#to be completely honest with you i don’t think this will actually happen

[ragvas]

Your Power Hungry Girlfriend

Petra had always been captivated by the allure of power. From the early days of your relationship, she delighted in playfully taking control, whispering commands in your ear and adopting the roles of both your mistress and goddess. It was all in good fun, especially considering Petra's petite stature at 5' 6" (167 cm), barely reaching your shoulder. Her breasts though, a generous C-cup, complemented her curvy figure, which featured a thick, alluring butt and large, soft, juicy thighs. The way she would puff herself up, trying to assert her dominance and act as if she was the stronger one, always sparked laughter and warmth in your relationship, turning every playful moment into a cherished memory.

But there was something deeper there, too. Petra wasn’t just playing a part; there was a spark in her eyes whenever she bossed you around, a thrill in her voice as she pretended to be this towering, powerful force. She confessed to you once that she fantasized about actually towering over you, about being able to pick you up with ease or looking down at you with that powerful smirk of hers. Her dream was to be everything she pretended—a goddess who could make you feel small and weak with just a glance.

When she discovered MILF MAX, Petra knew it was her chance. The idea was thrilling beyond measure, and she didn’t hesitate. She ordered the pills almost immediately, barely able to contain her excitement. The very next day, the package arrived. You were sitting on your bed and Petra's eyes sparkled with delight as she opened it. “Just think, babe,” she purred, running a finger down your chest. “I could finally be the goddess I was meant to be. Imagine looking up at me, unable to resist. Don’t you want to feel completely owned by me?”

��“Petra, are you sure about this? It seems like a pretty intense change.”

 “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she giggled, her eyes glinting with excitement. “It’s just a little pill. Besides, think of the possibilities! I could finally give you what you’ve always secretly wanted—a real goddess to worship. And let’s be honest, who wouldn’t want to see their girlfriend grow into a stunning giantess?”

You couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and concern as you studied the pill bottle in her hand. The label boasted of 'MILF MAX' in bold letters, promising growth and power beyond imagination. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to see her so powerful. You swallowed hard, trying to imagine her towering over you, her C-cup breasts swelling to unheard of sizes, her thighs thick and mighty. You took her hand, feeling her excitement pulsing through her fingertips. “Okay, but let’s take this slow. We don’t know what side effects might come with this... transformation.”

Petra's eyes gleamed with determination as she nodded. "Don't worry, my love," she said, her voice a blend of playfulness and reassurance. "I've read all about it. We'll take it one step at a time." With a flourish, she popped open the bottle and removed a single blue pill. She placed it on the tip of her tongue and took a sip of water, watching your reaction with a hint of a challenge in her gaze. As she swallowed, she grew visibly excited, her pulse quickening.

You watched as the pill slipped down her throat, the muscles in her neck working as she swallowed it whole. The room grew quiet, filled with anticipation. You felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension, wondering what this would mean for both of you. "What happens now?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Petra's cheeks flushed with excitement as she placed the pill bottle on the nightstand. She took your hand in hers, her grip firm and reassuring. "Now," she said with a wink, "we wait." The seconds ticked by, feeling like hours as you both sat there, her heart beating faster with each passing moment. The room seemed to vibrate with an unseen energy, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to her. She leaned in closer, her C-cup breasts pressing against your arm, and whispered, "Just imagine the things I could do to you when I'm... bigger." Her voice was filled with a seductive promise that sent a shiver down your spine. The air grew thick with anticipation as you felt the first faint tremors of change.

Her eyes grew wide as she felt something stirring within her, a warm, tingling sensation that began in her chest and spread throughout her body. It grew stronger, more insistent, and her heart raced with excitement. She could feel her breasts swelling, filling her bra to the brim, the fabric straining against her newfound curves. Her thighs grew denser, heavier, and she could feel the power coiling within them. "Oh, my," she murmured, her voice thick with wonder. "It's... it's happening!" She looked down to see her thighs spreading, the flesh stretching and expanding. Her jeans grew taut, the seams groaning in protest. You watched in amazement as she grew before your very eyes, her height shooting up to 5' 8" (172 cm) and her breasts now a generous D-cup.

The transformation was unlike anything either of you had ever experienced. Her body was alive with power, growing bigger and more voluptuous by the second. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her eyes had a wild, hungry glint in them. The room itself seemed to shrink around her as her presence grew larger and larger. Her breasts, now a formidable D-cup, strained against her shirt, which grew tighter and tighter until the buttons popped off, revealing her bra, struggling to contain her newfound bounty. Her thighs grew to the point where they could easily crush your head between them. Yet, amidst the overwhelming sensations of growth, she remained acutely aware of your gaze upon her, basking in the awe and admiration she saw reflected in your eyes. She knew this was just the beginning.

You watched, utterly speechless, as Petra grew to 5' 10" (177 cm) with a chest that was now a tantalizing DD-cup. Her moans grew louder, a symphony of pleasure and power, as she revelled in her transformation. Her legs stretched and thickened, and her jeans split at the seams, giving way to her mighty thighs. She was becoming a force of nature before you, and every cell in your body responded to her dominance. The sound of her moan filled the room, a crescendo that seemed to fuel her growth even further.

"Oh, it feels... so incredible!" she gasped, her breathy voice echoing with the intensity of her growth. Her eyes, once filled with excitement, were now dark with passion and desire. Her DD-cup breasts heaved with every breath she took, her newfound power apparent in every inch of her expanding frame. "Look at me," she ordered, her hand gesturing to her chest. "Worship me."

You couldn't help but stare, your eyes transfixed on the goddess unfolding before you. The fabric of her bra was stretched to the limit, the underwire digging into her flesh as it tried in vain to contain her swelling breasts. You could see the imprint of her lacy bra on her shirt, the outline of her nipples poking through. The sight was intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning in closer, your hands trembling slightly. "Petra, you're... you're so beautiful," you murmured, your voice thick with awe.

She beamed at your words, her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. Her growth had slowed to a crawl, but she was far from finished. At 5' 10" (177 cm) tall with DD-cup breasts, she was a vision of power and beauty. The room felt smaller, the air charged with an electric tension that was both thrilling and terrifying. Her eyes locked onto yours, a fierce hunger burning within them. "Kneel," she whispered, her voice now commanding and seductive. "Worship your goddess."

Your legs quivered slightly as you lowered yourself to the floor, the reality of her transformation making your heart race. The fabric of your jeans strained against your growing arousal as you gazed up at her, feeling smaller and more insignificant than ever before. You reached out, your trembling hand touching the warm, soft skin of her thigh, which was now thick as a tree trunk. "Petra, I... I can't believe this," you murmured.

She chuckled, the sound low and thrilling. "You're just now realizing it, love?" she asked, a playful edge to her voice. "I've always been a goddess, but now I finally have the body to match." Her thighs shifted, and you felt the power beneath your fingertips as she grew another 2 inches, now standing at 6 feet (183 cm). Her breasts swelled further, reaching the colossal size of E-cups, the weight of them causing her to lean back slightly to maintain balance.

With a sudden, satisfying rip, her bra and shirt could no longer contain her expanding form. Her huge breasts jiggled free from their confinement, spilling out with a freedom that made her grin. With a fluid motion, she shrugged off the torn remnants of her upper clothing, tossing them aside without a second thought, leaving her almost naked. Only her panties remained, stretched tight over her curvier hips and fuller thighs, clinging desperately to her growing body as if on the verge of surrender themselves.

"Keep worshiping me little man," she urged, her voice huskier, breaths growing deeper and more ragged. Her eyes held a dangerous gleam as she looked down at you. "I can feel it... I'm getting bigger."

You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mesmerizing sight of her growth. Each new inch, each new curve, brought her closer to the divine being she aspired to be. You leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on the soft flesh of her massive thigh, feeling the heat of her power.

The kiss sent a jolt through her body, and she gasped as she felt herself growing again. Her thighs swelled further, she surged to 6' 3" (191 cm), and her breasts grew to a F-cup. "More," she whispered, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. "Keep worshipping me, and maybe I'll grow even bigger."

You nodded, unable to resist the command in her voice. You kissed her thigh again, feeling it thicken and warm beneath your lips. Her skin was like velvet, and you could feel her power pulsating through it. As you worshiped her, you felt the bed shift under her weight, the frame groaning in protest.

The sensation was overwhelming. "Oh, yes," she breathed, her eyes snapping open. "Keep going. Make your goddess grow." Her thighs grew even larger, now capable of crushing you without effort. Her breasts swelled to a G-cup. Her breaths grew deeper, more ragged, as she revelled in the power you were unleashing within her.

Your hands roamed over her thick, powerful legs, feeling the strong muscles rippling beneath her soft juicy skin. You kissed higher, feeling the tremors of growth shudder through her body with each press of your lips. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, the heady aroma of power and desire.

"Mmm, yes," she purred, her voice deepening with every inch she grew. "Your devotion is... exquisite." Her hand reached down, caressing your hair. "Look at me, love," she whispered, her eyes boring into yours. Her height had reached 6' 6" (198 cm) and her breasts were now a monstrous H-cup. "Look at the goddess you've created."

You gazed up at her, the awe in your eyes unmistakable. Her power washed over you, making your knees wobble as you took in her new grandeur. "Petra, you're... you're breathtaking," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

She took a deep, satisfying breath, her H-cup breasts rising and falling dramatically. "I know," she said with a smug smile, her confidence soaring with each new inch of height and volume of flesh. "But don't stop. I'm not done yet."

You nodded, feeling the tremble in your voice as you watched her grow. You kissed her thigh again, feeling it thicken and warm under your touch. Her legs were like marble pillars, and you found yourself lost in the grandeur of her transformation.

"Oh, yes," she moaned, her hand tangling in your hair, gently guiding you higher. Her H-cup breasts bobbed with every breath, and she could feel the weight of them pulling at her chest. Her nipples were hard and sensitive, begging for attention. "Keep going," she urged, her voice thick with desire.

You obeyed, your heart racing as you kissed her thigh, feeling it swell and tighten beneath you. Her skin was warm and inviting, and you could feel the power in every inch of her expanding body. You reached her hip, the curve of her waist now so much higher than before, and you felt a thrill at her dominance.

She gasped as your kisses grew bolder, feeling a surge of growth rush through her. Her body grew to 6' 9" (206 cm), her hips widening dramatically to support her newfound height and weight. Her breasts had ballooned to I-cups. She looked down at you with a mix of lust and triumph, her hand tightening in your hair. "Yes," she murmured, her voice low and commanding. "Make your goddess grow."

Your eyes widened as her thigh grew to a diameter that could easily encompass your entire torso. You felt so tiny in comparison, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and arousal. You kissed higher getting closer to her tits. Her breathing grew heavier, and she shifted slightly, her I-cup breasts jiggling with the movement.

"Oh, I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she grew to 6' 11" (210 cm). Her breasts had reached an unprecedented J-cup size, the weight of them making her lean back against the headboard for support. The bed creaked and groaned with the pressure of her massive body. "Keep going, keep making me grow."

Her voice was intoxicating, a melody of power and seduction that seemed to reverberate through your entire body. As you looked up at her, now towering above you at nearly 7 feet tall, every part of her exuded dominance and raw, overwhelming beauty. Her thighs, thick and commanding, framed her curvaceous hips, and her breasts, now J-cups, spilled forward in glorious abundance, swaying with even the slightest motion she made. Her panties, stretched to their limits, were hanging on by a thread, barely containing her newfound curves.

Petra's smirk deepened as she caught your awestruck gaze. "Do you see now?" she purred, reaching down to stroke your cheek with a hand that felt impossibly large, yet still soft and gentle. "This is what I've always dreamed of. To be a goddess... your goddess."

Her hand shifted, gripping your chin and tilting your face upward so your eyes locked with hers. Her deep brown gaze radiated a mixture of affection and command, daring you to look away but knowing you couldn't. "I can feel the power coursing through me," she whispered, her voice laced with both wonder and lust. "Every inch I grow, every curve that swells, it’s like the world is bending to me. And you, my little man, are here to worship my growing body."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded, your lips trembling with words you couldn't quite form. You placed both hands on her hips, feeling their exaggerated width and the strength beneath the softness. Her skin was warm, almost hot to the touch, as if her body radiated energy.

Petra giggled, a rich, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Good boy," she said, ruffling your hair as if you were her pet. "But I’m not done yet. I will grow bigger. I want to be so massive that you can't even wrap your arms around me, so tall that you'll have to crane your neck just to meet my gaze."

You swallowed hard, torn between a primal awe of her transformation and a heady anticipation for what was still to come. She leaned forward slightly, her enormous breasts brushing against your chest as she brought her face closer to yours. "Don't stop now," she murmured, her lips so close to yours that her breath tickled your skin. "Every kiss, every touch, makes me stronger. Makes me more divine."

Unable to resist, you kissed her again, this time on her soft, plush stomach, marvelling at how her body had expanded so dramatically. The moment your lips touched her skin, a surge of energy seemed to ripple through her. She gasped, arching her back as her body began to grow once more.

Her height surged past 7 feet to 7' 1" (217 cm), her curves expanded even further. Her hips widened to impossible proportions, and her breasts swelled to K-cups, their weight and size making them almost too large for her massive hands to hold. Her panties finally surrendered, the fabric tearing apart and leaving her fully exposed, her body now a testament to power and femininity combined.

Petra laughed, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy as she gazed down at you. "Look at me!" she exclaimed, holding her giant boobs and stretching her legs, testing her newfound size. "I'm unstoppable! I'm... perfect."

You knelt before her, utterly captivated by the goddess she had become. Her body filled the room, her presence overwhelming and inescapable. She reached down, her massive hands cupping your face and pulling you close. "Now," she said, her voice dripping with authority, "show me just how much you adore your goddess. Worship every inch of me, little one. And maybe... just maybe... I'll let you fuck me later."

Your heart raced as you took in her beauty and power. You felt so tiny, so insignificant. Yet, as you looked into her eyes, you knew she cherished you. You leaned in, kissing her softly on the lips. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of sweetness and dominance. You could feel the warmth of her body, the pulse of her power, and you knew you had no choice but to obey. You began to kiss her neck, feeling her veins pulsing with the life force that was reshaping her body. Each kiss brought her closer to her ultimate divine form.

With a mischievous spark in her eyes, she reached for the nightstand, her massive K-cup breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. Her fingers danced over the bottle of MILF MAX, and you watched as she plucked out another pill, holding it up to the light. "Ready for round two?" she asked, a playful grin playing on her lips. The room seemed to hold its breath as she placed the pill on her tongue, her eyes never leaving yours.

You nodded, your voice thick with anticipation. "Yes, goddess," you murmured, watching as she took a sip of water and swallowed the pill. You felt the energy in the room spike again as she grew visibly more excited, her skin flushing a deep shade of pink. Her hands rested on her impossibly wide hips…

Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she felt the pill slip down her throat, the warmth spreading through her like wildfire. Her heart pounded as the anticipation grew, the room seeming to close in around her as she grew. Her breasts swelled to L-cups. "Oh, the power," she groaned, her hand sliding down to cup one of her new, heavy mounds. She grew to 7' 3" (221 cm) tall, and the bedframe creaked under her immense weight. Her thighs thickened and grew, the power in them palpable. "Keep worshipping," she demanded, her voice a mix of hunger and authority. "I want more."

You nodded, feeling the heat of her body, the tremble of power beneath your fingertips as you kissed and touched her, eager to fuel her growth. You traced the outline of her L-cup breasts, feeling the weight of them in your hands, the warmth of her skin against your lips as you kissed along her collarbone, feeling the pulse of her growth as it grew stronger with every touch. "Yes, goddess," you whispered, lost in the grandeur of her transformation.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt your tiny hands on her ever-expanding breasts, her nipples stiffening under your gentle touch. Her body grew taller, reaching 7' 6" (228 cm), her breasts now a staggering M-cup. "Ahh," she gasped, her voice a symphony of pleasure. "You make me feel so... alive." Her eyes rolled back in her head as she grew, her breathing deep and laboured with excitement. She reached down, her hand now so large it could easily enclose your head, and gently guided you to kiss her breasts. "Worship me," she murmured, her voice now a powerful purr.

Your hands trembled as you kissed her soft, warm skin, feeling the unmistakable thrill of her power surging through her body. As you kissed her massive M-cup breasts, you could feel them growing, filling your palms more and more. The weight of them was intoxicating, and you found yourself lost in the act of worship. Each kiss seemed to fuel her growth, and she grew to 7' 8" (233 cm), her chest now a mesmerizing N-cup.

With a deep, satisfied sigh, Petra felt the warmth of your worship spread through her as your lips met her ever-expanding breasts. The sensation was heavenly, making her skin tingle and her core pulse with energy. "Yes," she moaned, her voice dropping to a seductive rumble. "Keep going." Her eyes fluttered closed as she grew to 7' 10" (238 cm) with N-cup breasts that could crush you in a gentle embrace. Her nipples had grown darker and more sensitive, standing out like erotic beacons. She could feel the pill's power coursing through her veins, enhancing every sensation. Her skin grew more sensitive, making even the softest of touches feel like a caress from the gods themselves. "Worship me," she whispered, her voice a siren's call that you couldn't resist. Her hand stroked your head, guiding you to her now-heaving bosom. "Make me even more of a goddess."

You kissed her swollen breasts reverently, feeling the warmth and weight of them in your hands. Her skin was softer than ever. You felt the power of her growth surge through her body, and her breasts swelled to O-cups, each one now larger than your entire torso. You looked up at her, feeling so tiny, so insignificant, but she was your everything. "Yes, goddess," you murmured, your voice filled with reverence. "I'll worship every inch of you."

You leaned in closer, feeling the warmth of her O-cup breasts against your face. Your mouth found her massive, sensitive nipple, and you began to suck it gently. The sound of her breath hitching in pleasure filled the room. You felt her body shiver in response, her power swelling even further. Her hand tightened in your hair, guiding you closer as she grew to 8' 1" (246 cm) tall, the mattress sinking beneath her. Her breasts felt like pillows, so soft yet so powerful. As you continued to worship her, her nipple grew even larger, a hardened peak in the vastness of her expanding bosom. It was as if you were being consumed by the very essence of feminine power, and you loved every moment of it.

Petra's breath grew ragged as you sucked her giant swollen nipple, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through her body. She felt a deep, primal urge to claim you, to show you the full extent of her power. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked down at you with a fierce expression that sent a thrill of fear and desire through your core. "Oh, yes," she growled, her voice deeper and more powerful than ever before. Her breasts grew even larger, now a staggering P-cup, the weight of them making her lean back further. Her hand moved from your head to her own chest, her fingers tracing the edge of her areola. "I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes glazed with passion. "I'm becoming more than you could ever imagine." Her body grew to 8' 4" (254 cm). Her thighs, now like boulders of soft flesh, flexed as she adjusted her position, the bed groaning in protest. "Keep going," she urged, her voice a command that you couldn't resist. "Make me the goddess you've always dreamed of."

You obeyed without hesitation, your mouth moving from one massive nipple to the other, feeling them harden and grow under your touch. Her power was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in the worship of her giant body. Her breasts swelled to Q-cups, the weight of them unbelievable as you tried to take as much of her in your mouth as possible. Her skin was so soft and warm, and you felt the bed shift and tremble as she grew even larger. You were nothing more than a tiny worshipper before her now. You felt her hand grabbing your hair again, guiding you, urging you to take more of her in. You reached up with trembling hands, feeling the warmth of her skin, the power of her growth, and you marvelled at the sheer size of her. Her breath grew heavier, her body tensing as she grew to 8' 7" (261 cm), and her breasts grew to R-cups, threatening to swallow you whole in their godly softness.

The sensation was overwhelming, every touch, every kiss from her adoring servant sending ripples of power through her. Her hunger for power grew stronger, and she knew she needed more.

"Your worship is exquisite," she murmured, her breath hot against your ear as she grew to 8' 10" (269 cm). Her R-cup breasts swayed heavily, the weight of them a delicious burden. "But I am not yet satisfied." Her hand slid down to your neck, gripping it lightly.

You looked up at her and released her giant nipple from your tiny mouth, eyes wide with desire. "Anything, goddess," you managed to murmur, the awe and reverence clear in your voice. You felt her strong hand guiding you between her thighs, the warmth of her touch a brand on your skin. Her legs spread wider, giving you access to her sex.

"Make me feel it," she ordered, her voice now a low, seductive rumble. "Worship me, and I'll let you be the first to experience this body."

