#thought i should share this gem | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

togenabi · 1 year ago

Text

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.

“Because they were overbored!”

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.

“I’d like that.”

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

5K notes · View notes

51voices · 8 days ago

Text

Ex-Factor: Behind the Smile

Kinkvember Day 3: Blackmail (Yandere Jiheon)

Fromis_9 Baek Jiheon x Male reader

AN: Daylight savings + weekend = Earlier update 💖😊

In the dazzling universe of K-pop, where glitzy performances and fanfare reign supreme, love often becomes a bittersweet melody, intricately woven into the fabric of fame, fortune, and relentless ambition. Amidst the swirling lights of concerts, the deafening cheers from adoring fans, and the ceaseless training sessions, two talented idols—Jiheon and you—found a quiet oasis in each other’s hearts.

From the moment you met, it felt as if destiny had intertwined your fates. Jiheon, a rising star with a captivating stage presence that could light up any arena, had a magnetic charm that drew you in. Your own charisma, a sweet yet powerful aura, complemented hers perfectly. Together, you became a dynamic duo, weathering the storms of the industry while nurturing a love that blossomed in the less glamorous and quieter corners of life.

Your relationship was not built on grand gestures but on cherished moments behind the scenes. Late-night phone calls stretched into early mornings, where soft laughter and shared dreams painted a beautiful tapestry of intimacy. Cozy dinners became your refuge from the demanding schedules that dictated your lives, where you exchanged stories, hopes, and fears over steaming bowls of ramen or comforting plates of kimchi.

Your romance seemed like a fairytale. You were the couple everyone dreamed of being, seemingly pursuing your aspirations together with the promise of a shared future. From the outside, it appeared as though you cheered each other on during rehearsals, hearts racing not just for personal triumphs but for the joy of achieving success together on grand stages. Yet, little did they realize, there was much more beneath the surface.

Stolen kisses between dance practice, secret notes exchanged backstage, and quiet walks beneath shimmering city lights became treasured memories, preserving the sweetness of your love against the bitter backdrop of industry pressures. Your relationship was a gem, rare and precious, glimmering even amid the sparkle of stardom.

Yet, the reality of K-pop stardom is that it is often fleeting and fiercely demanding. As Jiheon’s career soared, propelled by her talent and charisma, the expectations placed on her intensified, like shadows growing longer as the sun sets. With each comeback, the stakes climbed higher, drawing her deeper into the relentless cycle of training, performances, and public appearances.

As the demands of your respective careers pulled you further apart, the strain began to show. Training sessions grew longer and more exhaustive, leaving scant time for romance. Jiheon found herself grappling with a heart pulled in two directions—her dreams, glittering and tangible, clashed with the love she cherished. In her mind, thoughts spiraled: Was it selfish to hold onto this love when her career beckoned?

In moments of quiet reflection, Jiheon wrestled with the haunting belief that letting you go might be an act of love itself. Perhaps distancing herself from you would give her the freedom to reach new heights, allowing her to fully invest in her career. It was a painful paradox—the closer she got to her dreams, the more she felt she had to sacrifice.

Then came the fateful day when Jiheon finally found the courage to speak the words that had been clawing at her insides for weeks. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her hands trembling at her sides. The two of you stood in a quiet corner of the park, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows that danced around your feet.

“I think… I think we should break up.” The words tumbled out like heavy stones, each one crashing down inside you, echoing the unshakable truth that you both had been avoiding.

“It’s better this way, for both of us,” she continued, her gaze dropping to the ground, as if she could will the earth to swallow her pain. The sun flickered through the leaves overhead, but it felt as if the warmth had suddenly vanished, leaving behind an icy chill that seeped into your bones.

The enormity of her words hung in the air, heavy and stark, as if time itself had halted. You could hardly breathe as your tear-filled eyes met hers, searching for some glimmer of hope, something to hold on to. But all you saw was the anguish mirrored in her heart, reflected in those shimmering pools of despair.

“What? Jiheon… Please,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as desperation clawed at your throat. “Can’t we find another way? We’ve been through so much together. I can’t just let you go.”

She took a step back, the physical distance between you somehow amplifying the emotional chasm that had opened up. “You don’t understand,” she replied, her voice breaking as she wiped a tear from her cheek. “I love you but, our relationship is bottlenecking our progress. Things aren’t the way they used to be, and pretending will only hurt us more.”

The pain of each syllable cut deeper than any knife, reverberating within your chest like the tolling of a bell, ominously marking what felt like the end of your world. You longed to reach out, to pull her close and reassure her — both of you — that everything would be okay. But the wall of resolve in her eyes held you back.

“Is this really what you want?” you asked, your heart racing as you grasped for any thread of connection that could pull her back from this precipice. “We can work on this, together.”

Jiheon shook her head, the weight of her decision heavy on her shoulders. “It’s not healthy for us, I can't keep holding you back… or myself.”

With that, the finality of her words settled like an inescapable fog around you. In her belief that this was the right choice, a choice steeped in love and sacrifice, Jiheon felt her spirit fracture, the pieces scattering like fallen leaves caught in a relentless gust of wind.

“Please don’t do this,” you whispered, the vulnerability of your voice revealing just how unprepared you were to let go. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I know,” her voice quivered, the pain evident in her expression as she stepped closer, reaching for your hand, squeezing it tightly as if to breathe life into the moment. “I'm sorry"

As her fingers slipped from yours, you felt a part of yourself tear away, and all you could do was stand there, motionless, as the world moved on around you, leaving only silence and the bittersweet taste of love lost.

The silence that followed was deafening, an echoing void that enveloped you both. You longed to reach out, to pull her back into your embrace, to tell her that love could be a guiding light rather than a hindrance. But those words caught in your throat, drowned by despair. The choice she made loomed large, instilling a heavy weight of regret that would soon settle in her heart.

-----

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Jiheon had once been the girl who laughed in the warmth of love, the one who danced on the threshold of joy with you by her side. Now, she found herself enveloped in the unrelenting spotlight of fame, yet that brightness felt dulled without your light alongside her. Memories of their shared laughter haunted her during moments of solitude, the ghost of your love coloring her world with bittersweet shades of sorrow. As she navigated the bustling stages of her career alone, the emptiness in her chest loomed large, an omnipresent reminder of your absence.

One particular night, Jiheon, trying to shake off the weight of her loneliness, stepped into a downtown club where the pulsating beats reverberated through her body. Surrounded by her group mates, she swallowed a cocktail and attempted to dance mindlessly under flashing lights that painted the room in a kaleidoscope of colors. For a fleeting moment, she felt the flicker of joy in the chaos—an illusion that quickly shattered when her eyes scanned the room.

Amidst the crowd, they landed on a sight that sent her heart racing—you, radiant and alive. You danced with abandon beside another girl, laughter spilling from your lips and merging with the booming bass into a perfect symphony of youth and freedom. The sparkle in your eyes was familiar yet painfully distant, doubling Jiheon’s heartache. A violent pang of jealousy and anger twisted in her gut like a sharp knife. How could you seem so happy without her, so completely unbothered by the void your absence had created in her heart?

In a moment of impulse, Jiheon whipped out her phone and captured a candid photo of you caught mid-laugh, blissfully unaware of the eyes that watched from the shadows. That snapshot froze you in a moment of pure joy, yet it morphed into something darker for Jiheon—a testament to her possessiveness over a love that felt just out of reach. The joyful essence of the photo twisted into a haunting reminder of what could have been, nagging at her heart like a persistent itch.

As the night wore on, the music thumping around her seemed to amplify the mixed feelings flooding through her veins—joy for your happiness mingled with regret for abandoned dreams, longing for the connection they once shared, and an undeniable ache that settled deep within her chest. Was this life of stardom truly worth the heartache and longing? She wrestled with that question as her mind spiraled between the vibrant images of what you had and the person you were now becoming without her presence.

Within the mass of dancers and flashing lights, nostalgia crashed over Jiheon like waves, drowning her in an undeniable truth: sometimes, the glitz and glam of fame pale in comparison to the warmth and richness of love. Her eyes locked onto you from across the room, a smile gracing your lips as you exchanged a casual laugh with a girl from earlier. It made her chest constrict with an unfamiliar ache, the pulse of the music no longer in sync with her own racing heartbeat.

She thumbed her phone, where the image she had taken earlier burned in her gallery. A snapshot of you and that girl, smiling, close enough that it could easily stir rumors. Jiheon knew the chaos such a photo could spark in your carefully curated idol world. A flicker of unease mingled with something darker as she stared at it, the thought of you drifting even an inch further away igniting an unsettling possessiveness inside her.

As the beat thumped, matching the thrum of blood in her ears, something began to click in her mind. Maybe it was the drinks, the warmth of the alcohol unlocking a part of her she hadn’t known existed—one that thrived on the possessive edge coursing through her. The distance she had imposed between the two of you, the careful walls and silences, now felt like chains she’d fastened herself into. The room around her blurred—dancers, lights, and music melding into a shifting, indistinct haze.

A slow smile spread across her lips, soft yet shadowed with an intensity that felt foreign, thrilling. That ever-lingering question looped in her head: Could it truly be too late to find your way back to each other?

The answer, she decided, was simple. No. It wouldn’t be, not if she had anything to do with it.

-----

The next day dawned bright and deceptively warm, sunlight streaming through Jiheon’s bedroom window like a foreboding harbinger of a day meant for clarity. Yet as she sat cross-legged on her bed, chaos swirled within her like a gathering storm. In her hands lay a photo that had the power to irrevocably change everything.

Sobering up, Jiheon’s heart raced as she wrestled with her choice. The image represented a moment of vulnerability—one that, if leaked, could shatter your carefully curated image in the idol world. The thought sent chills coursing through her veins; yet desperation gnawed at her, urging her to take an action that felt both reckless and necessary. She felt ludicrous, turning her cherished memories into a weapon, but her heart battled fiercely with her desperation.

With trembling fingers hovering hesitantly over her phone, Jiheon finally composed a chilling ultimatum: “Meet me at this hotel room tonight, or I’ll leak this photo. I know how much you value your reputation. Don't make me do this.”

As soon as she hit send, a heavy silence enveloped her space. Anxiety pooled in her stomach, and she felt the weight of her decision pressing down on her like an unbearable load. There was no turning back now. She was fully aware that this power play could lead to a scandal that would reverberate through every corner of the entertainment industry. Yet, blinded by emotion, she oscillated between anger and longing—a desperate desire for you to confront the tumultuous feelings they had both been suppressing for far too long.

The moments following were excruciating. Jiheon paced around the small hotel room, her mind racing with questions and regrets. What if you didn’t come? What if you did, but the encounter spiraled out of control? The sound of her own heartbeat thudded in her ears, amplifying the suffocating tension. She glanced at the glowing screen of her phone, waiting for the telltale sign of a response. The room felt colder, the stillness more suffocating than she had anticipated.

-----

Outside Jiheon’s hotel door, you stood in a genuine emotional whirlwind. Underneath the cacophony of your racing heartbeat was an undercurrent of dread. The chilly evening air did nothing to quell the unease gnawing at you. You stood there, grappling with thoughts of what you might find inside. The idol world was merciless, filled with the sharp teeth of scrutiny and public judgment, where one misstep could lead to downfall.

Every fiber in your being urged you to turn and walk away, to deny the pull that had dragged you to this place. Yet, deep down, you knew that this encounter was inevitable—an ending and a beginning all at once. Taking a deep breath, you raised your fist, but paused for a heartbeat, listening to the silence on the other side.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, you knocked on the door, your knuckles barely making contact before it swung open. Jiheon stood there dressed in an oversized sweatshirt that nonchalantly hung off her shoulder, emanating an allure that contradictorily disarmed you even as your heart raced with apprehension. Her casual smirk felt like a mask she wore to hide her true intentions.

