before had piqued your interest.

“Wait,” you tapped your knee with your fingers, trying to stir up a proper way to word this. “You said you got into a few fights in high school, right? Your freshman year?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he confirmed with a bitter smile. Remembering those days where his mom had to pick him up from school. Forcing him to hear lectures about how she didn’t come to the States for him to act like a dummy and blah blah, immigrant parent lectures, blah blah.

And you hated the stirring in the bottom of your stomach at hearing him call you ma’am but that’s not here nor there. “How did that not get on your record? I mean, Columbia’s pretty strict about shit like that.”

He adjusted himself as he pondered your question, taking his zip-up that was once tied around his hips to ball it up as a makeshift pillow. Groaning as he slowly reclined his body against the cold, empty stone of the rooftop. He shifted, getting comfortable and looking up at the star-polluted sky. “In case you can’t tell,” Riki looked over at you with that same cocky grin. “I can be very convincing.” He rested his hands on his stomach as he folded the cuffs of his sleeves over his large hands a little.

“And a little bit of a liar but this isn’t about me right now.” He waved off, “but I just really pleaded with them to expunge it. I was young, fourteen years old, bright future, blasè blah. That most of the fights were out of character and that I was having a hard time at home. Anything that was going to keep my very Japanese mother from killing me.”

You tilted your head in interest. “Were you?”

“What?”

You clarified, “Having a hard time at home?”

His grin faltered, not completely disappearing but definitely softening—melting into something smaller, something quieter.

He inhaled through his nose, exhaled slowly. “Yeah,” he said, voice lower now. “But not in the way they thought.”

You didn’t press him, just let the silence stretch as he looked back up at the sky like it might help him piece the words together.

“My parents...they love me. A lot. But they love me in that ‘you will succeed or else’ kinda way.” He gave a humorless chuckle. “I was dancing since I could walk, painting since I could hold a brush, and speaking three languages before middle school. And none of that ever felt like enough.”

Your brows furrowed, gaze softening. “That’s a lot.”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I didn’t even mind it, not at first. I liked being good at things. But somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t know who I was when I wasn’t performing. Like if I wasn’t impressive, I didn’t matter.”

You sat up a little straighter, the cookie in your hand forgotten. He wasn’t just opening up—he was unfolding.

“So when I started acting out, it wasn’t ‘cause I was angry or whatever. I just wanted to know what would happen if I wasn’t perfect for once.”

You smiled gently, “It wasn’t like you did too poorly. You’re attending one of the most respected and prestigious universities in the country.” You adjusted your legs as they started to tingle, signaling they were falling asleep. “That has to count for something.”

“It counts for everything.” His eyes glued to the sky, swearing he saw a shooting star zip over the moon. “I just knew that fucking around all of my life wasn’t going to really get me anywhere.” He shrugged, “I’m twenty-one. While I’m still young, my time for making dumb mistakes isn’t going to be forever unfortunately. Plus, I wasn’t going to let all of my hard work go down the drain like that, no way.”

You nodded, watching him carefully, understanding the weight of what he was saying. He had a self-awareness that was rare for someone his age, and it made you respect him more. You shifted on the rooftop, legs now crossed beneath you to stop the tingling from spreading.

“I get that,” you said, voice steady. “There’s always that balance between wanting to live and not wanting to screw up what you’ve worked for.” You paused, then added, “But you don’t have to be perfect to succeed. You’re allowed to stumble. We all are.”

Riki let out a slow breath, eyes still on the sky. “Yeah, but I don’t know if I really know how to stumble without completely falling apart.”

There was a slight vulnerability in his voice that he hadn’t shown before, and it made you feel like you’d just uncovered another layer of him—one he didn’t often let people see. You hesitated for a moment, then took a chance.

“Maybe you don’t have to know,” you said softly. “Maybe you just need someone to help you back up when you do.”

His gaze flicked to you then, meeting your eyes with a kind of quiet intensity. He didn’t respond right away, letting the words settle between you two. The air felt heavier suddenly, charged with something unspoken.

After a moment, he chuckled lightly, breaking the tension. “Yeah? So what, you’re gonna be my personal safety net, huh?”

You grinned, teasing. “Maybe. Depends on how many dumb mistakes you make.”

He raised an eyebrow, that cocky grin returning. “Well, you might be real busy then.”

The playful banter was back, and it felt like the pressure between you two had lifted just a little bit. But the look in his eyes, still holding yours, said something deeper lingered.

“Guess we’ll see,” you said, the words lighter, but the undertone carrying the weight of everything you hadn’t quite said yet.

Riki’s gaze softened again, but this time, it wasn’t for show. It was real. “You know,” he started, his voice quieter, “I never thought I’d actually...get along with someone like you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Someone like me? How so?”

His gaze shifted to something a little more playful, teasing. “I don’t know…since I met you, you just seemed so uptight like—”

You leaned up empty containers of food, swatting at his chest again. “I’m not uptight. You just caught me at a terrible time and had me run from the literal police.”

Riki nodded with a small smile, “Yeah? What else did I do…?” He smoothly grabbed your hand as you were leaning back. Leaving your palm burning in his grasp. You didn’t dare pull away.

“Then chased me down the street for me to go out with you.”

The glint in his eyes remained, toying with your fingers with the same hand. Eye contact never letting up. “Mhm, and now?”

You swallowed. The rooftop felt quieter than before. Maybe it was the way his thumb brushed the center of your palm—like he knew exactly what he was doing, but didn’t need to gloat about it.

“Now you’re annoying,” you said, voice a little breathier than you intended.

He huffed a laugh, head tilting just slightly as if he could see straight through your bravado. “You think I chased you down the street because I like bothering people?”

You raised your brow. “You don’t?”

Riki smiled at your jab. “Well…I meant what I said. After you kissed me, what I felt was…electric.” He let out a breathy laugh, but you didn’t know if it was for you or him. Just something a result of introspection. “And I just couldn’t let this go without seeing it through. Everything just feels so uncanny and…like a weird coincidence.” He adjusted himself again, still not letting go of your hand.

“Do you really believe in that stuff?” You tilted your head, curls falling in your face. “The whole fate, destiny thing?”

He laughed, something that you’ve been hearing a lot of recently. Not that there are any complaints. “No, that’s the thing. I don’t.” He turned his head back up to the stars. “But I do believe everything happens for a reason and—like,” Riki sat up, scooting a little closer to you. “Think about it. You just somehow decided to be in the alley I was in. Mind you, no one has ever seen or caught me ever. Then we find out that we go to the same school. When we kissed it felt like I was floating.” He rambled, grip on your hand tightening—but not enough to hurt you.