You nodded, your eyes glazed with a mix of fear and lust as you positioned yourself between her thick, powerful thighs. Her pussy was a warm, inviting sanctuary.

She watched you with a predatory gaze, her body growing taller and more powerful with every second. Her R-cup breasts rose and fell with her heavy breathing as she grew to 8' 11" (272 cm), her legs now so thick you could barely get your arms around them. "Kiss me here," she purred, her voice dropping to a low, commanding whisper as she guided you to her inner thigh, so close to her core.

You obeyed, pressing your lips to the soft, warm flesh of her inner thigh, feeling the tremble of her body as she grew even more. The scent of her power and arousal was intoxicating. As you kissed her, you felt her legs thicken and grow even more powerful, her thighs now like the trunks of ancient trees. Her breasts grew to S-cups, so large they probably weighted more than you by now.

"Mmm," she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she grew to 9' 3" (282 cm). Her S-cup breasts filled your vision, and you felt the mattress groan beneath her. "More," she demanded, her voice thick with lust. "I need more of you."

You leaned in, placing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin of her thighs, moving closer to her pussy. Her scent was intoxicating, making your mouth water with desire.

Her hand tangled in your hair again, pulling you closer as she grew to 9' 5" (289 cm). Her S-cup breasts were now so massive that they hung low on her chest, almost brushing the bed. She gasped as you were slowly reaching her center, her breath hitching with anticipation. "Yes," she murmured, her voice a seductive purr. "Just like that."

You kissed and licked her inner thighs, feeling her power pulsating with each movement. As your mouth approached her sex, she grew to 9' 7" (292 cm), her breasts now a staggering T-cup. You felt the warmth of her desire as you licked her swollen folds, her moan echoing through the room.

"Yesss," she hissed, her voice a mix of pleasure and command. "Worship me completely." Her body grew another inch to 9' 8" (295 cm), her breasts reaching U-cup proportions. Her grip on your head tightened, guiding your every move as she grew, her dominance absolute.

You felt her power as you tasted her sweetness, her legs trembling with the intensity of her growth. You kissed and licked her swollen labia, feeling her wetness on your lips, her scent filling the room like the most potent incense.

"Oh, you're so good," she murmured, her voice a hypnotic purr. She grew another inch to 9' 9" (297 cm), her U-cup breasts threatening to spill over her giant thighs and engulf you. "Keep going," she ordered, her body growing taut with need.

Lost in the divine taste of her, you didn't hold back. Your tongue delved deeper, exploring the soft, wet warmth of her folds. Her moan was like a siren's song, guiding you as you worshiped her growing body. Her power grew, filling the room like an intoxicating perfume, as she reached 10 feet (304 cm) tall.

With a sudden, overwhelming need to feel you fully submit to her power, Petra grabbed your head with both her massive hands, pressing your face firmly against her giant pussy. Her giant thighs clamped around your head, trapping you in her divine embrace as she grew to 10' 7" (323 cm). Her scream of pleasure was a sonic boom, vibrating the walls as she came.

Overwhelmed by her dominance and the sheer force of her climax, you could only whimper against her thighs, feeling the warmth of her love juices cover your face as she grew to a staggering 10' 10" (330 cm), her breasts now a mind-boggling V-cup.

Her grip tightened, her legs like steel bands around your head as she bucked her hips, her V-cup breasts swaying heavily with each powerful thrust. "Again," she gasped, her voice a command that resonated through you. "Make me cum again."

Her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath, she reached over to the nightstand, her giant hand closing around the bottle of MILF MAX. With a glint in her eye, she plucked out not one, but three pills. "It's time to grow."

She placed the pills in her mouth, savoring the moment before she swallowed them with a dramatic flair, her throat bobbing with the effort. The room seemed to pulse with the power of her transformation, the walls closing in slightly as she grew to 11' 2" (340 cm) almost instantly. Her V-cup breasts swelled to W-cups, the weight of them unbearable to any but her. "Keep worshipping me," she rumbled, her voice a powerful force that made your soul tremble.

You nodded, your eyes wide with wonder and a hint of fear. You kissed her swollen folds again, feeling her grow even larger as your mouth remained on her sensitive skin. The pills had barely had time to dissolve, and yet she was already growing, her breasts reaching a colossal X-cup.

"I can feel it," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "I'm getting closer... keep worshipping me." She grew to 11' 9" (359 cm), and the bedframe groaned in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall. Her breasts now rested heavily on her legs, the weight of them a testament to her unbridled power.

You nodded fervently, your mouth still on her swollen folds, feeling the warmth of her power wash over you. Her skin was like silk, her taste divine. You felt the bed shift again as she grew to 12' 1" (368 cm), her breasts reaching a monstrous Y-cup size, the mattress all but disappearing under her.

With a fierce growl of pleasure, Petra grabbed your head with both her powerful hands, holding it in place as she began to grind her giant pussy against your face. Each movement sent waves of ecstasy through her, her body growing at a terrifying pace. The bed was now a mere plaything beneath her, the headboard cracking as she slammed it into the wall with the force of her pleasure. She grew to a towering 12' 8" (386 cm), her Y-cup breasts swaying like pendulous masses of flesh.

You could barely breathe as she used your face, the pressure from her thighs and breasts increasing with every moment. Her scent was intoxicating, a mix of power and desire that made your head spin. You felt the mattress tearing beneath her weight, the bedframe splintering as she grew to 13' 1" (399 cm). Her breasts swelled to Z-cups, the fabric of the bed groaning and giving way.

"Ahh," she moaned, her voice a symphony of power and need. "I feel like a true goddess now." She grew to 13' 7" (415 cm), her Z-cup breasts jiggling slightly with her every move. "Your worship is everything to me." She leaned back, her breasts spilling over her giant thighs.

Your mouth found her giant clit, and you pressed your lips around it, sucking it with all the reverence and fervor of a devotee at the altar of a divine being. Her legs quivered, and you felt her power pulse through your body as she grew to 14' 2" (432 cm), her breasts reaching a mind-boggling A2-cup size.

Her moan was a low, guttural growl that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house. "More," she demanded, her body growing to 14' 10" (452 cm). Her A2-cup breasts grew to gigantic B2-cups, and the bed frame finally gave out with a deafening crack.

Lost in your worship, you felt her power surge through you as you obeyed. Your teeth gently grazed her clit, eliciting a sharp gasp from her, and you sucked even more fiercely. Her thighs tightened around you as she grew to 15' 4" (468 cm), her breasts ballooning to C2-cups. The bed was now a ruin beneath her, a testament to the power of her transformation.

Her eyes snapped open, and she screamed out your name as she felt the orgasm tear through her. Her body convulsed, and in that moment of ecstasy, she grew explosively. The room trembled with the force of her climax, her body swelling to a towering 16' 1" (491 cm), her breasts now a massive D2-cup. The bed was utterly destroyed, and you felt her power wash over you like a tidal wave.

"Look at me," she panted, her voice thick with satisfaction. "I am a goddess now." Her eyes gleamed with triumph, and she knew there was no going back. Her breasts had grown so large that they now lay on the floor, the tips brushing against it as she moved.

"But I'm not done growing," she purred, a hint of mischief in her tone.

Her gaze was fierce with desire, her eyes gleaming with ambition. She picked up the bottle of MILF MAX, now seemingly small in her giant hand. "I will grow so big," she whispered, her voice echoing with power, "that I'll rule the world, and you, my love, will be my tiny king." With a dramatic flourish, she upended the bottle, allowing all the remaining pills to cascade into her eager mouth. She swallowed them with a grin, watching as your eyes widened in a mix of shock and awe.

Petra moaned deeply, her body surging upward as her curves expanded impossibly, filling the room with her overwhelming presence. "Bigger," she purred, her voice trembling with power, as her growth showed no sign of stopping.

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You can find more like this at my deviantart. 😊

Link: https://www.deviantart.com/ragvas

[squids-and-waffles7]

what if belos makes another grimwalker?

[ ID: A digital comic featuring the main cast from The Owl House, all in their post Thanks to Them designs. In the first panel on the first page, from left to right, Gus, Amity, Hunter, Willow, Luz, and Camila are standing, facing off against an unseen Belos. Hunter is in the very back, with Gus and Luz more to the front, and everyone else is somewhere in the middle.  Luz is holding glyphs out, the top of her face obscured by the panel. She says, “End of the line, Belos. There’s nothing else you can do.” Clouds float by in the background. In the second panel, everyone is posed the same way, except it’s zoomed in on Hunter this time. He has a shocked/confused expression on his face. He whispers, “is that..?” Meanwhile, an (again) unseen Belos says, “ Oh Luz, you really are a fool. You didn’t think I would have anything else up my sleeve? Why do you think I sent Hunter on all those supply missions?”  The third panel is a close up shot of Hunter’s eyes, which are brown. He looks shocked and confused. The text around him says, “The Selkidomus scales.... Those Galdorstones...” Belos continues talking, as the dialouge in the bottom says, “I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out yet. Especially after he betrayed me.” End of Page One.

In the first panel on the second page, a masked golden guard can be seen stepping out of the dark, hand on his mask. A partially obscured Belos in his monster form lurks in the background, head obscured. His hands are on both side of the golden guard, almost like he’s presenting him. Belos continues to speak, as the text on the left reads, “What a shame, really.” The right side reads, “... But, Oh well. I can always do it again.”

The second panel on the second page is a closeup shot of the new golden guard’s eyes, which are the magenta/pink colour hunter used to have. This grimwalker looks ahead, eyebrows furrowed. He has a birthmark on his left cheek and a light scar across his nose, similar to Phillip’s in Elsewhere and Elsewhen. The text below it reads, with Belos still speaking, “... Do tell me though, Hunter.” With a crossed out/ glitched “Caleb” before the word Hunter.

In the last panel on the second page, the new golden guard can be seen from the waist up, wearing Hunter’s old golden guard uniform. He holds Hunter’s old staff, looking ahead determinedly. Belos’ hand rests on his right shoulder, with a looming Belos over his left shoulder in the background. Belos’ head is obscured except for his mouth, which appears to be an almost smile. He says in the text below the panel, “How does it feel to be replaced?” End ID.]

[quietwingsinthesky]

there’s a progression in there, somewhere, of even going from ‘the master might kill me any day now :(‘ to ‘the master is going to kill me :) she’s not going to let someone else do it after all this time’

[filmnamtans]

hi nini! i hope you're having a great day so far. i'm your new secret santa! 🎅sadly your original santa had to withdraw, but never fear! one of their elves is stepping in to make sure you get a gift this holiday season. 🎁💖 i see that 'the eclipse' is one of your favorite dramas. big same! do you have a fave character? a favorite couple? tell me a little bit about why you love the series. i'm so excited to be your santa! take care!

hi lovely!! oh nooo, i hope they’re doing okay!! if you happen to speak to them do tell them im sending them a big hug!! <3 and also thankyou so so much for wanting to step in <3

okay so the eclipse omg uhm so, i cant even begin to tell you how excited i was for this show to air because i loooooooooove first and khao. and then i saw they were doing this together and i highkey lost it agshshd. and now they’re like one of my fav pair of besties i just love them so dearly <3

but yeah unfortunately life happened and i couldn’t watch when it aired but then i binged it in like a day because i wanted to make a moot a lil birthday gift ! and not to self promo but i’m tagging the set just to like explain how much i love akkayan because. i love them so much santa dear fr fr like idk how to tell you. but they’re like this to me. every kind of beautiful and soft and brilliant and i just. okay so i binged it in a day and it’s been a bit. but akkayan are so dear to me because idk how to explain but the set i made really kind of focuses on how ayan kind of ambushes akk and forces himself into akk’s life and all akk can really do is let it happen because ayan is a force yk? but also. ayan is so gentle. and so kind. and so himself through it all. and i just love how akk lets himself be loved if that makes sense? i really don’t know how to explain but you know that post that goes like. soulmates. but in the. i choose you. and i would choose you. over and over and over again. that is what they are to me and i love them forever and yeah.

but also i just really loved the show and it kind of broke my heart a bit but in the best way if that makes sense? and i love when shows do that, because i’m ngl, my brain is shit and i never remember much of the plot. so when a show makes me feel the things the eclipse did. i know it will stay with me no matter what. so yeah. abdjakfja i feel like this was really vague tbh and i am very sorry !!! but i just think akkayan are so so special and that firstkhao did a phenomenal job portraying them and their journey.

pls do tell me what you love about the show! it might help me remember things agshshdjd. thanks so much again for wanting to step in and i hope you have a wonderful rest of your week! (((hugs tightly))) <3

[beatrice-otter]

I’ll be honest, when one party’s aiding and abetting the genocide and the other’s outright gonna kill all my friends, I don’t really care if the fascists “win”. They’ve won already.

You know who would be delighted to hear that? Trump and Putin. The US far right and the Russian government have poured lots of time, effort, and money over the last decade+ into convincing US leftists and liberals that things are hopeless, there's no point in even trying to make things better, and the Democrats and Republicans are functionally interchangeable. They do this because one of the easiest ways for them to win is if the left gives up and stops trying. Every person on the left they can convince to give up in despair brings them closer to complete control. Defeatism on the left actively supports victory on the right.

I think your statement is wrong on a number of levels, both factual and emotional. It comes from not understanding what the actual options are for the US government and the President specifically, either at home or abroad. And it will allow actual fascism to flourish and make the world far worse than it is now.

On an emotional level, the way to address this is to stop doomscrolling. Stop focusing on the worst things happening in the world. Don't ignore them! but don't let them consume you. Start looking for the things that are going well. Find places in your community that you can get involved in making things better. Even if it's only on a small scale like volunteering in a soup kitchen or homeless shelter, it will help you realize that you aren't helpless, that there are things that can be done to make the world a better place. Stay informed about things on a local, national, and international level, but limit how much time and attention you give to things that depress you that you can't affect. Instead of sitting there thinking about all the ways the world sucks and how awful things are, look for things you can do that are productive, and then do them. You'll feel better and you will have made your corner of the world a little better. And you will be a lot less likely to unintentionally fall into the despair, nihilism, and passivity that the fascists want you to be consumed by.

Always remember that the worlds problems are not resting solely on your shoulders, or solely on America's shoulders, and neither is the hope of fixing them. Everyone has things that we can do to make the world a better place, but there are also things that are beyond our control. We can control what we do; we cannot control what others do. We can and should try to make the world a better place, but focusing on the things we can't change has no positive benefits. Focusing on things we can't change accomplishes two things: it makes you feel bad, and it stops you from doing the things you actually can do to make things better. Neither of these things is good for you or anyone else. Look for things you can do and do them. Keep informed on the things you can't change, but don't focus on them.

On a factual level, let's look at "aiding and abetting genocide," shall we?

First, it's important to remember that the US President is not the God-Emperor Of The World. The US government has limits to what it can and can't do in other countries, and both legally and practically. If the US wants to intervene in a problem in another country, there are a variety of things we can do that boil down to basically four categories. It's a lot more complex than this in practice, of course, but in general here are the categories of things we can do:

Send in the troops. Invade, either by ourselves or as part of a NATO or UN operation. (Or maybe just send in a CIA wetworks team to assassinate the head of state.) I hope you can see the moral problems with this option, and also, we've done this a shitton of times over the course of the 20th Century and pretty much every time we've done it, we've made an already awful situation worse. On a moral level, it's pretty bad, and on a practical level, it's worse. Sure, we could stop the immediate problem, but what then? Consider Afghanistan and Iraq. We got rid of Saddam Hussein and the Taliban, and everything went to shit, we spent twenty years occupying Afghanistan with pretty much nothing to show for it. (The Taliban is back in control of Afghanistan.) Things were worse when we left than when we arrived. So this option is pretty much off the table (or should be).

Diplomatic pressure. Now, the thing is, they're a sovereign nation, they don't have to listen to us if they don't want to. We have a lot of things we can leverage--including financial aid--but the only way to force them to do what we want is to invade and conquer, and that only works temporarily. Since we can't force, we have to persuade. This requires us to maintain our existing relationship with the country in question, and possibly strengthen it, because that relationship is what we're leveraging to try and influence them to do what we want them to do. If we do not maintain our relationship, they have no reason to listen to us.

Cut ties and go home. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things and we wash our hands of the whole situation. This keeps our own hands lily-white and pure, but it also means we have zero leverage to work on any kind of a diplomatic solution. They have no reason to listen to us or care about what we think. We can pat ourselves on the back for doing the right thing, but we destroy our own ability to influence anything. Not just now, but also in the future. Let's say the current crisis ends, and then ten years later there's another crisis. If we want to have any effect then, we would have to start from square one to start building a relationship. Cutting ties would be great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, and there are times when it's the only option, but it should be a last resort. If there is any hope of being able to influence things for the better this will destroy it at least temporarily.

Cut ties and impose sanctions. Break off any existing relationship and support, loudly proclaim that they're awful and doing awful things, but also use the might of the American economy to isolate and punish them. We've done this a lot over the 20th Century, too, and it has never actually resulted in the country in question buckling down and toeing the line we want them to. What happens is the sanctioned country has an economic shock (how long it lasts and how bad it gets depends on a lot of factors) and then pulls themselves back together economically, except this time they're more self-sufficient and less reliant on international trade and financial networks. They tell themselves that America is evil and the cause of all their problems, and so not only do they not listen to us, they actively hate us. And they have fewer international relationships, so fewer reasons to care about what the international community thinks about them. So they're most likely to double down on whatever it is they're doing that we don't like. This one is completely counterproductive and utterly stupid. It's great for making Americans feel better about ourselves, but if we actually care about being able to use our influence for good (or, at least, to mitigate evil) this option shoots us in the foot. It encourages other nations to do the very thing we're trying to stop them from doing.

So, with those four options in mind, both option one (invasion/assassination) and option four (sanctions) are off the table for being immoral and counterproductive. That leaves "breaking our relationship and going home" and "using diplomatic pressure" as our only two viable options.

Biden has chosen option two, diplomatic pressure. Yes, he and our government have continued financial support for Israel ... but with strings attached. They have put limits on it that have never been put on any US foreign aid before. They have taken legal steps to lay the groundwork to target Israeli settlers (i.e. Israeli citizens who confiscate Palestinian homes and businesses). We've been hearing reports for months that Benjamin Netanyahu (Israeli Prime Minister, and a far-right-wing demagogue) hates Biden's guts, because Biden is pressuring him to stop the genocide and work towards peace. Biden is maintaining the relationship, and he's using that relationship to try and influence things to curb the violence and pave the way for a just peace settlement of some sort. Biden has also mentioned the possibility of a two state solution where Palestine becomes its own completely separate country. That's huge, because up until this point the US position has always been that Israel is the only possible legitimate nation in that territory. If Biden stopped US support for Israel, it wouldn't force Israel to stop what it's doing ... but it would let them ignore us. It would remove any leverage or influence we might have.

Biden's hands aren't clean. But the only way for them to be clean would be to also give up any chance of influencing the situation or working to protect Palestinians now or in the future. Only time will tell if it works, but I personally would rather have someone who tried and failed than someone who didn't even try. You might disagree about whether this is the right course of action, and there's a lot of room for honest disagreement about the issue (there's a lot of nuances that I'm glossing over or ignoring). But please do acknowledge that Biden isn't supporting Israel because he supports genocide; he's doing it so that he can continue to maintain diplomatic pressure on Israel to stop the violence.

Which brings us back to "aiding and abetting genocide." Trump is not like Biden. Trump is good friends with Netanyahu and backs Israel to the hilt. Trump thinks that all Arabs are terrorists (and all Muslims are terrorists) and genuinely believes the world would be a better place with them dead. Biden is continuing to support Israel, but using that support as influence to get them to stop or slow down. Trump would be using that influence to encourage them.

And those are the two choices. Someone who is trying to curb the genocide, and someone who actively supports it.

I really hope you can see the significant and substantial difference between those two positions.

But let's say that you're right and Biden's policy towards Israel and Palestine is every bit as bad as Trump's would be. If there was nothing to choose between them on foreign policy grounds, there would still be a shitton to choose between them on domestic policy grounds. You admit that the right wants to kill your friends, and yet you don't seem to think that stopping them from killing your friends might be a good thing to do.

"We can't save Palestinians, so we might as well let Republicans destroy the rights, lives, and futures of LGBTQ+ people, women, people of color, people with disabilities, poor people, non-Christians, and anyone else they don't like." "We can't save Palestinians, so why bother to try to save the people we might actually be able to save." "We can't save Palestinians right now, so there's no point in trying to build up a longer-term political bloc that might drag US politics to the left over the long run."