“Hey, you made it! Come on in,” she chirped, her voice bubbling with false cheer as she stepped aside to let you enter. The moment you crossed the threshold, a palpable shift in the air hit you. The hotel room was more spacious than you expected, yet it felt stifling. Soft yellow lighting from the bedside lamps cast warm pools that clashed with the cold tension that hovered between you. The room was immaculately tidy, with crisp white sheets tucked tightly over the bed and modern, minimalist décor—a sterile contrast to the storm of emotions brewing in the space.

Jiheon closed the door behind you, and the sound of the lock clicking into place seemed to echo louder than it should, sending a shiver down your spine. The brightness in her eyes dimmed, replaced by an expression heavy with tension. “Thanks for coming. I know this is... unusual,” she said, each word carefully measured, her posture rigid as if bracing for impact. The energy of the room was suffocating, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

You took a tentative step forward, eyes darting around for some kind of anchor. A plush armchair sat near the window, where the faint glow of the city bled through gauzy curtains. The muted hum of traffic below seemed worlds away, unable to penetrate the thick atmosphere pressing against your chest. Your gaze settled back on Jiheon, who stood by the door, arms folded, her face a blend of vulnerability and defiance.

“About that picture,” she began, the words slicing through the silence and drawing your attention like a blade. You swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in your throat. “Where did you even get it?” The question came out sharper than intended, but you couldn’t mask the desperation behind it.

“Does it matter?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she shifted her weight, crossing one ankle over the other as if to project nonchalance. The effect was betrayed by the subtle tension in her jaw. “What matters is that it could ruin everything for you.” She spoke matter-of-factly, her tone unyielding. The polished veneer of the hotel room seemed to close in, amplifying every strained breath. “Your fans will go crazy, their precious, innocent maknae getting it on with a random girl in a club. Don’t even get me started with your label... we both know about your dating ban.” Her voice dropped, and she looked away momentarily, exhaling as if trying to push her doubts aside. “I don’t want all that drama. So here’s the deal.”

A wave of dread washed over you, pooling in your stomach like ice water. “What do you mean, ‘the deal’?” The question was barely more than a whisper, the fear in your voice betraying the bravado you were trying to muster. The room’s silence pressed against your ears, making the faint tick of the wall clock almost deafening.

Jiheon took a step closer, closing the already minimal space between you. The subtle scent of her perfume—a blend of jasmine and something uniquely her—suffused the air, adding to the disorientation. Her eyes glimmered with a mix of determination and something else, something unreadable that made your pulse race. “I’ll delete the photo, but in return, I want… something from you.”

The implication in her words hung between you like a storm cloud. “What are you saying?” you asked, the room’s oppressive heat making it hard to breathe. The Jiheon you knew was warm and disarming, a friend who had stood by you through countless late-night chats and shared secrets. This Jiheon, with her calculating eyes and steady stance, felt foreign.

“Come on, don’t act so surprised,” she said, a smile ghosting her lips without warmth. “The way this industry works, sometimes you have to play the game.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Besides, it’ll be fun. Just one night, and then I’ll make sure the photo disappears forever. No one has to know.”

You felt the room spin, the reality of her words slamming into you with suffocating force. Your eyes flickered to the unmade bed, the impersonal art on the walls, the sterile cleanliness that seemed to mock the chaos between you. The thought of your career unraveling, of headlines splashed across tabloids and the faces of your fans twisted in disappointment, made your hands clench into fists.

“What if I don’t agree?” you managed to say, the words brittle and sharp.

Jiheon leaned back against the corner of the desk, crossing her arms in a gesture that was more defensive than she intended. The gleam in her eyes turned cold. “Then I guess my fingers might just slip, and that photo finds its way to the wrong places. She tilted her head slightly, the edge of her voice softening. “But hey, it’s your choice.”

The quiet that followed was heavy, the dim light casting harsh shadows that stretched across the room like prison bars. Your chest tightened, each breath shallow as the gravity of her ultimatum pulled you deeper into an inescapable spiral.

“Fine. Just... let’s get this over with,” you said, your voice hollow as the words left your mouth. Jiheon’s smile grew, though it was tinged with something bittersweet, her eyes flickering with fleeting uncertainty before hardening into resolve.

“Great! You won’t regret it, I promise,” she replied, her voice silkier now, wrapping around you like a lie.

You couldn't shake the feeling of disgust and anger that bubbled within you. You couldn't believe that you had been manipulated in such a way, that you had allowed yourself to be coerced into something that you knew was wrong.

Jiheon finally took the matter into her own hands. She decided that it was time to get back what was rightfully hers.

You and your ex found yourselves in a dance of passion that was fraught with tension, each movement calculated and deliberate. As you undressed one another, the fabric that fell away seemed to peel back layers of your shared history, revealing a complex tapestry of emotions.

With a sudden burst of energy, Jiheon leapt onto the bed, her vibrance illuminating the otherwise somber space. Her eyes, alight with a mischievous hunger, locked onto yours, and your heart responded with a rapid staccato that matched the intensity of her gaze. It was a shift in dynamics that was both exhilarating and alarming.

"I want you to make me cum," she asserts, her voice a blend of command and seduction that sends shivers down your spine. The weight of her demand hangs heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the power she holds. "If you don't, the photo gets leaked." The threat is clear, and the stakes are high. It’s a game of pleasure and power, and you are unwittingly cast as a key player.

Jiheon's need for sexual fulfillment was palpable, a hunger that had been growing during your time apart. She was determined to reclaim the intimacy and release that she felt had been unjustly withheld. In her eyes, you possessed the skills necessary to satisfy her, and she was resolved to extract every ounce of pleasure she felt she deserved.

Caught in this web of desire and coercion, you face a dilemma that twists your stomach with apprehension. Your career, your reputation, everything you have worked for, hinges on your performance in this delicate situation. With a fortifying breath, you harden your resolve and prepare to meet the challenge head-on.

Your approach is steady, a predator stalking its prey with a singular focus. Jiheon lies before you, her finger crooking in a silent command for you to advance. Her legs part, an invitation—or is it a trap?—that you cannot ignore. You climb onto the bed, positioning yourself at the apex of her desire.

With a grip born of determination and a hint of aggression, you lifted her legs, draping them over your shoulders. Her gasp was a fleeting concern, quickly overshadowed by the task at hand. Your sole objective was to deliver the ecstasy Jiheon so fervently demanded.

You commenced with a series of slaps, your length striking against her most sensitive flesh, eliciting visceral and raw reactions. Then, with a thrust fueled by gravity and desperation, you plunged into her depths. Her body's undulations were unmistakable signs of pleasure, confirming that you were indeed striking the right chords within her.

Each stroke is met with increasing wetness, her arousal a slick testament to the intensity of your union. You drive deeper, using your natural lubrication to facilitate a rhythm that is both forceful and fluid. Your bodies move in, a dance as old as time, yet under these circumstances, it feels like uncharted territory.

Sweat began to drip as you continued to thrust with speed. The heat radiating from the former couple was intoxicating. Your body moved in perfect rhythm with hers. They would meet each other halfway just like it did during your time together. She moaned and writhed beneath you, her body tensing up as she got closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, kiss me," Jiheon demanded, her tone leaving little to no room for argument. With no choice, you leaned down and gave her a kiss, a kiss full of regret and hesitance. But Jiheon wasn't having it. She forced her way into your mouth and twirled her tongue around yours, asserting her dominance in this intimate moment.

Finally, just as she asked for, she couldn't take it any longer. She cried out in pleasure as she reached her climax, "YES, FUCK ME HARDER, HARDER" her body shaking and shuddering. You could feel every single one of her muscles clenching and contracting around your cock as you kept pounding out of frustration. But you knew from the way she quivered and screamed that you had done enough to save your career.

As she tried to come down from her high, Jiheon found herself becoming more and more aroused again, as her ex was relentless with his movement. The touch was confident and skilled, and she felt herself getting closer and closer to another release, and she could feel you too as your cock would twitch and pulse inside her.

Jiheon’s eyes sparkled with mischief, she had been anticipating this moment. She could see the tension building in your body, and she knew that you were on the brink of release. She planned her next move, determined to make this encounter one that you would never forget.

In a swift and calculated motion, Jiheon locked her legs around your waist in a vice-like grip, effectively trapping you in place. She could feel the surprise and confusion radiating coming from her hex, but she didn't give you a chance to react. With a sultry smile curling at the corners of her lips, she uttered her threat with a seductive purr.

"If you so much as think about pulling out now, I'll make good on my promise to leak that photo of you to the entire world," her voice dripping with confidence and determination.

You stared at her in disbelief, mind racing as you tried to come up with a way to escape. But Jiheon was prepared for this. She tightened her legs around your waist pulling you closer and making it clear that she was not going to let go.

"I mean it," her voice stern and unyielding. "You'd better finish what you started, or else I'll have no choice but to make good on my threat."

The gravity of her words hung heavy in the air. Jiheon's tone was firm, unyielding, and laced with a hint of warning that made it abundantly clear that she was dead serious about following through on her threat.

"You need to give me everything you've got," she continued, her voice taking on a softer, more sensual tone. "I want every single pump of your cum filling me up completely. Only then will I be satisfied."

Her demands were both bold and brazen, an assertion of her own desires and a challenge to meet her needs. Jiheon's words, coupled with the feeling of her legs still wrapped tightly around you, left little room for doubt - she intended to see this through to the end, and she expected you to do the same.

Your heart raced as you felt trapped and powerless in Jiheon's grasp. You knew she was not bluffing about the situation, but also knew she was capable of causing a scene and ruining your reputation. With no other choice, you accepted you fate and continued your assault.

Jiheon's smile grew wider as she felt you surrender. She wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you closer, relishing in the control she had.

"Jiheon… Please." The phrase was so simple, just two words, but the desperation in your voice made it hard to tell if you were pleading for mercy or on the verge of surrendering.

Nearing your climax, you attempted a hasty and sneaky quick pull-out maneuver, hoping to avoid the finality of the act. But Jiheon's strong and toned dancer's legs, honed through years of training and performance, refused to let him escape. She kept your hips firmly and deeply inside her, ensuring that you spilled every last drop.

Jiheon, nearing her release as well, used her legs to help you pump inside her.

"Ugh, Jiheon, don’t," you groaned, running your fingers through your hair as you felt the familiar sensation building inside of you "Shit, I can't hold it in any longer." Your tone was a mixture of anger and defeat, body becoming weak and you shuddered as you reached you climax.

"No!" Your voice cracked in desperation, your body trembling as you tried to hold back, but Jiheon’s grip was relentless. "Yes!" she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction, pumping into you harder, forcing your body deeper as your resolve shattered. Your hips bucked involuntarily, cock twitching as you spilled inside her, pulse after pulse, completely filling her up. Your pleas were drowned out by her triumphant cries, their bodies locked together as the heat of his release poured into her, unstoppable despite his struggle.

Jiheon’s smile, once warm and inviting, twisted into a smug, satisfied smirk. She had won, achieving exactly what she wanted. You were weak, utterly spent and defeated, your body betraying you as she basked in the triumph of your surrender, her victory undeniable in the heat of your aftermath.