“So you’ve kissed strangers before?”

“Yeah,” his eyes flitted to the side with a nod, as if it was an obvious answer. But judging what we’ve seen of him thus far…of course he has. “But none of them have felt like this.”

“So, what’s your goal? We met three hours ago.”

Riki blinked once, twice. The kind of pause that held weight, not hesitation.

“Exactly,” he said, like that explained everything. “That’s how I know it’s real. Time doesn’t move normal when something actually matters.”

He leaned in just slightly, not close enough to kiss you—yet—but enough for you to feel it, the magnetism of someone who never did anything halfway. His voice dropped just a bit lower, like it was only meant for you to hear.

“My goal?” He repeated your question, rolling it over like he was tasting it. “To find out what this is. Between us. Even if it’s just for tonight, or a week, or whatever. But I’m not gonna pretend like I don’t feel this. And I don’t wanna bullshit you and say I’m some perfect guy—I’m not.” He offered a small shrug, thumb brushing over your knuckle again. “But I’m not gonna disappear tomorrow, either. If you let me stay.”

You stared at him. Hard. Trying to find the catch. The trick. The usual posturing that guys with smirks like his tend to carry like armor.

But there wasn’t any. Just warmth. Just honesty, tinged with mischief, but solid underneath. And that scared you more than if he’d lied.

“Don’t fall in love with me,” you whispered, half-joking, half-dead serious.

He grinned slowly, devilish. “I already told you,” he murmured, that damn twinkle in his eye again, “you kissed me first.”

The tension held thick in the air, humming like static between your bodies.

Neither of you spoke.

You weren’t even sure you were breathing properly—not with the way Riki was looking at you, like you were something tender and wild all at once. His hand was still curled around yours, steady and warm, like he had no plans of letting go unless you made him.

Your heart pounded so hard you swore he could hear it, but he didn’t comment. Just kept his gaze locked on yours, like he was memorizing the moment. Like he’d already written about it in one of his sketchbooks and was just checking to see if he got the shading of your eyes right.

His thumb skimmed over your pulse again.

The rooftop, the city, the stars—none of it felt real. Only him. Only this.

You swallowed again. That same ache curling low in your stomach, the kind that had less to do with lust and more to do with want. Pure want. Dangerous want.

And then, before anything could tumble out of your mouth that you couldn’t take back, you inhaled sharply and broke the spell.

“So,” you blurted, sitting up straighter, “where are we off to next, Houdini?”

Riki blinked. A beat passed. Then he snorted, full and bright.

“Wow,” he said, letting go of your hand just to shove his own through his hair. “That was smooth. Really killed the moment.”

You smirked, grabbing your water bottle to hide the way your hand was shaking just a little. “Yeah, well. Consider it payback for the ‘uptight’ comment.”

He tilted his head, considering you with a grin that said fair enough. “Okay, well I have some place I wanna show you.” He grabbed a plastic bag to toss the discarded containers in. Even he was decent enough to not litter. You followed suit, grabbing the water bottles and napkins as he held open the bag.

“Is it legal?”

He frowned, “Tragically, yes.”

“Bless your heart.”

— New York City, Upper Manhattan, 116th and Broadway. Columbia University. Circa 8:49 PM

It turned out to be the campus library.

But not the front-facing, normal-people part.

You followed him past the security doors (seeing him type in a few numbers), up two staircases, down a back hallway that smelled like dust and vanilla extract, and into a tucked-away room you didn’t even know existed. No fluorescent lights. Just floor-to-ceiling windows, shelves lined with old poetry books, and a pair of velvet chairs facing a skylight.

You blinked. “Is this…the Rare Books Room?”

Riki turned, that smug glint in his eye fully engaged now. “Mmhmm. Closed to the public after 8. But I may or may not have flirted my way into a key code once.”

You crossed your arms, trying not to look impressed. “All that effort…for books?”

He plopped into one of the chairs and looked up at you. “Nah. For moments like this.”

And suddenly, the silence wasn’t awkward—it was loaded. Safe. Special. Like you’d stepped into a pocket of the night that didn’t exist for anyone else but the two of you.

“Pick something,” he said, nodding toward the poetry shelf. “Read to me.”

You blinked again, thrown off. “You want me to read you poetry?”

“No,” he said, leaning back with a grin. “I want you to let your guard down. But we can start with poetry.”

Surprisingly enough, you hadn’t started to feel nervous until now. Slightly overwhelmed with the array of literature to choose from, but also the guy that was looking at you with a mixture of anticipation and kindness. It seemed that he could never look at you in one way. Nothing ever seemed simple with Riki and a part of you liked the dichotomy. “Which one do I pick?” Your eyes scanned the hardly lit room, the moon being your only source of light.

“Any one. I’m not picky.” He said softly as you gave a small shrug.

You hesitated. The weight of the shelves full of words pressed down on you like an invisible hand. It wasn’t so much the pressure of picking a poem—it was more the pressure of picking the right one in front of him. The one that wouldn’t feel like you were exposing too much.

Riki was watching you closely, his gaze softening as he waited for you to pick something, anything. His eyes never left you, like he was giving you space but also asking you to take the leap.

You ran your fingers over a book spine, feeling the edges of each title like a string of lifelines. Finally, your hand brushed over the weathered cover of one particular collection. “This one,” you said, more to yourself than to him, your voice a little unsure.

You opened the book and began reading softly, the words spilling out into the room, the only sound between the two of you. You could feel Riki’s attention on you with every line you read, his gaze never straying.

“Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherized upon a table; Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets…”

It felt strange reading something so melancholy in this space, in this moment. But somehow, it fit. You didn’t glance up at Riki as you spoke, but you could feel him absorbing each word as if it were more than just poetry—it was a conversation without speaking.

The words felt strange on your tongue at first. But with each verse, something softened. Your voice steadied. You wandered a few steps forward, eyes glued to the page, trying to find a rhythm. But the poetry filled the silence like it belonged there, like it had been waiting in the wings this whole time.

“The muttering retreats Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels…”

You were only vaguely aware that Riki hadn’t moved. That he was still sitting in the chair, slightly manspread like some museum exhibit of patience. His expression was unreadable, except for the way his eyes didn’t leave you.

You took another step, and then another. And before you could register what was happening, his hands found your waist.

He didn’t say anything. Just gently guided you down until you were sitting on his lap, your back to his chest, the book still open in your hands like nothing had changed.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you didn’t stop reading.

“…And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:Streets that follow like a tedious argumentOf insidious intent…”

His breath was steady against your shoulder as he eyed the book now. Warm. His arms rested around you without pressure, like he didn’t want to startle you out of the moment. Like he knew you needed this stillness more than anything.

