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coolemmasulivan2 · 2 months ago

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The Woman Next Door

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After winning the Dutch Grand Prix, Lando returns home to Monaco, eager to prove his genuine feelings to his neighbor, especially after their bet.

Word Count: 4181

You're my downfall, you're my muse My worst distraction, my rhythm and blues I can't stop singing It's ringing in my head for you

Lando had been your neighbour for nearly two years, a friendly presence in the building. But with you, his charm seemed to intensify. He flirted casually, his eyes sparkling with a playful passion. "You're my type!" He'd always say. Yet, your heart remained unmoved. The women he brought home were a strong contrast to you: tall figures in designer heels, showing their immense beauty. You, however, were a simple person who preferred simplicity over expensive clothing and felt most comfortable in jeans and sneakers.

Lately, his flirtations had intensified. He always ensured you knew he was single and was waiting for you. His promises of making you happy and treating you right were sweet, but you weren't fooled. Deep down, you couldn't deny a flicker of attraction, but you kept it hidden. Lando was a handsome man, but you'd seen enough to know he was more than just a pretty face.

"How was your family?" Emily asked, turning to you as she drove. She'd picked you up from the airport in Nice.

You smiled. "They're fine! It was great to be back home. I missed them."

"You know who else missed you?" Emily teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Who?" You asked, confused.

"Your hot neighbour! I ran into him yesterday at the supermarket and he asked about you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Did he?"

"Yeah! He said, 'How's Y/n? I haven't seen her for a while. The building seems quite boring without her.'"

You crossed your arms. "He didn't say that!"

"I'm serious! I told him you were coming back today, so maybe he'll be waiting by your door, ready to confess his feelings. And then... BANG! Happily ever after."

You couldn't help but wince at Emily's over-the-top dramatic gestures. Despite her tendency to go overboard, you couldn't help but love her for it.

"You've been watching too many films."

"You're going to end up together. Mark my words." She replied and you made a gagging sound that made her laugh.

As she dropped you off at your apartment building, you grabbed your luggage and thanked her with a tight hug. You entered the building and pressed the lift button.

As the liftdoors opened, you stepped inside, dragging your luggage behind you. You were admiring your reflection in the mirror when a hand stopped the doors, causing them to reopen.

You turned to see Lando, dressed in a McLaren white vintage t-shirt and black jeans. His curls were perfectly coiffed, and a smirk played on his lips. Like always.

"Look who's back!" Lando's voice filled the cramped lift. "Good to see you."

"Hi, Lando." You replied.

The two of you lived on the top floor, making the lift feel even smaller and slower. "How were the holidays?"

"Fine! Too short." You admitted, the tension palpable. "What about you?"

Lando studied you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your face. "They were good. Family, friends, good weather. But I'm glad to be back to work." The lift seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. "And happy to see you again."

"Here we go!"

Lando chuckled. "What?"

"You know what! You know that flirting with me isn't going to work. I'm not interested."

"But I am!" He said. You quickly looked away, praying for the elevator doors to open. "I'm very much interested."

"To how many girls have you said that?" You asked, your voice laced with scepticism.

"None, believe it or not." Lando replied, his tone sincere.

As the lift doors opened, you stepped out and fumbled for your keys. Lando leaned against the wall beside you. "What can I do to convince you to go on a date with me?"

You took a deep breath, finally finding your keys. He was starting to make you nervous. "I don't think your fans would like to see you having dinner with a woman."

"That's not a problem for me." He said confidently. "I'll have dinner with whoever I want." As you unlocked your apartment door, he continued, "But if that's the issue, we can have dinner at my place, eat McDonald's in my car, anything to make you comfortable."

You pushed your luggage inside and faced him. "Lando…" You began, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not looking for a one-night stand. I want a relationship. A public relationship. I want to go out with my partner, have dinner, eat ice cream, have meaningful conversations on the balcony. I want trust, and I don't want to worry about being cheated on. I want kids and I don't want to wait until my thirties. Marriage isn't essential, but I want this person to be my last. If you want me to go on a date with you, prove to me that you're that person." Lando listened intently, his expression serious. "Bye, Lando!"

You started to close the door, but Lando's hand quickly stopped it.

"Uh, when was the last time you saw me bring a woman home?"

You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure. "What?"

"I haven't brought anyone home since I told you I liked you. Four months ago! I never told you I was looking for a one-night stand. I've always been open about my past relationships and I've never cheated on anyone. I also want to have a family and I'll convince you to change your mind about marriage." You stared at him, speechless. "But if I have to prove myself, I'm up for the challenge!" He said, winking as stepped away. "Bye, Y/n."

You closed and locked your door, your heart pounding in your chest. Your cheeks were flushed. For the first time, he had left you speechless. You'd always dismissed his flirting as a joke, but now you realized that maybe it was more than that.

Later that night, you invited your friends Maria and Lisa over for dinner and a movie night. You didn't want to be alone with Lando next door, and you needed to talk about it.

"He's so into you!" Lisa exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's the classic boy-next-door story."

You set the popcorn and wine on the coffee table. Maria, already a bit tipsy from dinner, was making the most confident comments you'd ever heard from her.

"Just go on a date with him. He's handsome, rich, and lives next door. What more do you want?"

"I want stability, honesty, and someone who makes me happy and laughs with me." You replied.

"He already does that!" Maria insisted. "He was honest with you, you laugh with him, and I'm sure he'd make you happy, if you know what I mean." She chuckled, and Lisa joined in.

"You're drunk!" You teased.

"I am, but I'm still the wiser one." She retorted. "Why don't you just sleep with him? See how that makes you feel."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You know I'm not like that. When I'm with someone, it's because I like them."

"But you do like him." Lisa argued.

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom."

Lando was engrossed in a game with Max when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, surprised by the late hour. He wasn't expecting anyone and it was unusual for someone to just walk into the building and ring his bell.

"Someone's at the door." He told Max, removing his headphones. The doorbell rang again. "Give me a second."

He was taken aback to see your friend, Maria, standing there. Her cheeks flushed and the scent of alcohol was strong.

"Lando, hi!" She slurred.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. One of your other friends was watching from your apartment door.

"Hi, Maria! What can I do for you?" Lando asked, his tone polite but curious.

"Quick!" Lisa whispered to Maria.

"Look, I'm going to the point. Y/n wants to go on a date with you, but she's afraid you only want to get in her pants." Maria blurted out.

Lando crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Is that so? Does she know you're doing this?"

You were nowhere to be seen, and he couldn't believe you'd ask your friends to do something like that.

"Of course not! But we're her friends and we know she really likes you. She doesn't show it, but she does." Maria insisted.

You dried your hands and glanced in the mirror, adjusting your hair before opening the bathroom door.

To your surprise, the girls were gone from the living room, but you heard giggles coming from the door. As you approached, you realized what was happening.

"So, about the date…" You pushed past Lisa, finding Maria deep in conversation with Lando.

You quickly stepped out and grabbed Maria's hand. "What are you doing?" You were panicking.

"I'm helping you!" She whispered, but everyone could still hear her.

"You're not. Come on!" You started walking her back to your apartment, but Lando stopped you by gently grabbing Maria's wrist.

"You can't take her now. She was about to tell me what I need to do to convince you to go on a date with me." He said, smirking. You resisted the urge to slap the smirk off his face.

"She's drunk. She doesn't know what she's talking about." You argued.

"She clearly does." Lando insisted.

Maria nodded in agreement. "Yes, I do. Lando, you just have to win."

You and Lando looked at her, each holding one of her wrists.

"What?" You asked.

"She'll go on a date with you if you win the next race." Maria announced.

Lando smirked and looked at you. You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker. "We have a deal!"

"No, we don't!" You said, but no one seemed to be listening.

Maria extended her hand for Lando to shake. "Deal! You better win, because I won't be able to help you again." She winked and went inside your apartment.

You looked at Lando, your arms crossed. "That's not going to happen, you know that right?"

"Why? Are you afraid I'll win?" He challenged.

"No!" You replied.

"So, let's do it. If I win, you go on a date with me--"

"And if you lose, you'll stop asking me to go on a date with me!" You added. Lando stood still, considering. "What? Are you afraid you'll lose?"

After a moment, Lando extended his hand. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand and shook it.

The weekend arrived sooner than you'd expected. Lando had qualified P1, making you question your decision to agree to the bet. You were a Mercedes fan, but deep down, were you rooting for McLaren? It was great to see him win again, but was this really the best time to root for him?

You sat on Emily's sofa between Lisa and her dog, Zeus, watching the race. You wore your Mercedes cap, while Lisa and Maria sported their Ferrari t-shirt. Neither of your friends was a McLaren fan, but today they couldn't stop shouting the name of the British driver.

"Oh my god, he's going to win!" Lisa exclaimed.

"Don't jinx it." Emily replied, slapping her arm.

You slumped on the sofa, unable to say anything. Only when the race ended did you let out a sigh you didn't realize you were holding. He had won the Dutch Grand Prix. He had actually won.

Your friends jumped in the air, celebrating his victory. You ran your hands through your hair.

"Guess who's going on a date with a hot British driver!" Lisa mocked, pulling you up from the sofa.

"You are!" Emily repeated, jumping around you.

An hour later, you were walking home alone. The Monaco weather was pleasant, and the streets were bustling with people.

As you arrived at the building, your phone vibrated in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Lando.

Lando: Hope you're free tomorrow night! I can't wait for our date.

Fuck, you mumbled to yourself.

On Monday, you left the apartment earlier than usual. The night before, Lando had knocked on your door, hoping to talk to you, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. The next day, you woke up an hour earlier and left for work, hoping to avoid him on your way out. But the universe had other plans.

As you were leaving the building, you bumped into Lando, who had been out for a run.

He chuckled. "Leaving earlier to ignore me?"

You cleared your throat. "No, I just have a big project going on… and have to go earlier."

"Okay." He said, clearly not believing you. "So, I hope you're excited for tonight."

"I don't-- I don't think I have time tonight." You stammered.

"Well, I already reserved our table, and I don't think you'd back out of a bet. So, I'll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something orange if you have it." He whispered in your ear before walking away.

You'd been thinking about Lando all day, your mind racing with anticipation and nerves.

Upon returning home, you immediately took a long shower and emptied your closet to find the perfect outfit. A nice orange summer dress caught your eye. You couldn't remember the last time you'd worn it, but you recalled how flattering it was with your tan.

When you put it on, it looked even better than you remembered. However, doubts crept into your mind. What if he just wanted to get in your pants? What if this was all a joke to him?

Lando knocked on your door at 7 pm sharp, and a few seconds later, you opened it. Lando struggled to contain his astonishment at your appearance.

You were wearing a cute red dress and heels. Your long hair was wavy and you looked stunning. You always looked amazing, but tonight there was a special glow about you. It was a shame you weren't wearing orange.

"Wow!" He said, taking in your appearance. "You look... beautiful."

You blushed and looked away, trying to hide it. "Thank you." You whispered.

You closed your apartment door, and Lando called for the lift. The ride to the garage was silent, surprising you that Lando hadn't said anything flirty or teased you.

He guided you towards his Lamborghini Urus, and you muttered a silent thank-you that he chose the Urus. Of all his cars, it was the most "normal" on the streets of Monaco.

As you left the garage, you broke the silence. "Where are we going?" You asked over the soft music of the radio.

Lando glanced at you. He looked good in his black pants and white shirt. You loved a man in a white shirt.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises!" You said.

Lando laughed. "You hate surprises or you hate my surprises?"

You looked away. "Look at the road, Lando."

After a minute or two, Lando spoke again. "You look really beautiful."

Once again, you blushed. Thankfully, it was starting to get dark. "You already said that."

He stopped at a red light, gazing intensely at you. "And if you allow me, I would say that to you every single day." For a moment, his intense gaze made your legs feel like jelly.

The tension was broken only by a car honking behind you. Lando raised his hand in apology and pulled away. Three minutes later, he pulled up at the marina.

"I agreed to a date with you, not to run off." He said, getting out of the car.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and Lando opened your door. He gently placed his hand on your back, barely touching it, and guided you towards a large yacht named Aurora.

"It's from a friend of mine." Lando said as he pulled you towards the yacht deck. "He named it after his baby daughter. He let me borrow it for a few hours." Your mouth gaped open in surprise at the sight of the table for two, beautifully set with roses and candles. "I thought you'd be more comfortable alone." He explained. "Without the prying eyes of strangers or paparazzi."

Once again, he'd left you speechless. The candlelight, the city view, the soft music, and the sound of the water hitting the yacht created breathtaking scenery.

"I didn't picture you as the romantic type." You said.

Lando put his hands in his pockets and looked at you. "I can be romantic… when I have to." You didn't respond, just stared at him. He had two buttons undone, revealing the tan of his chest and the necklace he wore. "Let's sit?" He suggested and you nodded.

He pulled out your chair, demonstrating his gentlemanly side. He sat down opposite you, and a moment later, a man in a black suit approached with a bottle of wine.

The man poured the wine for the two of you. You could tell it was a very expensive wine just by looking at the bottle.

"Cheers!" Lando said, raising his glass. You clinked your glass with his and took a sip. It was delicious. "Do you like it?"

You nodded. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"

Lando chuckled. "Far from it. I want you to stay sober and experience firsthand how great of a date I can create for you."

"You're really taking this seriously!"

"When I like someone, I always take things seriously." He said, his face turning serious. "I fight for what I want. And it's no lie that I want you."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide your emotions. Before you could respond, the food arrived. It was a pepperoni pizza for you and a prosciutto one for Lando.

"How-- how did you know--?"

Lando smiled. "You order a lot of pizzas. Like… a lot. So one day, I stopped the delivery guy and asked him what you had ordered. He said you always ordered the same one."

You tried to suppress a laugh at his silliness. "Not creepy at all." You said sarcastically.

Lando laughed. "I know, I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you."

You kept on talking and eating, and you both laughed a lot. You had to admit that you had never felt so comfortable with someone before. After you finished eating, Lando and you walked to the car.

"I'll take you home." he said. He turned on the car but paused. "Unless you don't want to go home yet." For a moment, he seemed shy, which was unlike him, at least around you.

You thought for a moment. "I don't know..." It surprised you that you were considering spending more time with him than necessary. "I'm not going home with you if that's what you're thinking."

Lando laughed. "Well, I guess I'll have to call you an Uber if you're not going home with me. Like, to the same building." You blushed and let out a sigh. He loved teasing you. "Do you trust me?"

You gave him a side look. "No!"

"Wow, that was brutal. Let me rephrase the question: Can I take you somewhere, please?"

You hesitated, but eventually nodded your head.

Lando drove to the top of the hill, a spot he liked to visit when everything felt overwhelming. The view was breathtaking. Monaco looked beautiful during the day, but it was at night when the city truly took your breath away. He parked the car, and you both stepped out.

"This is beautiful." You said, looking at the view.

"It is. But it's not as beautiful as you," Lando replied. You blushed and looked away. You'd never blushed so much in your life.

You sat down on the bench and Lando joined you. "What do you really want from me?" You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" He replied.

"I'm not stupid, Lando. You're an F1 driver. You're young and handsome. You could have anyone you wanted."

"But I want you!" He smiled. "You're smart, funny, and incredibly beautiful. And you're different from the women I've dated in the past. You're genuine. Like I've already told you, I like you. A lot."

You looked at him, your heart filled with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "I don't know, Lando."

He squeezed your hand gently. "I understand that I'm not the easiest guy to be in a relationship with, but I'm willing to take things slowly. I just want you to know how I feel." The two of you sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying each other's company. "Do you want to go back?" Lando asked after a while.

You nodded. "I think it's time."

As you drove back down the hill, you couldn't shake the feeling that something special was happening between you and Lando. You were excited, but also a little nervous.

When you arrived at your apartment building, Lando parked the car in the garage, but neither of you made a move to step out. "Thank you for tonight. I really enjoyed it." You said.

He smiled. "I'm glad you agreed."

"Well, I had no choice, remember?"

"Yeah. Remember me to thank Maria for the bet." He laughed, and you joined him.

"Yeah, yeah." After a while, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet kiss, and Lando closed his eyes as he felt your lips against his face.

As you pulled away, Lando hesitated, but after a second, he cupped your face and gently kissed you on the lips. Your heart raced, and you closed your eyes, quickly kissing him back and tangling your hand in his hair. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours. His touch was gentle, and you felt a warmth spread through you.

When you pulled away, you were both breathless. You looked at each other, your eyes filled with love and desire. "I've been wanting to do that, for a very long time." He said.

You looked into his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. "To how many girls have you said that?" You teased him.

He looked at your lips. "None. And if you let me, you're going to be the only one." He said and he couldn't help but smile.

You smiled back. You couldn't help but think that your life had just taken a turn for the better. And so did Lando. Finally, he got the girl. The woman next door.

#f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris imagine #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4

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grandisknight · 1 month ago

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afternoon treatment | zayne

summary: Zayne follows the "doctor's orders" in order to feel better.

tags: suggestive, established relationship, gn!reader (no specific descriptors), soft zayne, medical kink, 'doctor' kink, kissing, medical procedures (auscultation), medical inaccuracies (in a sense), chest mention, straddling

wc: 2.2k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: relax time affinity 80 with zayne and that one liner he has. that's it, that's the tweet.

Afternoons at Akso Hospital were always the busiest, from routine check-ups to meetings alike. Staff and accompanying patients hustled through the halls and hushed rooms—there was always something happening, and the cardiac surgery department was no different.

Yet, today seemed to offer Zayne some grace and time to reside in the chilled comforts of his workspace. The morning surgery went well, and his next procedure wouldn’t be for another hour or two.

Therefore, he’s rewarded himself with a simple diagnosis report. The file was lighter in subject, easier to digest in comparison to what was usually on his plate. In his mind, this was a well-fitted solution to kill some time before returning to sterile scrubs and tense operating rooms.

Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he looks over their exterior when a soft series of familiar knocks reach his door.

“It’s open,” he calls out, rectangular reflection returning to the onscreen data. Without missing a beat and sparing another glance, he adds on, “Weren’t you supposed to visit a No-Hunt Zone today?”

“Finished my observations earlier than expected,” you chirped, pushing the door to a close and striding towards his busy desk.

Recent reports of Metaflux fluctuations had consumed your bright morning with Herte Knaves running amok. Nothing out of the ordinary from your usual line of work, easily dealt with in a couple of bulleted blows. Their dispersing remains flecked the air in a quiet flurry that reminded you of snowflakes—naturally, your feet led you to the pristine floors of Akso soon thereafter.

Curiously, you sidestep to shadow his focused form, gaze altering between the wall of text and precise clicks of his keys. “Thought you were on break, but it seems like you’re working,” you mumble, in awe of his steady pace. “As always, Dr. Zayne.”

He speaks with an obvious, “Well, I am at work. The call is coming from inside the house.”

“Zayne,” you punctuate. His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed, and you cross your arms in turn. “You know what I mean.”

A faint chuckle passes under his breath. “You’re accusing me as if I’m in the wrong.”

He was not, actually—far from it. That goes without saying when you were in the middle of his office, imposing during said work time. But you’ve been in his graces for nearly a year now, and know well enough that it was only around this time in the afternoons would he be able to catch a breather.

You shake your head, putting on your best voice before coming to your defense. “No, but the doctor’s orders require you to take a break.”

This catches his attention, fingers slowing their clicks and chair swiveling to face you head on. Slight confusion quirks his brow, mirroring your folded arms in observation. “And pray tell, who would that be? Last time I checked, only one of us is a certified surgeon in this room.”

Your eyes instinctively dart to his stationed badge, credentials on full display against his chest pocket. He had you beat there, at the very least.

“You may hold a degree for medical hearts,” you start, taking a step into the space of his parted knees and tapping your chest.

“But I hold the degree to your heart.” Your finger redirects to the meeting point of his neckline, resting above the aforementioned muscle.

“Is that so?” The corners of his lips lift, amused by your display and newfound authority. “I was unaware of such a professional. Surely, I would’ve remembered seeing someone as dedicated as you during my studies.”