Exhausted from the exertion and overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, you collapsed against Jiheon, your body going limp as you surrendered completely. Every muscle felt drained, leaving you helpless and vulnerable in her embrace. Jiheon’s fingers wove through your damp hair, but her touch wasn’t comforting—it was possessive, a reminder that you were now hers. She leaned closer, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction and control.

"Good boy," she murmured, the words laced with a dark promise. It wasn’t just praise; it was a claim, a subtle warning that you were under her dominance now, and there would be no escape.

Jiheon's arms encircle you with an intensity that feels like a claim, a branding of ownership that sends shivers down your spine. Her heartbeat, a steady rhythm against your own, seems to mock the chaos that is unfolding within you. This is not the tender embrace you had imagined in your dreams; it is the firm grasp of someone who has orchestrated this scenario to perfection.

Jiheon's voice broke the silence, her words slicing through your confusion with surgical precision. "We're dating now," she stated, her tone deceptively casual, yet it carried the weight of an irrevocable decree. There was no hint of doubt in her declaration, no invitation for debate. Your heart, already pounding from the shock of the situation, stuttered at her announcement. Dating? The word echoed in your head, a concept that you had never consented to, a path you had never agreed to walk with her.

Panic flutters in your chest, its wings beating frantically against the cage of Jiheon’s possessiveness. You had never anticipated that your ex, with her playful banter and shared secrets, could morph into something so controlling, so suffocating. Before you could gather your thoughts to protest, Jiheon’s embrace tightens, a silent message that resistance is futile. Her body presses against yours, not with the gentle warmth of a lover, but with the unyielding force of a conqueror.

You lay there, trapped in the ironclad embrace of someone you no longer recognized. Jiheon’s triumphant smile, etched with victory, watched the realization dawn on your face. There was no escape, no chance to rewind and undo the twisted knot that your relationship had become. Her eyes, once windows to a kindred spirit, now held a glint of domination that chilled you to the core.

Jiheon shifted slightly, still catching her breath, and you barely registered the subtle movement as she reached over to the nightstand. You felt her stir, saw the glint of her phone as she grabbed it, but it wasn’t until she gave you a mischievous grin that your heart lurched in your chest. Without hesitation, Jiheon spread her legs, revealing the undeniable evidence of your intimacy still glistening between her thighs. Your pulse quickened as she angled the phone, snapping a selfie that captured both of you, making it appear as though you were the one who had taken the photo.

To add to the cruelty, Jiheon crafted a look of mock terror on her face, making it seem as though you had forced her into the act. Her expression was so convincing that it sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Your stomach twisted as you watched her approve the photo, her smirk growing darker by the second.

A surge of panic hit you, and you lunged forward, trying to grab the phone from her hand. "Hey, give that back!" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear.

But Jiheon easily pulled the phone out of reach, a low, sinister laugh escaping her lips. "Oh no, baby," she purred, her eyes glinting with dangerous amusement. "I’m keeping this. You know… as insurance."

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Insurance? What do you mean?" you asked, dread sinking deeper into your bones.

Jiheon sat up slightly, her gaze hardening as she stared directly into your eyes. "If you ever, and I mean ever, break up or even just think about leaving me," she said slowly, her voice cold and deliberate, "I’ll leak this photo." She said with a smug tone, "I’ll release a statement about how you forced yourself on me, how you got me drunk and manipulated me. I’ll make sure you will never have a job again. You might even end up in jail." She tilted her head, her smile growing more twisted.

Your blood ran cold as her words settled in. Your mind raced, but there was nothing you could do. "You… you can’t be serious," you stammered, fear choking your voice. "You wouldn’t really—"

"Try me," Jiheon interrupted, her tone now deadly serious. Her gaze never wavered, her smile fading into something darker, more threatening. "I’m not afraid to ruin you; you’re mine to ruin." Then, just as quickly, her expression softened, her voice taking on a sickly sweet tone as she tilted her head, mimicking a look of innocence. "But we don’t have to worry about that, right, baby?"

Her innocent eyes contrasted with the threat she had just laid out, and you felt trapped, suffocated by the power she held over you. You swallowed hard, knowing you had no choice. "No…" you whispered, defeated. "No, we don’t."

"Good," Jiheon cooed, setting her phone back down on the nightstand with a satisfied smile. She nestled herself against you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The weight of her body against yours didn’t feel comforting—it felt like a cage. "I’m glad we understand each other. Now, cuddle me."

Your chest tightened, the suffocating realization settling in. She had complete control, and there was nothing you could do to stop her. Reluctantly, you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the cold grip of your new reality sinking in. Jiheon’s contented hum filled the room, her satisfaction palpable.

Her voice was suddenly sweet and light, almost dreamy, as she uttered the words, "I love you." The sentiment was delivered with a softness and affection that could disarm even the most guarded heart, reminiscent of a confession from a school girl completely in love. Her eyes sparkled with an innocence that was both endearing and convincing. The grin that adorned her face was the epitome of purity, creating an illusion of a genuine moment of affection that seemed to bridge two souls in perfect harmony.

But as the recipient of this sudden outpouring of emotion, you found yourself momentarily paralyzed, unable to respond right away. The silence that followed was deafening, and in that brief interlude, the atmosphere shifted. The sweet, lovestruck girl before you vanished, replaced by someone whose intentions were far more malevolent.

In an abrupt and terrifying transformation, Jiheon's smile disappeared, and her eyes, once filled with warmth, now glinted with a sinister edge. With a swift and unexpected move, she used one hand to grab your cheeks, her thumb pressing firmly against one side of your face while her fingers dug into your skin on the other. She pulled your face toward hers, the grip both demanding and unyielding. "Say it," she hissed, her voice no longer soft but sharp and commanding. The sudden change in her demeanor left you bewildered, your mind racing to catch up with the rapidly deteriorating situation.

"Say what?" you managed to ask, your voice betraying the fear that was beginning to take hold. Her response was chilling, her fingers tightening around your waist, nails piercing your skin ever so slightly. "Say that you love me," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

Her warm, affectionate facade had crumbled, revealing a person you barely recognized—someone who was willing to go to terrifying lengths to make you submit. A shiver of fear shot through you, mingling with disbelief, yet your mind struggled to process this abrupt shift. You tried to gather your words, stammering as you attempted to defuse the tension, to understand this dangerous new dynamic without provoking her further. But the silence that stretched between you seemed to amplify her anticipation, her eyes never wavering from yours, watching every twitch, every flicker of hesitation.

Then, with a swift and brutal decisiveness, Jiheon’s expression hardened. Her features contorted with impatience and a dark, twisted determination that sent another wave of panic surging through you. Before you could react, her other hand shot down and clamped around you, gripping your flaccid sensitive member with a force that made you gasp in pain, your body reflexively tensing under the unexpected pressure. The pain was sharp, searing, and impossible to ignore, cutting through your paralysis and grounding you in the raw, terrifying reality of the situation.

"Say it!" she hissed, her voice laced with venom, a brutal command that left no room for resistance. Her eyes bore into yours, ablaze with a fervent intensity that was both horrifying and unrecognizable—a look of possession, of absolute control, that left you feeling exposed and powerless. This wasn’t the Jiheon you knew; this was someone consumed by a desperate, obsessive need, someone who would not tolerate defiance.

Her grip tightened further, making you wince as a jolt of agony shot through you, stealing your breath. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, strangled by fear and confusion. Her nails dug into your skin, the slight prickling sensation a reminder that her affection had twisted into something far darker, far more dangerous than you’d ever anticipated.

"Say it," she repeated, her voice lowering to a near-growl, each syllable carrying an unspoken threat. The intensity in her gaze held you captive, her fingers pressing with a deliberate cruelty that sent a tremor through your body. She was relentless, her patience long spent, and the chilling certainty hit you—she wasn’t going to stop until you gave her exactly what she wanted.

"I... I love you," you stammered, the words dragged from you by fear and desperation. The moment they left your lips, her demeanor shifted again. Her grip released, and she softened, a satisfied smile curling at the edges of her mouth. She brushed her hand gently over your cheek as if in some twisted form of affection, her fingers trailing down your skin in a mockingly gentle touch.

"There we go," she murmured, her voice slipping back into that feigned tenderness. "That wasn’t so hard, was it?" She nestled closer, fitting her body seamlessly against yours as though nothing had happened. Her arms slid around you, draping over you in a way that felt suffocating rather than comforting. She hummed softly, her head resting on your shoulder, her breath warm against your neck.

You lay there, rigid, as the reality of your situation settled in. Her embrace, though gentle, felt like a cage tightening around you, each moment drawing you further into her control. Her fingers started to trace slow, lazy circles on your arm, an almost tender gesture that only added to the disquiet churning within you. Every brush of her fingers felt like a reminder that you were trapped, ensnared in her twisted idea of love.

Jiheon lifted her head and gazed at you with wide, adoring eyes, her expression teetering on the edge of mania, her gaze brimming with an unsettling, almost feverish devotion. Her arms tightened around you, the grip bruising as if she were afraid you'd slip through her fingers if she didn’t hold on tight enough. Without warning, she leaned in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that was fierce and smothering, the force of it stealing the breath from your lungs. Her mouth moved over yours with a hunger that bordered on obsession, each kiss deeper, more desperate, as though she needed to consume you entirely to feel complete.

When she finally pulled away, her lips didn’t stop—they traveled over your cheek, planting fervent kisses that turned into nips, her teeth grazing your skin in playful bites that grew sharper, more possessive with each one. Her mouth found your neck, where her kisses became relentless, almost frantic, punctuated by gentle, teasing bites that left faint stings in their wake. Each kiss, each bite felt like a claim, a brand, marking you as her own with every touch.

Between her fervent kisses, her breath brushed hot against your skin as she murmured in a soft, almost reverent tone, “You’re mine now.” Her voice dripped with a disturbing sweetness, a tenderness warped by the intensity of her obsession. “We belong together… forever.” Her lips found the curve of your shoulder, where she sank her teeth in, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to send a jolt of sensation through you, a reminder of her dominance. Her arms locked around you, pulling you impossibly closer, her embrace as unyielding as steel.

“No one else understands,” she whispered, her tone almost soothing, though her grip was anything but gentle. Her fingers traced up your spine, leaving trails of heat wherever they touched, her nails digging in just enough to leave faint imprints on your skin. “No one else could love you like I do,” she cooed, her voice lilting with an affection that sounded both sweet and sinister. “We’re perfect together, you know that, don’t you?”

She tilted her head, looking at you with that same unrelenting gaze, her fingers running through your hair, tugging gently before pressing another kiss to your jaw, her teeth grazing your skin in another possessive bite. Each touch, each whispered word held an unbreakable claim, binding you to her in a love that had long since spiraled into obsession.

You didn’t respond, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in her own world, one where your silence was simply acceptance, where her love—twisted and possessive as it was—was something you reciprocated. Her fingers tangled in your hair, stroking and twirling, while her lips pressed over your skin again and again, each kiss carrying a desperation that unnerved you.

To her, this was the culmination of a perfect romance, the moment she’d always dreamed of. Her eyes glistened with a feverish joy as she whispered, "You and me… forever." She buried her face in the crook of your neck, her arms squeezing tighter, her body practically molding against yours. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, as though her happiness was so overwhelming that even air couldn’t fully reach her.

You lay there, stiff and helpless, your heart pounding as she continued her endless string of kisses and whispered confessions. She was clinging to you as if you were the only thing keeping her tethered to reality—yet it was clear her reality was a world built entirely on her delusions. She seemed blissfully unaware of your discomfort, every soft word, every fervent kiss drawing you deeper into her twisted world.