“For I have known them all already, known them all:Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;I know the voices dying with a dying fallBeneath the music from a farther room.So how should I presume?”

You weren’t sure when the words stopped being just a poem.

And started being the way he listened to you.

You read the final lines slowly, like they were something sacred. Like they were the last thing tethering you to the ground.

“We have lingered in the chambers of the seaBy sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brownTill human voices wake us, and we drown.”

The silence that followed was deafening in the best way.

You finally lowered the book, your hands settling in your lap. His arms were still around you, and you could feel the way his chest rose and fell beneath you—steady, like he was trying not to startle the moment. Like if he moved too fast, it would all dissolve. That he would ruin all of it.

You turned your head slightly. His face was close. Closer than you remembered. Closer than you expected. But there was no rush in his eyes. Just that same impossible softness.

And then—quietly, slowly—he leaned in.

You met him halfway.

There wasn’t anything dramatic about it. No breathy gasps or hurried hands. Just his mouth brushing yours with such care it almost didn’t feel real. Like he was making sure you had every chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

You deepened it first.

It wasn’t perfect. Your noses bumped a little. Your hands weren’t sure where to go at first. But it was real. And warm. And—God—it lingered.

You hated the fact that you now understood the electricity that Riki was talking about. Fortunately, he didn’t take advantage. He took everything you were giving him without being overzealous.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your jaw. Tracing your cheek with his thumb as he slowly threaded his lips with yours. Like a puzzle piece, it just fit so perfectly. So naturally.

This wasn’t your first kiss, but it felt like what it should’ve. Not awkwardly, poorly timed, two young teens unsure of what to do but just trying to make something out of it anyway. However, this didn’t feel as such. This felt sure; sure, that the guy you were kissing actually knew what he was doing and was more than happy to guide you. So he did.

The hand that was on your jaw moved to your bicep to guide your arm up. This way your hand rested on his shoulder, he didn’t want to push you or take advantage of the moment and you were grateful for that. But now it seemed less like he was kissing you. More like you were kissing each other. You moved your hand to the side of his neck to deepen the kiss.

Riki subconsciously smiled into the exchange, taking this as a sign that you were just as into this as he was. His hands mindlessly drift to your fluffy curls, which he seemed to do the last time. Savoring the texture in his hands as if he wasn’t ever going to feel it again. Bunching them in his hand gently as he ran his hand down your head and played with a singular curl at the ends.

His silver hair was surprisingly soft considering what it took to get it there. Since he was playing in your hair, you had no problem indulging in his either. And wasn’t ever going to pull away, he didn’t want this to end. But it had to. So just as you pulled back:

“See,” he murmured, voice roughened by something too intimate to name. “Told you this wasn’t just a coincidence.” He rested his forehead on yours as he gently—ever so slightly—let his index finger graze your lips.

“You know what’s crazy,”

“What?”

You sighed, whispering into the solemnity of the room. “I didn’t even pick this on purpose.”

“And you kept doubting me.” He nuzzled his nose into yours with a smile. “I’m starting to think that I have a great intuition.” Riki’s smile brightened as his fingers tightened, bunching around the fabric of your hoodie.

You let yourself lean into a bit, finally letting yourself smile without restrictions. “I think so too.” Sighing, “But what time is it?”

His eyes found the analog clock on the wall in front of your conjoined bodies. Squinting lightly to read it within the dim room. Luckily, the moonlight hit it just perfectly—letting him be able to read: “9:30.” He stroked your cheek as he peered into your eyes. The mixed perceptions of his now soloing into one: kindness. “Two and half hours left. Are you done for the night?”

A part of you was overwhelmed at the thought that this seemingly magical night was coming to an end. The other was happy to make the most of it and now you were all in, and fully ready to adhere to Riki’s impulsivity for the next couple of hours finally.

You shook your head in thought, “No, I’m…not really in any rush to get home. Plus Uber’s cost at least thirty-five dollars and that’s not something I wanna spend money on when I can just catch the train.”

“Yeah, I’m not letting you take the subway this late.” He furrowed his brows as if what you said was ridiculous—which it was.

“No, no! I don’t wanna take it now. That’s insane.”

He brushed his hand over the back of your head, into your hair. “I can get you an Uber if you want. It’s not a big deal.”

You sigh, “No, I have no way to pay you ba—”

“You don’t have to. I’ll eat the money if it means you’re safe. Plus I dragged you out here, the least I can do is get you home—make sure you get home.” He kissed your cheek gently, now taking full advantage of the proximity between you two. Taking in your scent like it was intoxicating, like his kryptonite.

“I don’t want to go home.”

He froze a little, his heart dropping—not in panic, but in that weird way when someone says something so real you forget how to breathe for a second.

You weren’t looking at him. You were staring at the shadows moving along the far wall, like saying it out loud made it too fragile to face.

“I don’t want to go home,” you repeated, quieter this time. “Just…not yet.”

Riki didn’t ask why. He didn’t press. He just nodded like he understood more than you knew how to explain.

“Okay,” he said. Soft. Sure.

He sat up a little, arms still loosely around you. “Wanna go somewhere else? We don’t have to do anything crazy. I just—” He scratched the back of his neck. “I just don’t want this to end either.”

You finally turned to look at him. His silver hair caught the moonlight, soft and out of place in the best way. There was no smirk this time. Just that sincerity again. That stillness.

“Where would we even go?” you asked.

He blinked once. Twice. Then smiled.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I could make an irresponsible financial decision.”

You snorted. “What does that even mean?”

“Come with me and find out,” he said, tapping your arm for you to stand and you do. Riki stands with a dramatic groan and gives you his hand. “I know this is a bit overused today but…trust me.”

— New York City, Upper Manhattan, 242 West 76th St. The Wallace Hotel, Circa 10:09 PM

He paused right outside the glass doors of the hotel, hoodie pulled low like he was ducking paparazzi.

“Okay, real quick,” he said, turning to you with a deadly serious expression that had no business being this funny. “I need you to do me a solid.”

You blinked. “Are you about to propose a drug deal right now?”

“I wish,” he muttered dramatically, glancing behind him like someone was watching. “Nah, I just—can you check us in?”

“…Check us in?”

“Yeah. Use your ID. I’ll pay for everything, I just—” he glanced left and right again. “I can’t put my name down.”

You stared. “Why? Are you literally wanted by the NYPD?”

He threw his hands up. “Technically, no. But like…do I want my name on file the same night I accidentally fled a crime scene? Also no.”