He takes the chance to brush away a strand of hair hugging your cheek, neatly tucking it behind your ear. Gentle appreciation fills his comment of, “Would’ve made them much more enjoyable, too.”

“That’s besides the point.” You wave him off, though it doesn’t fan away the heat blushing your ears, sensing his underlying meaning.

Returning to your self-presumed role, you nod. “As your dedicated and completely legitimate doctor, I believe you’re showing concerning symptoms.”

Zayne hums, withdrawing his hand. “I’m afraid your assessment is lost on me. What exactly are these symptoms?”

“Well, my patient seems to love working overtime. This can cause unnecessary stress to the body and mind, for one.”

You lift one knee to bracket his, the other following in suit—Zayne adapts rather quickly, leaning back to give you space as you carefully straddle his waist. His arms naturally circle around you, hands hovering your tailbone to keep you steady.

Neatly settled on top, you continue with your mild lecture of reported observations. “Even though he should be using the precious time in-between work to give himself a well-deserved break, he does the exact opposite.”

“He is on a break,” Zayne says to his defense. “It’s barely considered heavy work.”

“Doing any kind of work during down-time does not count, mister,” you chide.

You gently tussle his bangs, pushing them to the side and revealing his forehead. Smoothing over the skin above his brow, your eyes searched his expression before noting a shadow of fatigue beneath his lashes. He really was working himself to the bone, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“A dire symptom of a workaholic is when his skin is faring worse than usual,” you exaggerate. “Your eye bags are so prominent they could be checked in at the airport.”

“It’s not that bad,” he murmurs, eyes crinkling at your touch. They flutter to a close when your hand slides to cup his face, thumb brushing the high of his cheekbone in gentle care. “The lighting just makes it seem worse for wear. I’m fine.”

“I beg to differ.” You slowly trail downwards, caressing the side of his neck with a pursed lip.

His pulse point thrummed nicely against your fingers, and a curious press elicited a low sigh from him. Unexpected, though the sound was music to your ears and had butterflies rampant in your stomach. A part of you wanted to hear more of the gravelly timbre that rarely made an appearance—you knew what needed to be done.

Picking up where you left off, more of your self-declared medical ramblings followed. “See here? Another symptom, such a fast pace surely isn’t for the faint of heart. Your apical pulse,” to which your fingertips lightly drag themselves towards, “can’t lie to me.”

Zayne is breathless by the time he formulates a response in sincerity. “How can we go about a treatment plan, then? It seems pretty serious.”

A slowed, purposeful pronunciation follows soon thereafter. “Doc-tor.”

Your heart skipped not one, but two beats—dangerous, surely, but it fell short in the face of Zayne’s steadfast compliance. He peers up at you, factually smitten and framed softly by the office lights blending the contours of his face. You raise your other hand to hold his fine face between them. Admiring, in awe of all that he was.

“There’s only one known treatment option, I’ll have you know.” Unable to hide your smile, you quickly add, “Might require mouth to mouth if things go south.”

Zayne’s pools of hazel flick to your upturned lips, before meeting your mischievous stare with a hint of his own.

“Is this truly scientifically proven, or did you come all this way just to kiss me?”

“Yes,” was all you offered to his question, before placing an airy kiss to his cupid’s bow.

A second found its way to the bridge of his nose, laid over the slight ridge you adore before another rested between his raised brows. His eyes flutter to a close when your lips gently pressed to his temple, stilling at the contact. Slowly, you leave a trail of love across his cheeks, pausing once you meet the corner of his mouth.

Your thumb brushes against his lower lip, smiling at the way he parts them so readily for you. His chin tilts in the direction of your touch, mouthing the chase. A flush of pink sinked into his skin, a perfect peach for you to sink your teeth into.

“Tell me,” you say softly. Your fingers curl underneath his chin, observing the lidded gaze that follows. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

A tender exhale pushes past those very lips. “Right here,” he quietly admits. Closing the distance until you were only a breath away, his eyes focused on the plush of your mouth. “Please, Doctor.”

The union was gentle and warm, a kiss so kind that the same sentiment blossomed in your chest. Traces of a sweetened coffee picked from the hospital’s cafeteria and warm amber from his collar consumed your senses.

Zayne held you closer, chest to his and enveloping in a tender embrace. His hands traced the curve of your back, following your spine to gently cradle your head. Just to keep you this close, he was restless—realizing that he needed this more than he thought. The smile that cracks through another kiss is a testament to it, sealed with a deep breath of contentment.

It was perfect, a moment in time where your thundering heartbeats were equally matched. The world was nothing but a witness to the seconds spent in meaningful lip-locking.

“Mmph,” you groan unceremoniously.

Something firm brushed against your brow, pulling you out of the sweet trance. The culprit looked back at you in its silver rimmed and glass glory, sliding down the bridge of Zayne’s nose.

“Hm?” He leans back, noticing your discomfort. “What’s the matter?”

You contemplate on telling him, partially distracted by the puff of his lower lip. It has a sheen of your affection, and you were sure you looked no different in his eyes.

“Your glasses are falling,” you admit. You reach for the frames, intending on pushing them back to the high of his nose.

Zayne pauses your wrist then, a warm mirth in his gaze. “These are in the way, are they not?” He guides your hand, allowing the glasses to depart from his face and settling it on his desk.

With or without the specs, he truly was handsome—the kind of beauty modeled in Greek busts, from the contours of his cheeks to the sharp angle of his brow bone. You’d have to thank his parents the next time you see them.

He sneaks in a kiss, no longer obscured by the barrier and face perfectly pressed to yours. “My Doctor seems to be distracted,” he comments, taking in your wandering gaze. A cool hand graces the crowd of your head, patting softly. “What are you planning this time?”

His touches brought you out of your daydreaming, and you nod. Hands settling on the curves of his shoulders, you slide them upwards with a murmur of, “I should check your apical pulse again.”

Your eyes wander to the space behind him, a stethoscope only a grab away. With some effort, you spare a hand to reach for it, rising from the chair to a degree.

Zayne noticeably stiffens at his newfound view—your chest in his face wasn’t something on his agenda for today. The breath in his throat hitches, recognizing your fragrance. Comforting and pleasant, a piece of home warmly enhanced by your skin.

By the time you successfully have the medical device in hand, you nearly drop it at the feeling of his nose digging into your chest.

“Zayne? You’re—mmh?!” His hands find their way to your midsection, holding you still as he inhales deeply. You only hear him hum between muffled fabric, and your mind dizzies at the heatwave the mere sound sends to your core.

He pulls back with a soft sigh, the peach of his skin notably deepened to a soft rouge. Zayne guides you back to sit proper in his lap, reaching for the stethoscope in your surprised hand. Carefully, he places the ear tips into place for you and brushes your hair back in the process. Nonchalant, as if he didn’t spend the last waking moments happily buried in your chest.

“If you’re checking my pulse for me, I hope you’ve read the hospital’s code of conduct.” He drops his hands then, patiently awaiting your auscultation. In the reflection of his coy stare, you find that your own blush is faring far, far worse than his.

“Right, right. I did, trust me,” you say in confidence.

You, in fact, did no such thing. But memory of past appointments guides your hand over his heart, chest piece sliding around to count the beats. Not a single count was missed, all perfectly in place and accounted for.

Though, the only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat drumming. It didn’t help that his eyes were entirely focused on you, pointed with affection and observation alike.

“Well?” Zayne hums. “How does it sound?”

“You have a heart, and it’s beating alright.” Your conclusion was far from exemplary, but at least it was the truth.

“That’s a relief,” he laughs quietly. He gently removes the stethoscope, setting it aside. “Realistically, this isn’t how an auscultation works.”

“My methods are just special, that’s all.” You shrug, lightly patting the space that protects the aforementioned organ. “But you seem to be feeling better, and that’s all that matters to me.”

“Mhm.” Zayne presses a kiss to your nose, and offers his gratitude. “Thank you, Doctor. I don’t know what I would do without your care.”

752 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 9 months ago

Text

Urban Hearts, Rural Souls

"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"

— Synopsis: Where you are a Rich Girl abruptly sent to the countryside by your worried parents, there, you meet Mingyu, the farmer's son, who introduces you to something that defies the shallow trappings of city living. — WC: 10.6k — WARNINGS: Smut, angst, fluff, oral (f. and m. receiving), intense sex, crying, dirty talk, cum eating, g'spot stimulation, wet pussy and etc. — Reader! Rich Spoiled Girl X Farmer! Mingyu

Wrapped in designer clothes from head to toe, strutting around in those expensive heels like you owned the world. And maybe you did, in a way. You were the kind of girl who had it all – overpriced clothes hanging in your closet like trophies, expensive cars parked in the driveway like shiny jewels, and a life filled to the brim with luxury. Your every whim was catered to, your desires instantly fulfilled with the swipe of a credit card.

But behind all the glitz and glamour, there was a gnawing emptiness that even the shiniest baubles couldn't fill. Your parents, bless their worried hearts, watched from the sidelines, knowing they had a hand in creating this materialistic monster. They'd given you everything you ever wanted, but maybe they didn't realize they were also giving you a one-way ticket to blindness.

You were always craving the next big thing, the newest gadget, the trendiest outfit. But in your quest for more, you lost sight of what truly mattered. Genuine connections, simple pleasures, the beauty of a sunset—those things seemed to fade into the background against the allure of luxury.

Your parents, busy with their own pursuits of wealth and success, rarely saw you at home. They provided you with everything money could buy, but as time passed, they began to realize that they had unwittingly traded your presence for material possessions.

"Sorry, I can't go to this dinner, I already promised my friend that I would club with her tonight," you said, leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

"Sorry, I'm going shopping today," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror, leaving and closing the door again.

"Sorry, I'm going to hang out with Jisoo today," you said, once more leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.

Your parents tried to intervene, gently nudging you towards a more meaningful existence. But you brushed off their concerns, too wrapped up in your own world of excess to see the wisdom in their words. After all, why settle for less when you could have it all?

Yet, deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe there was more to life than the next shopping spree or exclusive event. Maybe true happiness wasn't found in the gleam of a diamond or the purr of a sports car engine.

There you were, lounging by the pool with your phone in hand, completely engrossed in the digital medias. The sun beat down, casting shimmering reflections on the water's surface as you scrolled and tapped away, oblivious to everything else around you.

Suddenly, your mom emerged from the doorway, her expression serious yet gentle as she made her way towards you. She called out your name, her voice cutting through the haze of your screen-induced trance. With a sigh, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from your phone, realizing that this was no ordinary interruption.

She explained that it was time for a chat, a real one, away from the distractions of social media and status updates. You hesitated for a moment.

Eventually, you acquiesced, dragging yourself out of the pool and wrapping a robe around your damp skin. As you followed your mom back into the house, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled in the pit of your stomach.

You found your parents sitting at the dining table, their expressions unusually serious. With a nonchalant air, you plopped down in front of them, taking a leisurely sip of your juice.

Your dad cleared his throat, his tone carrying a weight of concern. "Sweetheart, we need to talk. Your mom and I have been growing increasingly worried about you."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go again, you thought, another lecture about how you only cared about material things.

Your mom chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "We know you might not like what we have to say, but we truly believe it's for the best."

You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the worst. "Let me guess, you're cutting off my credit cards?"

Your dad let out a humorless scoff. "As tempting as that may sound, no. But we have decided that it's time for you to take a break from this lifestyle. You need to step back and reassess what truly matters in life."

You couldn't help but scoff, the corners of your mouth twisting into a mocking smile. "Let me guess, you're sending me to some remote island resort to 'find myself'?"

Your parents exchanged a glance before your dad spoke again, his tone grave. "Actually, we've arranged for you to spend some time in the countryside. In the home of some dear friends of ours. It'll be a chance for you to unwind, disconnect, and maybe gain some perspective."

You leaned back in your chair, disbelief written all over your face. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously sending me to some rustic farm in the middle of nowhere?"

But as you looked into their unwavering gazes, you realized they weren't joking. They were dead serious about this. And suddenly, the prospect of trading designer labels for mud-stained boots didn't seem so far-fetched after all.

Your dad's words hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait, you're telling me you didn't even mention this earlier?" you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. "This has to be some kind of joke, right? You can tell me now."

But before your dad could respond, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. As he answered, you stood there dumbfounded, watching him hurriedly talk to the person on the other end.

"Oh hello, yes yes, she's traveling today. She's getting ready. Thank you so much, Mr. Kim," your dad said into the phone before hanging up.

You felt a rush of panic as reality set in. They were serious. You were really being whisked away to some countryside retreat without so much as a warning.

Rushing to your room, you flung open your largest suitcase, hastily stuffing it with your best clothes, your mind still reeling from the sudden turn of events. Designer dresses and high heels made way for practical boots and sturdy jackets, a stark departure from your usual wardrobe.

You barely had time to indulge in one last comforting soak in your oversized tub before the reality of the situation hit you like a splash of cold water. Sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your suitcase stood by your side like a silent sentinel.

Despite your indignation and discomfort with the whole situation, you knew deep down that your parents only wanted what was best for you. But seriously, how did they think this was a good idea? Just the thought of mosquitoes made you shiver involuntarily.

As you heard the honk from the driveway, you begrudgingly grabbed your suitcase and followed your parents to the door. Stepping outside, you were met with a man who greeted you with a warm smile, remarking on how much you had grown. He was the friend of your father, the same one you had seen in old family photos.

Despite your lingering resentment, you treated him with the utmost politeness. After all, he was just following your parents' instructions, and he seemed genuinely kind.

Your parents bid you farewell, their seriousness about the whole ordeal evident in their expressions. But before you could climb into the car, your mom stopped you, snatching your phone from your hands. You scoffed incredulously, "What, no phone too?"

She simply nodded, stating matter-of-factly, "There's no internet anyway."

With a frustrated sigh, you allowed yourself to be pushed into the car, the middle-aged man already taking your suitcase and stowing it in the trunk. As the car pulled away from the driveway, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of wilderness adventure awaited you in the countryside.

As the car rolled along the winding countryside roads, Mr. Kim struck up a conversation with you, perhaps sensing your unease.

"So, your parents tell me you're not too thrilled about this little getaway," he began, his tone light and friendly.

You glanced at him, unsure of how much to reveal. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm more of a city person, you know? This whole countryside thing isn't really my scene."

He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I figured as much. But hey, sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit, right? You might find you enjoy it more than you think."

You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I highly doubt that."

Undeterred, he continued, asking you about your life in the city, your favorite hangouts, and the luxuries you were accustomed to. With each response, he laughed, seemingly amused by the stark contrast between your world and the one you were about to enter.

"You know," he said with a grin, "sometimes it's the unexpected experiences that end up being the most memorable. Who knows, you might discover a whole new side of yourself out here."

As the car rumbled along the road for what felt like hours, the familiar hum of the city fading into the distance, you watched as the asphalt gradually transformed into a dusty dirt road. The scenery changed from towering skyscrapers to vast expanses of green fields and rolling hills.

Finally, the car came to a stop, and the man turned to you with a smile. "Well, we're here," he announced cheerfully.

You peered out the window, taking in your surroundings. Before you stretched acres of farmland, dotted with quaint wooden buildings and surrounded by lush vegetation.

This was certainly a far cry from the luxury hotels and high-rise penthouses you were accustomed to, but there was a certain allure to its simplicity that intrigued you.

Mr. Kim gets out of the car, saying he's going to ask for help with your suitcases, and disappears into the house.

Stepping out of the car that had transported you from the city to the countryside, with a disdainful glance around, you smoothed down your summer dress and adjusted your sunglasses, attempting to shield yourself from the glaring sun.

Just as you were about to take a step forward, your designer boots caught on a loose cobblestone, and you stumbled clumsily, arms flailing wildly as you tried to regain your balance.

With a loud yelp, you crashed ungracefully into a pile of hay, your dress now adorned with specks of dirt and straw. Uttering a few curses under your breath, you began to clean yourself off, feeling thoroughly irritated by the whole debacle.

To your surprise, you heard a sincere laugh echoing from somewhere nearby. "Smooth entrance." came the amused voice.

Startled, you looked up to see a tall, muscular guy leaning against the porch, clad in a simple white tank top and worn jeans. He had the rugged look of someone who spent their days working the land, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at his false amused expression.

"Very funny," you muttered, shooting him a withering glare as you brushed off the last of the hay from your dress.

The guy smirked at your retort, "Hey, don't blame me for your lack of grace," he teased, stepping closer to you.

You crossed your arms defensively, shooting back, "Well, don't blame me for your lack of fashion sense."

He chuckled, unfazed by your jab. "Fashion sense? Please. I'd take practicality over designer labels any day."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Easy for you to say when you probably haven't stepped foot in a city in years."

His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, challenging you. "And what's wrong with that? Country life has its perks, you know. Fresh air, wide open spaces... not to mention, real food."

You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of defiance. "Oh, please. I'll take a five-star restaurant over your farm-to-table nonsense any day."

With a shrug, he flashed you a knowing grin. "We'll see about that."

He furrows his eyebrows as he reaches for your suitcases, grunting slightly as he lifts them from the ground. "What the hell are you packing in here, bricks?" he mutters, struggling slightly under the weight.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. With his broad shoulders and muscular arms, it was obvious he could easily handle the weight. But instead, he seemed intent on putting on a show of struggle.

As he hoisted the suitcases up, you glanced at his impressive physique, a stark contrast to your own slender frame. "Oh, I don't know," you replied casually, masking your amusement. "Maybe you're just not as strong as you think you are."

His expression darkened at your taunt, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he begrudgingly followed you towards the house. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance.

You couldn't resist a small smirk as you walked ahead, enjoying the satisfaction of getting the last word in.

As you approach the quaint farmhouse, nestled amidst the serene countryside, you're greeted by a picturesque scene straight out of a storybook. Lush greenery and vibrant foliage surround the charming abode, a small porch extends from the front of the house, its weathered floorboards worn smooth by years of use, a few well-worn rocking chairs moving with the breeze.

You glanced around the bedroom, taking note of the meticulously prepared bed with towels neatly arranged on top. Despite your initial skepticism, it was clear that some effort had been put into making you feel welcome.

Mingyu stood beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched your reaction. For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension.

Just then, Mr. Kim appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on his face. "Ah, I see you've met my son, Mingyu," he said, placing a hand on Mingyu's shoulder. "He'll be helping out around here during your stay."

Mingyu flashed you a half-hearted smile, his expression tinged with a hint of mockery. "Yeah, we had the great pleasure of meeting earlier," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh yes, it was truly unforgettable," you replied, matching his mocking tone. "I especially enjoyed the part where I ended up covered in hay."

Mr. Kim chuckled at the banter between you and his son, clearly amused by the exchange. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine," he said with a knowing smile, before leaving you to settle in.

Feeling a bit lost and unsure of what to do with yourself, you decided to head back to the living room. As you entered, you spotted Mingyu in the kitchen, busy mixing something on the stove, while a woman arranged antique stamped dishes on the table.

Her warm smile drew your attention, and you couldn't help but admire her grace as she went about her tasks. When she noticed your presence, she immediately set aside her cooking apron and approached you, enveloping you in a tight hug.

You returned the gesture, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you in her embrace. She introduced herself as Mrs. Kim, and her genuine compliment about your appearance made you blush, a shy smile tugging at your lips.

Before you could respond, you caught Mingyu's glance from across the room. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away, returning his focus to the task at hand.

Feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected attention, you cleared your throat and glanced around the room, searching for something to say. "Thank you, Mrs. Kim"

Ah, but you missed your 16-seat table. Your silvered forks and knives…

She beamed at your words, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Just a simple meal to welcome you to our home," she said warmly, patting your arm affectionately.

Despite your initial frustration and discomfort with the abrupt change in scenery and the unfamiliar accents surrounding you, you couldn't deny the genuine warmth and hospitality of the Kims. As you observed Mrs. Kim bustling around the kitchen and Mingyu's earnest efforts to make you feel welcome, a sense of guilt began to gnaw at you.

As Mrs. Kim served you a plate of food, you couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the array of dishes laid out before you. Unsure of what to pick, you glanced around nervously, feeling the weight of everyone's expectant gazes upon you.