As her grip tightened, you knew with a chilling certainty that Jiheon wouldn’t let you go. In her mind, you were bound together, trapped forever in her obsessive love, with no hope of escape.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #male reader #kinkvember #kinkvember 2024 #fromis 9 #fromis 9 smut #baek jiheon #jiheon #jiheon smut #baek jiheon smut #fromis 9 jiheon

569 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 28 days ago

Text

pairing: james potter x reader

summary: your yule ball date goes south. James picks up the pieces

a/n: this is relatively close to a scene that's gonna be in a large marauders fic i've had as a WIP for forever so if you read that in a year and think hm that sounds vaguely familiar no it literally doesn't

You've never felt any strong kinship towards James Potter before, but now, shoulder to shoulder, equally stunned looks on your faces, you know you share an experience most don't.

"Well," James hums, dazedly, free from anger even if it should be present, "Alright then."

Neither of your should-be ball dates look up from where they're snogging each other in one of the utility closets covered up by paper streamers and an appetizer table, and you feel irritation begin blooming in your chest the way that they won't even look at you. Perhaps they can't hear you, perhaps there's fireworks in their heads and they're sharing one of those everything-else-melts-away moments.

Good for them.

You turn on your stiletto heel and head pointedly but casually towards the door to the balcony. You're eager for the cool night air on your skin- the crowd seems suffocating now. You snag a bottle of something you're sure was meant for the professors on the way out, keeping it tucked to your side to ensure no one sees you leave with it. It's amber in color and you'll figure out what it is later; right now your only concern is getting out.

You examine your feelings staring out over the grounds, moonlight bathing your skin and making the gems on your dress glimmer. You should be sad. Devastated, even, what with your date shacking up with some other girl when he should have been dancing with you. But you're not.

It's an unpleasant feeling, but it's betrayal more than heartbreak. You suppose you were never really head over heels for the boy you'd agreed to go with, it was just nice to be asked. To be wanted.

A wistful love song leaks out from the open doors to the ballroom, and you chew on its lyrics as you fit your mouth around the spout of your bottle. It warms you, your tongue suddenly heavy and tingling as you swallow a fair mouthful of the stuff.

"That was a sloppy grab," Someone calls from behind you, and you're surprisingly not tense when you recognize it as Potter's, "Someone could have seen you."

"We're not all mischief makers, Potter," You let the ghost of a smile cross your face as you stare out over the grounds, liquor residue leaving them sticky, "You should teach a class on smuggling things in and out of the school."

"I have thought about being a professor here," He admits, taking the place beside you and leaning out over the railing, "DADA if I could get it. Don't think Minnie's goin' anywhere or I'd go for Transfiguration."

"She'll be teaching our grandkids," You laugh, "And god save this school if you're ever hired."

"I'd be great." He assures you, a laugh in his eyes rather than his mouth, "So. Are you- ehm, okay?"

"Yeah." You shrug, your bare shoulders catching the slight breeze where your dress cuts them out, "It's- I'm fine. He wasn't the love of my life. Just sucks he lead me on is all."

"Right. Me too." James nods, "I- I wanted things to work with her. But I suppose in ten years I saw myself with someone else."

You attempt another sip of liquor after a bout of heavy silence, but James's hand holds the bottle away from your mouth, "Hey, slow down, killer! Liver failure is not a good method of revenge."

"Two sips won't kill me," You scoff, but you don't fight him when his large, warm hand takes the bottle from you, "You just want some for yourself."

"Yes and no." He grins, taking a swig of his own, "For courage, I s'pose. And dance moves."

You raise a brow at him, listening as the song changes from a ballad to a swinging one, something that makes you want to let loose and experiment with moves you've seen only middle-aged men showcase at weddings.

"Come on." He offers you a hand, setting the bottle aside and straightening off of the railing, "Come on, you've gotten dressed up to dance tonight, and there's no one else out on this balcony. Just you and me, let's do it."

"I got dressed up tonight to fuck," You clarify, but you're not sure if you really mean it- anything to ward away any good luck that comes to you before it sours like most things seem to be tonight.

"Well that can come after. I'm not fond of exhibitionism," James explains, hand still outstretched as you straighten your dress instead of taking it, "Come on. I'm about to lay out some truly heinous dance moves and I'll be making a fool out of myself if you don't join me."

The beat of the song really is tempting, an oldie but goodie that you'd danced to in your bedroom a thousand times before.

With a decisive huff you surge forwards, taking his hand and letting yourself relax into the rhythm the song sets for the pair of you. James is not wrong- he's a sight to behold while he's dancing, but you let him be your example and soon you're both choking on laughter as you swing each other across the balcony and dance circles around each other. The song dies down into another ballad and you let James press you politely against him, his hands never straying further than your waist as you hold his shoulders.

"I'm almost glad he ditched me," You muse, chest heaving slightly from exertion, "I don't think he would have danced with me like that."

"Mine was- uhm, she wasn't fantastic conversation." James admits, "I feel bad, but-"

"No, she's an airhead." You nod, knowing all too well that the girl James had escorted into the ballroom tonight did perhaps everything in her power to never have an intelligent thought, "It's harsh but it's true."

He nods, and your head comes to rest comfortably against his chest, cheek pressed into his dress robes.

"Thanks, James." You murmur, squeezing his shoulders gently. You feel more than hear his response, but the soft, suddenly tender, 'My pleasure, Y/N.' warms you more than the liquor had, the perfect antidote to the cool air out on the balcony as you sway in time with James.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

682 notes · View notes

persicipen · 1 month ago

Text

emotionally charged sex ノ zhongli

₊ ˙ ⊹ . morax fakes his death to escape the erosion that would otherwise eat his soul and spirit. to have his plan succeed, he had to keep it secret even from you, his beloved of many years. now that it’s revealed to you, you approach zhongli after he unexpectedly shows up in liyue harbour after days you spent on mourning him.

ৎ୭ — · · 4.6k ノ afab gn reader — sponsored through @ficsforgaza project ノ reader is a long-living adeptus loyal to geo archon ノ zhongli shapeshifts into a half-dragon because reader is into it lol ノ size kink . big dragon dick ofc ノ lots of biting and marking ノ teasing and playful zhongli ノ unprotected sex . cumming inside ノ emotional confessions etc.

This felt like a betrayal. The worst kind.

The afternoon sun was the witness of your meltdown as it seeped through the intricate timberwork of the windows, liquid gold pouring on the floors and turning dust into diamonds dancing in the stuffy air moved only by your screams and wails. A heartbreaking serenade to the one and only you thought dead — standing before you like a pillar of stone, accepting the tantrum and tears thrown at him.

To see his extended cobalt hands, now, of all times, feels more like a curse, a violent reminder that you cannot compare to his longevity, to his wisdom. If he’s not willing to share his plans with you, you’re no different from any of his servants, any of the people of Liyue. A little fickle of life along the shining thread of history, nothing more than a name that appears and disappears when the time comes.

If this is the treatment you get after being told you’re the most precious gem laid upon his open palms, his one and only, the other half he’s been missing for centuries before he has finally found you, then what’s the point of feeling these heavy sobs inside your lungs? What’s the point of moving, of looking, of trying when it can all be gone in an instant?

To be together with him.

Zhongli, Morax, Rex Lapis, Geo Archon… No matter the title, no matter the name, you know him for who he is.

For he’s someone you love.

He draws his touch down your body, his carbon fingers leaving a golden dust along their path as they sink into the soft side you so willingly arch to get the most out of the fleeting contact. Such apology will not work on you, but he’s aware. He’s not trying to make you forgive him, no. What is stirring within his cunning mind is to make you submit once again to his rule and deem him as godlike, as you won’t focus any more on the commotion caused by his faked death. Oh, he may listen later in delight to your complaints that he should not use his divinity against you this way. To prove you still love him beneath the disappointed visage.

Unavoidable sensation that blooms from his bones whenever he sees you like that — frustrated and on the verge of tears — still clinging to the might and the faint glow of his geo powers like a lost soul towards the light. He’s a little unserious about it, a tiny guilty pleasure he excuses whenever he has the time to annoy you, as if you two weren’t bound by the contract older than some riverbeds cutting through the plains.

Seems like you also forget about it in such heated moments as this one.

The hollowness left after he draws his touch away has you pursue him with your hips, chasing the bittersweet heat of his palms pressed flat against your chest, close to the steaming heart that lives inside your ribcage.

“Ah, so I was right, in the end?” He smiles faintly, eyes shining softly, no strong emotions found in his voice. “Missing me dearly these past few days, were you? A loyal thing you are, maybe even the most loyal.”

“My Archon, you cannot simply— no, this is exactly what is hurting me the most. That you can fool everyone into believing you are gone. Even me…” How can you maintain the discussion when your voice breaks down at the selfish thought of what he may think of you?

Are you not overstepping, claiming that you are more important than the precious people of Liyue? Or is this exactly where you should hold your ground, reminding your Archon, your dear man in this life, that he should love you more?

“I wish you had told me about it first… I want to help you. But all I’ve been doing these past few days is trying to digest the news you have given me… too late.”

“Love,” His voice wraps around you like a dark silk, strong yet so gentle with you as if you’re his beloved vase made of paper-thin glass.

How tacky of him to consider such endearment out of nowhere will work on you instead of stirring your anger further into a frenzy.

Silent, giving him the benefit of doubt, you let him continue.

“Don’t cry, my love. I should have thought better before withholding this burden from you. I needed to do it in order to keep you all safe.”

The very next moment, his hold is on your face, soft enough not to leave marks, but also steady enough to sink into the swell of your cheeks. A careful thumb sweeps the skin under your eye, his gaze a blazing gold melting the glossy surface, bringing out the scent of salt — the forevermore bittersweet memory of one of the gods you two used to invite to sit by the same table, no longer here — and thin wet trails that form even when you squeeze your eyelids shut.

“I know you must’ve been worried.” His voice is silky as always, as if speaking through layers of fine fibre he himself weaved with his obsidian hands. “I firmly believe you trust me enough to understand that I did what was necessary. And that I intend to repay each hour you’ve spent fretting for my life.”

The intention is pure, yes. With the last breath uttered with the finished sentence, he leans in to kiss you. A chaste gesture, like a greeting, rather than a confession of centuries old desire. No teeth, no tongue — the undying devotion lingers in the press of lips on yours. It’s an intimate promise to correct the misjudged solitude he’s mistakenly given you.

At first you’re taken aback by his behaviour, your gaze following him, along with your body when he leans back and into the cushions behind him, a river pulling you with the current.

His silken touch dances over your skin, setting sparks as they go down to your jawline and towards your neck, palm slowly settling around the curve of your throat.

“Is this my punishment? To endure your kind caresses with a heart that is still furious?” You whisper in a tame voice, asking for more.

Though you wish to appear unbothered, it still hurts. The golden serpent you are, slithering to make your way into his arms, contradicting the words hanging in the stuffy air between your mouths.

You crave him.

Even if you want to make him feel guilty, you still have been missing him too much to pass up on this opportunity to have him closer, to feel his skin on yours again.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind.” Zhongli nods in a short move, observing your reactions.

When you don’t push him away, his smile grows warmer, stretching lips and taking away the focus from those smouldering golden eyes you often fall into like a rabbit in a trap.

“Will you let me make it up to you? To be reminded how much you mean to me, so that we can share in happiness once more.”

“Yes. You better…”

The touch of his kiss lingers there, though you’re no longer aware of it as he prolongs the contact with your cheek — rough like granite despite his gentle nature — and you cannot but laugh a little at the idea of an ancient dragon trying to seduce you into forgiveness.