“Riki,” you said, holding back a laugh. “You did graffiti.”

“Which, in the eyes of the law, is vandalism,” he countered, finger raised like a professor. “And also, I left my bag there. It’s got, like, three cans and a half-eaten bag of Hot Cheetos. I’m practically breadcrumbing.”

You burst out laughing. “You’re not a fugitive, bro.”

“Yet,” he said ominously.

You rolled your eyes but pulled out your wallet anyway. “Fine. But if I get flagged for being your accomplice, I’m putting paws on you.”

He beamed as he handed you a thick wad of cash from his wallet. “That’s my girl.” You took it with reluctance.

You shook your head as he pulled open the door for you with a little bow. “Alright, let’s check in before your Hot Cheetos turn state’s evidence.”

—

The lobby was dimly lit and upscale in that “broke people should never laugh” kind of way. You stuck close to Riki, eyes flicking toward the front desk. He didn’t look even slightly nervous. If anything, he looked like he belonged here—hoodie, smirk, and all.

He approached the concierge with the kind of swagger that made you want to check if his sneakers were levitating.

“Good evening,” he said, smooth as silk. “Just one room for the night. Something quiet, if you’ve got it.”

The concierge gave a slow nod, clearly clocking the late hour, your backpack, and the ridiculous amount of chemistry floating between you two like fog. “Name on the reservation?”

“No reservation,” he replied easily. “But she’ll be checking in.” He gave you a quick glance, then looked back at the woman behind the counter.

The concierge hesitated. “I’ll need to see her identification, then.”

You slid yours over. Riki didn’t even flinch. He just leaned one arm on the counter, watching you calmly, like you’d done this a hundred times before.

“And how many keys?” she asked.

Riki didn’t even glance at you this time. “One’s fine.”

You raised an eyebrow. “One?”

He smirked. “Unless you plan on locking me out.”

The concierge paused typing and definitely had to stop herself from smirking too. She slid the keycard across the desk.

Riki took it with a quiet, “Thanks,” and then gently steered you toward the elevators, hand low on your back.

The second you stepped inside and the doors closed, he exhaled. “See? Easy.”

You side-eyed him. “You’re way too good at that.”

He gave a half-smile. “Nah. You make it easy to play it cool.”

—

You two padded down the exquisite hallway, covered with stunning floral wallpapers. The coloring wasn’t abrasive nor was it too subtle to where you misjudged its luxury. Riki held the key card though and you scanned the numbers on the doors:

501…

502…

Yes! 503.

You jut out your hand, just in time to stop the tall man from going further. He stopped and turned, letting out a quiet “Oh…” before opening the door.

You didn’t even have time to comment before you were taken aback by the space you stepped into. It was average sized, nothing too crazy but you didn’t even care. It was for less than a day and it wasn’t like you needed Daddy Warbucks’ mansion to be able to sleep.

But it was so modern and sleek, the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling not those dramatic ones. Though those are beautiful, there was something so cute and kind of chic about it. The two bathrooms. Then the bed. The bed was where your attention landed and absolutely refused to leave. King-sized. Crisp white sheets. Pillows stacked like luxury clouds. It looked like it cost more than your monthly rent. You caught yourself staring too long and quickly turned away like you didn’t just imagine a soft place to collapse after a day of accidental vandalism and heart palpitations.

Riki shut the door behind you with a soft click. He stood still for a second, scanning the room with a thoughtful nod.

“I feel like I should apologize for how suspicious that check-in was,” he murmured, tossing the keycard onto the nearby table. “But I kinda nailed it, right?”

You snorted. “You didn’t really have to do that, but I guess you did a decent job.”

He shrugged off his hoodie and kicked off his shoes, flopping onto the end of the bed like he owned the place. “You’re welcome for the free luxury experience.”

You dropped your backpack onto the chair, slowly lowering yourself onto the opposite side of the bed. The mattress gave slightly under your weight, as if inviting you to sink deeper. “This place is nice.”

“You deserve nice,” he said casually, and it would've felt light if he hadn’t looked at you like that—like he meant it.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, toeing off your sneakers. “You’re really leaning into the whole charming fugitive thing, huh?”

Riki smiled, that same lowkey one that made your chest tight. “Crime’s my love language.”

You laughed—too loud for a place this expensive—and flopped onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.

There was a beat of silence before he asked, voice a bit softer now, “So…what happens now?”

You turned your head toward him. “You tell me, Picasso. I’m just following your lead.”

He leaned in slightly, propping his head up on his hand. “Then let me ask you something important.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Do you want to watch trash TV and eat overpriced snacks from the mini bar...or do you wanna talk about how weirdly perfect this night has been?”

A small smile crept onto your lips. “Can we do both?”

“You’re going to ruin my life, I fear.” He mirrored your smile as he cupped your jaw.

You let out a small laugh, “Says the guy that dragged me into a police chase.”

“And it’s crazy because…I want so desperately to say sorry to you and feel bad. And I do feel bad, for putting you through that emotional distress, so I’m sorry. Sincerely, but I don’t feel bad for what it’s gotten me thus far.” He professed under the warm lighting of the hotel, probably the most flattering he’s looked all day. But he’s looked amazing even in the shitty lighting of the alley so that’s not saying much.

You cleared your throat before your brain could spiral deeper into that thought. “Okay, I hate to ruin the moment,” you murmured, sitting up, “but I really want to shower.”

He blinked. “You—huh?”

“Huh?” You mocked him but then laughed to yourself. “I feel grimy, Riki. Like, totally disgusting.”

He laughed. “Fair. But…you don’t have clothes.”

You raised an eyebrow, already halfway off the bed. “Wrong. This is another very crucial thing to know about me.”

You grabbed your backpack and unzipped a side pocket with dramatic flair, pulling out a little pouch like it was Excalibur. “Behold—pads, tampons, toothpaste, deodorant, toothbrush, and emergency underwear.”

He stared, impressed. “You’re actually…cool as fuck.”

“I know right.” You smirked, holding it up like a badge of honor. “All one ever really needs is a fresh pair of underwear.” You shrug.

“So what are you gonna wear when you get out?”

You firmly stand and stretch, “I’ll just wear a robe to bed.” You walk to the bathroom cavalierly, smiling as you scan the shiny bathroom and open the shower door to turn on the water. “There’s only one robe though.” You call out.

Riki walks to the bathroom and leans against the doorframe, watching you with interest as usual. “I’ll just call downstairs and have them bring one up, or I’ll go down to get one. Whichever works.” He hands you a towel and washcloth that sat on a shelf below the sink.