Taking a tentative first bite, the food was simple yet bursting with deliciousness, each bite infused with a warmth and comfort that you hadn't realized you were craving.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you savored the food, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Wow, this is really good," you exclaimed, unable to hide your delight.

The Kims exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening at your enthusiastic reaction. It was clear that they were pleased to see you enjoying their home-cooked meal.

As you continued to eat, you found yourself digging in with gusto, savoring every bite as if it were the most delicious thing you had ever tasted. It was a stark contrast to the fast food and gourmet dishes you were accustomed to in the city, and yet, there was something undeniably special about this homemade meal made with love.

Mingyu and his dad shared subtle, satisfied smiles, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they watched you devouring the food with such enthusiasm. It was clear that they were pleased to see you embracing their culinary traditions and finding joy in the simple pleasures, for the first time?

As you rolled up your sleeves and began to help with the dishes, Mingyu appeared at your side with a teasing smirk. "Well, I'm surprised to see you know how to wash a plate," he remarked, his tone laced with playful incredulity.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful jab. "Oh, please. It's not like I've never washed a dish before," you retorted, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

Mingyu chuckled at your defensive tone, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just surprised, is all. Figured someone with nails as pristine as yours would be afraid to get them dirty," he teased, gesturing to your perfectly manicured hands.

You shot him a pointed look, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. "My nails will be just fine, thank you very much." you replied curtly.

After finishing up with the dishes, you managed to steal a quiet moment for yourself. Making your way to the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there was hot water available, despite being in the midst of a countryside farm. And as you drifted off to sleep, the sound of crickets chirping outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

As the sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you slowly stirred from your sleep, feeling more refreshed than you had in ages. The sound of a rooster crowing in the distance filled the air, a gentle reminder that you were far from the hustle and bustle of city life.

Just as you were about to stretch, you heard a familiar voice at your door. Groaning inwardly, you sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you focused on the figure standing in the doorway.

There stood Mingyu, holding a pair of buckets in his hands. "Hey, sleepyhead," he called out, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a cow to milk."

You blinked in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the request. Milk a cow? Surely he must be joking. But as you glanced out the window and saw the sun rising higher in the sky, and the way he stood at the door, you realized that he was serious.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the unfamiliar task ahead.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Mingyu's teasing remark as he caressed the cow with practiced ease. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd take precautions after yesterday's little incident," you retorted, gesturing to your brightly colored galoshes.

Mingyu chuckled at your response, shaking his head in amusement. "Fair enough," he conceded, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "But I've got to admit, you look a bit out of place here on the farm."

You huffed indignantly, feeling a pang of annoyance at his comment. "And what exactly am I supposed to look like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. "Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles?"

Mingyu's laughter rang out loud and clear, the sound echoing through the barn as he shook his head incredulously. "Hey, I'm just saying, those boots aren't exactly farm chic," he replied, unable to hide his amusement.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. As Mingyu nodded towards the bucket under the cow and the small stool nearby, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead.

As you continued to milk the cow with gentle, tentative strokes, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your cautious approach. "If you keep going at this pace, we'll be here until evening," he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

You couldn't help but sulk at his teasing, feeling a pang of self-doubt creeping in. "I'm just afraid of hurting her," you admitted softly, glancing down at the cow's udders with concern.

Mingyu rolled his eyes playfully, squatting down behind you and gently taking your hands in his. "Here, let me show you," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided your movements.

As his warm hands enveloped yours, you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you, you couldn't help but be drawn to the way his chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered instructions. Lost in the sensation of his touch, you found yourself forgetting about the task at hand, your focus shifting entirely to him.

"See? It's not so hard, is it?" Mingyu's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone gentle and encouraging.

Oh, it sure is, with those arms around you.

You nodded slowly, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected closeness between you. "Yeah, I guess not."

As you watched the chickens with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to find the words to express your uncertainty.

Noticing your hesitation, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your predicament. "Looks like it's time to collect some eggs," he remarked, gesturing towards the coop with a smirk.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the task ahead and stepped into the coop, determined to prove that you were capable of handling farm chores. But as soon as you entered, the chickens seemed to sense your unease and began to peck at your legs and feet, their sharp beaks causing you to yelp in surprise.

Jumping back in alarm, you flailed your arms wildly, trying to fend off the feathery assailants as Mingyu looked on, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, that's one way to get the eggs," he quipped, unable to suppress his laughter at your antics.

Feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed, you quickly retreated from the coop, shooting Mingyu a sheepish look. "I think I'll leave the egg collecting to the experts," you muttered, feeling defeated.

Mingyu grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched you dust yourself off. "Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of it," he teased, reaching for the basket and heading towards the coop with a knowing smirk.

Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of you sprawled out on the sofa, your face flushed from the sun and your body looking utterly exhausted. His mom joined in with a soft giggle, amused by your worn-out appearance.

"Looks like someone had quite the day," Mingyu remarked with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed you from across the room.

You let out a tired groan, your limbs feeling heavy and your muscles aching from the day's activities. "I feel like I've run a marathon," you admitted with a weary smile, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.

Mingyu's mom nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with warmth and affection as she looked at you. "It takes some getting used to, but you'll adjust," she reassured you, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Mingyu flashed you a reassuring smile, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. "Yeah, you'll get used to it," he echoed, his voice soft and reassuring.

As you lay on the sofa, your mind drifted to thoughts of your friends back in the city. You could already imagine their laughter and teasing when they heard about your countryside misadventures.

The image of them laughing at the idea of you "touching cow's tits" made you cringe, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of being the subject of their jokes. And the mental image of you being chased by chickens while wearing bright yellow galoshes instead of your usual designer boots was almost too much to bear.

As you stood face to face with the towering horse, a surge of determination coursed through you. You were determined to prove to Mingyu that you were capable of handling any challenge that came your way, no matter how unfamiliar or daunting.

With a defiant glare, you met Mingyu's gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the challenge before you. "Did you know that horseback riding is expensive enough for me to know?" you retorted, your voice laced with confidence.

Mingyu raised an eyebrow at your defiant remark, his hands on his hips as he regarded you with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Is this a dare?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.

You smirked, your eyes gleaming with determination. "It's not a dare if I'm going to win," you replied boldly, your confidence unwavering.

Mingyu chuckled at your bravado, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, we'll see about that," he replied with a smirk of his own. "But I'll have you know, a farmer can ride way better than a rich girly who did hipstism."

As you settled into the saddle and urged the horse forward, you felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. With each powerful stride of the horse beneath you, you felt a sense of connection and freedom unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Glancing back at Mingyu, who was hot on your heels, you couldn't help but smirk at the competitive gleam in his eye. With a determined flick of the reins, you urged your horse to pick up the pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across the long field.

Feeling the rhythm of the horse's movements beneath you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you rode faster and faster, the thrill of the chase driving you forward.

But as you approached the towering mount of straw ahead, Mingyu's voice rang out behind you, announcing the end of the race. "This is it!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the wind.

You turned to face him with a confident smile, your eyes sparkling with determination. "Bet," you replied, your voice filled with certainty as you prepared to take on the challenge ahead.

s you crossed the finish line first, a victorious grin spread across your face. You patted the horse affectionately, thanking it for its speed and cooperation, a playful twinkle in your eye as if expecting a response from the animal.

Mingyu appeared right behind you, his expression a mixture of surprise and begrudging admiration. He glanced at you, clearly not wanting to give the impression that he was impressed, but failing miserably.

You couldn't help but laugh at his unsuccessfully concealed expression, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Looks like I win," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to gloat a little.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Beginner's luck," he muttered, trying to brush off his defeat with a nonchalant shrug.

But you could see through his facade, and you knew that deep down, he was impressed by your riding skills. "Sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied with a playful wink, reveling in your victory.

As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu and his parents couldn't help but notice a change in you. At first, they were surprised by your transformation. They had expected you to grow restless and bored, eager to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, they watched in awe as you flourished in your new surroundings.

While you may have initially viewed your newfound chores as a means to an end, a way to expedite your return to the comforts of home, you couldn't deny the genuine joy and fulfillment you experienced in caring for the animals and immersing yourself in farm activities.

With each passing day, as you spent more time in the stable and the fields, you discovered a sense of peace and contentment that you had never known before.

Whenever Mingyu's parents were away in the center of the countryside, Mingyu took it upon himself to keep you entertained and engaged, determined to show you the lighter side of farm life and ensure that you didn't find the countryside boring.

Sometimes, he would teach you how to fish in the nearby stream, laughing as you fumbled with the bait and giggling as you shrieked with delight whenever you felt a tug on the line. From impromptu horseback races across the fields to makeshift picnics under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Mingyu made sure that there was never a dull moment when you were together.

As the rain poured down outside, Mingyu looked at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Hey, since we're stuck inside anyway, how about we play a game of hide and seek?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at his suggestion. Hide and seek? Wasn't that a game for children? You hadn't played it in years, not since you were a kid back in the city.

"But isn't that game a bit... childish?" you asked, your tone laced with skepticism. After all, hide and seek seemed like such a simple and silly game, hardly befitting someone of your age and sophistication.

Mingyu laughed at your hesitation, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it's not like we have anything else to do while we're stuck inside," he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to indulge in such a childish pastime. But as you glanced out the window at the dreary weather outside, you couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity and excitement at the prospect of a little indoor adventure.

With a reluctant smile, you finally relented, nodding your head in agreement. "Alright, fine. But you owe me if I end up getting bored," you teased, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.

Mingyu grinned at your acceptance, his eyes alight with excitement. "Deal," he replied.

As Mingyu's voice counted down from ten, you dashed around the house, your heart racing with excitement as you searched for the perfect hiding spot. His laughter echoed through the halls as he called out the numbers, his anticipation building with each passing moment.

Finally, you found it—a small space between the wardrobe and the wall in your room. It seemed like the perfect hiding spot, tucked away from sight with just enough room for you to squeeze into. With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching, you darted into the hiding place and pressed your back against the wall, your heart pounding with excitement.

As you waited in the darkness, the sound of Mingyu's footsteps grew closer, his laughter echoing through the room as he searched for you. You held your breath, trying to stifle the giggles threatening to escape as his footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

Suddenly, you heard a soft gasp as Mingyu's hand brushed against the wardrobe, his fingers grazing the edge of your hiding spot. Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, hoping he wouldn't find you.

As Mingyu's hand brushed against your shoulder and his fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you out of your hiding place, you couldn't help but let out a startled gasp as your body collided with his. His laughter filled the room, echoing in the darkness, but you couldn't find it in you to join in.

"Sulking again, huh?" Mingyu teased, his voice warm and playful as he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close.

You rolled your eyes in response, trying to hide the smile that threatened to tug at your lips despite your best efforts to maintain your facade of annoyance. "I don't sulk," you protested weakly, but even to your own ears, the protest sounded half-hearted.

Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room as he held you close. "Sure you don't," he replied, his tone teasing but affectionate.

Suddenly, you felt his hands on your face, his fingers tracing your features with a gentle touch that made your heart race. In the darkness, his touch seemed to intensify, his caress becoming more intimate as he explored the contours of your face with a tenderness that took your breath away.

As Mingyu's lips met yours, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as you melted into his embrace. His lips were soft and warm against yours, sending a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins as he pressed your back against the wardrobe, his hand pulling you closer by your waist.

With a soft moan, you found yourself responding eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Mingyu groaned against your lips, the sound sending a shiver of pleasure down your cunt as his tongue danced with yours.

As Mingyu's lips trailed down to your neck, igniting a trail of fire with each kiss, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"M-Mingyu…"

"I can feel how much you want me," he continued, his voice low and seductive. "You're practically melting against me, begging for my touch."

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matched your own. As he pressed his body against yours, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his desire burning bright in the darkness.

As his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple through your top, you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of pleasure, the sensation sending waves of heat coursing through you.

Feeling your reaction, Mingyu hissed in response, his desire evident in the husky tone of his voice. "I need to see you," he murmured urgently, his hands moving to lift your top, his fingers tracing the contours of your body in the darkness. "This darkness isn't helping."

With a nod of understanding, you waited patiently as he disappeared into the darkness, the anticipation building with each passing moment. And then, just as suddenly as he had left, he reappeared with two lanterns, the warm glow casting a soft light over the room.

And there you were, already naked and sitting on the bed, your body bathed in the soft light of the lanterns. Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he took in the sight before him.

"You're naughty," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he approached you slowly. The warmth of the lanterns illuminated every curve and contour of your body, casting a mesmerizing glow that left him spellbound.

As the room filled with light, you couldn't help but catch your breath at the sight of Mingyu standing before you, his features illuminated in the golden glow of the lanterns. His eyes burned with desire as he looked at you, his gaze traveling over your body with hunger and longing.

With a soft smile, he stepped closer, the warmth of the lanterns enveloping you both. "Now I can see every inch of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

s Mingyu's hands deftly removed his shirt, tossing it aside with a casual flick of his wrist, your eyes were drawn to the sight of his toned, muscular body illuminated by the warm glow of the lanterns. His hard work and dedication were evident in the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, sending a shiver of desire coursing through you.

Instinctively, your legs pressed together, the heat pooling between them as you felt the unmistakable arousal building within you. Mingyu's presence was intoxicating, his sheer physicality leaving you breathless and eager for more.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, you reached out to him, your hands tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen with a hungry urgency. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his muscles firm and taut as you explored every inch of him with a sense of wonder and reverence.

As your fingers trailed lower, tracing the outline of his hardened arousal, a low groan escaped Mingyu's lips, his desire mirroring your own.

As you untangled his belt and lowered his jeans, your desperation was palpable, your need for him evident in every movement. Mingyu watched you with a knowing smile, his lip caught between his teeth as he observed your eagerness.

With a sense of anticipation building between you, you got down on your knees before him, your eyes pleading as you lowered his underwear, revealing his thick, pulsing cock. It lay heavy on your face, the weight of it sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you.

Mingyu's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his desire growing with each passing moment. "That's it, baby," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you want it."

With a slow, provocative motion, you began to suck on the tip of his cock, teasing him with your tongue as you savored the taste of him on your lips. Mingyu groaned in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair as he urged you on.

But then, with a sudden shift in his demeanor, Mingyu's voice took on a commanding tone. "Enough teasing," he growled, his gaze dark with desire. "I want you to suck it, all of it. Show me how good you can make me feel."

As you obediently lowered your head, taking all of Mingyu's length into your mouth, you could feel him groaning in pleasure above you. His hands tightened in your hair, gripping it firmly as if he were holding onto reins, his fingers wrapping around your locks like a lasso.

With each deep thrust, he urged you on, his voice thick with desire as he commanded you to take him deeper. "That's it," he moaned, the sound reverberating through your body as you continued to obey his every whim. "Just like that, baby, all the way in."

As you relaxed your jaw, allowing Mingyu's thick cock to press against the back of your throat, a wave of pleasure surged through him, causing his knees to falter for a moment. But you remained steadfast, your determination unwavering as you held your breath and took him deeper, allowing him to penetrate you fully.

Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure, his hips bucking involuntarily as he was overcome by the intense sensation of your throat enveloping him. The feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him completely sent waves of ecstasy coursing through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

With each deep thrust, he felt himself losing control, his desire mounting to dizzying heights as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. And as you continued to take him deeper, your throat accommodating his girth with ease, he knew that he was on the brink of an explosion unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

As Mingyu pulled on the lasso of your hair, halting just before he reached his climax, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with need. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, spreading your legs apart as he positioned himself between them. Your ass lifted off the bed, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you waited for his next move.

With a hungry look in his eyes, Mingyu dropped to his knees before you, his tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe along your slit. A moan escaped your lips as pleasure shot through you, your body arching off the bed in response. "Mmm... yes," you murmured, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to lap at your pussy with fervent eagerness.

Mingyu cooed softly as he tasted you, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness with a skillful precision that left you dizzy with pleasure. "You taste so good," he whispered, his voice low and husky as he lavished attention on your sensitive folds.

As Mingyu sucked on your clit, bobbing his head with a fervent eagerness that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation overwhelming you completely. "Ohh... yesss," you cried out, your voice filled with unrestrained passion as he worked his magic on you.

He held back a smirk as he felt your cunt throbbing with the approach of your orgasm, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. With a wicked grin, he doubled down on his efforts, sucking your whole pussy hard, his tongue lapping at your juices with an insatiable hunger.

The intensity of his ministrations pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you with a force that left you breathless. Mingyu smiled triumphantly as he felt you come embarrassingly fast, your moans filling the room with the sweet sound of your pleasure.

As Mingyu laid you down properly on the bed, he gazed into your eyes with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and husky as he asked how much you wanted him to fuck you, and you could barely think straight, your mind clouded with desire.

With your orgasm still pulsing through your body, you almost drunkenly replied that you wanted him a lot, your words slurred with pleasure. Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he heard your response, his eyes smoldering with lust as he leaned in closer.

"And how much do you want this farmer to fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased you with his words. The hint of his country accent sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your body quivering with need.

You rolled your hips instinctively, searching for his cock, your movements desperate and needy. Mingyu chuckled softly at your eagerness, his hands roaming over your body possessively as he continued to taunt you with his dirty talk.

With a whimper of desire, you opened your mouth in an "o" of longing, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to feel him deep inside you. "A lot," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want it... a lot... please..."

Mingyu's cock lay heavy against your belly, the sight of it making your breath catch in your throat. He looked at you with a wicked grin, his eyes burning with desire as he teased you with the promise of what was to come.

"Do you want my cock right here?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Inside of this pretty little pussy of yours?"

You could only nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as you gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes. "Yes," you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely above a moan. "Please, Mingyu... I need it... I need you inside me..."

Mingyu's grin widened at your response, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he positioned himself between your legs, ready to claim you as his own. With a primal growl, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely with his throbbing cock as you cried out in ecstasy.

As Mingyu kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, you cried out in pleasure, feeling your pussy clenching tighter around his throbbing cock with each thrust. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling every ridge and muscle beneath his skin as he moved with a primal intensity that drove you wild with desire.

Suddenly, he took his cock out and pushed back inside you with all his force, causing your head to be thrown back in ecstasy. The sensation of him filling you so completely, stretching you to your limits, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.

Mingyu's gaze locked with yours, his eyes boring into your soul as tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. He leaned in close, his voice low and husky as he whispered filthy words that sent shivers down your spine.

"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to pound into you with relentless force. "You like feeling my cock splitting you in half, don't you, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your pussy clenching tightly around him at his words, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you. Mingyu stuttered for a moment, surprised by the intensity of your reaction, before letting out a low chuckle.

You shook your head vehemently, your legs trembling around his waist as you cried out in pleasure. "No," you screamed, the word torn from your lips in a primal moan. "They don't... ah!"

Mingyu grinned triumphantly at your response, his own pleasure mounting to dizzying heights as he continued to drive you wild with desire. With each powerful thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, determined to show you just how good it could be with a real man like him.

As Mingyu's cock pounded into you relentlessly, a white ring formed around his shaft, evidence of your overwhelming arousal. He looked down at you with a smirk, his voice low and husky as he taunted you with his words.

"Can you hear how wet you are, baby?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in closer. "You're practically dripping for me."

You blushed furiously at his words, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you at the realization of just how turned on you were. But despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, driving you to new heights of ecstasy with each thrust.

You bit your lip nervously, unable to form a coherent response as Mingyu's cock continued to pound into you with relentless determination. Your back arched involuntarily, your body betraying you with its desperate need for more.

Mingyu's hips plunged deep into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you jolted, desperately reaching for his hand. He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with amusement as he teased you mercilessly.

"Oh, looks like I found it," he taunted, his thrusts growing harder and more relentless with each passing moment. "Right here... and here again. Is this where you want me, baby?"

You could only whimper in response, your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. "I-I'm going to cum," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as your orgasm approached with dizzying speed.

Mingyu's hand tightened around yours, providing you with an anchor to hold onto as he continued to pound into you with an intensity that left you breathless. His hips worked deep against your G-spot, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with desire as he urged you on. "I want to feel you cumming around me."