Do you get why there's a problem with that line of thought?

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 8

it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily

Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.

The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 

Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 

The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 

But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 

Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 

I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 

How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?

A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.

Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 

“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”

People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 

“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 

“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 

“No.”

“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”

Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 

Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 

Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 

Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 

But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 

Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 

Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 

“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 

“Um… Spencer?”

“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”

He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”

The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 

“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 

When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 

You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”

“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”

You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”

Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 

“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”

You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 

He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 

Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 

“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 

“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?

“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”

Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 

“I forgot. I thought… he said…”

A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 

“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”

And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 

“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”

“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”

His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 

“You didn’t see my note?”

The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 

“You left a note?”

Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 

It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 

A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 

“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 

Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 

He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”

You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 

“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”

Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 

“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”

“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 

He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 

Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 

There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 

Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 

And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 

“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”

Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.

Now he remembers. 

Long night, huh? I remember those days. 

It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 

Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 

“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 

You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”

If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”

He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 

“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”

You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 

“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 

You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 

“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 

The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.

“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 

You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 

“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”

Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 

“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”

“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”

Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 

“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”

“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”

“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”

Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 

“Like… one at a time? Or…”

He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.

“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 

There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 

“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”

“Spencer—”

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”

“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”

For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 

But that’s not the topic at hand. 

“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”

You swallow. 

“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

About what?

He says your name. No response. 

“Can you look at me, please?”

It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 

“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 

Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”

Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”

You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 

“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”

“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”

He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”

Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?

A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 

“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”

Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 

He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 

“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 

“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”

So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 

You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 

Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 

He can’t not worry. 

And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 

-

part nine

[kingofbodyrolls]

Till We Meet Again (m) | jjk

When your childhood friend that you had a crush on, moved away out of the blue— you never thought you’d see him again. A night swim in the ocean will have you feeling delusional, but the voice that fills your ears— sweet like cotton candy, you’d recognize that voice anywhere, it’s Jungkook.

→ Pairing: jungkook x reader (female) → AUs: mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au → Trope: childhood friends to lovers → Genres: romcom, smut, nostalgia, and so much fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 11.4k → Warnings (general) + triggers: Jungkook’s first time (he is not a virgin lol, but it’s his first time with a human, so), this one is actually pretty mild, bordering on vanilla. There’s talk about how merfolk do it 👀 This is just crack fantasy okay, please don’t take it seriously! There’s some small pov changes in here, because, well, it just happened, lol. → Warnings (explicit): protected sex, oral (both male and female), hair pulling, multiple orgasms, nipple play/sucking, a little bit of dirty talk, begging, pleasing. → Taglist: @allie-is-a-panda @jeonsbabygirlsworld → Read on AO3! → Author’s note: happy birthday to my sweet and lovely friend Lua (@letjungcoook7) 🥳 I wrote this story for you as a present. I know you’re not that much into fantasy, but when I told you about my mermaid ideas, you were excited 🤭 So this first one is for you bby ✨ I really hope you like it, also that everyone else does!

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a collection of series that are stand-alone one-shots, but all of them are set in the same universe. They are slightly connected though 🤭

The rain begins to pour as Jungkook grips your hand, his touch both delicate and powerful, guiding you through the sudden downpour. Moments ago, you were laughing and playing at the local playground, unaware that Mother Nature was about to drench the world in her unexpected shower.

Your heart pounds in your chest and echoes in your ears as you race to keep up with Jungkook, a wide smile spreading across your face. For an eight-year-old, he’s pretty damn fast, making every step feel like a thrilling challenge.

He’s sprinting down familiar streets, and you quickly realize he’s heading towards your home. You’ve never seen his house or met his parents, but your own parents adore Jungkook, joking that he’s your future husband. You’re not thinking that far ahead—you’re just a child, after all. Yet, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a fondness for him.

Let’s be honest, you have the biggest crush on the sweet boy with the round face and big doe eyes that seem too large for his tiny head. His nose is adorable, and his teeth only add to his charm. In short, you love everything about him, even his occasional unreasonable moments. But when he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip in that irresistibly cute way, your heart completely melts.

Your house comes into view, but instead of heading inside, he veers into your backyard, leading you towards the hidden playhouse nestled among the bushes and small trees.

“Shouldn’t we get inside where it’s dry?” you ask, bewilderment etched across your face as you finally reach the playhouse. He crouches down and gently pulls you inside, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No, we’ll be safe here,” he assures you, sitting down with his legs tucked under him. He bites his lip softly, a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

“We should go inside; I don’t want either of us to catch a cold,” you mumble, settling beside him and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. Despite not feeling chilled yet, you know it’s risky to stay out in wet clothes. It’s autumn, and although the air still holds a lingering warmth, you’re aware that it won’t last long.

“Let’s just stay here for a moment, okay?” he pleads, his eyes wide and his signature pout in full effect. You find yourself unable to resist—after all, who could say no to that adorable face?

For a few minutes, you sit there side by side, listening to the sky weep as rain patters softly on the roof of the playhouse. A few droplets sneak inside, but it hardly matters.

Jungkook suddenly turns to you, his expression unreadable— sadness flickers across his features, his normally warm brown eyes darkening to near-black in the dim light. His smile vanishes, replaced by a somberness that seems to weigh heavily on him. You can’t help but wonder what has shifted, why he’s undergone this sudden transformation in demeanor.

“___. Promise me you’ll never forget me?” 

His eyes widen with earnestness, pleading like a puppy’s, and both of his hands seek yours, holding on as if afraid of being forgotten.

Emotions swirl in those hazel eyes, a tumultuous sea of feelings you struggle to decipher. You long to grasp his thoughts, to understand why he’s broaching the topic of forgetting him. But the idea is unfathomable to you; forgetting him seems as impossible as forgetting your own name.

Something shimmers in his eyes—what, you can’t quite discern. They resemble an ocean, deep and mysterious, where one could easily lose themselves if they stared for too long.

“Forget you? Kookie, what on earth are you talking about?” your eyes widen in disbelief, searching his face for any hint of understanding, but finding only confusion.

“It’s just... I like you a lot, and,” he murmurs, stumbling over his words, his hands fidgeting nervously with yours. Then, lifting his gaze to meet yours, he adds with a touch of vulnerability, “I’ll never forget you. You mean the world to me, ___. You’re my friend.”

With a warm smile and a gentle chuckle, you reply, “Duh, silly. Of course you’ll never forget me! And I’ll never forget you either. Now, can we please go inside?”

Jungkook smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as it usually does, leaving a lingering unease in the pit of your stomach. It feels like a storm is brewing within you, mirroring the turbulent weather outside.

“Just promise me. We’ll never forget each other, no matter what,” he implores, his voice firm and unwavering, his eyes reflecting the solemnity of his words.

He clasps your hand with his own, seeking out your pinky finger. 

“Pinky promise?” he asks, his eyes earnest, holding onto your gaze with a mix of hope and determination.

Your eyes flicker with a rapid dance of confusion and amusement. Despite the chaos of the moment, a smile spreads across your face, its warmth seeming to dissolve his frown and alleviate his frazzled state.

“Okay. Pinky promise,” you affirm, intertwining your pinky finger with his, sealing the pact with a vow that feels as timeless as eternity.

You never laid eyes on Jungkook after that—well, you did both retreat indoors, your mother showering Jungkook with love and sweet treats he adored. But after that day, twenty long years ago, he vanished from your life out of the blue, leaving only memories behind.

Why you’re thinking about him now, you really don’t know. Yet, just as he once asked of you, you’ve never let go of his memory—a part of you still holds onto the hope that he might reappear, surprising you around some unsuspecting corner, as if he never left. But with each passing day, the likelihood of such serendipity grows fainter, like the receding tide of the deep blue ocean.

Maybe it’s the nostalgia stirred by your recent home purchase by the sea that brings back memories of your childhood crush. The vast expanse of the ocean triggers thoughts of his eyes—not because of their color, but the way they used to glimmer, reflecting the light with a sparkle that danced like sunbeams on water.

Long strolls on the beach prove therapeutic, gradually pushing thoughts of your childhood crush to the recesses of your mind. With each step along the sandy shores, you uncover treasures—seashells, smoothed by the relentless embrace of the waves, and other mementos of seaside serenity.

You truly love the beach, which is why you chose to buy a house so close to the shore. It’s not just because the ocean reminds you of a certain childhood friend you wish you could see again. His sudden departure has always baffled you—sometimes you wonder what really happened. 

Was he kidnapped, or did he simply leave without a word? 

Why would he vanish without telling you first, especially if he just had to move?

It’s after dinner, and you find yourself lounging on your terrace, gazing out at the ocean. The view is breathtaking, and when the wind blows just right, the salty breeze gently caresses your skin. You smile a wistful smile as you raise your glass to your lips. Today is a red wine day; despite the heat, the perfectly chilled glass complements the warmth of the evening air.

With your legs propped up on the lounge chair, reclined for maximum comfort, you gaze out at the vast expanse of the sea. You can’t help but wonder about the treasures and secrets it holds, a mysterious world teeming with countless species you’ve never even heard of that call it home.

Mankind has long tried to conquer the world beneath the waters, yet the pitch-black depths of the ocean remain largely unexplored, beyond the reach of even the best diving gear. Though you’re no diver, the allure of the sea’s hidden secrets captivates you, and you dream of one day uncovering its mysteries.

A sweet, velvety sound caresses your ears, prompting you to sit up and listen more closely. The enchanting melody wraps around you, and you realize it’s a voice—someone is singing.

God, it sounds beautiful—captivating, sweet, and strong, yet tinged with sorrow. The melody weaves its way into your soul, leaving you spellbound.

For a moment, you wonder if it’s all in your head—a fleeting hallucination brought on by too much wine. But a glance at your glass and the nearly full bottle beside you confirms you’ve barely finished your first glass.

The voice is real, and it carries an eerily familiar tone. Intrigued, you rise from your comfortable lounge chair and make your way down to the sandy beach that has been your backyard for the past few days.

Your bare feet sink into the warm, fine sand, its texture caressing your skin. You glance around, searching for the source of the beautiful voice, but the beach remains empty, with no one in sight.

There it is again—the singing, so achingly beautiful that it sends shivers down your spine and raises the hair on your arms. Your feet carry you along the shoreline, but despite your efforts, you can’t pinpoint the source of the enchanting voice.

Then, just as you’ve been pacing up and down the shoreline, the voice abruptly vanishes—quiet as a still puddle after a rain shower. With a strange unease settling in your gut, you reluctantly turn back toward home. The voice felt hauntingly familiar, yet somehow elusive—like a distant memory struggling to resurface.

For the past few days, the hauntingly beautiful voice has serenaded you night after night, drawing you out to the beach in search of its mysterious owner. Despite your efforts, luck eludes you, and each failed attempt leaves you with a sense of frustration, reminiscent of the pout Jungkook used to give you whenever you were being unreasonable with him.

Your frustration mounts as the elusive voice continues to evade you, its hauntingly familiar tone persistently tugging at the corners of your mind.

Frustration coursing through your veins, you slip into your bikini, determined to quell the restlessness with a night swim in your aquatic backyard.

As the sand caresses your feet, you stroll down to the shoreline under the watchful gaze of the moon, its ethereal glow casting a mesmerizing sheen upon the water. The scene is nothing short of magical, and as the lukewarm water embraces your skin, a delightful chill courses through your body—not from the cold, but from the familiar embrace of your second home. The ocean has always held a special place in your heart, and in this moment, it feels like a sanctuary away from the world.

Surrendering to the embrace of the water, you allow its gentle currents to envelop you, cradling you in its soft embrace as you yield to its rhythmic sway. With only your head above the surface, you venture further into the depths, relishing the sensation of weightlessness and freedom that comes with each stroke.

A soft, melodic sound tickles your ear—it’s that captivating voice again! This time, it resonates clearer, as if drawing you in closer. Driven by curiosity, you swim towards the source of the sound, your heart pounding with anticipation. As you approach a cluster of rocks and a looming cliffside, you spy a cave nestled within its embrace, beckoning you with its mysterious allure.

The cave envelops you in darkness, yet the gentle glow of the full moon dances upon the water, casting an ethereal light that transforms the rocky surface of the cliff into glistening crystals. The voice reverberates off the walls, its echoes amplifying its haunting melody. Drawing closer, you discern a figure resting their head upon a rock, their silhouette illuminated by the moon’s gentle caress.

Intrigued, you inch closer, your curiosity piqued. As you approach, you discern the figure of a man, likely around your age, or perhaps a bit younger, reclining against the stone, his body partially obscured by its shadowy embrace.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice echoing softly in the cave. Instantly, a pair of dark brown eyes fixate on yours, their intensity sending a shiver of recognition down your spine.

As you hear something splashing nearby, you swiftly swim to the corner of the cave. Pulling yourself up onto the rocky surface, you cast an inquisitive gaze at the stranger, who remains silent, their expression enigmatic.

“Are you okay?” you inquire, met with silence as the man attempts to retreat, concealing more of his body beneath the murky depths, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath the surface.

You approach cautiously, taking slow, measured steps, careful not to startle the man. His features are striking—sharp, chiseled jawline, eyes wide and intense, lips full yet thin, and a cute nose that triggers a flood of memories from long ago, memories that have never faded.

“Jungkook?” you gasp, the name escaping your lips like a sudden gust of wind, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you—happiness and hurt colliding like waves crashing against the shore, overwhelming you in their tumultuous embrace.

The man cautiously peers over the rock, his bare torso partially shielded from view. The sight of him shirtless prompts a flurry of questions in your mind—why is he here, and why is he without a shirt?

Is that a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm?

You can’t help but notice the strength in his neck, the prominent veins tracing a path down to his defined clavicle and broad shoulders. Damn it you really shouldn’t, but you find yourself shamelessly admiring his physique, a flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks.

“___?” His voice breaks the silence, light and airy, reminiscent of a summer breeze whispering through the leaves.

“Is it really you?” you inquire, lowering yourself to sit in front of him, your gaze sweeping over his features once more. His face holds a striking resemblance to someone from your past, now matured with the passage of time. Yet, those deep, familiar ocean eyes leave no doubt—it’s unmistakably Jungkook.

“Yes, it’s me,” he confirms, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. The boyish charm of his smile clashes with the maturity reflected in his sharp features, creating a captivating contrast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquire, a mix of surprise and curiosity evident in your voice. The sight of him in this cave, serenading the darkness with his song, leaves you utterly bewildered.

“Just taking a breather,” he chuckles, his gaze shamelessly roaming over your form, sending a subtle shiver down your spine.

“Hold on a second,” you exclaim, frustration tinged with urgency in your voice as you scratch your head in bewilderment. “What brings you here? You vanished without a trace. What happened?”

Another splash in the water draws your attention, and you track the sound to behind Jungkook—then, you spot it: the tail. It’s a mesmerizing shade of purple, with delicate variations of violet shimmering in the moonlit cave. The translucent fins catch the light as they sway gracefully. The scales, rough and scaly, add to the otherworldly beauty of him.

Your jaw nearly hits the rocky surface—if it could, it surely would. You gaze, utterly transfixed, at the figure before you—your childhood friend, now revealed as a mermaid. No, a merman. The revelation leaves you reeling. How is this possible? You’ve heard of undiscovered species lurking beneath the waters, but this is your friend, someone you’ve known for years with two perfectly functional feet and no hint of a scaly tail.

“___,” he begins, his voice filled with warmth and genuine curiosity. “It’s been such a long time. How have you been?” His eyes radiate happiness, but you’re still reeling from the revelation before you. Seeing him again—something you’ve dreamt about for years—leaves you speechless.

“No,” you assert firmly, a rush of urgency in your tone. “You don’t get to ask questions yet. There are so many things I need answers to from you first.” Determined, you attempt to peer over the rock he’s perched on, desperate for a closer look at the astonishing sight before you—your childhood friend now bearing a tail, a reality that defies all logic.

“Alright, fire away,” he responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “But give me a moment to settle in.” With a graceful movement, he hoists himself out of the water, his biceps flexing as he perches on the rock, his tail lazily swaying in the water. Bathed in the soft glow of the cave, his majestic purple tail shimmers, leaving you in awe of his breathtaking beauty.

He seems big and broad shouldered, the tattoos look intricate, reflecting ancient scribbles and drawings on his arm.

You plop down on the rugged surface, your mind reeling with disbelief—it all feels like a surreal dream. Unable to resist, you extend your hand to touch him, as if to confirm his reality. Your index finger tentatively prods his cheek before trailing down to his chest. The moment your touch meets his pecs, you’re met with a jolt of realization—his muscles are firm, real, and undeniably tangible beneath your fingertips, sending a surge of heat through your veins as you inadvertently find yourself groping his impeccable chest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his eyes darting from your hand on his chest back to your face. Embarrassment floods your cheeks with a deep crimson as the realization of your actions hits you. You’ve been feeling the solid warmth of his chest, lost in the surreal moment.

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry!” you blurt out, yanking your hand back as if it’s been scorched. “I didn’t mean to touch you like that!” Embarrassment floods through you, your heart racing as you pull away from the unexpected intimacy.

Damn it, get a grip, you chastise yourself silently. “I just wanted to make sure this is real,” you confess aloud, your voice trembling slightly with lingering disbelief.

You release a nervous chuckle, the sound betraying the disbelief still coursing through you. But as you take in the surreal sight before you—Jungkook, undeniably real and impossibly transformed—you can no longer deny the truth. Your childhood friend is here, right in front of you, and he is, astonishingly, a merman.

“Oh, this is very real,” he teases, his voice rich and layered with an enigmatic quality that you can’t quite decipher but are desperate to understand.

“Are you really a merman?” you ask, your gaze drifting back to his tail, mesmerized by its iridescent beauty. It’s breathtaking, almost otherworldly.

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lips, his eyes glimmering with a wistful nostalgia that tugs at your heartstrings.

“What happened to you? Why did you leave?” you demand, the urgency in your voice revealing the depth of your longing and confusion. These are the questions that have haunted you for years, the ones you swore you’d ask if you ever saw him again. Why did he disappear without a word, leaving you behind?

You watch as his expression shifts, becoming more guarded. “My parents and I had to move back home... to the ocean, I mean,” he explains, his face twitching as if struggling to mask an inner pain. “A rift in a tectonic plate devastated my village. Everything was destroyed, so we had to return and help rebuild.”

You study him closely, a lump forming in your throat as a myriad of emotions swirl within you.

“Okay. But why couldn’t you come back when you were done?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and hurt. It’s apparent that there are unresolved feelings of abandonment lingering within you, a reminder of the wounds you may need to address with your therapist.

“I really wanted to, but my parents and the village elders forbade it. We dedicated ourselves to rebuilding our village, but returning to the surface was strictly prohibited,” he explains, a palpable sadness tinting his words. It’s evident that he had yearned to reunite with you, but the weight of his responsibilities as a merman ultimately kept him bound to the depths of the ocean.

“Why are you here now? And are there others like you?” you inquire, a mix of bewilderment and intrigue coloring your tone. As you press for more information, you notice him visibly relax, his features softening once again in response to your curiosity.

“Well, I’ve been here for quite a while. I come up here to sing, often thinking of you, actually,” he confesses, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. “And yes, there are others like me,” he adds with a chuckle, the sound carrying a mixture of amusement and friendly banter.

“Thinking of me?” you stammer in amazement, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of his words settles in.

“Yeah. I’ve missed you since I had to leave, and I’ve been searching for you for years. Meeting you again feels like a dream come true,” he confesses, his voice filled with palpable joy at the reunion with a long-lost friend. His words send a surge of warmth through you, igniting a flutter of emotions you thought long buried. As your heart skips a beat, you’re struck by the realization that the childhood crush you harbored for him still lingers, stronger than ever.

“I’ve missed you too,” you exhale, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with emotion. With a gentle touch, you extend your hand, laying it atop his on the rough surface of the rock, a silent reassurance of your enduring bond.

“How come you’re a merman? You were just a boy last time I saw you…” you begin, not really knowing how to ask the question that you have swirling in your mind.

“You want to know if something happened to me, to make me like this,” he gestures with his other hand over his body— it’s well defined, muscles big and strong, “or if I’d always been a merman?” His words hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the mysteries surrounding his transformation.

You choke on air with how effortlessly he articulates your thoughts, a skill he’s always possessed. You nod in agreement, the intensity of your curiosity driving you to lean in closer, desperate to unravel the enigma of his transformation.

“I’ve always been a merman. My parents chose to live as humans— they’re merfolk too, by the way. But they wanted me to experience life on land. So, despite appearances, I’ve always been like this,” he explains, a smile gracing his lips as he playfully flips his tail in the water, sending ripples dancing in his wake.