You take it with both hands as you look up at him, eyes full of warmth. “Thanks,”

He nodded as he stepped to you with ease, “No problem, gorgeous.” Tilting his head, “It’s just a towel,”

“No,” you shake your head. “Thanks for just…not being the shitty person I thought you were. In some weird way, you’ve brought me out of my comfort zone and even though it has been a bit much. Still…” You look up in thought as Riki stares at you, no pressure behind his gaze but encouragement. Like he was just waiting for you to get where he needed you to be.

“This has been one of the best days of my life and I have no one but you to thank for that.”

Riki’s expression didn’t shift much—but his eyes did. They softened in that distinct way only he could manage. Like he was keeping a hundred things behind them and choosing, deliberately, to just show you the one that mattered.

“I’m really glad you didn’t run off when you had the chance,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter, the kind of quiet that sticks in your chest.

You laughed softly, glancing at the now-steaming shower behind you. “You kidding? I almost did. Like five times. You’re exhausting.”

He grinned, stepping back toward the door. “I know. I’m an acquired taste.”

“I expect you to be done when I am,” you called after him as he slipped out.

“Your wish is my command, I live to please you.” he said, blowing you a kiss before the door clicked shut.

The shower was warm. Hot, even. Not just temperature-wise, but the kind of hot that made your thoughts swirl a little. Like the water was washing off more than just grime—maybe a little bit of fear, a little bit of doubt. You let it.

By the time you stepped out, towel-wrapped and robe-draped, the room had dimmed a little. Riki had turned off the overheads, leaving only a lamp by the bed casting a soft amber hue across the room. He was lounging at the edge of the bed in a now-matching robe, legs sprawled, flipping through channels on the TV like this wasn’t the weirdest, best night ever.

His head turned as you walked out, and he stared.

Not in a creepy way. Not in a wow hot girl in towel alert way either. In a stunned, slow-lidded, maybe-a-little-speechless way.

“You got your robe,” you said, padding over to your bag to stash your used clothes.

“Mm,” he hummed, eyes following you. “Had to charm the concierge.”

You snorted. “I swear you’re gonna get banned from like…every Manhattan hotel.”

“That’s okay.” He grinned. “We’ll just start hitting Brooklyn.”

You gave him a mock bow. “Your criminal empire awaits.”

He laughed—really laughed. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made his whole chest shake.

Then he patted the spot next to him. “C’mon. Snacks and garbage TV. Your choice.”

You flopped beside him with a satisfied groan. “If they got 90 Day Fiancé on here, I swear—”

Riki tossed you a chocolate bar from the minibar. “We’re watching people ruin their lives together. Very on brand if you ask me.”

You slipped under the thick duvet and scooted closer to him. “Pass the remote, please.”

He did without a word and moved his arm behind you to bring you closer to his chest. His scent clouding your senses, taking in the sweet smell of the hotel soap. A lavender soap and the matching lotion mixed so well with his body chemistry, making you hesitantly poke your face into his neck.

He jumped back a bit with a laugh, “What are you doing, weirdo?” He says playfully, but his words contrast his actions as he’s pulling you closer. Nearly on top of him.

“Nothing,” you pull back and face the TV and flip through the options. “You just smell nice, I like lavender on you.”

Riki smiles as he stroked your robe-covered thigh, testing the waters and sliding his fingertips under the cloth—just barely. “Duly noted,”

— New York City, Upper Manhattan, 242 West 76th St. The Wallace Hotel, Circa 11:10 PM

The TV was still on, but neither of you were watching.

At some point, the half-eaten snacks were left to the side, and you both shifted down, bodies facing each other under the plush hotel duvet. The lights were off—completely this time—just the low, flickering glow of the TV playing muted chaos across the room. But your eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, and all you could see now was him.

Riki. Inches away. Head resting on the pillow, hair slightly tousled, lips parted like he was mid-thought.

You blinked slowly, barely breathing. “What are you thinking about?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze scanned your face, gentle and a little too knowing.

“Whatever you’re thinking about,” he said, voice hushed.

You smiled, but it was small—honest. “That’s such a cop-out.”

He shrugged, face still close enough that his breath tickled your skin. “It’s the truth.”

You shifted a little closer, like your body made the decision before your brain could. “Okay. Then what do you think I’m thinking about?”

He let the silence stretch for a moment, a soft exhale escaping his nose. “I think you’re wondering if this...us…if this is just some weird blip. Like a temporary high.”

Your eyes searched for his own in the dark. “And is it?”

He swallowed, barely noticeable. His hand moved slowly between you, fingers brushing against yours like he was asking for permission to say what came next.

“I don’t want it to be,” he said. “I think this is the first thing that’s felt real in a long time.”

Your heart thudded, loud enough that you were pretty sure he could hear it too.

“I was thinking something similar,” you whispered, like saying it louder might shatter it.

You both stared at each other again, and that stretch of silence that followed didn’t feel empty. It felt full. Heavy with everything neither of you were saying. Warm with things you didn't know how to name yet.

Riki’s fingers finally laced with yours under the covers.

And then he said it. Soft. Stupidly soft.

“I don’t think you ruined my life.”

You tilted your head, barely smiling. “Yeah?”

“I think you might’ve saved it a little.”

Neither of you said anything after that. You didn’t have to.

You just stayed there. Still. Quiet. Staring.

Letting the warmth between you speak louder than anything else. But you just couldn’t let it be still. You couldn’t just be in this moment, feeling every single thing in every square inch of your body and be still.

For once, you wanted to take a page out of Riki’s book.

Mirroring your prior actions, you lean in swiftly to plant your lips onto his. Almost as if you were fearless of this outcome, and you were.

He responded instantly, resting his hand on your cheek as he tenderly ravished your lips. The kiss was calm, both of your heads lying against the pillow, just lazy. Quietly, chastely hearing the smacking of your lips in the nearly silent room.

The calmness felt like a haze, like you were meant to do this. Just to be here, with him until you couldn’t anymore. But you just wanted more, a part of you yearned for more. So you pulled back slowly, resting your hand on his own cheek. Gently stroking it and letting the illumination from the TV cast a varying glow on his face.

You pecked his lips one time before hesitantly moving to his neck. Letting the tingling in your body control you more than you thought it ever could. As you continue your ministrations, you could feel the clenching in his body as he tries not to react. Like he’s trying to act like he’s not affected by you being this close to him. Pulling back again, you look at him. “Are you okay?”

Riki nods, “Yeah,” he rests his hand on your waist. “I just…I don’t want us to ruin it.” He says tenderly, like he was afraid to hurt you.