As Mingyu noticed the way you tensed hard and squeezed his hand tightly, he could feel the intensity building within you. "You're going to cum so hard for me, baby"

And then, as if on cue, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of the orgasm that tore through you. Mingyu watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, your screams filling the room as you lost yourself completely to the pleasure.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire as he drank in the sight of you, your body trembling with ecstasy as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He didn't want to blink, didn't want to miss a single moment of the beautiful sight before him.

As your body finally relaxed, Mingyu withdrew himself from your swollen, sopping cunt. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, feeling completely satisfied but still hungry for more.

"Did you cum?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation as you waited for his response.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment, but before he could answer, you cut him off with a mischievous grin, sticking your tongue out of your mouth playfully.

"Don't worry about that," he began, but you interrupted him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you pleaded with him to cum for you.

"Come on, Mingyu," you urged, your voice dripping with desire. "I want to see you cum. I want to taste you on my tongue."

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, but a wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how much you wanted him. With a low growl of desire, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered his response.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I like it. I like it a lot."

As Mingyu gently arranged your hair, he positioned himself so that his cock was within reach of your mouth. You eagerly complied, your saliva mixed with your own lubrication serving as the perfect medium for him to stroke his throbbing cock.

With his heavy tip resting on your tongue, you felt the anticipation building within you once again. Your lips parted as you watched him with hungry eyes, eager to taste him once more.

Mingyu groaned softly as he began to masturbate his cock, the sensation of your tongue and lips against his sensitive skin driving him crazy. With each stroke, he grew harder and thicker in your mouth, his arousal evident in the way his cock throbbed against your tongue.

You moaned softly around him, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body as he continued to pleasure himself with your eager mouth. And as his release approached, Mingyu's movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he edged closer and closer to the brink.

Finally, with a low growl of pleasure, Mingyu reached the point of no return, his cock pulsating as he spilled his hot cum onto your waiting tongue. You eagerly swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

"I'm feeling so good," you murmur, a contented smile gracing your lips as you lay beside Mingyu.

"Do you?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with tenderness as he gazes at you.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his gentle touch. Mingyu brushes your hair away from your face, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin as he lays on his side, his eyes fixed on you with a look of adoration.

"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze. "I feel amazing."

Mingyu smiles, his expression filled with affection as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The atmosphere feels incredibly comfortable, more intimate and peaceful than ever before.

You blinked, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you slowly roused from sleep, only to find yourself alone in bed. The warmth of Mingyu's big body, which had been so comforting throughout the night, was noticeably absent, leaving you with a sense of emptiness.

As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a dream. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, the door swung open, and there stood Mingyu, shirtless and wearing only jeans, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

He flashed you a warm smile as he entered the room, the sight of him banishing any lingering doubts from your mind. "Good morning," he greeted you, his voice soft and filled with affection.

"Good morning," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him approach. The sight of him, shirtless and bearing breakfast, made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you at the sight of him.

Mingyu set the tray down on the bedside table before climbing back into bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you once more. As you sat together, enjoying breakfast in each other's company.

In the middle of the afternoon, you was alone in your bedroom, Mrs. Kim appears with her phone, it was your parents, wanting to talk to you. You take the phone from Mrs. Kim with trembling hands, your heart racing with anticipation as you retreat to a secluded corner of the house. With bated breath, you answer the call, hoping against hope that it's your parents finally coming to rescue you from this unfamiliar place.

"Hello?" you say tentatively, the sound of your own voice echoing in your ears.

On the other end of the line, you hear your mother's voice, filled with concern and urgency. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asks, her tone fraught with worry.

You feel a surge of relief wash over you at the sound of her familiar voice. "Mom, it's me," you reply quickly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "I'm okay, but I really want to come home. Can you please come get me? I need to tell you something…"

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before your mother responds, her voice heavy with regret. "Honey, I'm sorry, but we can't come get you right now," she says, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "We need you to stay there for a little while longer."

Your heart sinks at her words, the sense of disappointment threatening to overwhelm you. "But why?" you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. "I don't understand."

Before you can say anything else, you hear a click on the other end of the line, signaling that the call has ended. With a heavy heart, you lower the phone from your ear and turn around, only to find Mingyu standing there, his expression hardened and unreadable.

You swallow hard, feeling a sense of unease settle over you as you meet his gaze. "Mingyu, I..." you begin, but he cuts you off with a curt shake of his head before turning and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You ran after him, your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the countryside as you desperately called out his name. But Mingyu didn't turn to look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued walking towards the lagoon.

"Mingyu, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to catch up to him. "Listen to me."

He finally stopped walking, but he still didn't turn to face you. Instead, he spoke with a tone of resignation, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I understand now," he said quietly. "You were just using me to pass the time until you could go home."

Your heart sank at his words, the guilt weighing heavily on your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. "No, Mingyu, that's not true," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I... I care about you. What about yesterday? What we shared..."

But he cuts you off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yesterday was a mistake," he says, his words like a knife to your heart. "It doesn't change the fact that you were never really here for me. You were just biding your time until you could leave."

Your mouth hung open in shock as Mingyu's words sliced through you like a blade, leaving you reeling with hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his harsh accusations.

"That's mean!" you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I'm wrong, but you're being so mean right now!"

Mingyu's attention snapped back to you at the sound of your sobs, his heart clenching with regret as he watched the tears stream down your face. He hadn't meant to hurt you so deeply, but in his anger and frustration, his words had cut far deeper than he had intended.

For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of Mingyu's harsh judgment hanging heavy in the air. And then, finally, you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper.

"It was a mistake then?" you asked, your words barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

Mingyu hesitates, his own emotions swirling inside him as he struggles to find the right words. "No, it wasn't a mistake," he admits quietly, his gaze softening as he meets your tear-filled eyes. "Yesterday... what we shared... it meant something to me."

Your heart races as Mingyu's words sink in, a mix of hope and confusion swirling inside you. "Then why are you saying all of this?" you ask, your voice trembling with emotion. "If it meant something to you, then why..."

Mingyu cuts you off with a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggles to find the right words. "Because it's not going to work," he admits, his voice filled with resignation. "You're going back to your expensive bags and imported cars, and I'm going to be alone."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the realization of what he's saying sending a surge of pain through your chest. "But how can you be sure that I want to go home?" you protest, desperation creeping into your voice. "You didn't even heard the whole conversation. I need to go home, yes, but not because I want to leave you. I need to go home to tell my parents, my friends, that I want to stay here."

Mingyu's shoulders sag at your words, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes. "You want to stay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Yes," you say softly. "And do you know what made up my mind?"

Mingyu's gaze searches yours, waiting for your answer.

"You did," you admit, your voice barely a whisper as you meet his gaze. "You and this life... it made me feel something real. Something I've never felt before."

For a moment, there's a glimmer of understanding in Mingyu's eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could work out between you. He takes a step towards you, reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, your heart still raw from his earlier words.

"I'm hurt," you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. "And I need some time alone to figure things out."

With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Mingyu standing there, his gaze following you with a mixture of longing and regret. And as you disappear from view, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision... or if you've just made a terrible mistake.

Mingyu stands in the doorway, his expression pensive as he takes in the sight of you curled up on the bed, your breath trembling from your recent tears. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally taking a step into the room.

"I... I wanted to talk to you," he begins, his voice soft and hesitant. "I know things have been... difficult between us lately, and I just wanted to say..."

He pauses, struggling to find the right words as he searches your face for any sign of understanding. "When I first heard that a rich girl was coming to our farm, I'll admit, I had my doubts," he admits, his gaze dropping to the floor as he speaks. "I thought you would be like all the others – snobbish, entitled, looking down on us like we were beneath you."

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what comes next. "But you proved me wrong," he continues, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You learned everything we taught you, you got along with everyone, and... despite our bickering, you seemed so genuine."

Mingyu's words hang in the air, the weight of his apology lingering between you. He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding as he searches your face for any sign of forgiveness.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, for the things I've said. I was wrong to judge you based on where you come from, and... I hope you can forgive me."

There's a vulnerability in Mingyu's voice that tugs at your heartstrings, a sincerity that you can't ignore. You feel a lump form in your throat as you meet his gaze, seeing the regret and remorse etched in his features.

"I... I forgive you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you speak. "And... I'm sorry too. For the way I've acted, for... everything."

Mingyu's eyes soften at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "And... I hope we can start over. Put all this behind us and... move forward."

In the bustling city where love often feels like just another commodity, you found something rare and precious in the countryside with Mingyu – an intense and fast connection that seemed to defy all logic and expectation. It was as if you could parachute jump into this feeling without a second thought, without fear of falling.

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raekensluver · 4 months ago

Text

hearts aligned

description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.

pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader

contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair

song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"

w.c: 2.7k

an: *sob* i love him.

it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.

the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.

you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.

but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.

you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."

he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.

you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.

spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"

you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"

spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."

you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."

spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"

you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.

his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."

you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.

spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"

you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."

his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."

you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"

he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."

you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."

his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."

you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."

his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."

you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."

spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."

you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"

spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.

you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."

spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."

you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."

spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."

you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"

he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."

you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."

spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."

you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.

spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."

you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."

his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."

spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."

you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."

spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.

you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."

you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.

"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."

you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.

his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."

you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.

his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.

you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.

spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."

spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."

you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."

you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.

his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.

you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."

spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."

you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."

his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.

the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.

you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.

"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.

you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."

his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.

you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."

1K notes · View notes

planetsano · 1 year ago

Text

synopsis ⌒ ⭑⭒ (name)! (name)! what’s it like being a water girl for blue lock 11? being the sweetest little mascot the whole team wants to put their cock in?

warnings ⌒ ⭑⭒ female reader, gang bang, orgy, group sex, double penetration (same hole, vaginal sex), anal sex, spit, oral sex (giving and receiving), squirting, mlm sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, love triangle, pining, very girly hyperfeminine reader, aged up characters, pro au, mdni.

pairing(s) ⌒ ⭑⭒ rin itoshi x reader x isagi yoichi (main), blue lock 11 x reader pairings, various x pairings.

word count ⌒ ⭑⭒ 11.2k.

Being Blue Lock 11’s water girl was honest work.

How (Name) got the job honestly wasn’t because of any credentials or any kind of degree to further her chances, but instead, she had a pretty face and the personality of a golden retriever puppy which made it very easy for her to become sort of a “personality hire.” Ego knew it was a position that had to be filled but he didn’t want to do it himself. The trivial and petty details needed to be taken care of and that’s exactly what she handles. Water Girl is the official title but these days you’ve almost become more like a personal assistant to the team in various ways.

(Name) has come a very long way since her very first day. It’s not that she was bad at her job per se— but she’s clumsy and a little.. airheaded. (Name) would often do things like trip over her own feet and send the things she was holding flying into the air. The sweet thing couldn’t help it too much. How could she? She was nervous and wasn’t the athletic type, never was, and never will be.

Now it’s been about a year since then and she’s a bonafide professional! Or so she likes to say.

Her morning started the same as any other, with the soft chimes of her pastel-colored alarm clock gently pulling her from dreamland. Stretching like a content kitten, she hopped out of bed, excited to start her extensive morning routine. The first stop was her vanity table, adorned with all sorts of makeup and skincare products. She giddily picked up her favorite rose-scented cleanser and began washing her face, humming a cheerful tune to herself.

After the refreshing cleanse, she moved on to the rest of her skincare routine, carefully applying toner, serum, and moisturizer, all infused with the latest beauty trends— she’s been on his K-beauty kick recently. With a smile, she looked at her glowing reflection in the mirror, already feeling ready for the day. Next came the fun part— makeup. She typically liked experimenting with different looks, and today’s theme was soft and flirty, with a touch of shimmer.

(Name) meticulously applied foundation, blush, eyeshadow, and a winged eyeliner. As the finishing touch, she added a glossy, bubblegum-pink lipstick to complete her signature look. She already had what she was wearing planned— her favorite pair of high-waisted, blush pink leggings that hugged her curves just right and a matching sports bra completed with a white, knitted cropped sweater. Simple, comfortable, and cute. There wasn’t much else to it.

(Name) was soon grabbing her car keys, the cutest keychain from her collection dangling from the D-ring. Her tote bag was slung over one shoulder, filled with her daily essentials like lip gloss, a compact mirror, a cute notebook, and her iPad. She held a large basket in her arms filled with goodies for the team. (Name) practically spent all night preparing everything! She worked hard on these cupcakes too.. they better enjoy them!

She headed out the door, hauling everything to her vehicle. As she approached her car, she couldn’t help but smile at the glossy black paint and the adorable heart-shaped air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. It looked significantly better after the repair— but it wasn’t her fault! That pothole was in her way.

Despite all that, she loved her car! Even though she wasn’t much of a car girl to begin with— decorating made her feel like she was driving in her little wonderland. However, she still needed to call her dad when the mechanic was speaking in literal tongues every time she went in for an oil change.

After loading everything into her car, she made sure to bring a tumbler of her favorite homemade French vanilla iced coffee, a protein bar in case she got hungry, and a playlist of her favorite songs ready to accompany her on the ride. As she buckled up and turned on the engine, she couldn’t resist taking a moment to check herself in the rearview mirror. Lip gloss tended to make its way on other parts of her face— so cute but messy at times.

Upon getting there, she types in the code to gain access to the training facility. The electronic lock emits a soft beep, and the heavy metal door slowly hisses open. Stepping inside, the air is noticeably cooler and filled with a faint hum of machinery. Fluorescent lights line the corridor, casting a sterile glow on the metallic walls. She made her way down the halls to her “office.” It was just a locker somewhere tucked away near the staff’s office.

Ego used to be able to tolerate her in his office but he ended up getting her area because he just couldn’t handle the chatterbox she was and the playful antics that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. She was trouble and Ego was well aware. Her presence had a way of brightening up the most serious of situations and while some appreciated her for it, Ego found it a constant distraction. No matter how attractive she was.

Her locker was decorated with a collection of cute stickers, fairy lights, and a small potted plant. Fake, of course. She placed all her things in the space before heading to the team’s locker room. The automated light system turns on revealing rows of neatly arranged lockers, each placard with the team members’ names.

The hum of ventilation filled the air as she walked further in, her footsteps echoing off the polished tiles. The scent of fresh laundry and a hint of antiseptic cleaner lingered, creating a familiar and almost comforting atmosphere. She knew that within these walls, victories were celebrated and defeats were dissected. As she glanced around, memories of past games and silly stories flooded her mind, a small smile gracing her lips.

(Name) made her way through the rows of lockers, the soft, ambient light from the overhead fixtures casting gentle shadows. All boys got their small gift bag with items that were tailored to their personal preferences plus a cupcake she spent all night baking herself.

After that was all done, she grabbed the clipboard ornate with all sorts of cute stickers courtesy of her and notes scribbled on by the team with Blue Lock’s logo etched into the back. She went over the checklist for the day, as she stepped out of the locker room. It only took a few strides down the hallway to get to the equipment room, where a manicured finger grazed over assignment number one.

The first item on the list was to prepare the team’s water bottles. It usually consisted of making sure to fill their bottles with fresh, ice-cold water and lemon and then arrange them neatly in a cooler outside. Also filling up a “refill station” cooler that the team could use throughout practice.

It wouldn’t have been so much of a pain if it didn’t have been carried to the training field.

“Oh great.” She pouted softly. She had to do this all by herself? She can lift it but did she want to? No, her nails don’t have insurance. She looked at her Apple watch with furrowed brows, one of the early birds should be arriving soon...

“You need to stop leavin’ us this sugary shit all the time, princess,” Raichi says. He’s leaning up against the wide door frame, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the pink frosted cupcake up to his lips. Half of it is gone, clearly signaling he started devouring it on his way to the equipment room where she was.

“Jingo,” (Name) breathes out his name in a sugary and needy cadence— relief. Her voice is sweet like honey to Raichi’s ears but he’ll never say it to her face. There’s just something about the way she says his name that scratches a certain part spot in his brain and in return he finds himself feeling a particular way. He’s prickly because he’s 50/50 in his thoughts about her. On one hand, he’s almost certain that she knows exactly what she’s doing, and he can’t stand that her charms have this much of an effect on him. On the other hand, he’s not sure. There’s this doubt that she knows her effect and it pisses him off to no end that he can’t fully read her intent.

Usually, he can easily deem someone an “asshole” or not but when he looks at her, all Raichi is met with are these pretty eyes and he doesn’t see any hidden intent. It’s quite the opposite and in return, it evokes feelings of wanting to protect her. Raichi is quite the.. character though, everything must be difficult with him. It’s just in his chaos-inducing nature. His mental process is: she can’t not know how hot she is but there’s also this… air about her that makes people compelled to feel endeared by her. Simply making the notion of her using her visuals to essentially influence people to get what she wants goes against why the guys can’t help but dote on (Name).

He watches her stance as she dusts her hands together before aimlessly wiping her palms on the material of her pale pink Spanx. The look on her face screams damsel in distress— pretty pout on her glossy lips and her brows pinched in a furrow. (Name) didn’t catch what he said to her previously, clearly wrapped in her little conundrum of how she was going to get this to the field by herself before practice started.

“Can you help me, pretty please? It’s too heavy to lift on my own.” She says. He chooses to stay silent, merely looking at her with slightly raised brows as he finishes the last of the pink velvet dessert in his hand.

“Please? I made you cupcakes!” (Name) stomps her foot a bit, finding herself a little frustrated because her time was ticking and practice was starting in less than thirty minutes at this point. Ego liked to give her a hard time about her time management, even going as far as to mention a replacement if she “couldn’t get her act together.” It was an obvious scare tactic, he was just annoyed with her performance as it was not up to his standards. Everything under Ego’s ship had to be executed to his liking and he wouldn't settle for less.

“You made everyone cupcakes.” He deadpans as he balls the wrapper up and tosses it into a nearby can. His eyes trail back to hers after the fact.

“But that one was special because it had your name on it and I made it specially for you.” He can’t lie, she’s adorable. The way her demeanor is in the moment, slowly becoming more and more frustrated with his lack of cooperation. Not to mention the way she misuses the word— something she’s been saying for a while in the way she uses it so confidently.

“Specially?” He questions, pushing off the door frame so he can enter the room in its entirety. “It’s especially, you ditz.” He closes the gap between them, only leaving a couple of centimeters between their respective frames, and (Name) feels like she can feel his body heat radiating from him, she was always convinced that his blood ran hot just like his temperament. She doesn’t budge though, only continuing to stand her ground with the cutest little scrunched-nose smile. She was attempting to hold it back which made Raichi offer her the smallest bit of a smirk.

(Name) was a flirt and she was good at it.

“Move out of the way.” He mumbles surprisingly softly, his head tilted downward as he looks at her. He does so until he tears his eyes from hers to finally get his hands on the water cooler. Now that he has it, he sees that it may have been too heavy for her to carry by herself. Raichi lifts it with ease though, his biceps contracting as he does so. “Come on, I’m not hauling this shit outside for you by myself.”

As they walk side by side with each other down the empty hallway, Raichi’s eyes begin to drift to her more than he’d like. In the brief moments that it happens, his golden-yellow irises study his favorite parts of her face. The long lashes that seemed to flutter upon her upper cheeks with every blink she took, the cutest nose that she liked to put the tiniest bit of blush on, her pouty lips that were tinted with a light cherry shade— it made Raichi sick the way she so effortlessly made him feel. Despite her looks, there had been something irritating him; something that had been on his mind for a while he just couldn’t shake. Raichi was never the type to beat around the bush and become passive in his feelings. He would address this eventually when they’re met with the field.

The blond places the water cooler down in its designated spot at the end of the benches where the paper cups had been already placed.

“Hey,” Raichi calls for her, his expression unreadable as he looks at her.

“Hm?” (Name) looks at him with curiosity, her hands shading her eyes from the sun and her lips parted slightly.

“Is it true you’re fuckin’ Isagi?” He has no shame in the question but it really shouldn’t have been much of a shock from his lack of general etiquette to begin with.

“You! Are such a guy, Jingo!” She says incredulously, giving him a playful shove to his shoulder.