How do you not notice his scaly hands undoing the ribbons holding your robes in place, piece by piece, until he has access to your naked skin?

Your nervous laughter stirs an emotion in him, pulling him out of this feigned playfulness, and he exhales.

Amidst the desperate breaths losing rhythm, escape words you two shared twice, maybe thrice in the past millennium. They ring within your mind, pleasured moans like prayers for him, mixed with your faint hisses and mutters of his titles. It’s a perfect calligraphy written on the wall of your hearts that separates you from others, because you’re no one but his — whether you live as his servant or his lover.

Always marked with his name, carved into your flesh.

With the growing desire and your fingers running up and down his sides, catching on the growing scales from beneath the tunic, swelling his slender body into a dominant entity, you grab onto his marbled muscles, suddenly aware of the difference that he assesses between your silhouettes. That is he who’s given an ability to shapeshift, to mould his visage into whatever he desires; you remain the same, forever easy to spot for his aureate irises.

“Oh? Do I sense a preference for roughness this time?” He says in a mirthful tone, placing his hand over yours when you try to adjust your touch. “Why the rush?”

“Your arrogance— no, I will not indulge your humours.” You sigh with a pout as you shift closer, thighs snug around his waist, fists riding up his shoulders, opening up the tunic in the process. “First you must satisfy me before I consider remission.”

There’s a fond laugh that comes from his throat, pushing a tiny puff of warm air on your face. “Ah, so we’ve come to terms. Does it mean I have your permission to please you however I want?”

You freeze at the notion he presents, because it could be both your favourite game and a way to completely break your mind and body when he inevitably slips into his lustful fantasy. Of course, you don’t oppose such ideas when your own vision for the upcoming events is based on similar principles, but the doubt makes you narrow your eyes at him.

“I allow it.”

“My my…” His lips touch your earlobe, a chuckle stirring deep in his chest when he hears you whine and feels you squirm in his lap, “You really do desire for something out of the ordinary, don’t you?”

As soon as you open your mouth, Zhongli kisses you, over and over again, down the neck, nibbling on your collarbone while his teeth shape into fangs and his tongue lengthens as it traces a damp trail down your jugular. Soon the sharpness starts to graze your skin, along with the clawed fingers brushing over the front of your body, hard enough to leave vivid lines and slight scratch marks where they got tangled under the flimsy silk of your garment. Yet you only exhale, heated, temperature rising.

The light chafe from his touches sends shivers down your spine as the next follows.

“F-feels nice…” You whisper into the thick air, relaxing, gradually growing needier with every drag of his fingers along your sides, hugging you so tightly that he may as well become one. “More, I want more of you.”

But no matter how sweetly you plead, there’s no rush to his movement. As if he’s calculating every next step in advance, he brings you into a proper embrace, two living beings pressed together — oh how you can feel his heartbeat on your own, matching the rhythm, powerful enough to echo through your ribcage.

When you lay your head on his shoulder, there’s a faint scent of sandalwood emanating from his collarbones. Or maybe it’s the pungent fragrance of the osmanthus wine you’d found him earlier sipping on? Either way, it wraps you up in comfort, enough to dull your senses and not notice a curious touch sneaking between your legs, playfully groping any curve and any angle along the way, squeezing the softness like to measure if you’re still relaxed in his arms.

“You’ve made me worried I would have to take hours to prepare you…” Zhongli says as he hears you exhale heavily, followed by a tiny whine from you when his fingers slowly rub the wetness sticking to the delicate folds. “But you’re wet like never before.”

“Oh, it is—!” You move your hips closer, instinctively seeking out more friction — more of anything he’s willing to give.

Just a little. Please…

Maybe then he’ll slide his hand further in, though instead of listening to your silent request, he whispers about your pussy getting so excited when he’s not around for a while and then back for you to touch him.

The amused voice causes a fire to engulf your face, making you feel how a fresh wave of embarrassment stirs your heart and muddles your mind even more than his palm cupping your mound.

You clutch onto his shoulders and bury your head deeper into his collarbone, letting him lift your hips up and drag a long finger down your slit — something so insignificant to him, yet it has you clenching your thighs and grab tighter, desperate for more, more, more. Enough of that teasing, the fleeting caresses. What you need is to feel him as real and might like stone, pressing on your body with all his weight. But the good and loyal servant you are, you wantonly yelp as he pokes at your entrance, coaxing out of it another rush of wetness.

He shushes you and brings his free hand over your mouth, placing the heel of his palm under your chin, then tilts your head up to watch you. He’s excited to see you squirming and thrashing about in his arms as soon as he plays around your hole, pulls your folds apart and together again.

You inhale harshly through your nose, drooling on the elegant fist that smells faintly of tea leaves as he stops — bringing you down to sit on the growing erection under the half-undressed robes you tried to tear off his fragrant body. There’s nothing to hide from him, no need to disguise the obvious lust dwelling in the quivering breaths when you assess the hefty girth rising underneath your needy cunt. You’re one motion away from making him take his clothes off completely, reveal all the darkness and amber-coloured scales along with the striking yellow irises gazing into your eyes.

But what about you?

You shudder and arch your back when he pulls you closer, almost dropping onto the hard bulge beneath. It’s so difficult to control the desperate jerks of your hips. Delirious before he even takes care of you properly, you use all your strength to bring him down to his knees, messily roll down on the floor together. And he laughs! Laughs at the way you cross your legs behind his back, at how wet you’re making his clothes — eager and loud, almost hissing at him to make up for everything.

The throbbing in your abdomen becomes unbearable. The tension is growing as soon as you feel something coiling around your calf — one of the ribbons holding his robe, now untied and playfully wrapped to squeeze you there. That’s not all of it, no, not with the lustful god who has nothing else but time to waste. He gets comfortable enough to pull out his cock and leave it hanging just above your tense stomach whilst his eyes are busy taking in the visage of yours; mouth hanging open, frenzied, and burning with impatience.

He smiles, and you laugh when you finally, finally get what you want — he pushes himself inside. The feeling of being stretched to the fullest is like no other; it feels almost like the first time you two laid together. It’s a strange kind of happiness to look at his face and see him equally satisfied with the way your warm insides fit his girth.

A pleasure beyond any comparison, unified and shared, because you’re always getting too easily and too wet for him in no time, as if always ready to expect him to change into a dragon of Cor Lapis. He’s still human, though, and you whine to spur him to change, at least partially.

Zhongli takes you fast and hard, desperate even, sliding back and forth until his forehead touches yours. His mouth finds yours once again, teeth tugging at your lower lip, but it doesn’t last long before he has to break the kiss, throwing his head back, grunting. The more he moves his hips, the louder his breaths turn into growls, slow and deep. He’s way too impatient, despite all the games and pleasantries from earlier, grinding his pelvis against yours, missing you just as much as you have missed him.

Soon enough he finds a rhythm that suits him the most — needy, to say it the simplest way. His hand is under your nape, another one reaching down to massage your thigh, just for a few seconds until he allows the pleasure to consume him whole and—

It is pure bliss to hear him moan your name into your neck, and the gold in his veins shimmers brightly.

Then it comes, the best part of your shared intimacy; that strange and unique sensation when the black emblems of his geo powers spiral up his arms, marking the insides of his wrists, clavicles, fanning out on the sides of his neck. The intensity of the sensation varies, from an intense ache when he decides to pull out and ram back inside you in one swift motion to the sharp pain when he clutches your waist, shifting you lower onto his pulsating cock.

Dizzy from pleasure, but instead of relishing in it, you think how easily you could’ve lost it…

“No, please, don’t leave me!” You sob, stricken again with the image of his lifeless body, the always springy serpent body limp against the stone courtyard. An icy blade of a vision amidst the waves of intimate warmth.

“I’m deep inside you. Can’t you feel it well enough?”

“Closer. Deeper, please…”

He forces a kiss on your lips and then does exactly as you wish, pushing himself fiercely into your slick flesh. Balls snugly pressed, taut and heavy, to your skin, just as his girth carves your insides to its form. Throbbing fullness swirls into the all-consuming sensation that throbs down to your toes and tips of fingers, melting in the touch of his sharpened nails.

Like molten gold enveloping whatever it’s poured onto, you cling to him with an incessant longing drawing from your heart. Enough to ignore the subtle abrasions covering your inner thighs when they repeatedly brush the chocolate carbon scales of his waist.

As you see stars and the landscape of Liyue bathed in the hues of red and orange from beyond the terrace, a waning moon, your skin burning with love marks where he nibbled and sucked.

Like a serpentine shadow of a dragon, Zhongli looms over you with his broad shoulders and rich features as you lay spent on the floor, among the dishevelled garments and cushions, leaning to the railing of the seating to gain some composure back, adjusting to having his cock sheathed wholly.

A coy smile peeks from behind the silk fan of your lashes, peering up at him. He holds your cheek tenderly, praising you with a soft hum of satisfaction for having taken him well.

But, of course, you ask him if he thinks this is enough to make up for your temporary separation. To have his soothing voice narrate that the few days felt like forever. You listen with closed eyes and trembling fingers, awed by how this man could have stayed silent about his plan — now a string of compliments weeping down his elegant lips to heal your worries with a honey layer of love.

The thorns still dig into your soul when you realise the permanence of the pain he’s caused you.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is the bond you share as the burning gaze from beneath the mahogany silk of hair rakes over your body and the shallow gasps you take to soothe the invasion in your lower belly.

“A struggle is what I see. Such a sweetling you are, brave in words yet shaking like a leaf as you try to act as if my cock doesn’t ravage your insides.” Zhongli remarks with a mocking tone, though his eyes twinkle with kindness when you roll yours at him. “Need I remind you, my love, that it’s you who has called upon me deeper?”

But now, with him having grown significantly in size, you’re still considering how much of a challenge this could become. Still, his affection makes your heart throb with want. And, again, you find yourself following the dangerous path leading to the eternity he offers you, with eyes wide open.

You ask him to thrust deeper, pulling his shoulders closer until your fingers sink into the tough substance that is his muscle. A mellow yelp comes from your throat as you feel the heat he radiates overpower your whole body, eclipsing the autumn wind and bringing the smell of dry leaves and bark — reminding you that it was him who shaped the entirety of your shared homeland.

And even if Liyue changes over time, the sight you’re granted tonight is one for your memories only, because no matter how long you may live, no mortal has seen their beloved god like this. Lustful, glimmering like a star from the sheen of sweat covering his proud chest. For years, he’s held back from not turning into this form in your company, to keep the essence of Rex Lapis still here for you to admire in awe. A feat which you praise with your uncertain kisses that grow messy as soon as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you back on his shaft. The warm stretch you feel once more between your thighs makes you tilt your head; see how he disappears inside you.

You wail and take the best of this position, arms wrapped around his neck, giving him full control over the speed and force behind the push. You guide him with your heels pressing to his lower back, rubbing the smooth scales as if they were his clothes. But it seems like this gesture spurs him to repeat the movements even faster and deeper, pushing you onto the hard floor — body rocking to the rhythm he dictates.

“Take it as my token of gratitude for having allowed me this chance to relish you anew,” Zhongli mutters in a hoarse voice as his tongue flicks between your parted lips.

Promising words mingle with the filthy sounds of arousal. And when the images of a few hours ago become blurry and fade away, you notice the ancient dragon gazing down at you from the embrace of his ruddy horns. It’s those beady golden eyes that shift into bright crimson from time to time, overrun with passion, as they observe your body with greed. How your own skin is now a canvas for his letters drawn by his fangs and talons, decorating every curve, every sensitive spot — each causing you to flutter and clench around his cock, hungry to claim your being.