“You think we’ll ruin it?” You hesitated—something you’ve been doing a lot in the last few minutes. Maybe you hadn’t been as much like him as you thought. “Are you—do you not see me like that?”

Urgently, he shook his head. “No. Wait—no I—I mean.” Riki sat up, turning on the bedside lamp so he could look you in the eye. His eyes and lips were slightly puffy from impending slumber and earlier activities. “I do want you, and see you like that. I just don’t want this to be ruined by one night of lust. Because I genuinely like you.”

You nodded in understanding, “I get it. But…I just want to…can I be honest with you?” Your eyes looked down at the pillow as you adjusted your robe beneath the covers.

“Of course you can, baby.” He strokes your cheek in earnest.

You sighed, looking at him. “No guy has really…liked me before.”

Riki blinked. “What?”

You smiled a little, embarrassed but trying to keep it together. “Not really. They’ve wanted me. Or they liked the idea of me. But no one’s actually liked me. Not like you do.”

There was a moment of silence—soft, heavy silence that made your heart race.

Then Riki tilted his head like he was trying to get a better view of your soul. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, voice low but full of fire. “You’re beyond likeable.”

You let out a breathy laugh, half in disbelief. “Riki—”

“No, I’m serious.” He leaned closer, his palm still warm on your cheek. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re absolutely gorgeous, stunning. You’re interesting. You challenge me, which, by the way, is annoying, but I love it. And you’ve got this look when you’re thinking real hard—like right now—where your eyebrows do this thing…” He reached out and lightly traced your brow with his thumb.

You were speechless. The kind of silence where your whole chest aches a little, because someone just said something that wrapped around a wound you didn’t know was still bleeding.

“So yeah,” he whispered. “I like you. I like you more than I probably should. And if this is you trying to run from that by kissing me until we forget it—I’ll let you, because I like the way you kiss.” He smiled gently. “But just know I’ll still like you tomorrow. And the day after that. Even if we never do anything ever.”

Your throat tightened, your eyes hot in that way they get when someone sees you too clearly. “And I’m not really an impulsive person but I just really want this. But I don’t want to make it seem like I’m trying to convince you to want to have sex with me.”

“You don’t have to convince, babe. I will have sex with you.” He nodded calmly. “I just like you enough to consider how you’ll feel after. I just want you to be sure. That if we do this then we don’t regret it right after.”

“I won’t. And I know I won’t because I know that if it felt right in the moment then it wasn’t a mistake. Especially when you’re the first person to make me feel like this.” I grab his hand from my waist and hold it to my heart. “I want my first time to be with someone like you.”

Riki blinked. “You’re a virgin?”

You nodded slowly, feeling suddenly so small under the glow of the bedside lamp. Like the confession shrunk you.

“I mean, not like...because I didn’t want to ever. Just that it never felt right. And with you, it just...does.”

He sat back, eyes widening just a fraction—not in surprise, but in recognition. Like something about you just clicked into place. Then, after a beat of silence, he smiled softly and whispered: “Well. I’m honored.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, but your chest still ached. “I just didn’t want that to make this weird.”

“It’s not weird,” he said instantly. “You’re not weird. You’re...you’re incredible.” He took your hand from where it rested on your heart and pressed it to his lips. “But thank you for telling me.”

You searched his face. “Are you sure you still want to?”

Riki nodded, “Yes, I want to. Only if you’re sure.”

Nodding firmly, “Totally sure, a bit nervous—but sure.”

He stood and went into his jean pocket for his wallet, pulling out two condoms then placed it on the bedside table. Then went onto the bed back next to you. “Nervousness is normal.” He kissed your cheek gently. “But at any point if you wanna stop, tell me. I’m not kidding, okay?”

“Okay.”

He nipped at your neck skillfully. “It might hurt a little, and that’s normal. But I’ll go slow…slower than slow.” He smiled into your neck as he traced his hand down the lapel of your robe. “Can I open this?”

You nodded, eyes low and chest slightly heaving. “Yes, please.”

Without untying the belt, he opened the neckline and revealed your tits. You shivered at the cool air of the room hitting your bare body. He continues kissing your neck and raises his hand but stops himself. “Can I touch you?”

You nod, “Yes, anything. Please. Just don’t stop. Do anything you want—” Chest heaving, vision blurry and he’s barely touched you. You’re just overcome with anticipation that you don’t even care what he does anymore. You just want him.

He places his hand over your tit carefully as he massages it, eliciting a quiet moan from you. His lips track from your neck to your chest, kissing the valley of your breasts as his left hand is still holding your tit. “Isn’t this so perfect already?” He kissed just above your stomach. “Your beautiful body, your tits fit so perfectly in my hands. Like you were made just for me.” He leaned, still leaning on his side next to you, and swirled his tongue around your nipple.

Watching your back arch off of the bed he smiles, clearly enjoying the pleasure he was giving you. But he didn’t stop, he latched his lips around it and gently sucked, at this point flicking your other nipple with his other hand.

Your heart is in your stomach and you feel nothing but his warmth, the muscle on your breast and its wetness. And even with the warmth, it feels like heat. Like fire, spreading through your body just like it was earlier when you were close to him. But now the heat moved to your core and it was pooling into the underwear you had on.

He released your tit from his mouth quietly, a string of saliva still between and his lips still puffy—appearing thicker than they already were. At this, you had a reaction beside yourself and clenched your legs closed. A stinging, aching feeling between your legs that signified that you needed something from him now. You didn’t want to be overzealous or greedy; but it seemed like he knew what he was doing. Or like he knew you. “You want more from me?”

“Mhm, I do.” Your brows furrowed in discomfort. “Please touch me.”

He smiled as he kissed your lips, “You want me to touch you? Give your pretty pussy some attention? Give you a little taste before you get what you’ve been waiting for? My gorgeous girl. Is that what my baby wants?”

You whined, his words going straight down to your core. Only making the blood rush even worse. “Please,”

He untied your robe finally and looked down to see that your underwear was on. He laughed quietly, “Why do you have these on?”

Shrugging, unsure how to answer that question. “I–I just didn’t want her to be out. In case I slept weird or something. Didn’t wanna flash you.”

Riki nods, “I think I’m the last person that would care about you flashing me. But I get it.” He slowly runs his hand down your stomach, smiling as he lightly squeezed the pudge on your sides. “Can you take them off for me, please?”

You lift your hips as you slide them off and let them fall to the carpeted floor. Now you laid barren, fully exposed, only the robe on your arms. You watched as his eyes scanned you attentively, like he was trying to remember every last inch of you. But when his eyes laid on your pussy, you subconsciously threw the robe over it—afraid that he would judge you. “Sorry…I haven’t shaved—”

Riki smacked his teeth as he moved the robe back. “I don’t give a fuck about shit like that. Hair ain’t never stopped me.” He laughed as he traced his fingers down your slit.