“What? It’s a question.” His brows are low, not finding an ounce of humor in his query.

“Isagi is sweet.” She responds.

“That ain’t what I asked you.” Raichi raises a brow.

“Why does it matter, huh?” (Name) lets out a little laugh, tilting her head a bit.

“It matters because I’m askin’ you.”

By this point, it was no real secret that quite a few of the guys harbored feelings for (Name) over time. She was just too good at what she did. Her bubbly personality and genuine kindness leave an endless trail of admirers in her wake.

The way she interacted with each member of the team made them feel special as if they were the only ones in the room. Her charisma was magnetic and drew people in effortlessly. Her “innocent” flirtations, the playful twinkle in her eyes, her infectious laughter— it had a way of making the guys’ hearts race.

“Oi, oi, oi. Less talking, more working.” Tabito whistles at the two as he approaches them, a few more boys trickling in behind him.

“Shut up, dickwad.” Raichi quips.

“No fighting, please.” (Name) sighs as she lifts a sheet on her clipboard.

“Hey.” Tabito’s voice rang out as he sauntered over to where (Name) stood not too far from Raichi.

She glanced up, a playful grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Hi, Tabito.”

He stretched his arms outward casually, his arms folded across his chest. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“Mmm, nothin’—” (Name) replied with an innocent shrug, her eyes sparkling upward at him as she grinned down at her.

Raichi rolls his eyes at the interaction, choosing to lace up his cleats. His nasty expression contradicted the light-hearted banter in the room. He watched as (Name) and Tabito exchanged playful words, his gaze flickering between them and the task at hand.

As the banter continued, Raichi’s mind wandered back to the countless moments he had witnessed between (Name) and the other guys on the team. He couldn’t deny the twinge of jealousy that gnawed at him, though he did a good job at keeping his emotions hidden behind his rough exterior. It seemed as though it were the Hunger Games when it came to (Name), and she was the prized gem whether she realized it or not. Raichi had a hunch that he wasn’t the only one who’d been smitten with this broad— for a while.

The boys continued to trail in one by one, sometimes in pairs like Reo and Nagi. But (Name) continued to do her daily checklist without issue as they all became settled— doing warm-ups until Ego showed up.

Practices were usually easier to handle than official games. It’s understandable; there’s high pressure and strain put on the players which essentially makes (Name)’s job, a real job. Tending to their personal needs was all that mattered as far as she was concerned. She had witnessed the team’s transition from practices to official games countless times, each time realizing just how much pressure and strain the players were under. Her role extended beyond just providing physical support; she was there to offer emotional support as well, ease pre-game nerves, and make sure that each player was mentally prepared to give their best on the field. Men are typically.. less in tune with their emotions than women are. It helps.

(Name) had taken on the role of the Blue Lock’s unofficial mascot because of this, particularly in Bachira’s eyes. However, there was a not-so-subtle undercurrent of aggression amongst some of the guys and Bachira. he had a way of hugging and showering her with affection that seemed innocent and endearing, but those who knew him well were aware that he knew exactly what he was doing. He expertly played the role of an adorable puppy causing a bit of mischief— something everyone adored, yet his intentions were akin to a mischievous younger sibling sticking their tongue out at their older sibling behind their mom’s back, knowing full well the game he was playing.

“(Nickname)!” Bachira says in a sing-song tone as he approaches from behind, covering her eyes with his hands. He gives her a cute smile as he looks at her from over her shoulder. “Guess who?”

“Bachi?” Her little name for him makes his heart skip a beat, an excitable giggle leaving his lips as he uncovers her eyes. She turned to face him and couldn’t help but smile as Bachira enveloped her in a warm embrace, their cheeks pressed together in a hug. His personality was contagious, and his affectionate demeanor always managed to tickle her spirits.

“Pretty, pretty girl~♡” Bachira’s playful tone made her smile softly, the endearing nickname earning a sweet laugh from her. She takes his face into her hands, smiling as she squishes his cheeks together.

“Weren’t you supposed to tone your hair a couple of days ago?” (Name) teased, an amused glint in her eyes as she ran a hand through his bangs— the color still a brassy yellow shade.

Bachira’s expression turned sheepish, and he scratched the back of his head with a bashful grin. “Ah, yeah, about that… I kind of forgot about it~ I need your help. I’m not good at this stuff like you. Come over and help me.” Before she could answer, she’d been cut off by a familiar voice.

“Come over without me too, Meguru? Cheating on me right in front of my face?” (Name) and Bachira both turned to find Isagi, walking over with a small smile on his face.

“Yoichi! Hi,” (Name) said, her voice sounding almost dreamlike as she greeted him. Her heart raced in her chest as she looked at him, but she couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement wash over her— good and tingly feelings all over.

No doubt about it, Isagi held a special place in her heart. Raichi's intuition was spot on, their bond was undeniable. They enjoyed their time together; both.. inside and outside the bedroom. However, it wasn't an official relationship per se. They danced on the fine line between friendship and something more, both enjoying the freedom that came with it.

Honestly, it was a connection built on physical attraction initially, and over time a genuine care for one another formed, making it all the more sticky especially for (Name) for.. various reasons. Isagi was the kind of person who could effortlessly bring a smile to her face and warmth to her heart, she felt like she was a little girl in school again. Something exciting to keep her anticipating what’s to happen next. It also helped that Isagi was cute as a button.

It happened at an after-party of a press conference nearly half a year ago— the drinks had been going and the two had gotten very close as the night progressed. All it took was a single look at him through her lashes and one too many flirty touches left on his arms and chest. He asked if she wanted to leave early and she agreed without a second thought. Of course, they played it off nicely, leaving not at once but one by one about ten minutes apart. Isagi fucked all her sorrows away, leaving both of them tangled into the sheets breathless. It’s been like this ever since but, Yoichi does have plans.

“Don’t hog (Name) all to yourself!” Bachira punched his shoulder, his tone had a teasing lilt to it.

“I don’t hog her, you little..-” Isagi reached over to put him in a light headlock, the both of them giggling and playing like they were still kids at recess. She smiled as she looked on at the two, feeling grateful that they found each other when they did.

(Name) looked over her shoulder and happened to lock eyes with the ever-so-brooding captain of the team: Rin Itoshi. Her smile falters a bit, brows pinched in a displeased furrow as a heavy feeling settles in her chest, leaving her feeling a bit helpless. She didn’t like the feeling— she didn’t like it at all. She was a relatively happy girl who didn’t like being taken out of character, she prided herself in that.

“So, (Name), are we helping Bachira with his hair today?” Isagi asked, his curiosity piqued. His voice held a hint of playfulness, but underneath, there was a trace of vulnerability. He’d been testing the waters—wanting to see whether or not he could crash this little “private party.”

As he spoke, Isagi’s eyes flickered between (Name) and Bachira, trying to gauge their reactions. His grin, although friendly, was subtly tinged with an edge. It wasn’t just curiosity driving him; it was jealousy that simmered just beneath the surface. In the moments that followed, Isagi’s body language revealed more than just his words. He subtly moved closer to (Name), not wanting to be left out of the conversation or, more importantly, her attention.

“Huh..?” She turns her head back to Isagi and Bachira, shaking her head as if she’d been trying to snap out of something. But Isagi had already noticed that she seemed off like she was bothered by something or rather someone.

“Oh, sure— if Bachi doesn’t mind.” There’s a smile on her lips that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. By this point, Bachi managed to wriggle free of Isagi and made his way over to talk to Nagi and Reo who weren’t too far from where they stood.

“Hey,” Yoichi calls for her gently. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course! I’m okay.” She answers as she nods her head. Her smile seems more genuine this time, not like before a few seconds ago. Maybe she’s managed to suppress whatever she had been feeling— a fleeting wave of emotion only elicited by a trigger.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, his voice lowering an octave or two. He just barely takes a step closer, pretty blue eyes filled with worry.

“No, Isagi,” she answered delicately, her fingers nervously twirling a strand of her hair. “Why would I be upset with you?”

Isagi's concern deepened as he noticed her anxious gesture. He reached out, gently touching her arm. “Just making sure..”

(Name) glanced down at his hand on her arm, a fleeting moment of comfort in his touch. She sighed and looked away, her gaze fixating on a nearby bench.

“Is it about him?” Isagi asked.

“What?” Her brows furrowed and she followed his gaze to the distant figure of Rin. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Is it about him?”

“I'm not talking about this right now, Isagi,” (Name) replied, her eyes returning to Isagi's, a mixture of emotions swirling within them. They were narrowed, threatening him silently. It had been an almost incredulous expression as if she couldn’t believe that he was choosing to carelessly bring this up right now of all times. Isagi was a smart boy, he knew to leave it. (Name) kept a leash on him in a way, despite the sweetness of her demeanor and face— she was capable of having a mean streak.

As the team was immersed in their practice drills, the words hung in the air like an unspoken echo.

“Isagi!” Reo calls him over, both her and Isagi looking over to where the trio stood.

“I’ll talk to you later, okay?” Isagi says, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he gives her a final glance before jogging away.

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The training facility buzzed with energy as the team went through their practice drills, Blue Lock’s technology seamlessly integrated into every aspect of their training. The walls of the facility were adorned with holographic screens that displayed real-time data and strategy simulations. The air was filled with a familiar sense of intensity only they understood as the team, focused on honing their skills for the upcoming game.

As the practice session neared its end, (Name) caught sight of Ego observing from a distance. He stood by a large holographic display, analyzing the players’ performance metrics. They managed to exchange eye contact which is when Ego signaled to (Name) to come where he stood. She nodded in acknowledgment and made her way past the field. She’ll never get over just how tall he is in comparison to her as she practically cranes her neck to look up at him.

“See me in my office in five minutes.” He requested, adjusting his glasses further onto his face with his middle finger. Ah, he was so intimidating sometimes— especially when his glasses had a glare. Ego was nice enough to her though, even if he was a little scary.

“Okay!” She nods quickly as he dismisses himself, barely giving her enough time to acknowledge his request.

Reo had been watching the exchange from a distance and couldn't resist the opportunity to tease her— he walked over a piece of minty gum being chewed by his pearly whites. With a grin, he asked, “In trouble?”

(Name) giggled at his words. “I hope not,” she replied.

He leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Well, if you need someone to come to your rescue, you know where to find me,” he said, popping his gum. “You know how intense Ego can be.”

She matched Reo’s gaze, tilting her head, and offered a gentle pat on his cheek. It was how seemingly ignorant she was about little things like eye contact; a historically intimate, sometimes even taboo action. Reo recognized that he was flirting quite openly, fully aware of it. However, her natural charm had him feeling somewhat.. disoriented one could say. He’s almost certain that she wasn’t picking up on his advances but rather, she was just being herself. Reo felt like he was out of his league, realizing he needed to step up his game to get his point across.

“I'll remember that,” she replied, a hint of playfulness in her tone. As Reo pondered how to navigate her, (Name) continued the conversation with a hint of innocence that seemed to come naturally to her.

“So, Mr. Shining Armor,” she began, a playful twinkle in her eye, “If I ever need, like, an alibi or something, you’d totally have my back, right?”

Reo grinned. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’d hire you a lawyer if you really needed it, but you’re a good girl, no? You wouldn’t even need an alibi to begin with.”

A playful pout formed on (Name)’s lips as she huffed out her cheeks and stomped her foot in playful protest. “Says who! I can hang with the best of them!”

“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve got about two minutes to get to Ego’s office.” He says matter of factly.

“What! You’re lying!” Her demeanor shifted to one of mild panic as she glanced at the time on her wristband. With a swift and almost comical spin, she hurriedly dashed off, her footsteps echoing down the corridor. “I’ll talk to you soon!”

She made her way to Ego’s office, knocking briskly before letting herself in. His office was a blend of sleek design and advanced functionality. The walls had the same interactive screen she had seen earlier. The AI was amazing, she had never seen anything like it until she landed this job. It was capable of anything it seemed, projecting game footage, tactical analysis, and real-time player stats that all just scratched the surface of it. Ego pulled up her “profile” one day, it had information that she didn’t even give consent to give out. Weird? Yes, but she’s seen worse since she started here.

As she entered, the screens adjusted to her presence, dimming slightly as if they were on standby mode. Ego stood at his desk, which was more like a command center with all of the digital interfaces and gesture controls. He motioned for her to take a seat, and she obliged, settling into a chair near to his own. Ego’s gaze met hers, his usually stern expression softened slightly by the bluish hues of the various screens.

“I wanted to talk to you about something important, (Name).” She listened attentively as Ego spoke to her.

“A very important game is near, so I need you on your A-game, (Name),” Ego said, making her furrow her brows just a bit in curiosity. “Yes, you’re the appointed water girl; however, you’ll also have other duties such as acting as an.. on-call personal assistant of sorts. I need you to keep them happy and stress-free no matter how ridiculous their requests are.”

“Requests?” She blinks at him and tilts her head.

“Yes.” He didn’t seem as though he was willing to explain. Ah, of course. Ego never liked to be questioned anyway.

She let out a sigh but her usual warm smile appeared once again as she reassured him, “You can count on me, Ego! ” A cute smile grew on her lips, and she saluted him playfully. Ego’s eyes rolled at the gesture, though a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

“Alright, enough theatrics,” he said, his stern exterior softening just a touch as he adjusted his frames. “I trust you, (Name).”

(_ _ ) . . z Z

The final whistle blew on the starry-lit soccer field, the tension of the intense match at an all-time high as Blue Lock emerged victorious. The crowd roared with excitement and the stadium lights illuminated the scene like a grand stage. The team had just delivered a performance for the ages. The players had gathered in the center of the field, their eyes still shining with the intensity of the match— the pure satisfaction and euphoria coursing through their veins. It felt as though the energy surrounding them had been visible, deep blue. Signifying power, confidence, and authority. All things that they had been representing in that very moment as they went home with the win, the opposing team had long since exited the field leaving Blue Lock to celebrate amongst themselves.

They all exchanged sloppy hugs and high-fives, congratulating each other on a game well played— jumping on each other and dog piling on top of one another.

Isagi couldn't tear his gaze away from (Name) who had been working just as tirelessly throughout the game— an essential presence on the sidelines throughout the night. Her eyes sparkled with pride and admiration as she watched them all celebrate their triumph. Her hands had been interlocked with Anri’s own as they cutely jumped with each other. Both were so excited as Ego stood not too far next to them looking as pleased as he possibly could look for him, his hands had been placed in his pockets with an odd posture. It’s not long before he’s exiting himself amongst all the chaos.

Amid the post-game frenzy, Isagi felt an overpowering surge of emotion. Ignoring the paparazzi cameras and the cheering crowd, he made his way to (Name) on the sidelines. He had no clue what he was doing, his feet seemingly moving on their own as he grew closer and closer to where she stood.

With the world as their witness, he gently took her by the hand and pulled her close, their hearts beating in sync but her reasoning with the excitement of the victory and Isagi’s because he was about to put everything on the line.

“Isa..?” (Name)’s voice has always been sweet but he thought it sounded more sugary when she said his name.

With the stadium lights casting a halo around them, Isagi looked deeply into (Name)’s eyes and was swept away by the heat of the moment: he kissed her. Time seemed to stand still as they locked lips.

As Isagi closed the gap between them, his breath hitched, and he could feel the warmth of (Name)’s breath on his lips. Their faces drew nearer, eyes closing in unison, anticipation hanging heavy in the air. His hand, trembling ever so slightly, cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing her skin as he tilted her head gently.

(Name)’s lips were soft and inviting, meeting his with a tender, tentative touch. It was a gentle exploration, like two puzzle pieces finding their perfect fit. Isagi’s heart raced as he felt the electric spark of their connection. He could taste the sweet excitement of the victory on her lips, mixed with the saltiness of the sweat on his lips from the intense game.

Their mouths moved in perfect harmony, a dance of love and longing. Isagi’s other hand found its place on the small of (Name)’s back, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed together, fitting like two halves of a whole.

The kiss deepened, and their tongues met— a gentle and passionate duel as if they were pouring every ounce of their emotions into this single, stolen moment.

As their lips moved in sync with one another, a hush seemed to fall over the stadium, even amidst the continued celebrations. The two were lost in the intensity of their kiss, the world fading away until it was just the two of them, wrapped up in the heat of the moment.

The paparazzi were momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection but they quickly recovered, cameras capturing the raw, unfiltered emotion that flowed between one of the star players and the sweet little water girl. The team began to realize what was happening soon after, confused looks on some, angry expressions on others, and a few who just seemed to be happy for Isagi. The stadium had long since erupted in a new wave of cheers and applause.

Isagi eventually pulled away from her lips, breathless and flushed but wearing a smile that spoke volumes.

“Yoichi..?” She blinks up at him, finding it hard to process what had just happened and more importantly, what it all means. “What was that?”

“I want everyone to know that I want you.” He confessed.

The aftermath of Isagi and (Name)’s intimate moment hung in the air, a delicate whisper during the fading cheers in the stadium. However, the serene atmosphere shattered abruptly as (Name)’s desperate cries pierced through the celebratory echoes. The transition from the warmth of the kiss to the chilling urgency in (Name)’s voice unfolded like a sudden storm.

“Rin—! Rin you’re hurting me! Rin Itoshi! Let me go!” The harsh urgency in (Name)'s voice resonated through the narrow hallway, her plea filled with both physical pain and emotional distress. She struggled to keep her footing, her feet almost stumbling as she tried to keep up with Rin's determined strides. The locker room loomed ahead, its cold, metallic door reflecting the dim light from a flickering overhead bulb.

Rin’s face was a tumultuous sea of emotions. Anger and frustration bubbling at the surface that almost always remained cool and collected, made him deaf to the celebration’s distant echoes. His fingers clamped around (Name)’s upper arm like an unyielding vice, pulling her along a path she desperately wished to escape from. The last thing she wanted was to fight but it was clear that not only had the festivities been forgotten in Rin's mind, but any chance of him enjoying them had been cruelly dashed. Not like he was the celebration type anyway.

The tension crackled like static electricity in the space between them. Despite the lingering thrill of the victory, the atmosphere inside the locker room weighed heavily upon them, contrasting sharply with the post-game excitement. Amidst the disarray of his teammates’ gear, Rin’s voice dripped with frustration as he confronted (Name).

“You, should really fucking know better, (Name).” Rin’s penetrating gaze remained fixed upon her, the tension palpable between them. (Name) looked upset and disheveled as looked up at him, never once backing away from his gaze. She shot back with a voice trembling with exasperation and frustration, “What do you want me to do, Rin? You don't want to be my boyfriend, but you get angry with me when I get attention from someone who actually wants to be with me! In public!”

Rin's jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in response to her words— clearly, she’s been talking about Isagi. Rin wasn’t stupid, not that they had been trying to hide it well to begin with. “Isagi of all people.”

(Name) couldn't contain her anger any longer, her voice raising as she spoke. She made sure to point a mean finger at him, poking his chest as she did so. “Don't talk about him like that. As if you treat me better than him. You’re crazy!”

Just as the tension reached its height, the locker room door swung open, revealing bewildered-looking teammates as they all trickled into the room. They heard a commotion coming from inside and decided to investigate. Although they had all been listening piled on top of each other seconds before Isagi finally pushed through.

“Did we walk in on somethin'?” Raichi asked. (Name) and Rin exchanged conflicted glances, gazes torn between the intensity of the game and the unresolved issues in their relationship. Rin looked particularly unbothered by the exchange though, it should be a talent with how he can keep his demeanor a thorough constant even in the most stressful situations. Most of the time.

“Yes!” (Name) exclaimed, but Rin quickly retorted. “No,”

“What’s going on?” Isagi asked, closing the gap between him and her. He had a worried look on his face as he looked down at her.

“Nothing, we just had a discussion is all.” She answered.

“No. Let them know what’s mine is mine.” Rin stated, causing her heart to skip a beat. She hated that— her heart often betrayed her brain so often, especially when it came to Rin. She was mad at him!

“Excuse me?” Isagi tilted his head, brows furrowed as he took a step closer in Rin’s direction.