“How… How do you transform?” you ask, studying him intently once more. Despite his remarkable change, he still retains that familiar essence, stirring up the remnants of the childhood crush you thought you’d outgrown. A flush of warmth creeps across your cheeks, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

“Well. When I’m out of water for an extended period, I assume my human form. And when I’m in contact with water, I revert to my merman form,” he explains, a soft smile gracing his lips. As his fingers intertwine with yours, his touch is tender, each stroke a gentle caress that ignites a spark of warmth within you.

You nod, absorbing his explanation, but then you gasp as his words sink in, a realization dawning on you. “Do you transform when it rains then?” you blurt out, the question bursting forth with newfound urgency and curiosity.

His laughter fills the air, rich and unrestrained, sending ripples of warmth through your chest. Your gaze instinctively drifts to his chest, where the rhythmic movement of his pectorals accompanies the melody of his mirth, a captivating display of joy that you can’t help but revel in.

“No. That wouldn’t be very practical. It has to be seawater, or simply prolonged exposure to water can also do the trick,” he explains, his tone laced with a hint of amusement at the notion of rain-induced transformations.

You nod in understanding once more. “Nothing about this is practical, Jungkook,” you remark, a hint of incredulity lacing your tone.

He chuckles again, withdrawing his hand from yours and gently cupping your cheek. His touch sends a surge of warmth coursing through you, like a dormant ember suddenly ignited into a flickering flame, ready to blaze anew.

He locks eyes with you, his gaze unwavering and intense, brimming with depths of emotion that beckon you to explore. It’s like peering into an uncharted ocean, filled with mysteries waiting to be discovered. Despite the unfamiliarity, you’re drawn to dive deep and lose yourself in the depths of his gaze.

“Do you remember our promise?” he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble, yet resolute. Seeking solace in the familiarity of your gaze, his words carry the weight of cherished memories and unspoken vows.

“Of course,” you respond with a bittersweet smile, lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger. “I’ve never forgotten you, Jungkook,” you affirm, the weight of years past and promises kept evident in your touch.

He hums a melody, its tune unfamiliar yet strangely soothing, and in that moment, you find solace in the sound of his voice, the melody a balm to your racing heart. “I’ve never forgotten you either, ___,” he confesses, his words carrying the weight of shared memories and enduring connection.

With his other hand, he reaches out, extending his pinky finger to intertwine with yours, creating a connection that feels like two worlds colliding, merging into one. It’s a moment of transcendence, where past and present converge, binding you both in a promise that spans the depths of time.

“I never got to tell you this on that day, and it has haunted me since, but I like you,” His words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken truths and a vulnerability that echoes through your soul. As he gazes into your eyes, it feels like he’s peeling away layers of your being, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, despite the fabric that shields your skin. With each moment, he draws nearer, his touch a gentle anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling between you.

“I like you too,” your confession hangs in the air, suspended between you like a delicate thread woven with anticipation and longing. With every word, you feel the weight of your emotions, amplified by the closeness of his presence. As your breath brushes against his skin, you can almost taste the bittersweet tang of desire mingled with the salt of the ocean breeze.

In his embrace, you feel cherished, cocooned in a world where only the two of you exist. His gaze, laden with affection, dances between the depths of your eyes and the soft curve of your lips, a silent symphony of desire. You catch the subtle flicker of his pupils as they dilate, mirroring the fluttering of your heart. A fleeting gesture, your tongue brushes against your lips, a subtle invitation to bridge the divide between longing and fulfillment.

In the hushed sanctuary of the moonlit cave, time seems to stretch into a languid dance, enveloping you both in its tender embrace. The world outside fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the rhythmic melody of your shared breaths echoing off the rocky walls. Your gaze descends to the plush pinkness of his lips, a tantalizing invitation begging to be explored. A surge of curiosity and desire courses through you, igniting a tempest of longing as you ponder the intoxicating possibility of tasting his kiss.

“Can I kiss you?” His question hangs in the air like a delicate promise, and you feel a rush of anticipation flooding your senses, the tension between you crackling like electricity. His words, soft yet laden with unspoken longing, send a tremor of excitement coursing through your veins. In that suspended moment, you find yourself caught in the irresistible pull of his gaze, his eyes a sea of swirling emotions mirroring your own. With a silent plea echoing in your heart, you grant him permission with a subtle nod, your breath hitching in anticipation as you yearn for the moment when his lips will meet yours.

His tattooed hand, warm and possessive, slides from your cheek to the back of your neck with a gentle urgency, pulling you into him as if he’s afraid you might slip away. When his lips meet yours, it’s like a collision of stars, soft yet electric, igniting a wildfire of sensation that courses through your veins. As he pulls back, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort, you’re overcome with a rush of warmth and affection. With a soft chuckle escaping your lips, you reach for him, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair as you draw him closer. The second kiss is a revelation, a crescendo of desire and longing that leaves you breathless and craving more. His hum reverberates against your lips, grounding you in the intensity of the moment, like a lifeline in a sea of swirling emotions.

You draw back reluctantly, a sigh escaping your lips as you feel the bittersweet ache of parting. “It’s getting late,” you murmur, the weight of reality settling in as you remember your responsibilities waiting beyond the cave’s embrace. 

“When will I see you again?” the question hangs between you like a delicate thread, woven with hope and uncertainty, longing for reassurance in the face of impending separation.

A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and he licks his lips with a playful flick of his tongue, relishing the way your senses are all tangled up in a whirlwind of emotions—frazzled yet utterly blissed-out in his presence.

“Soon,” he assures with a reassuring smile, his touch lingering for a moment longer as his thumb caresses your lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “You can always find me here, or just listen for my voice. But duty calls back home. I’ll return, I promise.” With that, he pulls away, releasing you from the spell of the moment, but leaving behind a promise that lingers in the air like the echo of his voice in the cave.

Reluctantly, you rise, dusting off imaginary particles from your skin with a sweep of your hands, lingering in the moment a bit longer. With a soft smile, you regard him, your eyes filled with a mixture of fondness and longing. 

“You really have a beautiful voice, Jungkook,” you murmur, the words carrying a weight of sincerity and admiration, like a gentle breeze in the tranquil cave.

With a smile that seems to illuminate the entire cave, he gracefully immerses himself in the water, causing it to dance and ripple around him like liquid poetry in motion.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” you express, your voice tinged with a mixture of longing and affection, each word carrying the weight of the emotions you hold for him.

“I’ll be counting the moments until our paths cross again,” he murmurs softly, his words carrying on the gentle breeze as he fades into the depths below, leaving you with the lingering promise of his return.

Jungkook had indeed kept his word. Though you trusted him, a small part of you feared you’d never see him again. Yet, the very next day, he reappeared in the cave, serenading you with a song as you basked in his presence. This enchanting ritual has continued every day for the past two weeks, each encounter deepening your bond and making the fear of losing him fade away.

So far, your encounters have been limited to kisses, which you absolutely love—his lips are incredibly soft. Yet, lately, you’ve found yourself yearning for more. The stress of your upcoming housewarming party, which you’ve shared with Jungkook, isn’t helping. You think that letting loose with him might be just what you need to de-stress.

“Why are you having this party again if you don’t really want to?” he asks, genuinely curious. He can’t fathom why you’d willingly burden yourself with the hassle of pleasing others when it clearly brings you no joy.

“I guess it’s just expected of me,” you muse, looking down at the sparkling water as his tail gently plays with it, creating ripples. “My friends are coming, my parents too. They haven’t seen my new house yet.”

He smiles at you, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “It’s nice that you’re doing this for them, but it sounds like you’re forcing yourself. That makes me a bit sad.”

You shake your head and put up your hands in defense. “Yeah, but it’s okay. It’s not like I dislike it completely. It’ll be nice seeing my friends again.” You pause, a sudden idea lighting up your face. 

“You could also come, you know?”

His face brightens momentarily, but then he slumps down in the water, looking a bit deflated. “I’d love to come, but I’m not sure I can. My hyungs need my help in the village; one of them has been missing for days, and we’ve been searching for him without luck…” His voice trails off, a mix of concern and disappointment etched on his face.

You feel a twinge of sadness for him and say softly, “I’m so sorry, Jungkook. I hope you find him soon. Just know you’re always welcome, no matter when.”

His smile returns, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he speaks. “Thanks. Jimin usually never wanders off, that’s why we’re afraid something has happened to him.”

You envelop him in a hug, offering what comfort you can, despite not knowing Jimin. You silently pray for Jimin’s swift return—after all, you understand more than most the ache of missing a piece of your heart.

A few days later, the soft strains of music fill your home, weaving through the laughter and chatter of old and new friends alike, and the comforting presence of your parents, whose faces you haven’t seen in what feels like an eternity.

As you mingle with your friends, catching up on stories and laughter, time seems to dance away unnoticed. It’s only when the gentle kiss of the evening breeze starts to nip at your skin that you realize how long you’ve been engrossed in conversation with your colleague out on the terrace. With a shared chuckle at the sudden chill, you both retreat inside, seeking the warmth of good company and lively conversations.

Her joke evokes laughter from you, but the moment is abruptly interrupted by her sudden silence, drawing your attention to where her finger points. In the kitchen, your parents stand, their faces alight with smiles, engaged in conversation with a tall, dark-haired man whose locks curl gently at the ends.

Her curiosity piques as she nudges you with a mischievous grin. 

“Who’s that hot man with a tattooed arm over there talking with your parents?” she asks, her voice tinged with intrigue, prompting both of you to draw nearer to the kitchen.

As you draw closer, disbelief gives way to certainty: it’s unmistakably Jungkook standing beside your parents.

“___! You never mentioned Jungkook’s return! How long has it been, twenty years?” your mother exclaims, her smile radiant as she pinches Jungkook’s cheek affectionately, treating him like a long-lost child returned home.

Your dad’s eyes sparkle with the warmth of a long-awaited reunion, as if he’s just rediscovered an old friend, and you can’t help but chuckle at the scene unfolding before you.

Your mother reaches out to embrace Jungkook, her petite frame enveloped by his much larger one, but he indulges her with a warm hug, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

With a playful grin, your friend nudges you, her eyes darting between you and Jungkook, a knowing glint sparkling in them. “Who is this handsome man?”

As you break from your reverie, you manage a sheepish grin, your voice carrying a hint of nostalgia and excitement. “This is Jungkook, my childhood friend. We go way back.”

“He’s hot,” your friend’s observation cuts through the air with a boldness that makes you chuckle, her eyes gleaming mischievously as she sizes up Jungkook.

Your mother’s laughter fills the room, a warm melody that dances around the air. “He really is! You’ve really outgrown that cute bunny phase you had,” she teases, her fingers playfully squeezing Jungkook’s rather impressive biceps.

“Mom! You’re embarrassing me,” you groan, a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation painting your voice as you reach for Jungkook’s hand, eager to escape the teasing clutches of both your parents and your friend.

As you pull him away, Jungkook chuckles softly, following you into the living room where you both sink into the inviting embrace of the couch.

Amidst the chatter filling the room, engaging in conversation with Jungkook proves challenging, his words often drowned out by the lively voices of others around you.

“Would you like to step out for a bit? Take a stroll along the beach?” he proposes, his gaze alight with anticipation, as if the idea itself holds a promise of something wonderful.

With a nod, you clasp his hand, a silent agreement passing between you. But before you step out into the night, you make a quick detour to your friend, informing her of your plans for a seaside stroll.

She scrutinizes you with the intensity of a hawk, then delves into her purse, emerging with something in hand. “Here,” she says, passing it to you. 

“I have a feeling you might need this.”

You accept the small foil packet, its presence alone sending a jolt of recognition through you. Your cheeks and ears ignite with heat, and you hastily tuck it into your jeans pocket, your gratitude tinged with embarrassment. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice slightly breathless.

As you begin to turn away, she shoots you a playful wink, causing you to release a sigh of embarrassment, your cheeks still flushed with color.

Outside, you stroll barefoot on the sand, reveling in the moment with Jungkook by your side—both of you connected to the earth beneath your feet. His presence captivates you, his figure tall and striking against the backdrop of the beach. Shoulder-length hair dances around his face, adding to his allure. With each step, you admire his physique—broad shoulders tapering to a defined waist, muscular thighs moving with purpose. Clad in a white tank top, his biceps speak of strength, while his snug blue denim jeans accentuate his powerful legs, showcasing a silhouette that commands attention.

His human form is undeniably beautiful, but it pales in comparison to the breathtaking splendor of his merman form. This realization brings a soft smile to your lips, and a blush warms your cheeks.

You walk with him along the beach, your hand nestled comfortably in his, the silence stretching between you like a warm blanket. It feels like an eternity before he clears his throat, a deep rumble that breaks the quiet. “Do you want to go to the cave?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hopeful anticipation.

You look up at him, captivated by the soft, teasing smile playing on his lips. “Yeah,” you agree, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.

“Cool. I know a way to get there from land,” he says, pulling you along the shore. Your feet sink into the cool sand with each step, the waves gently lapping at your ankles as you follow him, while he makes an effort not to let the seawater touch him.

“You do? I thought it was only accessible from the sea,” you chuckle, feeling the excitement build as he leads you closer to the rocky formations along the cliffside.

“I know a lot of hiding spots,” he giggles, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he reveals a narrow, almost hidden entryway in the cliffside, just big enough for him to slip through.

You step into the familiar cliffside cave where you’ve been meeting for the past few weeks. Nestling into the small sandy patch, the only section not enveloped in stone, you feel a comforting sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

“Much easier to talk in here, huh?” Jungkook chuckles, leaning back against the cave wall. The gentle echo of his laughter fills the space, making it feel cozier. You nod, a soft, airy chuckle escaping your lips as a blush warms your cheeks. Sitting beside him, the intimacy of the cave amplifies every shared glance and whispered word.

You look up at him, your eyes fluttering bashfully. “I don’t really want to talk anymore,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to talk,” he says, his voice deflating as a pout forms on his lips. That’s when it hits you—he has no idea how much you crave him, how badly you want to feel him, everywhere.

You turn your body towards his, your hands caressing his face as you pull his face towards yours. “I want to do more than talk,” you quip, your voice small but steady. “I want to kiss you and so much more.”

Something seems to snap in him, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his cheeks. He moves his face closer to yours, your noses almost touching. “So you want more?” he teases, his voice a tantalizing whisper against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, the word escaping in a breathless pant as you close the distance between you. Your lips meet his in a fervent, passionate kiss, igniting a fire that blazes between you. Your hands hold his cheeks in place, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch, as he responds eagerly, deepening the kiss with his tongue, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

When you part, both of your eyes are wide, pupils dilated with desire, reflecting the intensity of the moment.

“I want you, Kook,” you plead, your breath mingling with his, your foreheads pressed together in an intimate connection.

Your fingertips trace the lines of his body, dancing over the contours of his chest until they halt at the brink of his jeans.

“I want you too, ___, but I—” he pants, his words cut short as you start to rub your hand over his clothed dick, eliciting a deep, gratifying groan from him.

You keep teasing him with your hand, feeling the growing hardness beneath your touch, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. You lick your lips, watching as his face contorts in pleasure, every subtle reaction driving you wild with desire.

“Hmm, you like it?” you ask, positioning yourself directly in front of him, locking eyes as you continue your ministrations.

“Yes, but I—” as your hand maintains its pressure on his crotch, he stammers out his words, his voice a mixture of desire and hesitation.

“What, are you a virgin?” your playful tease hangs in the air, accompanied by a soft chuckle, as you lean in closer to him, your breath warming his ear with your whispered words.

“No!” His response is hurried, almost defensive, tinged with a hint of embarrassment. “I’ve just never done it with a human before…” he confesses, his tone a mixture of vulnerability and curiosity.

You draw back slightly, scanning his face, catching a glimpse of uncertainty mingled with desire flickering in his eyes.

“I can guide you through it, show you what feels good. Trust me, you’ll enjoy every moment,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of confidence and anticipation.

“I mean, Jin hyung already told me how it works,” he pants, his gaze fixated on your hand as it works its magic, his hips instinctively moving in rhythm, “I’ve touched myself before, out of curiosity, but I’ve never had sex with a human before.”

Your expression softens, recognizing that this is a new experience for him, so you resolve to take it slow.

“Mermen don’t exactly have dicks like humans,” he chuckles, his movements against your hand betraying his eagerness for friction.

You lean in again, teasing him, “How exactly do merfolk have sex?”

He chuckles, smirking at you, “Well, it’s more like a mating ritual, honestly. There’s some swimming around, almost like a dance, rubbing against each other. It’s quite primal and intimate, in its own way.”

You frown, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief evident on your face. “That’s it?”

He nods, his expression both amused and sincere.’

“No teasing? Release of bodily fluids? Making out? Sticking things into holes?” you list, your expression a mix of incredulity and disappointment. God, you really do like sex and all of the things you just listed. Mermaid intercourse sounds slightly boring in comparison.

“No sticking things into holes sadly—except for tongue kissing,” he chuckles, masking his disappointment with a playful grin, though you sense a tinge of longing in his eyes.

“But you get to try that now, okay? Then you can tell all your friends how it is to have sex with a human,” you smile, feeling a bit mischievous, your words laced with humor as you try to lighten the mood after the serious discussion.

“Many of them have already experienced it,” he laughs, his tone tinged with excitement and a hint of anticipation, “My hyungs have done it a lot, and I can’t wait to experience it myself.”

“They sound like they’ve had their fair share of adventures,” you chuckle, stealing a glance downwards, noticing the telltale strain in his pants.

He chuckles, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “Can we talk about something else? Because I’m having trouble focusing on your hand when I’m talking about my friends.”

With a playful laugh, you grasp the situation and share a knowing glance. Eager to reignite the passionate spark between you, you playfully unzip his pants, only to discover he’s gone commando—a thrilling surprise that sets your heart racing and ignites a rush of desire.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips as you raise an eyebrow, your fingers wrapping around his cock teasingly. “No underwear?” you jest, a playful twinkle in your eye, as you give him a tantalizing stroke, feeling his anticipation building with each caress.

With a low, guttural sound, he shifts his weight, arching his back to assist as you peel off the remainder of his jeans. Your fingers eagerly find their way back to his dick, marveling at its girth and length, already imagining the delicious stretch it will bring. The anticipation sends shivers down your spine.

His cock is long— longer than average, and thicker too. The tip is red, a small bead of precum gathered at the top, just waiting to be tasted by your tongue.

He teases you, his hips surging upward as if to test your grip. “Do you like it?” he murmurs, a hint of mischief in his voice, his eyes locking onto yours as he waits for your response.

You meet his gaze with a smirk, your fingers still wrapped around him. “Yeah, it’s impressive,” you concede, your voice laced with anticipation. Honestly, you don’t care much about the size of it, more about how good he is at using it.

He watches you intently, his gaze probing yet curious. “Have you had a lot of sex before?”

You nod and give him a small smile.

You lean in closer, your eyes locked with his, conveying your sincerity and eagerness. “I have, but let’s focus on us now,” you whisper, your voice tinged with determination. “I want to make you feel good, and then you can return the favor. How does that sound?”

With a tantalizing smile, you moisten your lips before lowering them to his cock. The instant contact makes him quiver, a reaction that only fuels your desire. You start by tracing him with your tongue, savoring his taste, before enveloping him completely in your warm, wet mouth.

He utters adorable, needy moans as your mouth envelops him, his reactions spurring you on as you slide up and down, sucking him with fervor and intensity.

His hands find your hair, gripping it gently at first, then with a bit more urgency, but you don’t mind one bit. Instead, it fuels your desire, urging you to take more of him into your mouth, to please him further with every movement.

The echoing sounds of slurping fill the cave, reverberating off the rocky walls, creating a symphony of desire. Each wet, sucking noise only fuels your arousal further, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with every passing moment.

“Shit. I’m feeling like I might come already,” he pants, his fingers tightening in your hair, a futile attempt to control the rising tide of pleasure coursing through him.

You release him with a soft pop, panting as you meet his pleading gaze, a flicker of desire mirrored in your eyes, silently promising more to come.

“It felt really good, but I really want to know what it feels like being inside your pussy, please,” his plea echoes through the cave, his eyes pleading like a desperate puppy, and you can’t help but chuckle at his adorable earnestness, your own desire kindled by his longing gaze.

“Of course. I want to have you inside of me too,” you pant, urgency seeping into your voice as you hastily pull your shirt over your head, revealing the lace of your bra to him, a silent invitation in the flickering light of the cave.