“Are you sure? We can sto—”

He shook his head, “Relax…I know this is a very vulnerable position you’re in and you want this to be perfect but I like you. I like this. Hair is not a big deal, I don’t care about it. I like women.” He nodded, “I actually prefer a little hair, it’s hot.” Riki didn’t even wait for a response before he slipped one finger into your soaking wet folds.

You gasped at the sensation, not knowing what to do with your hands. Instead, one hand gripped onto the ivory sheets and the other balled in a fist. Riki smiled kindly at this, “It’s okay…relax. Come here, let’s try this.” He sat up, leaning his back against the headboard. Then he parted his legs and patted the space. You, still stuck for words but nonetheless compliant.

As soon as you sat down, back against his chest as he sighed of relief. “You got it, all you have to do is relax. Touch me how you want, this is all for you, my love.” He kissed your shoulder as he caressed your stomach and slipped his finger down to your core. “You’re so wet, is this all for me?” He gently, slowly, brushed his finger along your clit, eliciting a moan. “Hm?”

You threw your head back on his shoulder, shivers rippling through your body. “Yes, all for you. Because of you.”

“Mmm,” he smiled into your shoulder. “I’m gonna put my fingers in, please tell me if you don’t like anything. I’ll stop.” He kissed your bronze skin, smelling like the sweet scent of the hotel lotion—lavender and vanilla.

Then he slowly inserts a finger into you, carefully watching the way your body reacts. And after seeing your body respond positively to it, he slowly thrusts his finger all the way in. “You’re so tight around my fingers, my love.” Then bottoms out, then slowly inserts another finger just to test the waters. Your arousal made it easy.

As the sweetness you felt in your core spread to your heart, you smiled. The pleasure clouding your brain and the position he had you in, the heat from his chest spreading to your entire body as he continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you. The wetness squelching and your panting being the only thing heard in this quiet room. He curled his fingers inside of you, brushing them against the walls of you, making your hips lift off of the bed. Without a word, he kissed your neck. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah,” you climbed off of him and next to him to grab a condom from the table, handing it to him. He took it with a small laugh as he put it between his teeth, freeing his hands as he laid you down on the bed again. Letting himself climb on top of you, grabbing the condom from his mouth to put it on the bed next to your head.

And it seemed like this was him letting himself go slightly; he pressed some of his weight onto you as he pressed his lips to yours. Releasing a groan into your lips as he gently groaned into the exchange. Grinding his hips into yours and this is the first time you registered how hard he was.

His tongue meshed well with yours, the warm, wet muscle working to taste every inch of your mouth. And he sat up, finally, and untied the robe. Letting it fall down his shoulders and onto the bed to reveal a lean, muscular figure. Strong pecs, toned arms, a sculpted torso that told you that he knew exactly what he was doing. He just wanted you to see him, he wasn’t trying overly hard to impress you.

You sit up yourself and mindlessly reach out to run your hand along his abdomen. His laughter made them contract, “You like them?”

Not answering, you move your other hand to his cock. He was the perfect mix of girth and length, just perfectly thick and not too long to where it made you afraid. You were already nervous, no need to add to it. But regardless you took him in your hand and slowly moved it. Making his head fall back with a sigh, “You don’t have to do this, babe. T-This is about you.” He said that, yet his body was twitching like he was trying to hold himself back.

You shook your head, “Then let me try this.”

He bit his lip, leaning into it. “Then…can you move your hand faster for me? Just for a second.”

Smiling gently, you increased the speed of your hand; stroking him with a firm hand. Riki sighed, letting out a slight whimper. Whispering your name as his body almost gives. But he can’t let himself go yet. “Okay, okay.” He huffed out a smile, “Lay back for me, baby.” He grabbed the tin next to your pillow and opened it with his teeth, putting it on his length. Sliding it down like he’s done this multiple times which he probably has.

He settled between your legs, stroking your thighs gently as he lifted them. Nearly putting them to your chest but just high enough not to make you uncomfortable. “I’m gonna go slowly, I think I prepped you enough but…I just wanna make sure you’re good.” Riki leaned down to kiss her knee. “I’m gonna make this so special for you, my love. You have no idea,” he kisses down your thighs. “My sweet, stubborn girl.”

You smile at his little jab, “Shut up,” you run your hands through his hair.

He sits up, lining himself up with your pussy but before he pushes in, he looks you in the eye. “It might hurt a little but I can stop if it becomes too much. So…are you sure?”

You looked at him with wide, doe eyes. “I’m sure,”

Riki exhaled, chest rising and falling like he’d been holding his breath for hours. He nodded once, slow. Then, with steady hands, he guided himself in—the tip pressing into your warmth as he kept his eyes on you the whole time. His jaw clenched, his breath hitched, but he moved with care. Inch by inch.

Your walls stretched to accommodate him, the fullness almost overwhelming—a burn that bordered on unbearable for a second. But he was there, kissing your temple, murmuring quiet things: “Just breathe. You’re doing so good. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, anchoring yourself as he bottomed out with a quiet groan against your skin.

He stilled.

“Okay?” he whispered.

You nodded quickly, voice barely there. “Yeah. Just…give me a second.”

He didn’t move—just kissed your cheek and ran his thumb along your side. Letting you adjust. Letting the pain melt into something else. Something warmer. You felt it start to bloom slowly—the tension easing, the pleasure starting to lap at the edges.

When you gave a soft nod, he pulled back just a little and rocked into you again—slow and controlled, like he was afraid to break you. But he didn’t have to say it.

You were already breaking for him.

The slight stinging was there still but pleasure began to make it subside—making you let out a whimper as you felt a mixture of sweetness and relief where you needed him most. But he worked his hips into yours, his cock gliding against the walls of your wet pussy. His girth brushing against your swollen clit from stroke to stroke. “F-Feels so good, Riki.” You cry out, “S’good,”

He held your leg as he buried his face in your neck, kissing your neck alongside other parts of your face: nose, lips, cheeks, ears, eyes, everything. “You like my cock? You like what I’m doing to you?”

His words ignited you, “Mhm, yes, baby I love it. More. More.” You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

He smiled into your neck as he let your leg go, hugging you back as he lost himself in you and the skin to skin wasn’t making it easier on him. But he whispered into your ear, his thrusts increasing in roughness. “More? You want more? Because I can give you—”

You cut him off with a moan, crying out as tears pool in your eyes. He kisses your jaw, “I can give you more.”