“Please, not right now. We just won a big game..” (Name) said, her voice carrying a heavy solemnity as though she were deeply concerned. She absolutely couldn’t stand when they fought. When any of them fought, really. Rin’s jaw clenched again, but he refrained from saying more for the moment, his gaze locked onto Isagi. It’s at that moment when Rin takes his hand and grabs a hold of her face, turning her head towards him and planting a sloppy kiss right on her mouth— an act that shows his possession of her.

The locker room fell silent as they watched this display of affection, leaving everyone, including Isagi, momentarily stunned.

(Name) blinked in astonishment, her cheeks hot, and her heart raced. She didn’t expect such a public display of affection from Rin, especially during their argument. His actions spoke volumes, and despite the tension that had filled the room, there was a sense of raw passion in that kiss.

Rin finally pulled away from the kiss, his intense gaze still locked onto (Name), as if daring anyone to challenge his claim. It was a bold move, one that left no doubt about his feelings, even if it had created an even more complicated situation.

(Name), her voice shaky but filled with a mix of emotions, whispered to Rin, “You didn’t have to do that..”

In a bold move of Isagi’s own, he closed the distance between himself and (Name), taking her face gently in his hands, and he leaned in to kiss her. The locker room seemed to hold its breath as Isagi’s lips met (Name)’s in a tender kiss.

Isagi felt his body respond immediately to her kiss, his cock hardening against his leg. He could feel her soft lips pressing against him, and he could hear her whine softly into the kiss. Maybe it’d been the heat of the moment, but being watched— having all eyes on him as he essentially marked his territory had him reeling. It felt similar to being on the field.. having someone feel threatened by his very sense of self only for him to claim the goal as his. This felt no different.

“I—” (Name) stood in the center of the room at a loss for words, her heart torn between the two men who both held a special place in her life. She could feel the intensity of the emotions radiating from Rin and Isagi, their heated argument having morphed into something far more complex. The situation had already taken an unexpected turn, and the tensions between Rin and Isagi were undeniable. Rin reached out for (Name) but Isagi acted on the same instinct— both of the men simultaneously closed the distance between themselves and (Name), their lips meeting hers in a kiss that’d been rather rough and unpoetic.

The room descended into a breathless hush as the trio partook in an impassioned, electrifying kiss. It was a tempest of emotions and longings, where Rin and Isagi’s competitive spirits transcended the realm of sport, now manifested in the fervor of their lips upon (Name)’s. Each kiss was an assertion of ownership, a silent declaration of their claim on her heart.

Unspoken desires smoldered beneath the surface, like coiled embers ready to ignite. Both Isagi and Rin may have carried a secret yearning for one another, one that was concealed beneath the shadow of their shared affection and feelings for (Name) and their ongoing rivalry. Perhaps it was a whirlwind of emotions, a silent tug-of-war between jealousy and attraction. Neither dared utter the truth if there were any, and yet deep down there existed an unspoken curiosity about what it would be like to bridge the divide that separated them.

Past the competition, their emotions churned frequently with high ups and low lows. With frustration intertwined, it blurred the fine lines that separated friendship and rivalry. Hours spent together on and off the soccer field had woven a tapestry of connection, a bond that transcended the boundaries of just being teammates but friends. The bond, though sometimes frayed by the throes of their shared affection for (Name), added another intricate layer of complexity to their relationship. It was as if they constantly teetered on the precipice of something more. But truthfully? Neither of them wanted to even entertain the thought. Or so they tell themselves.

The remaining teammates were initially taken aback, exchanging enigmatic glances among themselves. Some wore the cloak of astonishment, while others concealed their intrigue behind veils of confusion. A few remained adrift in the sea of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tempestuous waters of this unexpected turn.

The locker room that was once heavy with tension and discord, had metamorphosed into a simmering crucible of passion and desire. The air itself seemed to shimmer with the intensity of their emotions, like molten steel in a crucible, forging something new from the raw elements of longing and affection.

The taste of desire and longing hung heavy in the air, and what had begun as a spontaneous act was now evolving into something far more passionate and consuming. As the trio’s kiss deepened, the locker room seemed to pulse with an almost palpable energy. The boundaries between all of them blurred, and for that suspended moment in time, it seemed as though everyone knew where this was heading.

Rin’s hands moved to cup her breasts upward, pushing them together before harshly pulling down the babydoll pink top to expose her bra.

“R—! Rin!” It was similar to a chirp, the way (Name) said his name. She looked breathless with her lips glossy with a mix of both Rin and Isagi’s DNA— oh, shedding flustered. Like a sweet little rabbit who got her cottontail pulled by a big bad wolf.

“Shut up.” Is the only thing he muttered into her neck as his large hands continued to grope her.

“Is this really okay, Captain?” Isagi asked, blue irises narrowed deliberately trying to evoke an emotion out of Rin by using his title.

Rin pulled away from her, his chest heaving as he met Isagi’s intense gaze. “It’s not like they haven’t been thirsting after her like mutts.” Rin retorted his voice low and possessive, a defiant challenge in his words.

Rin’s next response was a sly, almost wicked statement. “Give them a show,” he whispered, his words laced with provocation as he locked onto Isagi's gaze, fully aware of the effect his words would have on their audience.

The next moments for (Name) seemed to blur into a haze. Time lost its meaning as she found herself caught between Rin and Isagi— Isagi’s hand found its way to her throat from where he stood behind her. Slender fingers wrapped around her delicate and sensitive neck while Rin’s hands roamed.

“Look at what you did..” Isagi presses his erection into her, his thick shaft snug against the pillowy softness of her ass.

“Yoichi..” She gasped softly, brows furrowed as she was directed to look upward.

“Yoichi..” Isagi mocks her softly, his own voice going up an octave. “Shh. You’re real quiet..” Isagi whispers directly into her ear, his breath hot and shaky as he speaks to her in a lower tone— his words sending a shiver down her spine. His tone, honeyed in arousal and heat, carried a note of urgency that left her heart pounding. “This is how you act with him?” His question held a weight of not only a weight desire but possessiveness; and jealousy.

“She knows her place and her limits,” Rin answered for her as his fingertips skillfully unclasped the heart clip that held her bra together. (Name)’s tits had a delicious drop under their weight, her buds hardened rather quickly not only because of Rin’s stimulation but the temperature in the locker room had been chilly.

Bachira virtually had no qualms about palming himself through his shorts, his cock stiff with a perverted little expression on his face as he watched the scene unfold. Truth be told, this isn’t the first time he’s done something depraved like this. See, Bachira had a bit of a fixation on voyeurism and exhibitionism. It was almost as if he was in the room by himself, enjoying his sight before of him like he were at home watching the perverse bookmarks on his burner account on Twitter. This to him was even more of a treat— not only does he get to watch but he gets the luxury of having others watch him.

“See what your effect is on all of these perverts?” Rin asks, his voice low against her ear. “And yet you still walk around clueless, these little skirts and small tops.”

Isagi makes the next move with hands sliding down behind her waist where fingertips unzip the back of her skirt. His thumbs hook into the material of both her mini and the panties she wore, pulling both garments down in haste.

“Fuck me.” Raichi groaned, he put up a desperate attempt to hold onto whatever sanity he did have but he hasn’t gotten laid in weeks and this is probably as close to (Name)’s pussy as he was going to get. So help him god if any of this gets out to the press he’s going to fucking lose it. He starts palming himself through his shorts too, only gaining the courage to actually pull himself out when he catches a glimpse of Bachira who had been holding his cock at its base, rubbing his frenulum with the pad of his fingertip. Its head was leaky— comically so as it dripped slowly onto the floor below him where he stood. Raichi spits into his hand before he wraps it around him, giving it a firm squeeze before stroking himself slowly. His balls are heavy, it's embarrassing to say that he has to be careful. He doesn’t want to be the first guy to cum, especially in this kind of situation.

The room had been filled with breathy moans and explicit sounds and statements as they all became meshed together in, let’s not mince words: an orgy.

Reo and Nagi seemed to have fallen into their solace between each other, lips locked in a fervent kiss as their clothed clothes rubbed against each other, it wasn’t very long before they’d been frotting bare against each other. Yukimiya follows in both Raichi and Bachira’s footsteps by pulling out his cock and jerking himself off, imagining that (Name) was the one who was touching him, kissing him, making him cum anywhere he wanted to.

Isagi’s mouth is hot on (Name)’s cunt as she sits on the bench, her legs propped up on either side of her to keep her legs open and spread. His pointer finger and middle spread her lips apart as his tongue delves into the heart of her sweet pussy, causing rivulets of her sticky essence to drip down his chin. Isagi was always a messy eater— he was one of those types who liked to eat pussy for his pleasure. He could be between her legs for hours if she let him but she gets a little restless because she ends up wanting to get fucked after her second orgasm on his tongue. Isagi and Rin were different in that regard. It’s not because Rin didn’t want to or like foreplay: he just preferred to fuck because he could do it for hours when time permits.

Rin looks down at her while she holds his hard cock in her hand. Her tongue feels warm, slippery, and wet as she circles it around his cockhead. He watches her build up her momentum as she starts to suck on it instead— she always did this and that alone would make him cum if she tried but she makes it a point to prove she can swallow him whole without gagging. (Name) says it feels more rewarding when he can cum down her throat too— it’s probably what she was working towards right now, slowly taking him inch by inch. She knows her limits though it seems because she’s using her hands with what she can’t get down to.

Rin thinks he likes this position: he’s standing over Isagi in both a literary and metaphorical sense. He’s on his knees serving his girlfriend while she focuses all her attention on him— doing her best to make him feel good. Rin’s compliance to all of this carries a certain weight of unresolved tensions, it feels more like a means of control than the genuine connection between Isagi or any other teammate in this locker room. In Rin’s head, he’s doing them a favor. He tosses a mere glance at the rest, eyes focused on the depraved displays of lust in front of him.

“..Shit. That feels good.” Tabito’s eyes are closed shut as Chigiri’s mouth wraps around the head of his cock and Hiori licks up and down his shaft. The redhead’s looking up at Tabito through lash lines that seem a little too feminine— he’s holding a piece of his hair tucked behind his ear as he slowly envelops Tabito’s growing cock. Hiori’s hands are both wrapped around his shaft and Chigiri’s as they work along Tabito’s cock, often meeting at the top of his cock to share a wet tongue kiss.

Tabito didn’t think he could get any harder but here he is now, trying not to blow his load prematurely all in their pretty mouths. There’s a part of Tabito that feels a small amount of shame— or perhaps something akin to embarrassment as he gets his cock sucked. Maybe it’s the overall absurdity of the situation: the entire team getting essentially cucked by the water girl everyone wants to be balls deep in and the two dickheads who have had a one-up on them all the entire time. Another reason is probably because he’s one of those men who prides himself in being an Alpha male of sorts— bragging about how many women he can pull but once again, here he is getting his cock sucked on by two pretty boys.

Isagi’s lips encircle her clit, applying gentle suction as he slips his pointer and middle into her slit. Warm walls encompass his digits as he rocks them a certain way he knows she likes. (Name) is already finding it difficult to focus on sucking Rin off with Isagi between her legs like this. Her free hand finds its way into Isagi’s hair, giving him a gentle grip as she tries to ground herself. As he continues to suck on her sensitive bud, his actions become more fervent— sloppier and more urgent. Isagi could feel her insides twitching along his fingers, that’s why. She’s close and he wants to be the first one to make her cum in front of everyone. (Name) can’t help but tear her lips away from Rin’s cock, her hand continuing to jerk him off as she looks down at Isagi.

“I’m—!” She nearly chokes on her cry as she feels the initial push over the edge— then the dips come and she’s shaking. “—cumming, I’m cumming..!” (Name) repeats over and over again as she basks in the complete and total absence of control she has over her body in that very moment. It’s pretty— it's so pretty. She almost looks helpless but the sounds she’s making are making them spin. Isagi’s mouth is still attached to her core, following her body as she moves around. She rides out her high like this and Isagi only pulls away when he’s satisfied.

“Hah.. dammit..” Baro has been keeping to himself this whole time. The interesting thing about him is that he’s really a gentleman. He’s never been in a situation like this before but he’s also never been this turned on in his life. Baro also just learned that he likes to watch, his cock has been twitching in his thigh for almost thirty minutes. He’s making a mess in his boxer briefs because he can feel himself getting wet. The way his cock is jumping is enough friction to cause stimulation, when (Name) cums, he has to grab himself at his base to keep him from cumming. Baro looks down at himself, pulling up the inseam of his shorts and underwear to let the tip of his cock peek out. It jumps again, the cool air hitting its shiny and glistening tip as it drools. Precum leaking onto the floor.

The trio shifts their positions so that Rin is lying on the bench while (Name) straddles him, sheathing his cock at its hilt— Rin’s hands on her ass as she adjusts to him. It’s been a while since she’s had him because of a little disagreement they had. Well, in actuality it was everything but little. They hadn’t been “seeing” each other for the past couple of weeks as they usually do because of Rin’s.. approach to how he handles certain things. Specifically when it comes down to having conversations involving emotions and how to deal with them in healthy and effective ways. The “what are we” conversation didn’t go as she’d planned for it to be. He gave her a vague response that resolved nothing which in turn made her spiral, but it’s not like she‘s some sort of loose canon. She had her moments, yes.. but when it came to Rin he brought something nasty out in her that only he could.

“Don’t look at me,” (Name) says softly, her voice carrying a tone of resentment that holds no real weight as she grabs his face to make him look in another direction. Isagi is behind her as he prods his cock between her supple ass cheeks, ever so gently pressing the tip onto her puckered hole. A breathy chuckle escaped his lips when he saw how she jolted upwards, reaching behind her to shoo him away from that part of her.

“Hng— Isagi, not there. It’s been too long..” (Name) looks at him from over her shoulder. Isagi thinks she looks cute like that: brows pinched in a furrow with a pout on her lips she doesn’t even know she’s sporting. That’s alright. Her pussy seemed more appealing anyway, even if Rin’s cock had already been working its way into her. It was going to be nearly impossible to try to squeeze himself into her, Rin was already big admittedly— the last thing he wanted was to hurt her. But Isagi the issue here was that he didn’t like sharing. He leans over, lips connecting to her neck in a sweet kiss.

“Then can you take both in here..?” Isagi’s fingers gently brush against the same pussy that was currently stuffed with Rin’s cock. Isagi almost wanted to scoff— it was big and she was tight enough to make her grip around his shaft. He hated how much his cock was drooling, it was almost a little embarrassing.

“No, Yoichi.. I don’t think I can fit both.” She says. “I’m not prepped at all, pervert..” Her eyes are closed in a hum, as she reaches to hold the back of his neck into place while Rin plays with her clit. His eyes are low and lidded as they hone in on the precious little flower between her legs. He’s starting to move now, slowly, but he’s gotten a bit impatient. The fluttering around his dick isn’t helping either— he’s almost entirely tuned out everyone else.

“Then you’re going to try, right? For me?” Isagi pressed another kiss into her skin and his eyes flickered upward and over to Bachira who had seemingly inched his way over to the three, a bright-eyed look in his eye as he looked at (Name) like she was a pretty prize, adorned with the wrapping paper and bow. Rin gives him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye but doesn’t say anything. Rin tolerated Bachira more than other players for whatever reason. Unfortunately, he thinks that Bachira may have grown on him over time. Rin would never admit that but he’s sure if it had been anyone else, he’d be beside himself but Bachira isn’t touching her so it’s acceptable.

“Meguru,” Isagi hums. He reaches around to grab a hold of her face to make her look at Bachira, placing another kiss on her cheek. “She’s so pretty, right? Prettier than the last time, you think?” Isagi looks over at him again with a knowing grin.

Last time.. that was supposed to be a secret between the three of them. Now she’s feeling embarrassed and a little bit like a slut. But it was a one-time thing! That night they were supposed to be toning Bachi’s hair, they had a little bit of wine— too much wine. One thing led to another and she ended up getting spit roasted with Isagi in her pussy and Bachira taking her mouth. If she wasn’t so out of her mind she’d say something— or maybe she wouldn’t, it was the truth after all. But they are going to get in trouble afterward, they made a promise and totally broke it.

“Mhm~! ♡” Bachira nods. “She’s a tough girl, she can take it.”

“We didn’t get to try last time but you think (Name) can fit two inside, right? She's doubting herself like a ..silly girl? Is that what you call her when she’s being clumsy?” Isagi flashes another smile, yet Bachira succumbs to his impulses, bridging the distance to share a kiss with (Name) before tenderly transitioning to Isagi, his lips moving in a gentle but firm kiss.

Rin doesn’t say much. It's odd but he’s soon pulling himself out of her so that they could shift into another position— one that could accommodate her more comfortably than the one she was in currently. (Name) assumes a reverse cowgirl position, while Rin supports one of her legs from behind the knee to establish a stable anchor. Isagi mirrors the action, both positioning their cocks at her pussy— one that seems too tight to fit both. Bachira’s been hovering, leaning over to spit right onto her pussy.

“You can do it! ♡” Bachira chirps, a chuckle adjacent to a giggle leaves his lips when she reaches out for him— he lets her with no question. She held onto the nape of his neck, fingers intertwined in the soft brassy hairs. The shuffle of footsteps echoed as the onlookers encircled the four, creating an impromptu audience. It’s almost like a.. circle jerk but with a view. All of their dicks are in hand, stroking themselves to the sight. The attention is getting (Name) off, she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t. Her cunt was visibly pulsating around nothing, her need to be absolutely filled to the brim was growing and the task of taking two cocks into the same hole seemed less daunting and more like a necessity.

“Holy shit..” An involuntary hiccup escapes her, accompanied by a restrained moan. It's the sensation of something notably large making its initial attempt to enter. They both push into her inch by inch and the grasp on Bachira’s hair is far less friendly. He doesn’t mind though, it feels good for him. “Oh my god—!”

It's a stretch that initiates with a subtle and controlled tension.. gradually intensifying until it teeters on the edge of discomfort. As she reaches the peak— both of their lengths halfway, a satisfying ache ensues, accompanied by a paradoxical sensation of relief as the apex passes. It’s a blend of pain and pleasure, as the muscles protest against the stretch while simultaneously yielding to the therapeutic pull of her walls, leaving her with a lingering sense of being full beyond imagination and gratification.

“Christ..” Rin says under his breath, letting out an almost shaky breath. It’s tight— it’s probably the tightest thing he’s had since he fucked her ass the first time. It’s an enveloping pressure that molds around him, both hard and soft. It seems as though his cock and Isagi’s are battling for room within her but there just simply wasn’t any.

“Look at you..” Isagi on the other hand can’t get over the view— none of them can. He’s only ever seen things like this in hardcore porn, never in real life. She’d stretched beyond belief, both cocks inside of her completely to the hilt. He doesn’t know what to do with himself other than stare and wait for her to permit them to move. Bachira’s making good use of himself by playing with her clit, lips locked onto her own as she reached to play with his cock.

She breaks away from his lips momentarily to look at Isagi with a darkened gaze before uttering the words, “Fuck me.” Rin misses not a single beat as he reaches upward, grabbing a handful of her hair at the base to yank her head back. Both men start fucking into her at a worrisome pace, one would think they’d be a tad more generous but it was clear there had been no more patience left. They wanted to cum in a hot and willing cunt. Their cocks both push and pull at alternating times, hitting different targets deep inside of her. She’s not catching a break between the two of them and it’s making her vision hazy.

Chasing after a high becomes the focal point of everyone’s agenda. Every touch seemed to be heightened amongst everyone, sending waves of euphoria through each of their bodies— there a sense of urgency surged through the air as something inched closer and closer. Her vision had been completely obscured by the overwhelming euphoria building in her core, the harsh lighting of the locker room becoming almost soft and blurred. Her tits jump at every impact of a pump, hardened buds getting licked and sucked on by Bachira. Some images she can make out when she comes to like: Baro, Yukimiya, and Raichi stroking themselves, Reo bent over on all fours while Nagi fucks him from behind, Chigiri and Hiori in a 69 position while Tabito alternates between Hiori’s ass and Chigiri’s mouth.