“You’re stunning,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe and genuine appreciation. “It’s not just your body that I love, but your entire essence, your personality—it’s all so captivating.”

Your smile widens, mirroring the warmth and affection swelling in your chest as you gaze at him. As you begin to unbutton your pants, a thought nudges its way into your consciousness. Retrieving the foil packet from your pocket, you place it on the ground between you, a silent promise of the intimacy about to unfold.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to the foil packet, curiosity sparking in his eyes like a flame catching kindling. “What’s that?” he asks, his voice laced with intrigue and a hint of anticipation, as if sensing the gravity of the moment wrapped in that small, innocuous package.

You chuckle softly, charmed by his innocence, realizing he’s never encountered a condom before. It’s endearing, really, how sheltered his underwater world has been.

“It’s a condom. It’s for protection,” you explain gently, feeling a mix of tenderness and amusement at his innocence. “You put it on your cock. I’m on birth control, but it never hurts to be extra safe,” you assure him, deciding to take the lead and offer to help him put it on.

As you attempt to open the foil packet, he intercepts your movement with a smirk, halting you with his hand. “Not now. I want to taste you first. Can I? And will you let me know if you like it or not? I’ve never tried it before,” he trails off, his voice soft and endearing. It’s moments like these that make you realize just how charming he can be.

His hands find purchase on your hips, and with a deliberate tug, he pulls your pants down, leaving you bare in your underwear. His gaze travels over you, from your eyes down to your dripping cunt, igniting a fire of anticipation in your core.

“Your panties are wet.” 

You chuckle in response, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in your eyes as you obediently part your legs wider, inviting him in with a playful yet anticipatory smirk.

“That’s because I’m aroused,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper as his touch sends a delicious shiver down your spine, your anticipation building with every electrifying caress of his hand against your hip bone and down to your pussy.

“You can remove it,” you whisper, your voice husky with desire, as you arch your back, offering yourself to him, a silent invitation. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides your panties down your legs, revealing your glistening pussy to the dimly lit cave, the anticipation thickening the air between you.

He lowers himself between your parted legs, his touch sending shivers up your spine as his hands explore the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting playful giggles from your lips. With agonizing slowness, his fingertips inch closer to your aching pussy, your body aching with desire, yearning for his touch. You find yourself silently begging for him to make contact, your entire being consumed by the anticipation of his caress.

“Please, Jungkook,” you implore, your voice trembling with urgency and longing, “I need to feel you, your touch—whether it’s your fingers or your mouth, I don’t care. Just touch me.”

As he gazes into your eyes, his expression filled with desire and understanding, he delicately traces his index finger over your sensitive clit. The sensation overwhelms you, eliciting a strangled gasp of his name, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

With each gentle stroke of his finger over your clit, you can’t help but release a soft moan, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Sensing your pleasure, he continues, his movements becoming more confident as he circles and rubs your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

As your breath quickens and your body trembles with anticipation, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain control, your legs quivering with need. Sensing your urgency, he gently guides your legs apart with his free hand, allowing him better access to your pussy.

He watches, entranced, as your clit pulsates, the rhythmic flexing and relaxing of the muscle a mesmerizing sight. The vision of your arousal sends a jolt of desire through him, making his own need painfully evident.

“You can put a finger in,” you pant, your voice trembling with need, eyes wide and pleading for more.

He looks up, his eyes searching yours, “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice a husky whisper filled with both concern and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip, a soft groan escaping your throat. “Yes, Jungkook,” you breathe, your voice laced with desperate longing, “I want your fingers inside me now.”

With the hand that was expertly teasing your clit, Jungkook slides it down to your slick folds, marveling at how you glisten in the moonlit cave. He gently positions his index finger, then slowly, almost tantalizingly, pushes it inside you, making you gasp at the intimate sensation.

The pleasure hits you instantly, a surge of desire overwhelming your senses. You crave more, each second intensifying your need, as if every nerve in your body is crying out for him.

“Wow,” he breathes, mesmerized by the sight of his finger slowly disappearing into your hole, his eyes wide with awe and desire.

Mesmerized, he begins thrusting his finger in and out of you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your sweet noises of pleasure fill the cave, encouraging him. After a moment, he looks up, his voice husky with desire, “Can I add another one?”

You nod, and another finger slips into your pussy, stretching you just a bit more. The sensation is intoxicating, yet you crave so much more. You’re trying to maintain control, to let him take his time, but the need inside you is almost overwhelming.

“Please,” you whisper urgently, your voice trembling with desire, “add a third finger and use your other hand to play with my clit.” You crave the sensation, the stretch, the readiness for his cock, your need palpable in every word.

With a swift motion, you unhook your bra, allowing it to slip to the ground. His movements pause as his gaze fixes on your exposed chest—your nipples standing pert and proud, a silent invitation to his touch.

As his gaze reluctantly leaves your exposed chest, he resumes his attention on you, the third finger sliding into you with a gasp of pleasure escaping your lips at the welcomed stretch. His thumb, slick with your juices, finds your clit once more, initiating a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Breathless and on the edge of ecstasy, you manage to muster the question, your voice filled with awe and admiration, “Are you sure you haven’t done this before? Because you’re really good at it.”

His laughter dances in the air, a melody to your unraveling pleasure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you with a perplexed frown until you see him drawing nearer, his tongue tracing the contours of your pussy.

You surrender to the ecstasy, tossing your head back as waves of pleasure wash over you, relishing the sensation of his velvety tongue caressing every contour of your quivering folds and sending electric pulses of delight through your clit.

With a hunger that matches your own, he envelops your clit, his mouth becoming a vortex of ravenous need, as he sucks and teases, drawing forth the essence of your desire and savoring every drop of your arousal with a fervent devotion.

With an almost expert touch, he draws your sensitive bud into his mouth, creating a vortex of sensation that sends electrifying pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. Each suction brings you closer to the edge, igniting a fiery intensity that threatens to consume you entirely. As you pant and gasp, your senses reel with the impending release, the anticipation coiling tighter within you like a spring ready to unleash its pent-up energy.

Your fingers trace the curves of your breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that sends shivers down your spine. With each touch, you feel the heat building within you, a primal urge demanding release. Your fingertips dance over your nipples, teasing them to attention, and you can’t help but respond with a symphony of gasps and moans.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers up, drawn to the symphony of your movements, your gasps and moans orchestrating a melody of desire. Yet, he remains steadfast in his task, his lips and tongue weaving a spell of ecstasy as he devours you with hunger, like he has done this many times before. It’s as though he’s an artist, each stroke of his tongue a masterpiece, each flicker of his lips a masterpiece of passion.

As your body arches and trembles with impending release, you’re acutely aware that the peak of ecstasy is just within reach. “Jungkook,” you gasp, your voice a fervent plea, “I’m... I’m going to come.”

With his deep chuckle vibrating against your most sensitive spot, you’re overcome by the intoxicating blend of sensations. In an instant, your world explodes into a symphony of pleasure, your fingers tangling in his ebony locks, anchoring you to the dizzying whirlwind of ecstasy as he eagerly savors every drop of your essence.

With a gentle and tender gaze, he pulls away, his features adorned with a shimmer of your essence. “Was this alright?” he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, yet his eyes brimming with warmth and adoration. With a gasp of disbelief, you draw him into a passionate kiss, savoring the mingling taste of yourself on his lips, yet your heart races with an electric thrill. “It was perfect,” you murmur against his mouth, your voice laden with sincerity and longing, sealing the moment with fervent intensity.

“Now you can fuck me,” filled with need, you voice your desire, urgency coloring every syllable, as you reach for his shirt and hastily pull it over his head. Your fingers fumble with the foil packet, opening it with a sense of anticipation, before your hand finds his still-hard cock.

With careful precision, you slide the condom over his dick, a tangible barrier between you and raw desire. As you spread your legs, creating space for him, his cock hovers tantalizingly close to where you ache for him most. In his gaze, you detect a mixture of longing and uncertainty, silently seeking your permission to proceed.

You take control, grasping his cock firmly and guiding it to your eager entrance. With a whispered instruction, you urge him to press forward, “Push a little, but slowly.”

As he nods in agreement, a determined glint ignites in his eyes. With gentle yet purposeful movements, he starts to ease his cock into the welcoming warmth of your eager pussy, each inch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body, stretching you deliciously with every inch gained.

His breath hitches, voice laced with wonderment, “Wow. You’re so tight,” he pants, his words punctuated by the sensation of more and more of his dick disappearing into the velvety depths of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure enveloping you both with each inch he claims.

“God, you’re big,” you pant back, a mixture of excitement and anticipation lacing your voice as you try your best to relax, welcoming the exquisite stretch and fullness as he almost fills you up, every inch of him stirring a delicious ache within you.

Finally, he’s completely inside, and you release a shaky breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding, feeling every pulsing inch of him deep within you, a rush of sensation flooding your senses as you revel in the delicious fullness he provides.

“You can move now,” you encourage him with a smile, eager anticipation shimmering in your eyes as you invite him to explore the depths of pleasure with each rhythmic thrust.

“How? You’re hugging me so tight,” he groans in pleasure, his voice tinged with uncertainty, as if seeking your direction amidst the waves of sensation coursing through both of you.

“Feel how we fit together?” you whisper, your hands tenderly guiding his hips. “Just move your hips—back and forth. Follow the rhythm of our bodies, and trust me, it’ll be amazing.”

“I already feel so good.”

He starts with a gentle push, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through you. With each thrust, he delves deeper, igniting an electric dance between your bodies, and you can’t help but moan in bliss.

“Don’t stop—faster,” you urge him on, and he responds with a surge of intensity, each thrust echoing in the cavern, a symphony of desire enveloping you both.

Your hands abandon his ass and hips once you’re satisfied he’s got the rhythm, his every thrust hitting that perfect spot, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through you, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

You moan his name, the sound igniting a primal response in him, his grunts mingling with your name, creating a symphony of passion in the cave.

“Keep going—harder,” you plead, your voice laced with urgency and desire. With each thrust, he drives into you with unyielding force, your back meeting the rough cave wall, igniting a primal intensity that leaves you breathless. You know there’ll be marks and scratches later, but at this moment, all you care about is the raw, primal pleasure he’s giving you.

“Yes!” you scream, your voice echoing against the walls of the cave, the intensity of his thrusts driving you to clutch his strong biceps for leverage. The intricate tattoo sleeve he has on his right arm, flexing with the strength he puts into his thrusts. With each powerful movement of his hips, he plunges deeper into you, igniting a primal fire that consumes both of you in an insatiable frenzy.

“___. I think I’m going to come soon,” he confesses, his voice strained with pleasure, his brows furrowing in anticipation of the impending release.

“Me too. Shit. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” you gasp out, your disbelief mingling with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. His skill and passion feel too seasoned for a first-timer, leaving you both questioning the truth of his innocence.

“I’m just a fast learner,” he teases, his lips finding solace on one of your exposed nipples, eliciting a fervent moan of his name from you. 

He sucks and nibbles at it, all while hitting your soft spot with precision. It’s an onslaught of sensation, driving you to the edge of ecstasy. You can feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, threatening to unravel at any moment.

With a tantalizing pop, he releases your nipple, only to lavish the same attention on its twin. His kisses, licks, and sucking send ripples of pleasure through your body, each touch igniting a fire within you that threatens to consume you whole.

That’s it. You’re gonna come again.

“Fuck, Kook,” you cry out, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you as you surrender to the torrent of ecstasy, your pussy releasing your liquid and pulsating around his cock, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you with the breakneck speed he’s moving his hips at.

“Damn, how did you just get even tighter?” he groans, his voice strained with pleasure, his primal urges driving him to the brink of ecstasy. You feel his urgency, knowing he’s teetering on the edge of release.

“Fuck—” he pants, his breath ragged and erratic. Then, he stutters, his movements turning feral for a moment as you feel his cock twitch inside your pussy, and he releases into the condom, his body shuddering with the intensity of his climax.

He stills inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he puts all of his weight into his arms. You gaze at him with a smile, your hand finding his cheek, gently pulling him closer to you, a silent reassurance in your touch.

You kiss him tenderly, the intimacy lingering in the air as your lips meet in a long and deep embrace. When you finally part, your breath mingling, you whisper softly, “I loved every moment of it.”

“Me too,” his voice carries a gentle exhaustion, mirroring the weariness you also feel settling in. You share a quiet moment, the weight of your shared passion and pleasure evident in the silence that follows.

As he gradually softens inside you, he withdraws gently. You swiftly retrieve the condom, deftly disposing of it with a practiced flick, tossing it into the depths of the cave, a silent testament to the intimacy shared in this hidden sanctuary.

“Can we do it again?” he pleads, his eyes ablaze with desire, each word heavy with anticipation, begging for another swim into ecstasy.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his once more, the promise of another intimate time igniting a fire within you both.

“But maybe we can go for a swim first?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eyes as you feel your breathing gradually returning to normal.

His expression shifts to one of surprise. “You want to swim? I’ll revert to my merman form then…”

You gently grasp his cheek, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze echoing your sincerity. “I love you, whether you’re in your merman or human form. I love all of you. And yes, I want to swim with you. You know how much I love being in the water.”

As he eases into your proximity, he nods, inching towards the water within the cave. With a mesmerizing display, a cascade of sparkle and glitter dances in the air as his legs seamlessly meld into a majestic purple tail. Your jaw drops, captivated once again by the breathtaking sight of his merman form, each time feeling like the first time you saw him like this.

He gracefully glides into the water with a splash, and you eagerly trail behind, tentative at first, dipping your toes into the cool embrace, then succumbing to the gentle caress that envelops your entire naked form.

You swim alongside him, venturing beyond the confines of the cave, out into the vast expanse of the open sea. The ocean stretches endlessly, meeting the horizon in a seamless blend of moonlit waves. Above, the sky is a tapestry of stars, each one twinkling like a promise of infinite possibilities. Though your house is a distant silhouette against the shore, it fades from your thoughts in the enchantment of this moment.

As you glide through the water beside him, the gentle rhythm of his tail occasionally breaking the surface with playful splashes, you find yourself drawn to the mystery of his world. “I’d love to see your home someday,” you say, the words carried away by the ocean breeze, mingling with the soft lullaby of the waves.

“Yeah. I know a witch that can turn you into a mermaid, if you really want to,” he says with a big smile on his face, his eyes sparkling with mischief as they meet your surprised gaze, mirroring your astonishment with his own excitement.

Your eyes widen with wonder— the thought of becoming a mermaid, a cherished childhood dream, suddenly within reach. “I’d love that,” you breathe, your voice filled with an intoxicating mix of excitement and disbelief, as if daring the universe to make this fantasy a reality.

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story 🥰

[slytherinboysvip]

!Motorcycle rider bf¡ Theo Nott

(Nsfw! Your boyfriend Theo has a motorcycle now.. and a hot fucking helmet.) (helmet kink? lol idk) smut smut smut

Your boyfriend Theo didn’t have many outlets to get away from his thoughts, before it was smoking which he’s attempting to slow down on for you, occasional journaling not that he’d ever let you see that, and now his newest and most favorite hobby riding his motorcycle.

To be completely honest at first the idea terrified you, an angry Theo driving around on a motorcycle going any speed he pleased “Starò bene amore mio, tu sei il mio portafortuna”(ill be fine my love youre my good luck charm). You’d also be lying to yourself if you didn’t say he looked damn fucking good in his helmet. So good in fact that you needed him to fuck you in it.

It’s like his whole demeanor changes when he puts it on, you can’t see his face yet you know his beautiful sleepy eyes are looking directly at you underneath, yet all you see is his fit body and it just did something to you. It didn’t matter what he was wearing as long as that helmet was on his head you were drenched.

𓆙𓆙

The first time you rode on the back of his motorcycle was amazing. He bought you your own helmet “I had to get it for you baby it screamed you, and it gave an excuse to finally make you ride with me. Not that you haven’t done that before” He winked while putting it over your head. You were glad it was on so he couldn’t make fun of your profuse blushing but who cares it’s because of your hot boyfriend.

He put his helmet on and you nearly fell to your knees he looked so fucking hot. Without saying anything he lifted you up and onto the back of the bike and got on in front of you. “Can you hear me principessa?” You jumped hearing his deep voice in your ear “Yeah? how can I hear you Teddy?” You were so confused “I got mics duh, had to be able to hear my baby. Now hold onto my waist we’re gonna get going don’t let go.” His voice was demanding and you did as he said.

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he grabbed your left hand and kissed it before putting it back down and kicking off, You didn’t expect it but the bumpiness of the road was doing something to you. You tried forgetting about it, it wasn’t happening, you weren’t getting turned on, but you were.

Your hands mindlessly wandered down onto your boyfriend’s crotch, rubbing slightly yet acting oblivious. “What do you think you’re doing there, hm?”. You almost forgot your boyfriend could hear you, “Nothingg, just resting my hands duh” You added some pressure and heard a small groan turning you on even more than before.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish doll” One of his hands came down and stopped your hands forcefully, a small moan escaping your mouth unwillingly. “My cute slut” He chuckled pulling your hands back up and going back to both hands steering.

𓆙𓆙

It has been long enough and you needed him to fuck you in the helmet. At this point all you had to do was tell him, of course he’d do it he does anything for you but the act of having to ask is so embarrassing, but its what has to be done for your own sake.

Reluctantly walking over to your boyfriend you quickly somewhat quietly expressed your feelings “Ireallyreallyneedyoutofuckmeinyourhelmetorilldie”. He looked at you with a confused look “Say that again but in actual words this time” He placed both hands onto your shoulders looking deep into your eyes, yet another weakness of yours. “I want you to fuck me in your helmet” You mumbled just enough for him to understand, trying to look away .

He chuckled before pulling your face to look him in the eyes again “il tuo desiderio è il mio comando, principessa” (your wish is my command princess). He got up and turned you around, “Keep those pretty little eyes of yours closed for a second”. You heard him walking away and did as he said before feeling a tap on your shoulder, “Turn around doll.”. Doing as he said you were greeted by a helmeted Theo, “Holy fuck you’re so hot”

“You know what you asked for, don’t waste time get on the bed for me slut”. You just nodded quickly before running for the bed and undressing. “Good girl, know just what to do for me. Get my pants down for me”. Pulling them down as much as you could you grabbed his growing dick and putting it into your mouth looking up at him from the bed, this entire view and situation made your pussy fucking drip.

You could hear his low groans coming from underneath the helmet and it was making you want more, “Please fuck me Teddy, please I fucking need it” You were looking up to your own reflection and seeing yourself covered in saliva because of this and made you feel something you never felt, you just wanted more. “Lay back then, I want you to fucking watch me.” He removed his shirt and holy shit he everything became even better. You definitely weren’t protesting this.

His rock hard abs, his throbbing big fucking dick and his helmeted head. He was like a god. Lining himself up to you he rammed deep inside making you give out a loud moan, his pace was immediately picking up hitting all the right places. His right hand came up to your pussy and he easily found your swollen clit begging for attention, he began swift circles over your clit with his thumb moving it side to side occasionally, It was already making you go over the edge. Everything about this moment was everything you needed.

Your pussy began clenching around his dick, your orgasm nearing and moans increasing, he kept his pace and underneath the helmet he was a mess, moaning and cursing because of how good your pussy felt. “è una bella merda, tesoro” (thats that good shit baby) He moaned deeply. Even though your legs were shaking and you couldn’t control your moans he kept going. Pace now increasing and still not leaving your clit alone. You were being so overstimulated but it never felt so fucking good.

He pulled out but before you could even say anything you were roughly flipped over onto your stomach and pulled back, legs reaching the floor lifting your ass up and slamming right back into your pussy. Screaming moan leaving your mouth “FUCK THEO MM”. Your screams only encouraging his behavior making him go even harder, hitting far and deep you were a mess and he was going feral.

He reached his hand forward grabbing onto your jaw shoving two of his fingers into your mouth yanking you back forcing you to arch, he leaned forward his helmet barley in view but enough for you to get turned on some more, his dick was driving you insane. “You’re so wet mm” he moaned “Fuck im gonna cum again Theo!!” You announced as you collapsed back down to the bed, nothing changing but him holding your hips up to continue fucking.

Your eyes were rolling back and you were feeling nothing but numb pleasure going dumb. “Cum for me good girl, mm fuck” “I love your pussy..” He stroked deeply “..and i love how much of a needy whore you are for me” He stroked harder and quicker “..and mm I fucking love.. filling you up” He moaned his last words feeling his cum shoot deep into your pussy unexpectedly making you moan. “Fuck theoo”.