And all this time he would laugh at your obvious attempts to catch his eyes, sending a shiver up your spine, kissing you in between praises, from time to time mumbling against your plump lips, “I could spend the eternity like this. In you.”

“You say this now, but what I need to hear is that you will respect me when it comes down to another serious decision.” You hum out in a tired voice, brushing your fingers through his mane.

Though he seems to have not listened, or at least chose not to react, he instead growls and makes you open up for him again, biting into your flesh like a beast. The physical confessions of love he leaves all over your shoulders, where you can easily hide them under the robes, may look like simple bruises from far away, yet there’s an intricate pattern to them, written in his own ancient tongue — no one will be able to read them but him.

That you are to be his alone and stay forever by his side.

Such a greedy dragon, taking whatever he desires in hope you will forgive him, making you whine as the flames of arousal start to lick at your ankles once more. But it’s not something that needs to be asked about now, when you two are just about to reach your highs.

Zhongli keeps you close, pounding your soppy pussy with reserve and intent, at times holding onto your waist to feel the swell of his cock stretching you. And just like this, he whispers, giving you orders — to meet his thrusts halfway, to pull him in deeper, and to let him listen to your heated moans when he curls his hips to conquer your core.

A semblance of hunger itself, always calling out for you while chasing the blissful finish with single-minded determination, so different from the usual languid pace.

Each word spoken is followed by a stinging kiss, the dampness on his chin dripping down his neck, making you feel how primal of an instinct that is to come together.

Your insides tremble with lust, quaking under the building pressure of his release, squeezing him tightly as your pleasure erupts in a wave of puffy breaths and slick heat gushing out around his girth. He chokes on his own saliva, husky moans spilling between his parted lips. The grand finale is right there, somewhere beyond the horizon of your sweaty bodies, so close yet not in reach — each drag of his erection becoming a slow torture to endure.

And that’s when he clenches his jaws and rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your ankles to keep them wide apart as his thrusts grow erratic and quick, pounding you into the floor. Every sound he makes, like a deep rumble coming from the centre of the earth. A huff here and a broken call for your name there — along with praises of your heavenly body — while the searing liquid pours into your cunt, filling your womb until it starts to drip out with every movement.

It feels like a seal is carved on your souls, deepened by each ragged thrust as he lets himself succumb to this mortal desire, bucking into you and groaning out for you to stay. With his heated weight leaning on you, trapping you in his powerful arms, he stays for a while inside you, thrusting just a bit to spur the overstimulated nerves and force a few more whimpers from you.

Finally, he laughs in relief and rubs your nose with his, pulling away with a wink. “Would you be so kind to remind me of what happened before we got carried away?”

“How rude!” You exclaim, puffing your cheeks out as you push him off you, gently though. “You might have explained yourself well, but I’m still upset with you for tricking me like that.”

Zhongli looks at you from the corner of his eye, fully aware of your sudden change in demeanour, and shakes his head with an amused sigh. A gentle roll of his body brings out a still wanton moan from your throat, awakened with the rub of his cock inside you.

“Now, now, darling, I see your mood has changed finally to a brighter one.” He grins and brushes his finger over your bottom lip. “Or are you just unwilling to admit that you cannot stay mad at me for long?”

You bite your tongue so as not to give him the satisfaction of correcting his statement. Instead, you mutter, rolling your eyes at his arrogant expression.

“How can I say no to such an endearing face?”

The moment those words leave your lips, Zhongli withdraws from your warm body, nibbling at your jawline with his usual gentleness. You see how your mingled cum and essence drip down his legs, how it paints the floorboards with pearly marks, though soon the crispy wind brings your attention back to your own state. It is an oddly pleasant sensation of the fresh breeze playing with your soaked petals and aching thighs — sore from clasping hard ‘round the wide stature of your lover.

Like you never plan to let go of him. And that is true.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . AUTHOR’S NOTE — hewwo! happy kinktober! something that was supposed to be a first part of this year’s kinktober, but i decided to post it individually and not bother with making an entirely new masterlist just for five stories. it would make sense if i were prepared better but as we all know, life can be weird, and i could not make it. regardless, i hope this was enjoyable, and that i didn’t mess up with the new labelling — if i should turn it back into basic fem reader, please let me know :3

#—writing.#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut

486 notes · View notes

helaintoloki · 3 months ago

Note

hi can you do a ben hargreeves angst where klaus is still able to see him in season 3 and he sees how close y/n has gotten to ben sparrow you can do whatever you want with it

warnings: language, lots of angst

notes: okay i actually loved writing this you are a genius for coming up with this scenario

summary: Ben is forced to watch you fall for a completely different version of him

Ben once thought having to watch the woman you love live her life without knowing you looked on as a spirit incapable of communicating with her was the worst fate imaginable.

But he was wrong.

Watching the woman you love grow close to another version of you while you can do absolutely nothing to interfere was more torturous than any other possible outcome.

Ben absolutely loathed the Sparrow with his entire being. He couldn’t understand why you would even consider trying to get to know the man- he was a complete jerk, absolutely hostile, and not at all understanding or compassionate to the dilemma your team found yourselves in. Ben also thought his haircut was stupid, and the Sparrow’s demeanor gave the ghost a sense of second-hand embarrassment every time he talked.

And yet you were drawn to the man like a magnet, and how could you not be? He looked and sounded exactly like what you imagined your Ben would have if he had survived the accident and been able to grown into an adult alongside you. Despite his callousness and his blatant lack of trust in you, you were eager to learn more. Did he like the same things your Ben did? Did they share the same interests? Were their mannerisms the same? You desperately needed to know, and the Sparrow did not deny you this. Though he held a certain sense of disdain for your team, he wasn’t prideful enough to turn down the company of a pretty girl who seemed to follow him around like a lost puppy. He took advantage of your kindness and your vulnerability, and your Ben hated that he could do absolutely nothing to stop this.

You sit on a lone bench and watch as the Sparrow completes his workout for the day. He’s allowed you to tag along so long as you don’t get in the way, and you agreed. You’re completely mesmerized by his toned arms and grunts of effort that escape his lips as he lifts weights, and Ben can only roll his eyes.

“Seriously? This guy?” He asks you in exasperation, but of course, you don’t hear him at all. This doesn’t deter him from continuing his attempt to persuade you to stay away from the Sparrow. “You are way too good for an asshole like him. He’s just using you to feed his ego!”

“Do you like to read?” You ask the man as he sets down his weights and reaches for his towel to wipe off the sweat from his brow.

“Read?” He retorts haughtily, almost offended by the notion. “What am I, a nerd?”

Ben knows neither of you can see him, and yet he flips the man off anyway in response to his answer. Your shoulders visibly deflate at his words, and the ghost can only frown and attempt to place a comforting hand on your shoulder. It goes right through you, the coldness prompting you to shiver involuntarily, but it makes him feel better to know you can at least sense him in some way.

“My Ben liked reading, so I just thought maybe you would too,” you offer meekly, prompting the Sparrow to roll his eyes.

“Alright, new rule. You wanna hangout with me? Then don’t bring up ‘your’ Ben. Got it?”

“Right, sorry,” you murmur quietly while awkwardly fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. You hover over the one on your index, the purple gem gleaming in the light. Ben knows that ring because he gave you that ring, and that’s why it nearly kills him all over again when he watches you hurriedly remove it and hide it away in the pocket of your sweater.

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for being you,” he gently reprimands you with a sigh before focusing his harsh gaze on his lookalike. “And you should stop being a dick to quite possibly the nicest girl you’ll ever meet. You don’t deserve her, and I’ll never understand why the universe decided you should get to have her.”

Of course, his lecture is unheard and has no impact on the scene that unfolds before him. He watches in gut wrenching agony as the Sparrow seats himself beside you on the bench, his rough hand coming to rest gently upon your thigh and squeezing to get your attention. Your eyes almost seem to sparkle as you look up at him in search of validation for your efforts to get to know him. There’s a shift in the air that fills Ben with dread, and despite all his efforts to stop it he can do nothing to prevent your lips from meeting the man’s in a purposeful kiss.

Your heart flutters in your chest as the Sparrow pulls away and carefully tucks your hair behind your ear, his voice coming out in a soft whisper as he says, “You’re with me now. Forget about him.”

And to Ben’s absolute horror, you obediently offer a silent nod in agreement to his command.

#request #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #sparrow!ben #sparrow!ben x reader #sparrow!ben imagine #tua #tua x reader #tua imagine

408 notes · View notes

yourheart-inmyhands · 7 months ago

Note

My brain is acting up again 😭

Yan! Diluc, Zhongli (I swear I love this man) and Dottore having a conversation with their darling and out of nowhere they spill facts about how to hide a body or make it decompose faster.

If they ask how they know they just chuckle and continue their conversation.

They got it from Reddit fr 💀

- Weird anon ✨

ah i am also obsessed with death and decomposition, with a good mix of anatomy, though i try to avoid just finding random facts, i buy textbooks and research books about the topics to further my knowledge on the subjects :3c

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence, lots of talk about death and facts about death, creepy behavior, as well as other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Diluc:

He finds it amusing at first, not really commenting on it and simply letting it be. Soon enough though he starts sharing facts of his own, making minor corrections or suggestions to the ones you bring up. Sometimes he even adds on to what you already have, changing the course of the conversation momentarily.

It’s not talked about often but Diluc is no longer allowed in Snezhnaya for a reason, he’s seen more than his fair share of bloodshed and has no problem offering you better suggestions than what you previously thought to be best.

He makes a little game out of it, even going as far as to offer to test your claims. Diluc doesn’t see the harm in it, if anything he’s merely indulging in your interests, bonding with you over it. Strange as it is, he thinks it’s fun.

“Did you know the main reason why corpses smell so bad is because when people die, their bladder empties out?” Diluc chuckles at your question, the conversation shifting from possible dinner options to that of death was nothing new to him, yet it never failed to amuse him. “I did. Did you know it’s because when you die every muscle in your body relaxes, which means anything in your bowels is emptied out, no longer held back?” A bit of a tangent never hurts, especially not when it comes to a topic you seem so sporadically fascinated with. Diluc could sit here and watch you talk about this endlessly, the way your face suddenly lights up as you blurt out a random, off-topic fact. It was like seeing a kid walk into a candy store.

Zhongli:

Zhongli takes it a bit too seriously, often correcting you on common misconceptions or myths. He’s still lighthearted about it, but he doesn’t want his beloved darling to be in the wrong about this kind of thing.

He’d hate to see your spirit crushed by someone else, their offense to the sudden topic change springing up as a rebuttal. He’s simply protecting you this way, making sure that no one can challenge anything you say.

All his knowledge doesn’t come from nowhere though, so do keep that in mind should you ever try to challenge him on anything. Not only has he lived far longer than you, but he and his spear have seen, and done, many things

“Zhongli! Did you know that after death, your hair and fingers still grow for a short period of time?” Pausing mid-explanation, Zhongli processes what you said before smiling fondly at you. “No, my gem, they do not. It is actually the skin shrinking back from loss of moisture. That movement of the skin gives the appearance of the nails and hair growing.” Zhongli doesn’t falter even the slightest in his correction, merely stating it as if it were common knowledge, which it ought to be. This is a fairly common occurrence, with your little interruptions being met with either encouragement from Zhongli, or simply corrections.

Dottore:

He’s probably the worst to bring this up around as he likes to make a competition out of it, going back and forth about gruesome facts until one or the other caves.