Unfortunately, she can’t hold it together anymore. It's the peak of pleasure, sensations converging into an intense climax—a symphony of ecstasy where every touch, breath, and heartbeat harmonize in sublime rhythm. Her mouth hangs open into a sweet little ‘O’ and she starts to shake uncontrollably, her cunt becomes a geyser as she squirts on Isagi’s lower half in short bursts. It’s a chain reaction: guttural moans breaking out as the onlookers begin to cum, multiple cumshots had and soiling the floor where they stood.

“Ah— fuck.. fuck.. fuckfuck—” Isagi’s hips start to falter terribly as he sputters out curses. Both he and Rin cum at the same time, filling her abused and beaten hole with their seed. Isagi doesn’t know it, but he’s overstimulating both (Name) and Rin because he’s the type to fuck through his orgasms until he absolutely can’t move anymore. Their cum sloshes inside of her and it’s enough to start oozing out of her, down her ass, and dripping onto Rin’s balls.

“Stop fucking moving.” Rin barks at Isagi before he eventually tires himself out, he slips out of her first then Rin carefully follows suit. The rest oozes out of her slowly and onto the bench, shallow breaths making her chest rise and fall.

As the echoes of pleasure subside, a serene aftermath settles in, wrapping the room in a cocoon of shared intimacy. In the dim glow of the aftermath, bodies rest, breaths sync, and the hazy ambiance settles.

She deserves a promotion.

#blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader

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r-is-typing · 3 months ago

Text

changes | s.r

summary: in which spencer gets overwhelmed, taking it out on reader

requested?: yes! requested by @adrienneleclerc

pairing: post-prison!spencer reid x fem!reader

category: angst with a fluff ending

content warnings: spencer being mean, talks of reid in prison

Three months. Three months had gone by since Spencer Reid was released from Millburn Correctional Facility due to Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn framing him for the murder of Nadie Ramos.

Since his release, Spencer had went through a very obvious change. He wasn't as talkative to his teammates except for discussing work, he was more agressive and harsh compared to his normal softness and gentle nature. What had changed the most was his relationship with her. Since his release, Y/N had tried to be there as much as she could.

She would make his coffee every morning, placing it on the counter in a travel mug she had given him as a Christmas gift a few years prior. She would iron his button-ups and work pants, she would make him breakfast on the days where he didn't leave in the middle of the night.

Despite Y/N's efforts in making Spencer feel somewhat normal considering what the man had gone through, it wasn't enough. She could tell, but what she didn't know was how to fix it.

The build up was slow. It started with conveniently forgetting the travel mug on their kitchen counter to spending hours ‘working’ in his office, even though she knew he wasn’t. Then, spending the night elsewhere despite knowing, thanks to one Penelope Garcia, that they had been home from a case for who knows how long, to today.

She didn’t know how she didn’t see it coming. Spencer’s team had just gotten back from a case, where they had been in Georgia for a week. Penelope had sent her a message, telling the woman that the jet had landed and that Spencer would most likely be home soon, but that the case was rough.

Y/N decided in that moment to make him his favorite meal, coffee just the way he liked, and putting on one of the Stark Trek’s for them to watch.

She sat on their couch folding the warm laundry that she had just pulled out of the dryer when she heard the sound of keys jingling and the doorknob twisting.

Her eyes looked up to meet Spencer and she stood to her feet. “Hi, handsome.” She spoke lovingly but softly. She takes note of how his eyes don’t meet her, only a simple nod greets her as he enters the dimly light apartment.

“I put some clean pajamas and your towel on the bathroom counter in case you wanted to shower. I tidied up your office a bit, I made the bed, and I’m just folding laundry. I have dinner ready whenever you’re hun-“

Spencer let out a groan, interrupting her. “Can you just stop?” Y/N froze, her hands holding onto his gray Comme des Garçons sweater that had a red heart on the left side.

“Wha-“ “Just shut up for one second!”

She barely had time to breathe before Spencer started shouting again. “I mean, seriously. I just got back from work and you’re down my throat about- about nothing!” He throws his arms up in the air for effect.

“I-I don’t need this, you, smothering me all the time. I get home, I want to relax and read or maybe lie down, but no. You’re jumping down my throat, wanting attention, or, or whatever you’re wanting.”

Spencer’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. One of his hands went up, aggressively ripping his tie open and throwing it down on-top of the coffee table in the living room.

Y/N felt a burning sensation in her eyes. Tears, she thought. She sighs, wiping her tears, awaiting the next thing Spencer is going to say. What other harsh things are going to come her way.

“Do you realize that since I’ve been released from a place I shouldn’t have even been in, I haven’t had a moment of silence?”

Spencer stares down at her in a way he’s never looked at her before. Y/N could only assume, thanks to the tears clouding her eyes, that he hated her.

“I come back from literal prison and you haven’t given me a moment to just breathe!” He angrily runs his hands through his hair. “For once, I’m just asking you to be silent.”

“No, no. Actually, I’m telling you. Be quiet and leave me alone.” The words Y/N never thought she would hear slipped from his mouth.

Y/N stood to her feet, shuffling quickly to their shared bedroom. Spencer heard the slam of the door and the click of the lock, and he just sighed.

Hours went by and Y/N was in their bed, face buried in the comforter. Her tears had soaked everything from the pillowcase to her cheeks, and even through her shirt. Y/N eyed the bedside table.

2:05am

Y/N sighed, rolling over and staring at the wall, even though she couldn’t see a thing. She heard light shuffling which she could only assume was Spencer.

Down the hall, he stood from the couch, glancing into the kitchen and at the microwave to determine the time. Spencer rubbed the sleep from his eyes, even though he had probably slept give or take about fourty-five minutes.

Spencer cursed to himself, remembering why he was on the couch in the first place.

Remembering what he had said to her. His eidetic memory being a blessing and a curse in the moment because he remembered the look on her face when he yelled. He remembered how she cowered. The eyes that would crease with happiness because of her love for him staring at him in a mix of fear and sadness burned in his memory.

Spencer stood to his feet, shuffling quickly but quietly to the shut bedroom door. He reached up and grabbed the universal key for all the locks in the apartment from the door frame.

Twisting the key, he unlocked the door, opening it to a dark room. The only light was from the alarm clock in the bedside table. Spencer could see Y/N's silhouette laying in the dark under their comforter.

"Sweetheart?" He called out, no response.

He walked through the door, closing it quietly behind him. Spencer navigated to the bed in the dark, pulling down his side of the blanket and sliding in to bed.

"I know you're awake." He says, she hums sleepily.

Spencer sighs, looking to the side where she was, his eyes practically staring holes into her back. "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have said those things." Y/N hums in a sleepy agreement.

"Everything has changed since I came back," he started. "but that's not on you. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You were being perfect and trying to help me adjust to life back home, and I took you for granted."

Y/N rolls over, facing him with half-lidded eyes. "You really hurt my feelings, Spencer." She spoke softly, afraid that if she was any louder, they'd both be scared. Spencer goes to cradle her head, but waits until she signals an 'okay'. With his large hands on either side of her face, he looks at her.

"I know, baby, and I'm so so sorry." Spencer kisses the crown of her head. "I'll spend a lifetime making it up to you." Y/N hums, curling into his side. She opens her eyes barely to look at him.

"You shouldn't have to go through this alone, okay? You're right, things have changed, but that doesn't mean you have to be alone, Spence. You're not alone anymore. I'm your family and I'm always going to be here for you."

Spencer stares at her with a lovesick smile. "I'm so lucky." He mumbled, kissing her head again. The two get into their normal positions in bed before falling asleep. Spencer was lucky to have her, as she was lucky to have Spencer.

He knew that with her, things would be okay.

r is typing...

thank you so much for the request, and i hope it's what you wanted! i'm working on other requests as well, but feel free to send in more as my requests are open!

i'm also trying new formatting for my posts (new dividers, text coloring, etc) so let me know your thoughts!

as usual, here are the important links!

masterlist & prompt list

request & guidelines

r is signing off...

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #spencer reid #requests #reqs open #requests open #request #spencer reid x fem!reader #r is typing #r-is-typing

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springtyme · 2 months ago

Text

𝐏𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ♡

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

Started my period today and cramps are kicking my butt. So, nataurally, I wrote some Spencer fluff to self sooth.

word count: 1.3k

warning/tags: Reader is on her period. Mention of cramps and cravings. Spencer is a sweetheart. Roommate au. Mutual pining. Fluff and comfort. This hasn't been proofread, so apoligies for any potential mistakes <3

You groan slightly as you clutch a cushion to your chest, trying to settle on the couch while a wave of discomfort washes over you, the familiar twinge in your lower abdomen, an annoying reminder that your period has arrived. You wish you could curl up under a blanket and disappear for a few days, which life doesn’t usually allow for, but it is Friday, and there is at least that little sense of relief that the weekend is here.

You take a deep breath, feeling the cushion’s softness against you, and allow yourself to sink a little deeper into the couch, squeezing your eyes shut for a brief moment as another cramp ebbs and flows. Just as you’re about to let yourself wallow in self-pity, you hear the gentle sound of keys jingling and the front door creaking open.

The slight shuffle of footsteps makes your heart flutter. You can almost picture him as he hangs up his jacket next to yours. It’s not as if you officially have designated places on the coat hanger, but you both seem to instinctively know where your things go: your coats to the right, his jackets to the left, closest to the door. It’s a tiny ritual, an unspoken symmetry: your shoes on the top shelf of the shoe rack, Spencer’s on the bottom. It’s comforting, a bit like the hot fudge brownie you’re currently craving—soft, warm, and reassuring.

Spencer’s voice calls out your name, breaking the quietness. It’s soft, laced with a gentle curiosity that always makes you smile, even when you’re feeling less than great. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m on the couch,” you reply, trying to keep your voice upbeat, even though your abdomen protests with another cramp.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice is warm, as he peaks around the corner, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he takes in your curled-up form. The way he looks at you—soft brown eyes wide with worry as his gaze lands on you makes your heart swell, even amid the discomfort.

“Hey,” you reply, forcing a smile. You could use some comfort right about now, but you’re not sure how to express it.

He tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes you in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting up a little straighter and attempting to brush off your discomfort.

Spencer’s brow still knit with concern as though your discomfort is a puzzle he wants to solve. “Are you sure? You seem... a bit off.”

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to open up. But there’s something in his eyes, a soft understanding that makes you feel safe. “It’s just— you know, girl stuff,” you mumble, biting your lip. His expression softens, instantly changing from concern to something gentler—perhaps empathy, or just the simple desire to help.

“Do you need anything?” he asks, lingering by the doorway, his hands fidgeting with his messenger bag. The sight of him, warm and slightly disheveled from his day at work, makes your heart swell. He looks so sincere, and it’s hard not to smile.

Falling in love with your roommate was the furthest thing from your mind when you moved to D.C. a year ago and desperately looked far and wide for a place to live. But here you are, head over heels for the man who has a penchant for collecting obscure facts, making the best cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted, and hanging his coat on the left side of the coat hanger while yours resides on the right.

He hates how the water makes his hands pruny and how the leftover food on the plates turns mushy when doing the dishes, which you have never really minded, but he loves vacuuming, which you on the other hand have never been a big fan of, and he tolerates the tedious routine of folding laundry just about as much as you do. So you wash the dishes and he dries off the plates and silverware you hand him, and on Sundays you fold your laundry together and every time you do so, you fall a little harder.

“Maybe some chocolate?” you admit, a hint of shyness lacing your words. It’s a little embarrassing, even though it shouldn’t be, but it feels good to be honest with him.

“Chocolate it is,” he replies, a bright smile breaking through his initial concern. You can see the shift in his mood, and it warms you to know your simple request has lifted some of the weight on his shoulders.

He disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the soft clattering of cabinets opening and closing as he rummages for something sweet for you as well as the familiar clinking of cups and the sound of water hitting the bottom of the kettle. The comforting rhythm of those sounds gives you a moment of solace, allowing you to let your body sink back into the couch, still cradling the cushion against your chest.

You close your eyes again, letting your mind wander as you anticipate the moment Spencer returns. You feel a little guilty for making him work for your comfort the second he comes back home from work, the drive from Quantico is long, but he was the one who asked. And the thought of him moving around the kitchen, searching for that little bit of happiness on your behalf, brings a flicker of warmth to your heart and you have every intention of sharing your chocolate with him.

A few minutes later, you hear his footsteps returning and he appears with your chocolate and a big cup of tea, the steam rising in delicate tendrils and the pleasant minty scent wafting through the air. “I read that peppermint tea can help with cramps. It’s supposed to be soothing.” He hands you the mug with delicate care, his fingers lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary. “Here you go,” he says, his tone casual, but you notice the way his eyes linger a little longer on you, taking in the moment.

You take the cup from him, the warmth radiating through the ceramic and into your hands. You can’t help but feel a little bit like the luckiest person in the world as you settle back against the cushions. There’s something about the way he takes care of you—whether it’s tea for cramps or the endless supply of random trivia that somehow always manages to make you smile—that makes your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease. He smiles back at you, the slight curve of his lips lighting up his face and making your heart race just a little faster.

“Of course,” he replies, settling down on the couch beside you, the cushions shifting slightly under his weight. He reaches for the remote, flicking through the options before finally deciding on an old classic—something light-hearted to distract you both.

You take a sip of the tea, letting the comforting warmth seep into your bones. As you do, Spencer settles on the couch next to you, his presence a comforting weight of safety and familiarity as you take the chocolate bar Spencer had brought from the kitchen, breaking it in two and handing the slightly bigger piece to Spencer. A little smile gracing your lips as you watch him take the piece from your hand, and even amid your discomfort, the gesture feels like a tiny moment of victory. The simple act of sharing, of being taken care of, fills your heart with a warmth that competes with the soothing tea in your hands.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. You steal a glance at him, the way his curls fall slightly over his forehead, the way he occasionally glances and smiles just for you—moments that seem small, yet mean everything.

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hannieehaee · 1 year ago

Text

18 + / mdi

content: boyfriend!mingyu & bf'sbestfriend!wonwoo, smut, afab reader, cucking (idk if this is the right term honestly), penetrative sex, mentions of oral, pov switches to wonwoo's pov like three paragraphs in, this is mostly wonwoo x reader ngl, etc.

part 2

wc: 3343

a/n: this is a continuation to mingyu's part of this reaction !!

masterlist

you'd known wonwoo for a good while now. being mingyu's girlfriend for over a year, you'd grown used to the company of his roommate, who was usually around whenever you'd go visit mingyu at their shared apartment.

it was easy to get along with wonwoo. he was an easy-going guy and also easy on the eyes, and just overall likable. you liked to think that the feeling was mutual, wanting to get along well with mingyu's best friend. you'd occasionally hang out one on one whenever you'd incidentally arrive to mingyu's apartment early, only to be let in by wonwoo. he was a gentleman, so he'd entertain you during mingyu's absence, telling you stories about the boy and at some points discussing shared interests with you.

what you didnt know was that wonwoo did like you. more than you wouldve hoped, actually.

wonwoo had known you for as long as mingyu, having been there when the two of you first met. the three of you had started off as simple acquaintances, up until mingyu decided he just had to have you, thus making you his. wonwoo had been happy for his friend, knowing mingyu to be a hopeless romantic at heart. yes, he admits, he mightve been attracted to you when you first met, but he quickly got over it upon finding out his best friend had a crush on you, even encouraging him to ask you out. having you in his immediate life proved to be interesting. it turned out that you two had a lot in common, with your personalities even aligning perfectly. that mightve explained why he was mingyu's best friend and you his best friend's girlfriend. mingyu clearly had a type.

over time, as wonwoo got to know you better, his long-gone crush seemed to want to make a comeback. what had previously been just physical attraction had turned into something more upon getting to know you. nothing ever happened to trigger his feelings, but there was only so much of your constant proximity that he could handle before his feelings resurfaced. which is where he now found himself. crushing on his best friend's pretty girlfriend, forced to occasionally join in on your dates as the perpetual third wheel.

despite any of his unreasonable emotions, he knew the feeling was not mutual, and more than that, he would never do that to his best friend. so, he did what any reasonable person would do and shoved his feelings deep within him, internally slapping himself any time his head went places it shouldn't. but that could only last so long.

it was a regular day. wonwoo had gone to the company, done his usual idol business and come back, now awaiting mingyu's arrival. except wonwoo was met with your presence instead. wonwoo had been expecting mingyu, remembering that he had told the boy about a movie they should watch together as soon as they had some extra down time. that day being today, now that they were finally back from promotions in japan and could go back to their regular schedules. he opened the door after hearing a few knocks, assuming mingyu mightve misplaced his keys again. except he was not met with his six foot tall friend upon opening the door, but instead you. it had been a while since he'd seen you. hell, it had probably been a while since mingyu had seen you. theyd just been so busy lately. he let you in, muttering a quick 'hello', avoiding eye contact a bit and stepping aside to allow you in. before he could close the door back up, you stopped him.

"oh, wait. gyu's coming up. he got us food for the movie!"

oh. had mingyu asked you to join?

his face mustve told on him, since you spoke up again almost immediately.

"is it okay im here? i can go, i know you guys are tired, i-"

the last thing he wanted you to feel was unwelcome. his stupid crush shouldnt get in the way of what was now a friendship between the two of you.

"no! stay, please. do you guys want privacy? we just came back, you must wa-"

this time you interrupted him. "no, not at all! stay, please. i love hanging out with you, nonu, you know that."

calling him by a cute nickname was not helping this for wonwoo, nor was the pretty smile you were throwing him. but he'd have to sit through an entire movie night like this, he realized.

the following thirty or so minutes went the way you'd imagine. mingyu had arrived soon after, with way too much food for three people and prepared the perfect setting for an enjoyable night between the three. wonwoo could tell his friend was beaming at the thought of finally spending a relaxing night with his two favorite people. this made him feel guilty, but he had to admit, he felt the same giddyness at the concept. in logical fashion, you and mingyu sat next to each other, slightly cuddled up while wonwoo sat on the smaller couch right next to the two of you. the three of you watched the movie for a little while, only ever speaking up every once in a while to comment on the movie. things went like this until mingyu suddenly spoke up, clapping his hands as if he suddenly remembered something.

"won! i almost forgot!", he paused the movie, sitting up from leaning against you, "i told y/n id show her the pictures we took in japan, come here!", his friend seemed so overly excited at the idea, almost vibrating as be waited for wonwoo to come sit next to him.

wonwoo made the mistake of moving his eyes a little to the left while looking at his friend, only to catch your expectant gaze as you also waited for him to close the distance. but it was enough to get him to get up and take a close seat next to mingyu, making the tall man the only separation between you and him.

mingyu had already pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery and stopping every few seconds to explain where the picture was, who took it and why they had edited it the way they did. he explained every minor detail while you looked at him, full attention on him. wonwoo liked that about you. it was something you did when speaking to him too. you'd always show full interest, even sharing a passion for photography and editing as he did. there had been occasions in which wonwoo himself had shown you his photography, only to be always met with praise and genuine curiosity at his skill.

they both explained the pictures, with mingyu holding the phone at an angle where both you and wonwoo could see the screen perfectly. mingyu had full control of the phone, not thinking much as he stopped by every single picture and made a few comments, allowing space each time for wonwoo's own commentary and your praise of their skills. it was a heartwarming moment for wonwoo, really. until it turned into a moment that warmed something else in him.

mingyu, in his overexcited state, was clearly not thinking much of it as he swiped picture after picture, not realizing that if he scrolled too far, he'd end up where he was now.

it was a picture of you. a very pretty picture, if wonwoo had anything to say about it. you were laying in what he could only assume to be mingyu's bed, shirt off and very very cute sheer panties covering your lower half. your face wasnt in it, only your lips. but your body was practically on full display. wonwoo had to commend you for your artistic eye. that picture could cause any man to swim across the pacific ocean just to see the contents of it in the flesh. or at least thats how wonwoo felt in that moment. time felt frozen as he stared at the image. silence had filled the room as none of you reacted. until mingyu finally unfroze, locking his phone and throwing it on the table, cursing loudly at his mistake. but the damage had been done.

wonwoo felt ashamed at his current state. he couldnt look up, only staring down at his lap as he thought of the image that was now imprinted in mind. why did he have to see that? his crush on you was already getting out of hand. there was no way be could ever look you in the eye again. but his brain, once more, betrayed him. he looked up slowly, instantly meeting your gaze. you looked as flustered as he felt, eyes widened and cheeks flushed. fuck. your face reminded him of one he had seem before. a few months back when he'd accidentally bumped into you after what he couldve only assumed to be a night well-spent with his best friend, same flushed cheeks and widened eyes, except this time you were missing the disheveled look you had carried that time.

you and wonwoo seemed unable to break eye contact, with both your gazes becoming heavier by the second. what had felt to wonwoo like minutes of agony staring into your eyes were only a few seconds to mingyu, who immediately spoke up after having thrown his phone on the table.