Your skin, covered in goosebumps and body clinging to him like a koala, heart pounding—your eyes rolled back at the sensation and you didn’t think it would take you nineteen years to have a full sexual awakening. You had toys, masturbated regularly, but none of that seemed to compare to the real thing and a swirl of fear, excitement, and lust overtaking your senses.

And you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Give it to me.” You pant out, sweat collecting along your forehead.

“Yeah?” Riki pulled back from you, leaning in close to your face. “Want me to give you everything I’ve got?”

You nodded, eyes glassy and lips parted as your body trembled beneath him. “Please,” you whispered, and it sounded like surrender. Like reverence.

Riki let out a ragged breath, forehead pressed to yours. “You’re so fucking amazing.”

Then he gave it to you.

Every stroke after that felt like he was carving himself into your memory — deeper, harder, more urgent. Your name left his lips like a prayer, like a promise. His hand slipped under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly to hit that devastating angle again and again until your legs were shaking around him.

You were gasping now, sobbing his name, clutching his back like he might disappear if you didn’t hold tight enough. Then, somehow you got curious. “Wait,”

He immediately stopped, leaning up and sitting on his knees. “Everything good?” Riki nodded with lifted brows.

You, still winded, mirrored him. “Yes, perfect. I just…wanna be on top. If that’s okay.”

He smiled as he caressed your thighs, “That’s more than okay, come on.” Before you could even reposition yourself, he leaned forward and flipped you both over in one swift, fluid motion—still buried inside you. The sudden shift pulled a gasp from both of you, your laughter caught between moans as your bodies adjusted.

But the moment passed fast.

Because once you were on top—eyes locked, chests heaving—it was like everything else disappeared.

Your hands braced against his chest, and as you started to move, his grip tightened on your hips like he was trying to anchor himself. He watched you like you were a miracle—eyes dark, lips parted, head thrown back against the pillow with a groan that could’ve torn the sky in half.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Just like that, baby. Ride me just like that.”

You rolled your hips, the angle hitting a spot that made you whimper, and you could feel him twitch inside of you.

His hands wandered—your hips, your waist, your chest—like he couldn’t decide what part of you he wanted to hold most. “You feel so good,” he choked out, voice hoarse. “I’m losing my mind.”

You leaned down, pressing your forehead to his, your rhythm picking up as your bodies slid together like puzzle pieces soaked in sweat and lust and love. He moaned into your mouth, both of you chasing that same high with each movement, each breathless kiss.

“I don’t ever want this to stop,” you whispered.

And Riki—Riki looked at you like he meant it when he said, “Then don’t. Stay right here. With me. I want you forever.”

As you felt your thighs start to give in slightly, Riki could feel it in your movements. He pulled you down, your bare, pillowy tits meeting his firm chest. And lifted his hips to drill into your pussy, going at a nearly inhumane speed.

Your world blurred—breath, heartbeat, and the heat of his body flooding every sense. The headboard thudded a slow rhythm against the wall while his name tumbled from your lips in shaky fragments.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped, voice raw. “I’ve got you. First time or not, I know your body—let go for me, I’ve got you. Cum for me, please.” He let out a chilling, guttural moan. “Let me be your first, your last, everything you want. I just want you—please. Together.”

You clung to him, nails raking his shoulders, thighs trembling as pleasure coiled tight—hot and sudden—then snapped. A broken cry tore free while your body clenched around him in waves. Seeing white behind your eyes as let him ride you through it.

Riki followed a heartbeat later, burying his face against your throat with a low, helpless groan. He held you there, hips shuddering through the last pulses, arms wound tight as if he could fuse you together right before spilling into the condom.

For a long moment neither of you moved, the only sound was your mingled breathing and the hush of late‑night traffic far below.

Finally he smoothed a damp curl from your forehead, kissing the spot it had rested. “You okay?”

A breathy laugh escaped you—equal parts spent and stunned. “More than okay.”

He smiled—soft, boyish, a little awed—then eased you onto your side without letting go. Blankets came up over bare skin; his palm settled over your heart as if to reassure himself it was still beating. “Did I do good for you?” He said quietly.

Your eyes were half open, considering how you managed to stay awake for the entire day was beyond you. But this was more than enough motivation to keep you awake and you were grateful for all of it. “It was…everything that I thought it would be. And more.”

He took the condom off and disposed of it at the bedside table. “I’m glad…” he smiles. “I…really care about you.” Riki kisses your lips gently, as if the lust just evaporated.

“I care about you too. I don’t want this to end.” You shook your head with a smile.

Riki stood up but not before kissing your hand and padding to a bathroom to bring a damp washcloth back. He wiped you down gently, muttering apologies when you flinched from the sensitivity. And when he finished, he tossed the cloth aside and crawled back into bed—pulling you into his chest, arms cocooning you like a shield.

Your eyes catch the digital clock that resided on a nearby desk, it reading 12:00 AM on the dot. You nudged him, “Look,” your mouth gaped in awe.

Riki’s eyes went in the direction of the desk but he squinted. “Fuck I need glasses.” He leaned up closer. “Oh shit!” He laughed, pointing at the clock. “If fate isn’t on our side then I don’t know what is. Truly.” Riki threw himself onto you, enveloping you in a hug. “Oh…my baby.” He squeezed you closer, the only thing between you both at this point being the duvet.

You hugged him too, smothering a laugh. “Well I guess I gave you those five and half hours.”

“Mhm, so…what do you say?” He leaned back, already knowing your answer but still wanting to take the formality. “Am I worth keeping around?”

You rolled your eyes fondly, letting your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. “You already know the answer.”

“I do,” he whispered, smiling like it still surprised him anyway. “But I think I just wanted to hear it.”

You leaned in to kiss him—slow, soft, and lingering. The kind of kiss that felt like a promise.

“I’m keeping you,” you said against his lips. “For as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever then,” he said without missing a beat, his voice low and certain. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulled you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin. His heartbeat was slow and steady against your cheek, his breath fanning across your temple. Silence settled over the room, not awkward or empty, but full. Like it had been waiting for the two of you to claim it.

And maybe you didn’t know what the morning would bring—what the world outside this little cocoon of blankets and whispered confessions might say.

But right now, here, with his arms around you and your body still humming from the aftershocks of being truly wanted, truly seen, for the first time…

You let yourself believe him.

That forever didn’t sound so impossible after all.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #niki x reader #kpop #enhypen niki #niki smut #kpop smut #nishimura riki #niki nishimura #enha #enhypen au

140 notes · View notes