Not only has Dottore learned a lot about death, but he’s been responsible for just as many. His knowledge far extends past the random facts you collect.

It’s not surprising that Dottore knows more than you, he never holds it against you though. Every time he wins a little bit of the banter between the two of you he sees it as a win for both of you. You get more facts and he gets to assert his position of higher power over you.

“Rigor mortis occurs 6-12 hours after a death but can last 18-36 hours before the body returns to being soft and floppy.” Dottore doesn’t even falter as you shift the conversation, easily following your lead. “Suffocation is more than just a painful way to die. Oftentimes victims of suffocations will try to free or save themselves to no avail as their limbs will cease function, this is because their brain is trying to preserve oxygen which leads to them being unable to free themself and dying.” The smile on his face is only a few inches wider than normal, his eyes twinkling with the same challenging shine that always comes through when you bring up death. If you weren’t well aware of his affections for you, you’d almost believe he loved talking about death more than he loved you.

664 notes · View notes

drak3n · 11 months ago

Text

TATTOO ARTIST/PIERCER!CHOSO

CONTENT WARNINGS: unestablished relationship, smut, public sex, mentions of body modifications, cunnilingus, implied blowjob at the end, choso has a prince albert-, tongue- and a vertical eyebrow piercing

sena’s note: i know there’s a lot of tattoo artist choso already but i folded — anywaysss up next is my man gojo 🖤

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who was very well-known for his talent despite being so young; who was always pretty gifted with his hands and used peoples’ skin like a canvas, gracing it with the prettiest designs, simple and small, or detailed and large

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who shared a studio with a few fellow tattoo artists and piercers, but had a goal of having his own studio someday

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who had just finished a 5h back piece on his last client and walked towards the front desk to retrieve his cigarettes and take a break, just for his hooded, brown eyes to set on you

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who saw you standing next to your friend and encouraging her to hand in her data sheet for her tattoo, and who watched as your friend was immediately guided into one of the rooms by a tattoo artist, just to leave you all by yourself

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who came back from smoking minutes later to see you sitting on one of the leather seats, flipping through pages of the shop’s magazine that showed many different designs of tattoos, and also piercings

“you want to get anything done?”

nearly flinching at the cold voice sounding a couple of feet away from you, your eyes met choso’s, who was leaning against the wall, revealing fully tattooed forearms through his loose-fitted t-shirt. he looked very… unique, to say the least.

“oh, no, i’m just waiting for a friend,” you smiled kindly, “she’s getting tattooed right now. think it’ll take some time.” you felt guilty that you stared at the man like he was some kind of alien. his features were just really captivating, the plethora of tattoos peeking out from his short sleeves and from the collar leaving little to the imagination that they continued even beneath that shirt.

his eyebrow tattoo shone under the light, but when he opened his mouth, your jaw nearly dropped at the sight of a tongue piercing.

you suddenly remembered what they said about guys with tongue piercings, and felt deeply ashamed about getting such thoughts about a hot stranger.

“come,” he invited you towards the room he usually worked in, “you’ll get bored here. you’ll get a piercing on the house.” he didn’t know why he offered that. maybe, just maybe it was because he didn’t want the other piercers and tattoo artists to charm you first.

at the end of the day, you left the studio with your freshly tattooed friend and a pierced nose.

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who hoped you’d walk in again, and whose shoulders nearly slumped in disappointment upon seeing your friend coming in by herself a few days later to get her tattoo checked, without your company

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who — totally on accident — saw that the studio had been tagged in multiple stories on instagram, one of which being yours, a spontaneous picture taken of your side profile that showcased the gem he had pierced into your cute nose

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who absolutely didn’t follow you after that, just to see mere minutes later that you did, and before he could stop himself, he followed you back

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who really wasn’t the best texter, which left you wondering if you should even try and talk to him at all; whose eyes went wide in surprise when you waltzed into the studio to get your thigh tattooed weeks later

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who showed you that same day how it felt to get eaten out by someone with a tongue piercing

“c—choso… fuck— what if someone—”

your hand clamped in front of your mouth to stifle a moan threatening to force itself out when the ball of metal on choso’s wet muscle bumped against your bundle of nerves. you were seated on the couch he’d previously tatted on, both of your bare legs thrown over his shoulders as he feasted on your delicious pussy.

“let them,” he spoke gruffly into your cunt as his tattooed hands dug into the underside of your thighs. he didn’t hide the smirk displaying on his lips at the way you drooled from the sensation of his piercing coolly gliding against your wet pussy lips.

“c’mon. use your words. i’ll let you cum if you do.”

“pleasepleaseplease let me cum… please choso.”

“cute. you want to feel what the piercing on my dick feels like?”

➩ TATTOO ARTIST!CHOSO who totally did make you beg on his thick dick adorned with a shiny prince albert piercing, and who couldn’t even be mad at you when you flashed him a tongue piercing you had gotten at another studio to surprise and make him see stars just like he’d done for you

2K notes · View notes

ivys-garden · 15 days ago

Text

Wild Life Spoilers: Session 2 Alliance Report:

Teams:

The Spanners - (Mumbo, Grian, Skizz) - formerly the Sub One Club, immediately forget their idea of using crawl mode and lament that they can't be sub one anymore. Mumbo then decides they are “The Floaters” due to them becoming obsessed with the levitation ability. Luckily this doesn't stick because I could not handle an alliance that changes name every session. Mumbo and Skizz built their “base” as a series of bridges, leading to Mumbo calling them “The Spanners” since “they span things”.

Speaking of levitation, they died from that. And starvation. This was not Mumbo or Skizzes session, with Mumbo losing two life's and Skizz losing 3, halfing his amount of lives in one session. If Skizz loses one next week he will be yellow. Seems Grian's curse of outlining his alliance has started early.

The Bam-Boozelers - (Scar, Lizzie, Jimmy)

I normally have a lot of faith in all life series teams. I think anyone can make it to the end. I think this so long as it is not abundantly clear that they're doomed. I never say someone is Doomed from the star-

This team is doomed from the start. Immediately they decide that the Wild Card is that he can't heal from hunger, now this is a good first thought and is shared by other teams, though those other teams immediately realised that if that were the Wild Card everyone would die of hunger and started looking for other options.

These 3? They stuck with that idea and started making boats to travel. When they realised that their hunger reduced passively, they panicked until Grian saved them by telling everyone in chat that they could eat anything. Now, armed with this knowledge they just have to find a good and easy to use food source.

They chose stone shovels. An item that cannot be stacked and required way more effort and resources to make than was worth it. And they stuck by this even as others told them about better foods. They only stopped using shovels because of the randomisation.

How is Jimmy the most confident member on his team?

In other news, they're theme park is going well and Lizzie's Parrot is cute. Jimmy also apparently has “Big Mascot Energy”.

Renwood - (Martyn, Ren)

These dogs are just vibing. They each lose a life each, no big deal. A far cry from previous seasons, Ren is just chilling, Not going after anyone unless they go after them first and trying to get Martyn to do the same. And he actually does, not attacking anyone this session at all. He even gives up going after Jimmy for stealing their cows (an action which was by every account deserved.)

The Tuff Guys (Tango, Etho, Bdubs) (not technically together (?))

Ah yes, Team B.E.S.T without Skizz …. Considering Skizz was the only person keeping Team B.E.S.T from imploding, this can only go well!

Yeah this team is not staying together. Technically they're already breaking up, with Bdubs saying they should only look out for themselves and insisting they live in different houses. Bdubs even cements this mentality by fully encouraging Scar to help kill Tango for no reason.

As for the “Tuff” part, Etho has decided that they need to be tougher and take what they want from people. You know, not to be nice or polite.

Luckily we can see how this works in practice, as Gem encourages him to go be tough to the Final Girls, let's see how Etho is an not being nice:

● he greets Scott and Cleo

● makes small talk

● politely asks for copper

● tries to stop Pearl stealing from them since he doesn't know she's on they're team

● takes more of the stuff he was told he could have

● gives them obsidian in return anyway

● and still feels bad about it.

Yeah not only was this the least tough Etho had ever been, the Girls almost certainly didn't notice and probably won't even care when they do. Great job Etho.

The Fast And The Furious (Gem, Joel)

This session, Gem announced her plan to make friends so people don't judge them based on 5 seasons worth of going insane every time they go red. This lasts for 3 minutes before other people arrive, Scar misunderstands instructions, Etho lets the cops out and the Final Girls partake in their favourite pastime of miscommunication and insisting their own teammates are doing something they aren't.

Other attempts to make friends do go better, with Gem arguably being on good terms with everyone except two people. So that's good.

Gem also builds a cute little Bard that I give a session before it's burnt down or has a Creeper hole in it. Joel spends all session building a car. Everyone on the server thinks it's hideous, mainly because it is hideous.

The Final Girls - (Scott, Pearl, Cleo, Impulse, Bigb)

Somehow the most stable team here, even if it is mostly out of spite. Yeah this team will stay together, the core four have never betrayed anyone unless an outside faction is involved. They're safe. Even if they continue the tradition of forgetting all the bad stuff they did and only reimbursing bad stuff their teammates did (what do you mean Pearl doesn't trust people based on what happened in previous seasons? That was you, Cleo!)

Oh Bigb also joined this session. Though I imagine this will be a Heart Foundation situation where he bases alone despite being on the team.

Scott and Cleo spend a lot of time this session fixing the mistakes Pearl and Impulse make by acting how they always do. A house and wall are built and Pearl and Impulse prepare revenge plans on Grian and Martyn. Pearl encourages Impulse not to tell the others, seemingly forgetting that Cleo and Bigb are addicted to revenge and would have no problem with this.

Alliances and Friendships:

Lizzie and Gem

these two agree to team up if their teammates die. Since their teammates are idiots.

Remember, Lizzie is the one who made the stone shovel plan.

Spanners Vs Bammers

The Bam-Boozelers still hate the Spanners, dropping their reputation all the way to zero. Mumbo and Skizz either don't realise this or don't care. Grian was gone almost all session mining so can't really say what his thoughts on the situation are.

The Family - (Joel, Etho, Gem)

Etho is indoctrinated into yet another family, though he seems more willing to be present for this one. When Tuff Guys breaks up like 5 minutes into session 3, we all know where he's going.

Also Scar might also be part of the family though every else seems to just ignore this.

Spanners Vs Tango

The Spanners are really angry at Tango for accidentally killing Skizz. They seem satisfied with manifesting his death through belief, but it seems they haven't let him off the hook yet. We all know Bdubs won't help him

Joel might also be mad at Tango since he ate the wheels of his ugly car.

Mumbo & Jimmy still hate Renwood

Mumbo still doesn't trust Martyn after the enchanter fiasco and Jimmy attempts to get revenge for the cow theft. Ren and Martyn have chosen to ignore this, Mumbo seems to have forgotten he was angry, and Jimmy is satisfied that he got revenge.

Ren buys his friends

Ren bought Gem and Tangos friendship through iron. Will this hold up? No.

Gem has beef with team oblivious

Gem hates Pearl and Impulse this season. They are at the top of her inevitable murder list.

● The Final Girls came round for a visit

● Impulse was accused of stealing

● He said he wouldt stela since he knows what it's like to be stolen from

● Gem took this as him amusing her of stealing

● Scott cut him off before he could explain himself by saying he was purposely antagonising them

● Gem cut both of them off by ranting about how much she doesn't trust them

Stellar miscommunication guys, great job as always. Please never change, the series would be way less funny if you did.

Pearl also made it worse by trying to Poison Gem 30 minutes later. Woopsie.