He gently pulled out and spread your pussy lips watching intently as his thick white cum dripped out. Finally walking over to the side table and getting tissues to clean you off. “Now to take this off and get you properly cleaned up” He removed the helmet and he was sweating underneath which was also attractive to you. “Fuck it was hot in there but fuck that was hot” He laughed and you laughed along “That was definitely fucking hot. We need to do it again sometimee” You laughed again.

He lifted you off the bed and brought you into the bathroom sitting you down onto the toilet and starting up a warm bath “Any of your cute soaps today love?” He asked while looking through your box of bath bombs “Hmm, surprise me” You smiled at him and he went to looking. “This one’s perfect” He plopped in the only all black one that is definitely going to stain the tub.

He helped you into the bath and got into the shower next to you, being able to see him was funny but it’s just from the stomach up so it’s not much of a show. You sat there relaxing watching the water drip down his muscled back and felt content after that entire thing. This was most definitely needed.

Hopefully you enjoyed that<33 I know i’ve been gone for a bit but writes block LOL anywho im not sure how this is so lmk!!!

Masterlist

[impishjesters]

Pomni, Kinger, Caine & Jax's reaction to their s/o abstracting

warning(s): angst, hurt no comfort, self-blame, "death" of the reader, implied "death"/abstraction of another character (spoiler: Kinger), hopeful outcome note(s): There's nothing incredibly heavy or detailed, just tread carefully if "death" is something you are sensitive to, please. The "hopeful outcome" implies that Caine will at some point in time be able to fix those who've abstracted. A/N: I was feeling particularly cruel and wanted to write some angst, this came to mind and I'll be honest. I made myself a little sad.

Pomni

She never saw it coming, of course, you were acting different lately but she didn’t think it would… lead to you abstracting…

It took forever for things to get some semblance of normalcy, and you being with her was a major part of it.

Sure the relationship in a place like this was a bit, weird, but you cared about her, and she cared about you.

You kept her sane and grounded, so when you were found abstracted? It felt like she failed you.

Ragatha tries to assure her that you aren’t completely gone. Like Kaufmo you’re being kept in the cellar. Caine claims the abstracted are being kept there until he can find a way to “fix” them. (Whether he’s genuine or not though, none of them know.)

It’s all empty promises though, she still feels like she failed you.

Kinger

Not again…

Kinger silently promised himself not again, he was fine being friendly with everyone else that fell into the circus, but he had no intentions of being more than that.

But then you happened, and while he was still in shambles from the time and the insanity spent here, you were there beside him. Like a knight in shining armor.

He hadn’t been around when you abstracted, in fact, he didn’t know you abstracted until there was yelling, and boom an abstraction was causing chaos.

Kinger didn’t know who it was until it was sent off to the cellar, actually, he didn’t know who it was until he realized everyone was present except you.

There’s a high probability that losing someone again, losing you, is what ends up being his own downfall. The other’s (not including Jax) try their all to get him to calm down but it’s not enough, it’s too late…

Caine

Of all the humans to be pulled in he never once got attached.

This was never supposed to happen, he’s incapable of love.

Caine does his best to keep the humans from abstracting, and as many eyes as he has over the place, there are always ones that slip through his grasp.

Of course, he’s not around when you abstract, it takes a bunch of hooting and hollering from everyone before he shows up and oh hey an abstraction.

At an immediate glance, he knows it’s you, abstractions never remotely look like the person they were before but he knows it’s you. You don’t recognize him as you lash out, of course you don’t, you can’t.

He’s unsure about tossing you with the others in the cellar, there’s nowhere else he can truthfully keep you without causing problems. So into the cellar, you go.

Caine visits you though, not for long but he does check in on you. Not that anything changes, but out of all the abstractions down there, he knows exactly which one is you.

You’ll be the first human he fixes as soon as he’s able to.

Jax

His s/o abstracted? Nice joke, though it’s in poor taste. You’re completely fine, he just saw you earlier.

Jax doesn’t believe it until he sees it, and seeing it absolutely ruins him. He’s seen countless others get abstracted and thrown into the cellar, but why, why does it have to be you?

Why couldn’t it have been literally anyone else? He didn’t give a shit about anyone else, the one person he cared for, and you…

Similarly to Pomni, he feels it’s his fault like he could’ve, no should’ve done more. Was he so wrapped up in everything else that he didn’t notice the signs? Why didn’t you talk to him? You didn’t, didn’t do that on purpose, did you?

For the first time ever, the others are genuinely worried about Jax, they all saw/know how much you meant to him. The two of you even spoke fondly about what the two of you would do if you got out of the circus.

For a while Jax becomes even more irrational and unhinged, they try not to hold it against him too badly, even when he oversteps. He’s grieving and none of them know just how long that’ll go on.

Jax isn’t quite the same afterward, but he makes sure that nobody else tries to worm their way into his heart.

If it’s possible, he’ll make sure Caine fixes you the second he’s able to. Even if Caine can fix only one person, it’s going to be you.

[halsteadlover]

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞?

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: a TikTok trend turns out to be the best surprise of your life.

• Warnings: few curse words and dirty talking, highly suggestive at the end.

• Word count: 1040.

• A/N: I don’t know how to feel about this one to be honest 😭 Let me know what you think and like, comment and reblog if you want. As always thank you so much for your constant support I missed you all so so much ❤️

“Hi guys!” You smiled, taking a step back to show your entire frame in the video. “Come here baby,” you called Charles waving with your hand and encouraging him to come closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your hip, leaving a kiss on your temple before bringing his gaze to your figures on the phone screen.

You were making a TikTok and you had finally found the perfect opportunity to follow the trend of calling your boyfriend ‘husband’, wanting to capture Charles’ reaction really bad.

“You look divine,” he whispered in your ear, his voice so low it was unlikely it registered. You giggled as you looked at him and leaned against his body, placing a hand on his shirt-covered chest and letting the scent of his cologne invade your senses.

“Sooo,” you continued, turning back to the actually absent audience. “I’m here with my husband, we just finished getting ready for the gala…”

You suddenly stopped, no longer able to keep a serious expression when Charles turned his head so quickly you almost feared he had broken his neck. You burst out laughing when he opened his mouth in disbelief, looking at you with a shocked expression you’d never seen on his face before.

“What? What’s wrong?” You laughed.

“What did you just say?” He exclaimed in amazement and you finally turned your gaze to him, your heart exploding in your chest noticing the dazzling smile he had on his lips as he looked at you.

You giggled again. “I said my husband…”

His hand gripped your hip, fingers pressing into the straws of your dress. “Fuck say that again.”

“My husband,” you repeated, now completely forgetting about the TikTok. “Does it bother you?”

“Bother me?” Charles took your hand that was still resting on his chest and directed it to his heart. You smiled as you noticed it was wildly beating.

I guess it didn’t bother him.

He pressed his lips to yours, sucking your soul from your body with just that contact. “Again.”

“You really like the way that ‘my husband’ sounds huh?”

“Mon dieu yes…” His lips trailed a trail of kisses along your jaw to your neck. “I want to fuck you so bad right now,” he whispered in your ear and you almost fainted.

“Alright, alright, enough…” you giggled as heat spread across your cheeks, remembering your phone was still recording. You pulled away from his grip and stopped the TikTok before Charles grabbed you again and pressed his lips against yours, this time without any inhibitory brakes and not caring about your meticulously cared for makeup. His mouth devoured you, possessing every fiber of your body.

“Oh god babe…” you breathed barely knowing what even was your name anymore. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Your husband…” He sighed “That was the hottest and sexiest thing I have ever heard in my life. What are you doing to me?” His hands roamed everywhere on your body, now uncontrollable as they groped your flash. “If I had known how beautiful it sounded I would’ve done it much sooner.”

“Do what?”

He reached into his suit’s pocket and pulled out a small box, an unmistakable little box which sight was enough to give you a heart attack.

You gasped, your hands over your mouth when he opened that little box and got on his knee.

“I know it’s not what you deserve, this isn’t how I planned for this to happen and I really apologize but I honestly can’t take it anymore baby. I’ve been carrying this ring with me for months now, always waiting for the perfect moment but it never seemed to be enough because I wanted to make the perfect proposal, just like you deserve… But… God… I also know as long as there’s you and me, everything will always be perfect, it doesn’t matter the time or place that’s why I was planning to propose after the gala, I had prepared…” he spoke, his eyes still fixed on yours. “Fuck it doesn’t matter now because hearing you call me your husband even if it’s just a trend on TikTok made me regret not doing this sooner and realize how stupid I was to wait this long. I can’t wait to hear you say it for the rest of my life, so…”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” You exclaimed jumping without even letting him finish his sentence, your face streaked with tears.

He chuckled, his eyes equally filled with tears. “You don’t even want me to ask?”

“Fuck hurry up and ask me so I can say yes a thousand times!”

He smiled and your whole world stopped.

“Mon amour, would you like to make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

“Yes fuck yes!” You screamed in hysterics and threw yourself into his arms, almost making both of you fall on the floor.

His laughter rang through the room and you found yourself leaning into him as he slid the ring along your finger, noting with so much joy it was exactly what you had always wanted and remembering how you had mentioned it only once a while ago and how he had remembered it.

You grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him until there was nothing left of the two of you but jelly.

“We’ll celebrate later baby, now get naked because I want to fuck you so bad I think I’m going to explode. And I won’t stop until you won’t even be able to walk out this room.” His hand tightened around your throat, squeezing lightly and enough to make you dizzy with desire, just how you liked it. His lips, red and swollen from your impetuous kisses, continued to caress yours, leaving you more and more impatient and eager.

“What about the gala?” You managed to ask, hoping he cared as much about it as you did. You just wanted to be with your fiancée.

I’m a fiancée now oh my god!

“I don’t give a damn about the gala or anything or anyone else other than my fiancée,” he replied and you mentally did a backflip. “The only thing I can think about right now is how good is going to feel to be buried deep inside my wife,” his fingers unzipped your dress, making it falling around your feet. “How good it’s going to see that ring wrapped around my dick.”

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[cherrysdeck]

Pick a card: Prelude to love.

First meeting your future spouse. When, where, and how.

Remember: Take only what resonates, this is a general reading. Tarot readings are done with entertainment purposes only. Hope you like it!

Pile 1 -> 3

Pile 1

When: 3 of cups, 3 of swords, 8 of wands, 2 of pentacles

3, 3 months?, 3 years?, March? August, Winter, winter blues. Early morning, after lunch. 

Where: ace of pentacles, 6 of pentacles, 5 of wands, 2 of swords

Sports game, job interview? (That feels like a really weird setting), Boxing game, sports, yoga class, painting class. Decided to try a new hobby so you signed up for an activity or class. Garden. Betting (more like betting on a sport, than in a casino)

How is it going to be?: 2 of cups, ace of pentacles, king of wands, king of swords in rev, 8 of swords, the hierophant, 5 of wands rev, the fool, knight of swords

What a tension. I feel like people will look at you two thinking oh they will end up together, and you honestly would rather anything else, literally. Somewhat enemies to lovers, or more like I found them really annoying the first time we met. Makes you roll your eyes. Kind of rude to be honest. I feel like you’re both very competitive and stubborn people, we’re from different teams. It will take more for you two to actually click. It feels like being in the same group not by choice, but slowly you get used to each other, and you start to get feelings. Your fs might be to careless when they speak, and you might just end up looking at them unimpressed, like please shut up. They might like bragging off, or be a know it all, correcting others. And that gets on your nerves. Your communication styles are clearly so different and that might lead to somewhat of an argument, ends up being more like banter. This will grow into teasing with time. They don’t leave a good first impression on you, but you’ll end up meeting again and again, running in the same circles. Your fs will definitely be the topic of bathroom gossip, like can you believe them? It’s all good pile 1, they’ll redeem themselves. It what happens when you’re complete opposites, clashes might occur at the beginning, but then you realise you balance each other really well.  

Pile 2

When: death, the star, 8 of wands

During a period of transformation, unexpected moment. You will be very busy and focused on something else. It might be after a breakup too. August, February, March. 2025. Late at night. Friday. 22.

Where: 4 of swords, the devil, ace of swords, 8 of swords, 8 of cups

Graduation, work dinner, a party, a retreat, networking event. I get a very busy place full of people, but you might feel isolated here. You might have just moved to a different city, still not used to it or not knowing many people there. There’s a certain level of insecurity, like what am I doing here? I want to go home. 

How is it going to be?: Oh my god, I forgot to write the cards and I started doing another pile, I’m so sorry. Those that I can remember are: 8 of cups, 2 of cups, temperance in rev, 4 of pentacles, 9 of cups, the fool.. again I’m sorry

I just felt such great relieve. I think it’s related with the feeling isolated in the middle of a crowd. And suddenly someone appears who eases up your tension. Your fs makes you relax immediately. There’s a big feeling of familiarity with this person. Either one of those I think I know you from another life or you might know them, but so far you’ve just seen them around or on social media, and this is the first time actually talking. They might help socialise in this setting, introducing you to others. Instead of talking just the two of you, there will be someone else in the conversation all the time. One of you just wants to have alone time for 5 minutes, but someone is always interrupting. I feel like your fs knows how to navigate these social situations very easily, and you’ll look at them like wow, they are a social butterfly. They also know how to include everyone in the conversation, the kind of person that always makes you feel included. I feel like there will be some tension and chemistry right off the bat, but because you’re barely spending any time alone, you both start to get a little impatient and frustrated that you can’t actually explore it. It’s leaving you two wanting more. You two will be paying so much attention to each other, but others are completely oblivious and will not leave you alone. One of you might ask if you want to go eat something and get out of there, and it’s like yes, finally. Exchanging phone numbers by the end of the night, kind of meeting that leaves you giddy, with butterflies. Might think about each other once you’re already in bed, start texting soon too. You just want to know more about each other. Another alternative is staying up all night in a party or bar afterwards, getting McDonalds or some fast food in the early morning. SO much laughter. You just get a feeling afterwards that this is going to be a long term thing. 

Pile 3

When: the empress, 6 of wands, 4 of sword rev

Summer nights from Grease. Was it love at first sight? Summer, May too, September, the first, You really wanted to work on yourself and not look for romance, but they just showed up, what can you do? 

Where: the hermit, king of wands, 6 of sword, 9 of pentacles, knight of cups

The beach, a beach club, festival, cherry blossom festival?, Self-care activity. Lantern festival. River, during hiking. Outdoors. Swimming. Cruise ship. 

How is it going to be?: the hermit, the magician, strength, the chariot, death. The emperor, high priestess rev, 9 of wands

You know when you spend a long time manifesting something, and it’s been a long long time, and you’re just so tired you give up, and suddenly it’s knocking on your door. That’s how this meeting feels like. I keep thinking of this manifestation technique of making a list of how your ideal partner is. You were just so tired, and decided that it was time to move on and forget about it. Started focusing on yourself, doing more self-care, trying new activities, meeting new friends. You really were over it. And then boom, perfect, ideal, fs is just there. This wasn’t in your plans right now. I feel like laughing, but the kind of laughing when something doesn’t make sense or it’s just absurd. A by chance meeting, might result from something embarrassing, like spilling a drink or like in books when the mc crashes into the love interest. They’re well dressed. I think you might feel a little be contradicted, like finally I was doing so well single, and now you show up? But how can you ignore them now? Your fs is just exactly what you had wished for. There will be a lot of talking and lots of laughs, it feels like a first date already. Suddenly you get like tunnel vision and all you can see is them. I feel like you won’t want to say goodbye at the end. Let’s have lunch, and dinner, and breakfast together. 

Xo, Xo, Cherry 💋

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

More of my diabetic Steve verse!

Steve, who doesn’t realize that Eddie is super famous and robin who could literally not care any less.

Steve and Eddie exchange numbers and text all of the time. It takes a week for Eddie to crack and send this message:

Eddie: Please for the love of god let me take you on a date I need to wine and dine you so hard I think I might pass out

Steve obviously says yes.

Eddie takes them to a small diner because he doesn’t want to risk being seen by crazy fans who somehow always find out where he is. If Eddie is being honest, he blames twitter.

Eddie gets there to find Steve already sitting at a booth, fiddling with something on his phone. His glasses are sliding down his nose again and he is wearing a Wham! graphic t-shirt and light wash jeans. He stands up once he notices Eddie and flashes a huge grin, which causes Eddie to also smile.

They both sit down on their respective sides of the table and get comfortable, making small talk. It takes a bit, but Eddie notices that Steve has the menu pulled up on his phone and laughs.

“Doing some homework?”

Steve looks confused for a second before glancing down.

“Oh yeah! I always make sure to look at it beforehand whenever I go out to make sure that I have options depending on my blood sugar level.”

“What’s your… number, is that the correct term, now?”

Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yes! And let me check.” Steve pulls out a cute green pouch and takes out a bunch of supplies. “I just changed my CGM—“ At Eddie’s confused look, he says, “My glucose monitor. It’s not completely synced yet so I can’t rely on my pod to tell me what level I’m actually at.”

After he says that, Steve cleans his finger with an alcohol wipe, lets it dry, and then pricks his finger. He squeezes the pad of his ring finger and blood pools to the surface.

“Yikes. I’m gonna have to give myself a correction or two.”

Steve cleans up the space but leaves his pouch out, and then wraps a sparkly bandaid on his finger.

“What’s a correction?”

Eddie feels dumb. He wishes he knew more about diabetes and actually researched it before showing up to the diner with no prior knowledge.

“I just give myself a little extra insulin to make my blood sugar go down. I’m flirting with 250 right now and I really want a burger.”

—

The date passes swimmingly and the two men find themselves sitting in the same booth at the same diner, but on the same side. Their hands are intertwined and Steve wrapped up half of his meal to take home.

“I made this for you!” Steve says suddenly. He grabs a stack of stapled papers and hands them to Eddie. “I made you a ‘diabetes guide!’ Since I plan on our relationship being permanent, it would give me peace of mind if you knew what to do in case of an emergency.”

Steve begins thumbing through the packet and explaining everything, but Eddie can hardly focus.

Not with Steve clutching his hand or with him wanting their relationship to become “permanent.”

“Hey, are you okay?” Steve waves his hand in front of Eddie’s face. “I understand if this is a dealbreaker or whatever, but I just like you so much and I want to be your boyfriend as of two weeks ago.”

Eddie just blinks. Then he smiles. “We only met a week ago, Stevie.”

Steve blushes, tucks some hair behind his ear. “I know that. I just had a feeling that I would meet the one.”

“Yeah?” A pause. “Can I kiss you?”

Steve releases a breath. Puts his hand on Eddie’s cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask. I hope you don’t mind the taste of hamburger.”

Eddie laughs before lunging forward.

—

As they head back to Steve’s apartment hand in hand, Eddie tells him about his more than ordinary job. Explains what might happen when people see them together.

Steve just laughs and says, “I’ve fought literal monsters from hell, I can handle anything.”

Eddie falls more in love than he knew possible.

[aggieslittlebunny]

PLEASE TALK TO ME

MEN/MINORS DNI!!!

Pairing: University Student!Reader x Older!gf!Wanda

Summary: Reader’s life has always been hard, but as of late, it seems to be extremely harder for you. Your girlfriend, Wanda, is always ready to support you, but you push her away as your condition is getting worse and things escalate.

Trigger Warnings/Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, contain heavy/sensitive topic, mental illness, depressed reader, anxious reader, negative self-talk, self-harm, suicide attempt, suffering reader, reader have suspicion of being an ADHDer (but doesn’t get diagnosed). You have been warned, so don’t read this fic if there is a chance that you might get triggered, no matter how small the chance is. Please never hesitate to reach out to someone close to you or any professional help if you’re struggling mentally. You matter <3

Author Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any gramatical and spelling errors ^^

Word Count: 3.5k

Life has been hard for you lately, much harder than usual. You can’t exactly tell since when this has happened and the reasons behind it. Being a university student has always been a challenge. To be completely honest, despite getting A- for most of the courses you had, you always feel like you barely survived. Other students appear to be able to understand whatever topic the professors deliver right away. Besides that, it seems very easy for them to raise their hands and ask questions. Meanwhile, you? You can barely sit through three and a half hours of each lecture, let alone be focused throughout the whole thing. Being glued to the classroom chair for that long feels so horrible. Oftentimes, you think of excusing yourself to the restroom, but you are way too anxious to do that. All you can do is shift yourself in your seat every once in a while, but you can’t do that too much either because then people will notice how fidgety you are. You will attract unwanted attention.