Neither Pearl nor Impulse notice that Gem hates them and the others refuse to tell them.

261 notes · View notes

ohwaitimthewriter · 5 months ago

Text

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

------------

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

#planet of the apes #kingdom of the planet of the apes #fanfiction #noa x human reader #noa x reader #pota #kotpota #oc/reader

406 notes · View notes

ricciardosheart · 1 month ago

Note

Like all the drivers, who do you think will do a nice valentine day like celebration with flowers and dinner and all the stuff ?? and can you elaborate

this is the worst thing I may have written lol, not proud of it at all should I do a part 2 with the other driver ?????

1. Charles Leclerc

The Classic Romantic with Heartfelt Gestures

Charles is deeply in touch with his emotions, which makes him the kind of guy who would plan Valentine’s Day weeks in advance, wanting everything to be perfect. Growing up in Monaco, he knows all the beautiful spots hidden away from the hustle of city life. He’d probably pick a place that’s meaningful to both of you, like where you first met or a favorite quiet corner by the sea. Charles is attentive to detail—expect a well-thought-out dinner reservation at a charming, cozy restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean, or maybe a private rooftop dinner just for the two of you.

He’s a gentleman, so flowers are a must, but they won’t just be any flowers—he’ll know your favorite kind and make sure it’s personal. If you love roses, they’ll be there, but if you’ve once mentioned peonies in passing, that’s what you’ll receive.

The Day:

Morning: You’ll wake up to a hand-written note and breakfast he’s picked out from a local cafe. The note will be full of sweet little reminders of why he loves you.

Afternoon: He’ll take you to an art museum or for a scenic walk, something low-key but filled with moments to talk and connect.

Evening: Dinner will be elegant yet intimate, followed by a moonlit walk along the beach, with Charles wrapping his arm around you and maybe a stop for dessert at his favorite ice cream spot.

Gift: Something deeply personal—a delicate necklace or bracelet, possibly engraved, to remind you of a special moment you’ve shared.

2. Daniel Ricciardo

The Playful, Yet Deeply Affectionate Lover

Daniel is a ray of sunshine, and his Valentine’s Day celebration would be full of laughter, teasing, and spontaneous moments. He’s the guy who wakes you up with a goofy grin, presents you with a bouquet of colorful wildflowers, and tells you he has a surprise planned. His idea of romance blends fun with affection—so the day would start with some sort of adventure, like go-karting or even a silly scavenger hunt around the house or town. He thrives on shared experiences, so the activities would reflect that.

For Daniel, it's all about making you smile, so he might plan something quirky like a paint-and-sip class, where you both create art together. He’ll capture your playful spirit with things that allow you both to let loose and laugh, but he’ll still balance that with quiet moments where he holds your hand and tells you how much you mean to him.

The Day:

Morning: Wakes you up with breakfast in bed, made up of all your favorite things—coffee, pancakes, and a handpicked playlist that he’s curated just for you. He might even crack a few jokes or tell you to get ready for a day full of surprises.

Afternoon: Something spontaneous and fun—think go-karting, hiking, or visiting an amusement park where he can joke around, but he’s still holding your hand the entire time.

Evening: The playful vibe would continue with a casual dinner at a hidden gem of a restaurant or a private, at-home cooking experience where you both make pizzas together. Expect him to serenade you, with fake seriousness, over dinner or sneak in funny comments to make you laugh.

Gift: It could be something with an inside joke—a quirky piece of art or even a photo album capturing fun moments throughout your relationship, proving that he pays attention to the details that make you unique.

3. Lewis Hamilton

The Sophisticated Gentleman with a Deep Emotional Side

Lewis has a polished, luxurious vibe, but he’s also incredibly spiritual and mindful. Valentine’s Day with Lewis would be an experience of relaxation, intimacy, and connection, blending his love for wellness with moments of luxury. He’d begin the day with something to relax and pamper you both—a spa day, perhaps, where you can unwind with massages and enjoy a couple’s treatment. Lewis has a strong sense of adventure, so he might fly you to a romantic destination (Paris, anyone?) for a quick getaway to make the day extra special.

He’s likely to organize a multi-part day, where he surprises you with little thoughtful moments throughout. Lewis is deeply affectionate and tuned into his partner’s needs, so every part of the day would be curated with care. His love language is likely a combination of quality time and thoughtful gifts, so expect something deeply meaningful from him that reflects both his world and your relationship.

The Day:

Morning: A thoughtful breakfast that involves your favorite healthy treats—he’s a fan of wellness, so you might start with a smoothie bowl or avocado toast delivered to your bedside while he plays soft music in the background.

Afternoon: A spa retreat or a mindfulness experience like yoga together, reflecting his love for balance and relaxation. Or, he might fly you to a city like Paris or Rome, where the day continues in style.

Evening: A luxurious dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant or something private and intimate, with candlelight and fine wine. He’ll make sure the evening feels like a grand event, from the venue to his impeccable suit.

Gift: Expect a high-end, thoughtful present—perhaps a designer bag or fine jewelry, but with a touch of personalization, like an engraving or a connection to something special between you both.

4. Carlos Sainz

The Sincere, Down-to-Earth Romantic

Carlos is grounded and sincere, and that translates into his approach to love. He isn’t the type to make grand, flashy gestures, but everything he does will be filled with genuine care and attention. Valentine’s Day with Carlos would feel like home—warm, comforting, and intimate. He’s the kind of guy who would rather have a meaningful, personal dinner with you than do something extravagant, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less special.

Carlos is big on family, so don’t be surprised if he incorporates elements that show how much he values building a life with you. Expect him to make dinner plans at a cozy, intimate restaurant where you can enjoy each other’s company without too many distractions, or he might even cook with you at home—something like Spanish tapas, a nod to his heritage.

The Day:

Morning: Carlos would surprise you with breakfast in bed, or maybe even start the day with a quiet morning walk through a park, hand in hand, just enjoying each other’s company.

Afternoon: A laid-back activity like a scenic drive through the countryside or a visit to a local vineyard, where you can talk and laugh together, building memories in a relaxed setting.

Evening: A cozy dinner at a small, romantic restaurant with lots of good food and conversation. Or, he might cook with you, laughing and enjoying the time spent creating a meal together.

Gift: Carlos would likely give you something thoughtful, like a piece of jewelry with sentimental value or a keepsake that represents a milestone in your relationship.

5. George Russell

The Gentlemanly Perfectionist with Thoughtful Surprises

George is the definition of a gentleman, and his Valentine’s Day would reflect that. He’d plan meticulously, wanting to make sure every detail is perfect. He’s a romantic at heart and would enjoy doing things by the book, but with an extra touch of thoughtfulness to make sure you feel completely special. His day would be elegant and tasteful—expect him to show up with a perfectly arranged bouquet of roses, beautifully presented and likely paired with your favorite chocolates or a sweet card.

He’s also one for fine dining, so he’d probably make reservations at a high-end restaurant with an incredible view, knowing that atmosphere is key. George is the type who takes his time to understand his partner, so every part of the day would be designed around things he knows you love.

The Day:

Morning: You’ll wake up to George making breakfast, complete with freshly brewed coffee and something sweet like pastries or pancakes. He’d present it to you with a smile, making sure you feel pampered from the start.

Afternoon: You might spend the afternoon doing something charming like visiting a museum or going for a scenic drive, talking and sharing moments that feel effortless.

Evening: A reservation at an upscale restaurant with a view, where he’s likely dressed in a sharp suit. He’d hold the door for you, pull out your chair, and give you all his attention over a candlelit dinner.

Gift: Expect something elegant and timeless—he might gift you a beautiful watch or piece of jewelry that’s carefully chosen to suit your style.

6. Lando Norris

The Playful, Laid-Back Romantic with a Fun Twist

Lando’s young, fun-loving personality means that Valentine’s Day with him would be less about formality and more about having a great time together. He’s spontaneous and full of energy, so you can expect surprises throughout the day—he might wake you up with a cheeky “Happy Valentine’s!” and a box of donuts instead of flowers, just to keep things light-hearted.

He’s all about shared experiences, so his day would likely revolve around activities that allow you to bond, laugh, and make memories. He’s not overly traditional, so while you might not get a candlelit dinner at a Michelin-star restaurant, you’ll probably get something that feels much more personal and in tune with your relationship.

The Day:

Morning: Lando might start the day with a cute, casual breakfast, surprising you with something fun like pancakes shaped like hearts or donuts from your favorite bakery.

Afternoon: A playful date activity like bowling, go-karting, or mini-golf—something competitive where you can tease each other and have a good laugh.

Evening: A casual but meaningful dinner, maybe at a fun spot like a food truck park or a quirky, themed restaurant. He’d want to keep things relaxed and full of laughs.

Gift: Expect something playful but thoughtful, like a scrapbook of memories or a fun gadget he knows you’d love—something that shows he’s been paying attention.

7. Pierre Gasly

The Stylish, Thoughtful Romantic

Pierre has a keen sense of style and charm, and he’d bring that into his Valentine’s Day celebration. He’s the type to blend luxury with personal touches, making sure the day feels both special and unique to you. Pierre would likely plan a surprise date or even a mini getaway to somewhere breathtaking, because he’s all about creating moments that feel like something out of a movie.

You can expect him to show up with an extravagant bouquet of flowers, maybe something exotic or rare to symbolize how special you are to him. He’s also very attentive and would make sure every detail of the day aligns with what you love, from the food to the ambiance.

The Day:

Morning: Pierre would surprise you with breakfast in bed, complete with fresh croissants, coffee, and maybe even a handwritten note expressing his feelings.

Afternoon: A surprise trip to a scenic destination—a vineyard, a boutique hotel, or somewhere beautiful where you can take photos and just enjoy being together.

Evening: Dinner at an upscale restaurant with a gorgeous view, where he’d dress impeccably and treat you to a romantic evening filled with great food and conversation.

Gift: Pierre would give you something high-end but meaningful, like a designer handbag or jewelry, carefully chosen to suit your style.

8. Fernando Alonso

The Intense, Passionate Romantic

Fernando’s approach to Valentine’s Day would be filled with intensity and passion, but in a way that’s deeply thoughtful. He’s not into doing things just for the sake of it—he’d plan a day that feels meaningful, where you can both escape from the world and enjoy each other’s company in a quiet, intimate setting. He’s likely to choose a location off the beaten path, maybe a secluded cabin in the mountains or a hidden restaurant that only locals know about.

Fernando would make sure the day feels deeply connected—he’s not one for superficial gestures, so everything he does would have emotional weight. He’s likely to skip the big bouquet of roses for something more understated but significant, like a simple arrangement of flowers you once mentioned were your favorite.

The Day:

Morning: Fernando would start the day with a simple but meaningful gesture—perhaps coffee together while watching the sunrise, reflecting his love for quiet, peaceful moments.

Afternoon: A private, scenic getaway—somewhere far from the crowds, where you can enjoy the beauty of nature or explore a new place together.

Evening: Dinner at a secluded restaurant or a meal he’s prepared himself, with the two of you enjoying wine and conversation in front of a fireplace or overlooking a beautiful view.

Gift: Fernando’s gift would be deeply personal, something that speaks to the connection you share—perhaps an old book he knows you’d love, or a keepsake that ties into a significant memory between you two.

Each of these drivers would bring their own flair to Valentine’s Day, reflecting their personalities in unique ways. Whether it’s Charles’s heartfelt classic romance or Daniel’s playful yet affectionate vibe, every driver has a different way of showing their love. Which one resonates with the kind of Valentine's Day you’d love to experience?

208 notes · View notes