Speaking of unwanted attention and being anxious, those are why it’s hard for you to ask questions during lectures. You don’t like having people’s eyes on you. You also keep asking yourself “what if my question is strange?” or “what if my question doesn’t make sense?” right after your brain makes a question, which gets you stuck in your head and prevents you from being an active student. That doesn’t mean you never ask questions. You pushed yourself to do that sometimes. You need to keep up with other students after all. But you truly despise it. You don’t like the feeling of your hands becoming clammy and how your heart beats very fast, making you breathe heavily.

Before you ask a question, you need to come up with one. That is also a problem for you since you believe that you have a short attention span. Your brain loves to wander, even when all you want to do is focus. You can pay attention to the professors’ voice and write down the important information you want to keep, but before you realize it, your train of thoughts are somewhere else and your hand has already stopped writing minutes ago. You have a lot of questions in your head, but you are afraid that they actually have been discussed and you just weren’t paying attention. You believe that you will look or sound ridiculous.

Your older girlfriend, Wanda, is aware of your struggles, but you haven't told her everything. You just let her know some bits without much detail. She is the most supportive girlfriend you have ever had. Well, she is your first girlfriend so that statement can’t be wrong. Seriously though, she is very supportive and sweet to you. You love her so much and will do anything to make her stay, even if that means hiding most of your problems and keeping your negative feelings bottled up.

You have been doing such a good job hiding how you feel in front of Wanda— and everyone. Thinking of people worried about you filled you with guilt, so you tend to just put on a happy or at least neutral look on your face. These past few weeks, your mask slowly cracks. Wanda started to notice the empty look in your eyes (no matter what expression you are making), the bag under your eyes, the forced cheerful tone escaping your lips, how you space out more frequently, how you seem to avoid people including her, and other behavior changes from you. Everytime she asks how you are doing, you will simply tell her that you’re fine, maybe a little tired. She knows you are not, but she doesn’t want to put pressure onto you and keep praying that you will open up soon. She keeps waiting and waiting. A couple of months passed and you seem to be getting worse. This makes her persuade you harder to tell her what is going on, but no matter how hard she tries, you never tell her the truth. You keep denying her that you are behaving really off and telling her that she is just overthinking.

“Sweetheart, you know that you can talk to me about anything at any time, right?” Wanda randomly blurts. Both of you are currently sitting on a bench in a park, eating ice cream while watching people minding their own business.

“Mmhm.”  you replied shortly with a faint positive tone. You can feel her gaze pointed at you, but you decide to keep your eyes watching a little girl laughing with her parents as they play catch with their dog.

“I’m sorry to keep bringing this up. I can’t help but be worried about you, baby. The more time passes, the more I notice how you seem to not be doing well. You don’t need to pretend that you’re okay in front of me. I want you to rely on me. I might not be able to solve all of your problems, but I will always be with you. We can face this together if you let me. You’re not alone. Please tell me what is going on.” one of her hands reaches yours. You look at Wanda the moment she holds your hand.

“I’m alright, seriously. Maybe I'm just a little bit tired. The finals week is getting near and I need to be ready for that. I don’t want to fall behind. Thank you for caring about me, but can we not talk about this right now? Maybe we can talk about it later, just… not now.”

“Okay, baby. I understand. Do you want to grab some lunch after this?”

A day after that, you suddenly stopped meeting Wanda. Most calls from her are ignored by you. The ones you picked up never last longer than five minutes. You told her that you need to focus on your study, but Wanda doubts that. She knows from one of your friends that you have been skipping a bunch of lectures. She considered visiting you in your dorm, but you always refused whenever she asked for your permission. You gave her a hard no right away, every single time, no consideration. She tries to respect your decision, but it is getting harder each day for her, and unbeknownst to her, for you either. You are getting worse and it is actually out of her expectation and imagination.

Now it has been three weeks since you stopped meeting Wanda. She always waits for any message from you that appears to be sent to her less and less as the days pass. Today she hasn’t received any. She is beyond worried, but she also knows that you are having finals this week. The semester ends soon and she hopes she will be able to hang out with you again since you will have lots of free time for a month. She gave you some space since she thought that is what you need. She tries to act chill about it, but each buzz coming from her phone never fails to make her jolt. She will check her phone right away and gets disappointed when she doesn’t see your name (or ‘my baby’ since she set your contact as that) on her notifications.

She heard from you on Friday. It is almost midnight, but she can’t sleep unless she does her daily reading before bed. Therefore, there she is. She is sitting comfortably in her bed, her back against the headboard, and there is an open book in her hand. It was peaceful until her phone buzzed. When she takes a glance at her phone, she swiftly picks it up and opens a message from you. You sent her a link. That link leads her to a letter written by you. Her eyes scan each word carefully. You are thanking her for being a wonderful girlfriend. As Wanda keeps reading, she hopes that you are just giving her a sweet letter of appreciation. Deep inside, she fears that you are breaking up with her, but she tries not to judge quickly since it is a pretty lengthy letter and she barely reaches the quarter part of it.

“When you are reading this, I have done something stupid.”

Wanda freezes for a solid ten seconds. After that, she stands up and runs to her car. She forgets her car keys so she sprints back in to grab it and then she leaves her house with her car. She left her house unlocked and she is still wearing her pajamas, but those are none of her concern right now. Her head chanting your name as well as prayers that you are safe. As she drives, she continues reading your letter. Her eyes moved from her screen to the road repeatedly until she finished reading it. After that she completely focuses on the road and might have crossed the speed limit several times. She reached your dorm room in twenty minutes, thanks to one of your close friends that is still awake and messaged her the number of your room.

She expected that she would have to break the door open, but she was wrong. The door isn’t locked. She knows right away that it was left like that by you on purpose. You told her so many times that you always lock your door twice because you’re afraid of the possibility that a stranger can get into your room easily. The sound of her footsteps echoes in your room. Your room is dark, but there is light from the sideroad lamp slipping through your window. She saw the lump of your body covered with your favorite blanket in your bed and she approached you in a hurry. She cradles your face in her palms. She noticed your irregular breathing and that you are breathing through your mouth. She also quickly noticed that there is a kind of chemical smell coming out from your mouth. Her hand reached the phone in her pocket and she dialed the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. It will take around ten minutes for it to arrive.

Just when she is about to wake you up, she accidentally knocks over a mug on your bedside table. It is now on the ground and the liquid inside it seeps into the rug. At first she thought it was tea, but after a quick sniff into the air, she realized that it is not tea or at least not just tea. The smell is exactly the same as what is coming out from your mouth. She checked the water bottle that was sitting beside the mug. She remembers how you brought the bottle with you all the time. It has such a bold pink color and there is a picture of a rabbit saying ‘life is beautiful’ on it. She opens the bottle and at first glance it looks like it’s filled with normal water, but the somewhat gray look as well as the strong chemical scent said otherwise. Shortly after that, her eyes spot a little trash can near the bed. She noticed some tissues covered with blood as well as an empty bug spray can.

“Shit.” she thought.

“Baby? Baby, wake up. Please. Can you hear me?” Wanda tries to wake you up with panic in her voice. She pulls your blanket away to take a look at your arms and wrists. She found nothing. But a second later she saw some dried blood prints on your shorts, the left thigh part to be exact. After that, she taps your cheek and shakes your body firmly which elicits a groan from you.

“I’m sorry, Wanda. I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.” You replied faintly. It is clear that you are slipping in and out of consciousness.

“Shh, you will be okay. There is nothing to be sorry for; I’m not mad at you. I love you very much. Please don’t go back to sleep. Stay with me, sweetie. I’ll get you to the hospital. The ambulance is coming.”

The paramedic comes soon after that and you are brought to the hospital. The emergency room is very cold and quiet. Maybe not that quiet since you hear people’s voices, but everything is so faint and blurry to you. After you get treated, Wanda is allowed to see you. She sees you smiling a little and she smiles back as she walks closer towards you.

You start telling her what has been happening in your life. Wanda sits on the hospital bed that you occupied, holding your hand as she hears your story. You tell her that you always feel so different throughout your life. You always feel like you are always in a race to keep up with other people around you. It gets harder and harder, especially with the fact that you’re a student in a top university. You tell her that since you get into university, your life is way messier than before. Keeping up with other students almost feels impossible. You try and try and try, but it is never enough. You are never satisfied and you feel like you are the most stupid student compared to other students in the same year as you.

Your grades might say different things, but there are endless efforts to get those grades. You are a procrastinator, but it is not because you don’t want to do your responsibility. Most of the time, you just can’t. Your body and brain won’t function the way you want them to and you despise that part of yourself because that makes you feel lazy. But you also barely get any sleep to finish your assignments, prepare your part in group assignments, and sometimes you cover your friend’s part or any extra part. That caused you to sleep like three hours a day. Some days four, the other days two, and this rarely happens but you can go two or three days without sleep. You have been living with this terrible sleep schedule for three years now. All you want is to be like other students. You’re scared of falling behind. You know you will not survive by yourself so you want your classmates to be able to rely on you on group projects. You want as many classmates as possible to like you. 

“I’m so tired, Wanda. I’m exhausted.” You sighed painfully.

You proceed to tell her how your head was slowly becoming evil to you. It’s never peaceful in your head. Different things are piling up inside it. They’re messy piles and your brain seems to insist on unpacking them all at the same time. You can feel the chaos within your body and mind. The chaos streaming in your blood makes you want to curl up and disappear. Then it’s getting worse. Your brain started telling you various negative things:

“No one likes you.”

“Your friends hate you. They talk about you behind your back”

“You’re a terrible person.”

You began to believe those things. Watching your friends surrounding a table in the cafeteria leads you to think that they were talking shitty stuff about you. Especially after a friend of yours noticed that you were crying in front of the class but said nothing. After that, you started to spend lots of time hiding in the restroom stall to cry, usually before class. You were terrified by people around you and your own brain. Then you seek out some help. You reached out to a counselor provided by your university. You confessed to her about the problems you have been having as of late, and talking helps, but not much. Your brain is still very mean to you. At some point you really want to know what is going on with you. You desperately want an explanation on why you feel so different compared to others since you were a little kid. You dived into the internet, researching stuff based on your struggles. You are very sure that you’re suffering from depression, maybe even anxiety. But you believe that there is something more. After weeks of researching, you have a suspicion that you might have ADHD. You read some books, watched lots of videos, and asked some of your online friends who are ADHDer. 

“I can never be sure until I get a proper diagnosis and I can’t get a diagnosis from a counselor. But if my counselor can at least agree with my suspicion, I assume it will be easier for me to get actual diagnosis. Therefore I talked about it with her, my counselor. I didn’t explicitly say to her that I think I might have ADHD. Instead, I tell her my life experiences that relate to the symptoms. At one point she cut my story.”

“Aren’t you just lazy?” the words your counselor threw at you echo in your brain.

“Am I just lazy, Wanda? Please tell me it’s not true. I’m trying. I always try! Please believe me! I-”

Wanda instantly cups your face in her hands and rests her forehead against yours.

“Breathe, sweetie. Deep breath. I’m with you. You’re not lazy. Not at all. You have been trying your best. I know it, baby.”

“It’s so painful! It feels like she throws away my self-image I’ve been building all my life. The sleepless nights… The notes covering my dorm walls…” you take a sharp breath and continue, “Even as a kid, my parents pushed me so hard to study. In elementary school, they will make me study until midnight during test weeks. In middle school I fell behind, but managed to push myself so that I could get into a good highschool. I push myself all the time to keep up with everybody else. Maybe I also do it so my parents will keep loving me. To them, my grades define who I am. They expect so much from me. It hurts…” you cry at the last two words and Wanda embraces you in a warm hug.

“The day when my counselor said that, I walked back to my dorm room with tears streaming down my face. I sobbed as I walked, maybe some strangers saw me in that state, but I was in too much agony to care. I stopped seeking out help from anyone. I just want to know why I am the way I am. But I can’t stand it anymore. I can’t stand feeling so different than anyone else. I also throw that suspicion away. I can’t face it since then.” you pushed Wanda away gently to look at her face. You can see tenderness in her eyes. How can you be so lucky to have her?

“I guess that pushed me further to this point. I didn’t get any help. I pushed myself even harder. I carried way much more stuff than I can handle. Last week, I constantly had my nose bleeding. That keeps going for like five days. I hurt myself too several times. It’s like I’m literally sacrificing my blood, sweat, and tears to survive. Then my head started telling me harmful stuff and questioning my worth of living.”

“Why are you still trying?”

“Why are you here?”

“Why don’t you just kill yourself?”

“You should just kill yourself.”

“You should kill your family members too. They are in danger and you need to end their lives to save them.”

“I’m terrified, Wanda! I’m scared! I’m scared of myself so much. You have no idea. That’s why I ended up here. I thought this was the only way to fix this. I’m so sorry…”

“Baby…” a tear runs down Wanda’s cheek and she leaves a kiss on top of your head before speaking up again, “Thank you for telling me this, sweetheart. I know there is still so much left unsaid and I know you’re telling me as much as you can at this moment. Thank you for trusting me with this. I’m not mad at you. I’m not angry. I’m not disappointed. But may I know why you kept telling me that you’re fine on those days?”

“I’m afraid that I will become a burden and you will think that I’m too much and…”

“I will leave you?” you nod.

“I'm sorry, Wanda. I truly am sorry.”

“Stop that, baby. It’s fine now. You will get proper help after this and I will always support you. I’m not going anywhere. Let’s take it slow, yeah?” you nod once again and pull her into a tight hug.

“Thank you.”

Wanda’s hand begins to stroke your hair lovingly, “Please never hesitate to tell me anything in the future. You can stay at my place when your head is being very mean to you. In fact you can stay at my place anytime. I won’t mind seeing your little cute face every morning, I would love that. We can work on your sleep schedule together and maybe find a study method that suits you. I know it’s not easy and you’ve been struggling very hard by yourself, but you don’t have to do that anymore. You don’t have to be by yourself. You have me. I got you, sweetheart.”

“What did I do to deserve you, Wands?”

“You don’t need to do anything to be loved by me. I love you, more than you know.”

“I love you too. I love you to the moon and back.”

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Nanami x Reader ~ Kento's Stress Toy

feat: fluff and smut, established relationship, body writing, rough sex, loving sex, praise, overstimulation, light bondage // wc: 4170 // [ao3]

Nanami was working overtime again. You both hated when it had to happen, and on a Friday after a particularly long week? Your poor husband would be coming home exhausted and cranky.

Not that he was ever mean to you, of course. In fact, sometimes you wished he would be just a little bit meaner. You fantasized about him taking out his frustration on you, using his chiseled body to fuck you like a pretty little toy.

It wasn’t your fault that he looked so goddamn sexy when he was mad. His brows would furrow, sharp cheekbones somehow even more prominent as he clenched his jaw. His broad hands, always so gentle with you, would curl into fists, and you couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have that fist in your hair, yanking your head back as he railed you…

Heat pooled in your belly as you indulged in the fantasy for the hundredth time. You wanted to see that side of Nanami, wanted to feel it. After all, he kept things so bottled up. It would do your husband good to work out some tension, right?

—

Nanami was exhausted and beyond tense when he finally came home. He couldn’t shed his work stress at the door as he usually did, his broad shoulders still hunched around his ears as he slowly loosened his tie and toed off his dress shoes.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he made his way through the kitchen, smiling tiredly as he saw that you’d put the kettle on for the two of you.

“I’m in here, Ken!” You called from the bathroom, frantically scribbling the last letters of your surprise in eyeliner. You eyed yourself approvingly in the mirror before slipping your clothes back on and heading out to meet him with a kiss.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. He relaxed just a fraction as he inhaled your scent, tucking his face into your neck. “I’ve had the longest day.”

You hummed. “I’m listening, baby. Tell me all about it.” He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched you make tea. You pushed a mug into his hands before hopping onto the counter opposite him.

Nanami closed his eyes appreciatively as he sipped his tea. “Perfect as always, my dear.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know what they want from me at that damn office. Actually, I do know, and it’s ridiculous. The sales goals are impossible to meet for anyone with a conscience.”

“Oh?” You had heard this before, but sometimes marriage meant letting your husband repeat himself. And if he worked himself up, so much the better for your little plan.

“Yes. They are. And my boss berated me in front of the whole team for trying to be honest with a new hire about the way things work.” He shook his head, gaining steam. “It’s completely unfair. The whole goddamn system.” Nanami scowled into his mug.

“I’m so sorry, my love. That sounds awful.”

Nanami moved closer to you, nestling himself between your legs and leaning against your chest. Atop the kitchen counter was one of the few places you could be taller than your mountain of a husband, and you never wasted the opportunity. You ran your hand through his hair, scratching gently at his undercut.

“It’s the weekend, my love,” you murmured. “You don’t have to think about those bastards again for a few days. It’s just you and me.”

He softened a bit. “Just you and me, hm? Forgive me, dear. You know I hate bringing work home.”

“Nothing to forgive.” You bit your lip. This is where you’d make your move. “I just wish there was something I could do to help relax you.”

He had been with you long enough to recognize the suggestive lilt in your voice. “Oh, do you? You’re sweet, love. But there’s nothing to be done.”

“Nothing at all?” You ask, tugging at the buttons on his collar.

He tilted his head, wordlessly allowing you access to begin undoing them. You smooth your fingertips over the freckles at his neck, the collarbone constellations you love so much.

You’re halfway down his chest when he catches your wrists in one hand, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I adore you, but I don’t think I’m exactly in the mood to make love. I don’t want any thoughts of work to distract me from you.”

“Who said we had to make love?” You lean back to look him in the eyes as you offer the challenge, relishing the flush that crawls up his cheeks.

“Angel…”

“I mean it, Kento. I want you to use me.” Heat pools in your stomach at the vulnerable words. “Use me to fuck out all your tension, all the work bullshit. I’m all yours.”

Nanami’s wide eyes drink you in, his heart pounding. He couldn’t hide how much your words affected him, least of all how painfully hard he suddenly was, cock jumping against his slacks.

You pressed your hand against his growing bulge with a soft smile. You knew all his weaknesses. “Please, baby. I wanna make you feel good.”

He pressed his forehead against yours with a ragged sigh. “You undo me, you know that?”

You guided his hands to your waist, lifting your hips so he could pull off your shorts. He huffed a laugh against your neck. “Eager, are we?”

You bit your lip, hardly able to contain your excitement as he grew closer to unveiling your surprise. “Yes, take them off already…”

You felt him smile against your skin as he finally stripped them off, rubbing teasing circles against your cunt through your damp panties.

“Those too,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured, gently teasing as he slid them off. You watched his face, rewarded with the sight of your stoic husband’s mouth falling open. His fingers dug into your hips unconsciously, hard enough to bruise, and you loved it.

“M-my love,” he breathed, eyes locked on what you’d written in black eyeliner just above your cunt.

Kento’s Stress Toy.

He released one of your hips to trace the words with shaky fingers, his touch almost reverent. “What is this?”

You smiled up at him, cheeks burning with exhilaration. “It’s the truth. I’m your stress toy tonight, Ken.”

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “I…I don’t want to disrespect you, angel.”

“But I want you to,” you whispered. You pulled him closer by the speckled tie that still hung loose around his neck. “I know you love me. And I love you…all of you.” You let your hungry gaze fall on his tense muscles, the way his shirt strained at his shoulders. “I want to feel all of you. If you’ll give it to me.”

He watched as you slowly lifted your shirt, letting your breasts fall out. One was adorned with the word “fuck”, and the other with “doll”, your handwriting curling along the top of each tit.

Nanami groaned , the sound going straight to your aching cunt. He roughly palmed your breasts, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Oh, my dear …”

“Your doll ,” you correct, gently tugging his lip free with a smirk. “Will you play with me?”

“God yes.” Nanami scooped you off the counter and into his arms, heading straight for the bedroom as you clung to him and giggled.

You hadn’t even made it through the doorway when he crashed his lips into yours, rough and needy. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip impatiently, pushing into your mouth. “You taste perfect, my love,” he breathed, “but I need more…” 

He crossed the room and dropped you onto the bed, shoving a pillow underneath your hips as he rolled you onto your stomach. He settled himself behind you, his weight sagging the mattress so you were pulled even closer to him. He surveyed you with a low groan, drinking in the lewd sight of your ass up and your dripping, exposed cunt. 

“May I?” He always asked before he tasted you, but his voice was strained tonight, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. 

“ Please, ” you sighed, hardly able to draw a breath before Nanami was devouring you. He was messy , dragging his nose against your slit as he lapped up the slick that was already spiderwebbing between your thighs. When you tensed your legs reflexively he pulled away with a pout.

“Said you were gonna be my toy , hm love?” He held your thighs in a bruising grip and pried your legs apart. “Need to relieve my stress, right?” Your face was pressed against the bed but you could still feel the weight of his stare. He was practically panting for you, and you suddenly wondered if you’d be able to handle what you’d be wanting so badly.

With your legs held out of the way he dove back in, flattening his tongue against your lips in long, languid strokes before licking into your sopping cunt. “Be a good girl and keep these open,” he murmured as he gave your thigh a light smack, grinning as you trembled from the impact. 

He brushed the back of his hand against your lips, spreading them open and dipping his knuckles into you as he kept his tongue working. 

“Oh please, baby, fill me,” you babbled, but he was already there, sliding two thick fingers into your cunt effortlessly. He pulled his face away to look up at you adoringly. 

“Look how good you are for me. Needed me that bad?” His lips were glossed in your essence, a string of slick still connecting them to you as he pumped his fingers with a wet smacking sound. 

“Yes, hah-fuck- needed you…wan’ you to use me, angel…”

“I know love, I know.” He added a third finger, grinning at the gasp it tore from you as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “And I will, soon as you come on my face, okay?”

“This is…s’posed to be about you ,” you protested weakly, finding it hard to argue when he had you melting underneath him.

“I know, my darling. So sweet of you to offer yourself as a pretty little present for me. My naughty little wife, knowing I had such a long, hard day…” his eyes darkened, wanting to rail into you right then and there, but he caught himself with the superhuman restraint you so hated and admired. “But first I have to get you ready to take me, don’t I? Want you all warmed up so I can fuck you exactly how I want.” 

He pressed sloppy kisses to your cunt, sucking at your clit as he stretched your needy hole around his fingers. Scissoring them in and out of you, heavy-lidded eyes on the way you coated him with your arousal. He reached up to press his dripping fingers to your lips, shoving them against your tongue. “Clean your mess.”

You sucked at him eagerly, ignoring the strain in your neck as you twisted back to face him. He dragged his sharp jaw between your thighs, suckling and nipping at the sensitive skin. 

“Come for me, beautiful. Come so I can fuck my toy,” he purred, flicking his tongue against your clit faster and faster in the rhythm he knew you loved. 

“Ken, don’t stop, please, I’m…!!” You saw stars as you crumpled into the bed, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook at the force of it, but Nanami didn’t slow his assault, still rolling his tongue over you as you bucked into his mouth. 

“ Ugh it’s too much, I can’t,” you protested weakly, struggling to your knees as you tried to crawl away from his greedy tongue. 

“Ah ah, beautiful. You’re all mine, remember?” He locked his strong forearms around your thighs, holding you down. “You’re not going anywhere.” He buried his face between your legs again, licking up higher and higher, lapping up every drop of your release. 

He pulled you tighter against him, your ass practically smothering him as you were forced to arch your back harder, grateful for the pillow he’d balanced you on. “Mmmm that’s it baby, grind on my tongue.”

Your face burned at the words, but he was already lifting you effortlessly, rocking you back against his face in a steady rhythm that had his tongue slipping deep into your cunt.

You hardly had a chance to breathe before your second orgasm was creeping up on you, an overwhelming intensity that you were helpless to escape from as Nanami held you to himself. He kept going even as you shuddered into another peak, his hands kneading into the fat of your hips and ass. 

Your vision went fuzzy as you scrabbled at the bedsheets, desperately trying to cling to something, anything to ground you. Overstimulated tears pooled in your eyes, every nerve ending on fire with the intensity of your pleasure. 

Hoarse, fucked-out moans were all you could manage in response to Nanami’s stream of praises, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked gushing for him. He finally pulled away with one last soft kiss to your hole, making it clench around nothing. 

“You’re so perfect, love,” he sighed, smoothing his hands over your hair, your back, brushing his lips over your neck. “You’re not done yet, are you?” He pulled off his tie in one smooth motion, trailing the fabric down your spine to watch you squirm. “I’ve had such a very long day. I’ve been so tense , my dear.”

“Not done,” you panted, turning onto your back and reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. You pulled his hand down to trace the words you had written on your skin again, reminding him of what you were. All his. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. He slipped his tie around your wrists, pulling them together in a loose hold. He slowly stretched your arms above your head, pinning your wrists easily with one hand. He trailed his mouth back down your arms, gentle kisses and nips at the soft skin until his face hovered over yours. 

“Are you ready, darling? I’m going to take you up on your very generous offer.” Your husband’s soft eyes glinted with something sharp as he freed himself from his slacks. 

You nodded, feeling your wrecked cunt start to throb again at the sight of his cock, achingly hard and drooling pre already. As much as he’d already done to you, though, you still had a few cards to play. 

You wriggled your wrists out of his grip, still bound by his tie, and reached down to stroke his cock. Lightly at first, watching through your eyelashes as he threw his head back, throat bared and jaw clenched. You gently pulled him closer, slotting his swollen head between your folds, just barely letting him press into you. 

Nanami hissed through his teeth, dark eyes desperate as you teased him. “My love, don’t, hah - don’t be mean , I need you too badly…”

Electricity surged up your spine at his neediness. This was exactly where you’d wanted him. “I won’t be mean, baby, that’s your job tonight. Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

“My day,” he huffed an impatient laugh. “You know how it was. It was shit.” He bucked his hips against you, trying to get deeper, but you held him back, still stroking his tip and nothing more. You were lying in a pool of your own slick now, torturing yourself as much as him. 

“Oh?” You rocked your hips forward suddenly, forcing his whole head into you, then went still again. 

Nanami whimpered . “What do you want me to say? Work is shit .” His hands were trembling, clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched where you dragged him against yourself. 

“That’s it, baby. Aren’t you frustrated? Don’t you want to let your fuck doll make it all better?” Your words were calculated, flung at him with the most seductive look you had in your arsenal, lips pursed in an empty-headed little pout that you knew he had a guilty weakness for. If you knew your Kento, he wouldn’t be able to resist… there. 

Nanami surged forward, pushing your hands out of the way and back above your head, your back arching obscenely as he slammed himself to the hilt in your cunt. “This is what you wanted my dear, isn’t it? This is what you’ve been waiting for,” he growled, not needing an answer. He kneaded your tits, the fuck doll label smearing under his touch. 

He shoved your knees up to your ears, nearly folding you in half as he rutted into you with a force you’d never felt, hips smacking against yours with bruising strength. 

“Work.” “Was.” “Shit.”

He punctuated each word with a sharp spank to your ass. He roughly palmed the reddening skin, swallowing your cries with a messy, open-mouthed kiss. He buried his face in your neck as he kept up a punishing rhythm, heavy balls slapping against you with each mean thrust. 

“All fucking day I have to listen to idiots tell me what to do. All fucking day I have to sit in a cubicle, ripping people off…” he pulled out slowly, dragging his cock against your walls so you could feel every throbbing vein. 

“And you know what I think about all fucking day, my love?” He whispered the pet name into your ear, making you shiver. “What keeps me going?”

“This.” 

He slammed into you without warning, every inch bullying into you, the breath ripped from your lungs. When he bottomed out he held you there, grinding against you, making you clench and twitch against the sheer depth of him, filling you impossibly deep. 

“I think about this . About coming home to my pretty wife and fucking her senseless .” His whispers were harsh against your neck, his voice ragged. Your mouth was stretched in a scream, sure you’d wake the neighbors if not for your husband’s heavy hand coming down on your mouth. 

“You’re always so good for me, always so happy to see me…sometimes I wish I could show those fucks at the office exactly what I come home to, just to watch them burn with jealousy.” His kisses grew rougher, sucking and biting at your neck, laying claim to your skin. 

“Wish I could mark you up like this and have you come visit me the next day, wearing some tight, low-cut dress that shows them all exactly how you’re mine. How little anything else could possibly matter to me…” he shudders against you, his fantasy overwhelming. “Maybe have you crawl under my desk and take care of me right there, since you wanna be my little stress toy, hm?” 

Your mind is scattered, trying desperately to focus on his words and the increasingly difficult act of staying sane as he fucks you into oblivion. Your eyes roll back as another orgasm builds, his cock reaching a secret spot deep inside of you, sending you over the edge again. 

The new height of pleasure makes you stupid, babbling into his chest as he fucks you through it, gasping for air from the press of him folding you in half. “Yes, please Ken, I’d do it, wanna be your fuck doll, need this, need you, need… nnghhh! ” 

“That’s it gorgeous, my beautiful toy, my perfect love, come on my cock, come from me using you like this…” Nanami’s brows are knit together, his face twisted with concentration as he pumps into you again and again and again, his rhythm never faltering, he’s nothing if not consistent, ramming into your sweet spot over and over until you’re not sure where you start and he ends. 

The base of his cock is decorated with a soft white ring of the cream that’s still leaking out of you, and he moans at the sight. “God you’re such a mess for me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet, darling…” He smiles down at you, looking angelic even as he tries to break the bed in half. “And from writing such filthy things on your perfect body…you were soaked just waiting for me to come home and see this, weren’t you? Naughty little thing.” 

You moan helplessly in answer, unable to deny it. This was everything you’d wanted and more. Your eyes slide shut of their own volition, and he gently taps your cheek. “Oh no, my dear, not yet. Don’t worry, I won't break my toy.” He slows, just barely, letting you breathe. 

He traces his fingertips over the words between your hips again, reverent. “What does this say again, angel? What are you?”

“Kento’s stress toy…” you murmur. 

“Mmm, that’s right. And you’re being such a good one,” he praised. “My brilliant wife, with such wonderful ideas.” He kisses you softly on the lips, the tenderness almost shocking. “Can you be a good toy for a little bit longer?”

You nod your head eagerly, though you don’t think you can move much else. Your arms and legs feel like (well-fucked) jello, the tie around your wrists almost forgotten in the sea of other, stronger sensations. 

Nanami seems to remember it at the same moment, tsking apologetically as he slips it off of you and rubs your arms. “Are your wrists okay, my love?” 

You almost laugh at the sudden return of soft, protective Kento. “Yes, they’re fine. It’s all fine. I feel amazing.” 

“You are amazing,” he soothes. “In that case, can you hold on to me?” He drapes your arms over his neck, holding himself steady against your hips. 

“Just like that.” And he’s fucking you again, in the way only he can, fast and hard and precise. You’re grateful for the grip around his neck as he pulls you up and over his lap, lifting and dropping you onto his cock like you’re weightless. 

“Kento ohhhh!!” You dig your nails into his back instinctively, biting back a scream as you feel his cock jump inside of you in response. You don’t need to be told twice, raking your nails over his back as he uses you mercilessly. 

He’s back to muttered praises, his honey-silk voice adoring as his cock splits you in half. You’re drunk on the dichotomy, dizzy with lust and love for the man beneath you. 

He leans forward and tips you back onto the bed, his muscled arms caging you in as he continues pistoning into you. Sweat drips from his face to yours, and you dart your tongue out to lick the droplets away. Somehow, that of all things makes him blush, dark red dusting his cheeks as he watches the act. 

You reach a shaky hand up to brush back the strands of hair that have fallen into his eyes, and he catches your arm to press greedy kisses to the inside of your wrist. 

“Ken- Kento, I love you,” you moan, every stroke of his cock sending electricity down your limbs, your whole body tuned to him, undone and rewired in ecstasy. 

“I love you,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his powerful thrusts finally, finally stuttering as he nears his peak. “I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck I love you…” 

Nanami came with a broken cry, his cock pumping what seemed like an endless stream of hot, thick seed into the deepest part of you, his arms shaking from the effort of keeping himself up. You pulled him down onto you, stroking at his hair as he shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm. 

You lay there in blissful quiet, sweat and slick sticking your skin together, feeling each other’s wild heartbeats begin to slow. Nanami reluctantly pulled out of you with an over-sensitive groan and curled into your side, his head on your chest. You ran your hands over his hair, his neck, his back, proud to feel the tension slowly leave his tired body. 

“Do you feel better, Kento?” You asked, happily exhausted. 

He laughed out loud, wrapping his arms around you and shifting to curl you into his side. “I’ve never been more relaxed in my life, my love. I can’t even remember what I do for work.” He kissed the top of your head and sighed contentedly. “You were incredible. Thank you, darling.” He pulled you closer. “I think I might be out sick on Monday, for that matter…”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll always be your stress relief, my love.”

“And I’ll be yours,” he smiled. “What did you use to write this, anyway?” 

“Oh it’s an old eyeliner!” Your laugh turned into a yawn. 

“Mm, good to know. For when I return the favor,” Nanami said, but you were already fast asleep in his arms. 

[komoboko]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐨 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝

ft: tanjiro kamado, zenitsu agatsuma, inosuke hashibira, kanao tsuyuri, genya shinazugawa

Genlas canon I’m ufotable so what if I made a kny oc bcs of genya 🗣️ ・ignore how half of these are about sleep

# tanjiro ! ☆

TANJIRO is such a sweetheart, he really is. But when it comes to sticking to a schedule, he does not make any shortcut or excuses to what will happen. Whatever the schedule says goes no ifs ands or buts. Thankfully he only uses a morning routine anyways.

He had heard from both Rengoku and Mitsuri that having a morning schedule is very good to prepare you for the day. So tanjiro has one to! He tries to get you to follow the routine along with him but you would rather stay in bed instead..

The moment the sun begins to rise is the time Tanjiro wakes up as well. It’s almost as if his body had a set in clock to wake him up. He already gets himself up before he comes and “pesters” you, who is still sound asleep when he’s ready to start the day. Tanjiro only pokes your cheek trying to get you to wake up.

You only groan turning your body over as you already know what he’s waking you up for. “Tanjiro I don’t even think the sun is up yet..” you mumble putting a pillow over your head. Tanjiro only silently laughs before replying “That doesn’t mean we can’t wake up either, if we don’t go fast we’re going to miss our time to train before leaving!” He only flashes a beaming smile, you wished to see that smile in your dreams right now instead.

# zenitsu ! ☆

If he had to be honest ZENITSU is unironically really clumsy. Sometimes he’s doing it to get a laugh out of you, but other times he’s genuinely falling. He can’t help it! It used to be something that happened every now and then but it’s almost become more of a habit of his now.

Even if everybody knows he really is just clumsy, if your around without fail he’ll try to play it off like it was on purpose. If your around and he’s already mid fall he’s going to try and stick the landing to make it seem like he was being funny and just doing it on purpose. Other times when it’s too late to cover up his mistake he tries to cover it up with a cheesy pick up line.

You’re only sharpening your sword, admiring the peace until it’s disrupted once again. You can hear a very familiar voice chanting your name as the voice only grows closer and closer. You turn around to see zenitsu rushing towards you after turning a corner, and from what you can tell he has a couple of flowers in his hand.

It’s only when he gets closer is when he somehow manages to trip on whatever was in his path. He comes tumbling towards you as you rush to his aid only to see him quickly put a rose in his mouth. He stares at you with a prideful gaze as you bite back a laugh. You can’t hold it in anymore once he screams howling something along the lines of “THE ROSE POKED ME!!”

# inosuke ! ☆

Sleeping around INOSUKE is no fun at all. He normally has a lot of energy so staying up late is a given, if you manage to actually fall asleep before he does your lucky. If he even manages to get tired and get close to a bed you’re doomed.

When inosuke is asleep there is nothing that is going to wake him up except himself. He is stone cold asleep meaning whatever he does do in his asleep is a complete ball game to deal with. It’s obvious that he is going to be uncomfortably loud, but he really handsy and not in the romantic way at all..

You groan on the edge of the bed as the cold air breezes against you, an hour before you were very much comfortable in the bed, alone at least. The moment inosuke toppled into bed was when everything came to an end. He took all the blankets for himself, he sprawled out taking up most of the space, and did this all while asleep already.

Not to mention the fact he was almost louder than when kyojuro when he’s talking whenever he snores. Every other moment the room rattles with how loud he is. To the point where you get so fed up you grab the one pillow you can find and move to sleep on the couch. It was much easier falling asleep on the couch, the only problem is when you woke up you find inosuke still completely asleep on top of you.

# kanao ! ☆

A lot of people don’t realize that KANAO can be unusually blunt. Around you she feels more open to speak her mind about something and without realizing it. Her words can come out much more harsh than she had originally intended it.

When she’s around you she’s much more careful at watching her tongue, as she obviously does not wish to hurt your feelings. Which she is really good at!! But if you ask for honest criticism she can’t say that she won’t hold back even on you.

You stare at kanao’s paper as she continues to sketch the treeline in the window Infront of the both of you. You’re impressed by her eye for art and even wonder if she could give you some tips as well. It’s not like you haven’t been practicing after all! “Kanao? Would you mind giving me some tips on how to improve my drawing? Honest criticism please.” You ask the girl as she turns to you. Kanao stares down at your drawing seeing what she believes is a samurai down on your paper.

She looks up back at you taking a deep breath before saying, “well your drawing isn’t near accurate to what time period I assume you’re going for. The proportions are off, the armor plates aren’t in the right place, the blade is incorrect, the legs aren’t even or balance the upper body.” Your jaw drops as kanao only looks back at you putting a hand on your shoulder. “I could help you if you like.” She hopes this would make up for shock she put on your face

# genya ! ☆

While GENYA can normally keep things together, there are times where he doesn’t keep track how long he has been a demon. It’s rare considering he normally on a mission for this to ever really happen, but it doesn’t mean it hasn’t.

The mission had gone well to say the least but everything had gone on for so long. Task after task, minute after minute Genya had become more weary and more irritable. By the time he was actually released he couldn’t care about anything except going to bed. On the plus side it would mean he could see your face as well.

When he finally made it to the inn you to we’re staying at he didn’t think twice about immediately moving towards the bedrooms. He failed to see his reflection or acknowledge how loud his footsteps were moving around the house. You groggily open your eyes startled awake by the incoming noise, you don’t remember anybody staying with you. Not until a shadow peers through the doorway.

You turn around to see yellow eyes stand out from the dark hallway. They pierce menacingly almost into the room your in, slowly creeping closer in the dark. Naturally you scream but your surprised when the figure screams to. It stumbles around the room until it can see its own reflection. It’s only then when you realize it’s just genya who didn’t even realize he was a demon himself. He only mumbles out a small “ohh..” before climbing into bed to try and trying to apologize to you..

[foundfamilynonsense]

Sometimes I just want to sit down and say, like… Gay men, lesbian women, and straight people. You could wake up tomorrow and discover you’re actually bi.

Tomorrow you could meet someone of the sex you do not think you are attracted to and go “oh fuck”. There is no rule— nothing—that says that could not happen to you at any moment.

“I’ve lived forty years without—” so?

“I can just tell I’m—” how?

Now, we can get into the conversation of how these labels aren’t actually law, and that you can be a lesbian even if there was that one guy and you can be a straight guy if there were those two guys in college and etc.

And that’s totally true and valid and we should normalize that. But that’s another post.

My point for this post is that, yes, you are one strange meeting away from being bisexual. It will probably never happen. But you can never say with 100% certainty that it won’t happen.

But that doesn’t mean every gay, lesbian, and straight person should start calling themselves bisexual just in case. That would be a completely absurd thing to expect.

Can you imagine if we go around to gay men and were like “but how do you know you’ll never be attracted to a woman?” Imagine if we did it to straight people? The idea you have to call yourself Bi just in case?

This is easy to understand. So why is it so hard for people to understand when it comes to asexual and aromantic people?

Like… I suppose I could wake up tomorrow and catch some feels for someone. I… doubt it. But it could happen.

But I’ve been alive 22 years and it hasn’t happened yet. So why should I expect it? Why should I spend time thinking about it? Why should I label myself based on that slim possibility?

The number of straight people who have said to me “well you never know” or “maybe you just haven’t met the right person” or whatever. Can you all IMAGINE what they would say to me if I threw it back?

“Oh, sally, you don’t like any women yet but you never know. Maybe you just haven’t met the right woman.” Their heads would explode I think.

I am an adult. I have been through college and it’s social life. My brain is (basically) done developing and I finished puberty quite a while ago. How late do you have to be before people concede that you’re not a “late bloomer” you’re just not gonna bloom at all?

Maybe tomorrow I will wake up and be attracted to someone. I still would consider myself on the aroace spectrum. But to be honest I think I know myself enough to trust it’s not going to happen. And I don’t think I should have to plan for it or expect it.