"baby, i'm so fucking sorry, i-" he had turned his body towards you, emphasizing how badly he felt at the position he put you under, but your eyes hadnt left wonwoo's, nor had his left yours.

you interrupted him, only breaking eye contact with wonwoo for a few seconds. "it's okay, gyu," your eyes now facing wonwoo again, "right, nonu?", your voice was sultry, only tightening up his pants even more than the initial shock of the image had.

"y-yeah."

mingyu seemed to catch on quickly after that, almost as if he'd been expecting this. he turned to his friend, still not 100% certain, "wonwoo. are you sure?"

there had been nothing wonwoo had ever been more sure about it. he broke eye contact with you for the first time in the past minute and responded, "yes."

"there's gonna be rules, okay?"

the three of you were now in mingyu's (and practically your) room, still fully clothed but all on the bed, already completely out of breath from the mere thought of what was about to happen. wonwoo felt like an animal. he felt himself have to put physical effort into holding back from jumping you. the way you'd been looking at him for the past while had him going insane, knowing now that the feeling was mutual.

"what are the rules?", wonwoo's eyes were still on you.

"any-" mingyu was about to speak when you interrupted him, still holding onto wonwoo's full attention.

"anything goes, except no marks and you have to be willing to share me. gyu's a bit possessive, right baby?", you stated matter-of-factly, almost in a rehearsed manner.

"wait. you've discussed this before?"

mingyu neared you, beginning to undress you from behind, giving wonwoo the perfect view of your clothing disappearing. 'we have. you're not exactly subtle, hyung.'

what? had you two known about his crush on you this whole time? he was so sure he'd kept it at bay almost expertly. had he just been embarrassing himself this whole time?

"its okay, nonu. we've discussed this. we're okay with it if you are. right, gyu?", you looked over your shoulder at the man who had now removed your shirt and shorts, leaving you in panties and a bra, much to wonwoo's dismay.

"i- are you sure? what does this mean? you-"

"hyung, dont over think it. you want her, dont you? you're my best friend, im willing to share."

well, what kind of fool would argue with that logic?

wonwoo decided to take advantage of the opportunity while it was there, approaching you as mingyu stepped aside, undressing his own self as he watched you and wonwoo.

wonwoo was entirely unsure of himself, not knowing how or where to begin. luckily for him, you seemed to take pity on him, grabbing his arms and placing them on your waist, pulling him closer to you.

"you dont have to be nervous. i want you too," you smiled sweetly at him, lifting his chin so he would look at you.

the proximity made him heat up, almost forgetting his friend, who had now sat down on the bed, perfect angle to watch him and you.

you leaned up slowly, lightly placing your lips on wonwoo's in a sweet peck. wonwoo sighed against your lips at this, letting his shoulders fall from their rigid posture and leaning against you, opening his lips a bit. you took advantage of this, meekly slipping your tongue inside his mouth as he tightened his hands around your waist, allowing his own tongue to play with yours.

kissing you was something he had imagined before; never too vividly out of respect for his best friend, but it was something he had wanted to do, never thinking he'd actually get to.

you and him kissed softly for a while, until you seemed to grow frustrated at the light kisses and began to incite him for more. your kissing became rougher, nibbling at his lower lip and sucking at his tongue, rendering him lightheaded. he moaned against your mouth, beginning to match your pase. he moaned even louder the moment he felt your hands guide his own to your breasts, which were now bare. when had you taken your bra off ..? it didn't matter, really. now he could feel the pebbles on your chest against his palms, pinching at them as you mewled softly into bis mouth. all that could be heard was the smacking of your mouths, along with the soft breaths you kept taking against each other, utterly pleased at the feeling of the softness of the other's lips.

until mingyu interrupted.

suddenly soft moaning could be heard from beside them. wonwoo reluctantly pulled away from you, looking to the side, only to find his best friend with his eyes closed, head thrown back as he had his hand under his boxers, clearly getting off at the sounds of the two of you. you didnt stop kissing wonwoo in the meantime, insistent on licking and biting softly against his neck. the softness of your touches was making wonwoo go insane. he was no longer himself, but more of a shell of what used to be, wanting to give you all control of his pleasure. which he did.

he allowed you to undress him slowly, running your hands slowly up and down his chest, kissing at him every time you uncovered a new bit of skin. you bit and licked at his nipples, making wonwoo discover a sensitive spot he didnt even know about.

he enjoyed your attentiveness, but felt a small tug in the back of his mind at the thought of your boyfriend sitting nearby, simply watching.

"gyu, baby," you finally said after having laid wonwoo down on the bed, sitting on top of him while looking to the side at your boyfriend, "how do you wanna do this?"

wonwoo simply sat there, afraid that if he said anything he'd break the spell. he was willing to take whatever you gave him. he was already addicted to the sight of your bare body on top of him, somehow beating the picture he had seen just twenty minutes ago.

"do whatever you want, baby. have your fun n then ill eat his cum out of you n fill you with mine, sound good?", he slurred, seemingly rubbing at himself at a snail pace in order to savor the sight in front of him.

in any other instance, wonwoo wouldnt have understood why mingyu was getting off at the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend fucking, but it was you. wonwoo would also give anything to see you in the throes of passion from a third person perspective, so he felt no judgement for his friend as he practically tuned him out.

"you heard him, nonu. how do you want me?", you asked sweetly, caressing his skin softly while stopping to rub at his nipples every once in a while.

wonwoo was fucked. he felt the ability to speak leave him completely. he was rendered completely useless, a doll for you to play with however you wanted. but his sight right now was one he wanted to commit to memory, so mustering all his willpower, he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, pressing you closer against him.

"like this, baby. please," that earned a whine from gyu, who was still self-inflicting the most painful pleasure imaginable by edging himself at the sight of you.

he humphed at wonwoo, "no! get a different pet name. shes my baby."

wonwoo chuckled at this, but nodded over at his friend. "fine. like this, princess. yeah?"

you nodded at wonwoo, quickly adjusting yourself so you could easily slip him inside you, but only after being interrupted by mingyu again, reminding you to slip on a condom, "because you were only his to fuck raw."

"gyu, baby. like this? have a good angle? need me to move?"

"no, baby. you're perfect. now bounce on him for me, yeah? wanna see my pretty girl feel good," all his words were slurred, going on almost ten minutes of watching yours and wonwoo's foreplay.

"'kay baby. are you ready, nonu? wanna feel me?", you leaned down to kiss at him again, seemingly loving the feeling of your lips connecting as much as wonwoo did.

he nodded, felling you up as be awaited the upcoming feeling of your warmth wrapping around him.

your descent drove wonwoo insane. he doesnt think he's ever moaned that loudly before, nor does he think he's ever seen a prettier sight than your blissed out face as you felt him fill you up. the contrast of your movements right now compared to your soft touches earlier was laughable. it seemed like something had possessed you, making you bounce and grind on wonwoo at an animalistic pace, moaning incessantly at the feeling of his cock filling you up.

wonwoo was different from you, as his reaction was just pure bliss from the feeling of you, humping upwards with a lack of rhythm; just animalistic instinct to get himself as deep inside you as possible.

mingyu could be heard moaning from the background. you'd occasionally disconnect your eyes from wonwoo's form to make eyes at your boyfriend, giving him even more material for jacking off.

it went on like this until you began to near your end, which is when wonwoo believes he went truly insane. you began to grind at an angle that would bring gratification to your clit, practically crying on his cock. your hands went up to play with your nipples, stimulating yourself as much as possible. wonwoo wanted nothing more than to make you meet your end, grabbing harsher onto your hips and guiding your movements. he leaned up to kiss and suck at your tits, making you throw your head back and quicken your movements even more. you were in heaven and so was he. mingyu seemed to be too, as when wonwoo peeked a look at him he was practically crosseyed at the sight of you, arched back whining on his friend's cock.

your ends found you almost simultaneously. mingyu had been first, finally allowing himself to reach his high after edging himself for so long. soon followed wonwoo, spilling into the condom, causing you to cum at the sight of his pleasure. it took a bit for all of you to catch your breaths, staying silent for a bit until wonwoo broke the silence.

"shit. please tell me this isnt a one time thing."

you and gyu giggled at each other. wonwoo hoped that was a good sign.

a/n: lol lmk if u want a cont. with gyu's part

2K notes · View notes

crguang · 5 months ago

Text

wasted with longing

You and Kafka have a simple, superficial relationship that benefits you both. You should have known that nothing is ever simple when she’s involved.

friends with benefits, smut, afab!reader, gp!kafka, vaginal penetration, blowjob, dom!kafka, 4.5k words

A/N: fuckboy kafka is real and we should all be running… towards her🤣 this will be a series! i’ll fine tune it when i wake up but this is for my very excited anons and mutuals <3

part two

this is the collective playlist, i’m still adding songs as i go: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4fNHJsbeJLC49Fa8ACVOwW?si=pgaCSUzVTgmXZ8OuQJWLKA&pi=u-9uwba0QiQlWH

You push open the door to your apartment with a tired sigh and step inside. Freeing your feet from the new boots you bought days before feels heavenly, you’re still breaking them in and the process is almost torturous, often leaving you sore by the evening. You put on the slippers you discarded that morning as you shrug off your jacket, placing it back into the tiny closet near the front door. The lights are off but you don’t bother turning them on, instead, you make a beeline for your bedroom and flick that switch on. It’s late, around 11 PM, and you’re itching for a shower before collapsing into bed after spending the afternoon on your feet. You open the window a crack to let the breeze in, seeing as the summer nights tend to leave you sweating. You discard some of your clothing on the way to the bathroom, holding onto them to throw them in the laundry basket next to the sink. Standing in your underwear, you turn on the shower and adjust its settings to room temperature before removing your clothes. You’re grateful for the peaceful moment when you step into the shower, simply letting the water hit your face and soak your body.

Today was particularly challenging; your boss was a jerk your whole shift, more demanding than usual, and you’d promised some friends that you would go out with them after work even though you just wanted to be home by then. Forcing yourself to socialize is mentally taxing and often leaves you with a headache at the end of the night, too. Under the refreshing water, you feel the knots of your muscles loosen slowly as if smoothed out by warm, gentle hands. Your head tilts towards the shower head. For a few minutes, you wash away the weight of the day, focusing on the pitter-patter in your ears deafening you to all but your thoughts. An impulsive one passes by, meant to be fleeting but it solidifies in your head until you can’t help but entertain the idea.

You wonder what Kafka is doing, if she’d come running if you called the way she often does once the sun sets. She’s been busy lately, you think; you haven’t heard from her in around two weeks and you’ve been too preoccupied with work to bother checking on her. You don’t know what she does for a living, only that your palms brush against new cuts across her skin every once in a while. The acknowledgment of their presence goes unsaid like many other things, locked in a messy closet to which you both hold the key yet refuse to organize. Still, she’s skilled in the ways of your body and works you out like no one else can, so you ignore a lot about her to prioritize how relaxed you feel after a couple of hours with her. Some parts of you, your heart and fingertips, twitch to understand her absences and inconsistencies. You try not to dwell on that confusing desire for too long lest you come to a conclusion you don’t like. Kafka’s enigmatic, she’s mysterious and rehearsed as to always keep the upper hand in whatever war she’s implicated in like the world is an open minefield and she can’t afford a single misstep. Every semblance of genuine conversation about her turns into a game she has to win and you’re getting tired of playing along. However… you have to admit that you could use the distraction tonight.

The thought doesn’t leave you as you finish washing yourself and step out of the shower with a clean towel around your frame. You look for your phone once in the bedroom, picking it up from where it was discarded on your dresser, then sit at the edge of your bed. It takes a bit of scrolling through your recent conversations to find Kafka’s contact. You refrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the last texts you’ve exchanged. She can’t be relied on for your impromptu needs and you wish the opposite was true as well, but you’ve learned to make yourself available whenever she seeks you out. It’s pathetic, you tell yourself, even as your thumbs hover over the screen’s keyboard. You recline on the mattress with a sigh and hold your phone above you, wondering if you should do this. It’s late, and though that’s usually when you see each other, Kafka has the habit of not replying until hours later. It’s irritating, especially when you scroll up to her last messages and notice how quickly you always answer them. You toss your phone on the bed and cover your face with your hands. You swallow a scream.

“Embarrassing, embarrassing,” you mutter to yourself, “no dignity at all.”

As you question your life choices and consider blocking Kafka’s number to make yourself feel more in control than you are, your phone buzzes with a notification. You turn on your stomach to pick it up, tapping open the screen.

You stare at the most recent text for almost a full minute before closing the device and sitting up straight. The coincidence of her messaging you while you’re debating whether you should text her first leaves you reeling for a moment. You hesitate, fiddling with the phone in your hands. You want to leave her waiting like she often does to you, but… Excitement creeps up your spine at the thought of seeing her. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why not take what you need from her and send her on her way? This is what she’s good for, it’s how she regards you as well, so you give in to your impulses and craft the perfect text. Kafka’s reply comes almost instantly.

You can’t deny the flutter in your gut but you sure as hell can ignore it.

You make sure to be ready before Kafka comes knocking at your door. You lather yourself with your favourite lotion before pulling a tank top over your head and putting on pyjama shorts. You clean up around your apartment even if she never lingers long enough to get a good look at it, picking up dirty laundry and clearing the dishes. You don’t see the minutes tick by as you do your best to seem presentable. You check your teeth in the bathroom mirror, decide to brush them because you don’t have any mint, then tap your cheeks a couple of times, tilting your chin this way and that. You’re looking at your nails, wondering if you should clip them since they’re getting a bit long, when the doorbell rings.

You take measured steps towards the front door so as not to look too eager and shake your head at your antics. You turn the handle, revealing Kafka’s nonchalant expression on the other side of the door. She smiles at the sight of you, clad in her usual tight clothes and custom-made coat, and you have to suppress one from betraying your thoughts as you take her in. She does the same to you, gaze appreciatively raking over your figure before she even greets you. She still has makeup on, hiding the fatigue you know rests under her eyes, and she’s holding on to her pair of gloves instead of wearing them. You think she probably wrapped up whatever it is that she does and came to your apartment right afterwards.

You open the door wider and step to the side so she can come in. “You look tired.”

Kafka walks in and closes the door behind her with a foot. Her smile widens a touch, a self-assured edge to it. Her head tilts— you watch the loose strands of hair follow the movement— and her eyes drop to your chest for a deliberate second then lift to meet yours. “You look beautiful as ever.”

You don’t hide the annoyed roll of your eyes. You turn your back on her to lead her further into the apartment. She follows, slipping off her coat from her shoulders and discarding it on a sofa in the living room.

“You got rid of the painting?”

You look at where she stopped in front of the couch. She points to the far wall with her chin as she lays her gloves on top of her coat. You stand, dumbfounded. You used to have an abstract painting hung on that wall but stored it to install a TV instead. You’re mostly surprised she noticed; her lips are usually on yours instants after she’s stepped through the door.

“It’s here somewhere,” you gesture vaguely to the room.

“Mm… This coffee table’s different, too.”

“You broke the glass of the other one the last time you were here.”

Something in the way she glances at you, a cocky glint in her eyes, tells you she remembers.

“Right. What was it you said that night— ‘Don’t you dare stop?’”

You know Kafka revels in the flash of irritation that creases the bridge of your nose.

“I don’t remember that.”

“No?”

She makes her way to you, fingertips trailing on the back of the couch and amusement shining through her contacts, dusty pink swallowing the lilac at their edges, reminding you of carefully plucked calla lilies. Her slender fingers cup your jaw to tilt your chin, the nail of her index sliding across your skin, and you meet her stare with practiced ease. You hate how easily the anticipation of her touch heats the embers in your belly and you can’t stand knowing that she’s aware of her effect on you. Kafka brings you closer until all you care to see is the lustful, rosy shades of her irises. Her gaze lowers to the curves of your mouth.

“Need a reminder?” Her murmur is felt on your lips like the warm, inviting breeze wafting through the open windows.

You hook a finger under the waistband of her shorts and tug her forward. “Guess so.”

Her low chuckle is cut off by the kiss you plant on her lips. Kafka indulges your control over her, lets you back her up against the wall and pull her close with a hand around her neck. Her arm snakes around your waist, your body pressed to hers. She tastes sweet, like a sugary drink or a juicy fruit, and your tongue slips into her mouth to taste her fully. She welcomes it readily and allows it to swirl around hers before you feel her fingers curl around your throat. The pace shifts, hungry and hurried, as she effortlessly takes over the kiss, momentarily taking your breath away. You’re forced to follow her lead and exhale through your nose when she doesn’t release you. The hand on the back of her neck travels down her collarbone, pulling on the leather strap of her outfit so it slaps against her once you let go, and the hum that sounds from her throat softens your bones until you’re putty in her hands. Her shirt crumples in your grip while your fingertips tease the buttons of her shorts. Your world is reduced to the soft caress of her tongue in your mouth and the growing bulge beneath your palm.

Her hold on your neck relaxes slightly and you pull away enough to regulate your breathing. You stroke her over her clothes, drawing a sharp intake of breath from her. A pleased smile makes its way onto your face and your eyes blink open to stare at her swollen, peach lips.

“Someone’s happy to see me.”

Kafka traces the hollow of your throat with a rounded nail, smiling amusedly at your teasing tone. “Mmm.”

“Two weeks and a little kiss gets you worked up?”

“Were you counting?”

“Please. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You unclasp the buttons of her shorts and pull them down her waist to reveal the band of her pantyhose, toying with it and sighing in faux exasperation. “I suppose I could help.”

“Yeah?”

Kafka stares at you, anticipation in the way her lips unconsciously part, and you retain her lustful gaze as you withdraw from her body to put your hair up using the hair tie on your wrist. You raise a playful eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, and her eyes narrow a touch at your cockiness. She doesn’t say a word, though, simply watches you lower yourself to your knees with that smile that says she’ll wipe that expression off your face soon enough. You start with her thigh-high boot, zipping it down to get it out of the way, then grip the edges of both her pantyhose and shorts to slide them off the rest of the way at once. Her layers annoy you on nights when your need is greater than your patience, but you enjoy teasing her like this; testing the elasticity of her boxers’ waistband, running the pads of your fingers over the thin fabric and along the thick of her bulge, pressing leisure, open-mouthed kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. Kafka is a patient woman, her hand tangles in your hair but doesn’t pull. Her heavy stare makes you feel powerful despite being the one on your knees, she either doesn’t bother to hide her desire or she can’t— regardless, you’re her only way towards sweet release and she has no choice but to grant your petty wishes.

Your lips trace the outline of her length over her underwear. One hand cups her between her legs while the other kneads her plush thigh. You delight in the little hums Kafka doesn’t care to contain as you pepper kisses on her clothed cock, a thumb gently massaging her balls until you feel her twitch under your lips. Still, she doesn’t tell you to hurry along or pressure you in any way. Knowing that her cool demeanor is an act fuels the satisfaction in your gut. You pull at her boxers and free her hard cock, refraining from biting your lip at the sight of its prominent vein. You follow its pattern with your mouth and use a hand to curl around her base, eyes fluttering shut. You’ve done this so often, licked long stripes up to her tip and stroked her sensitive skin with teasing touches, that the feel of her against you is engraved in your gray matter. Your tongue swirls around her leaking tip to collect her pre-cum before taking her into your mouth. Kafka is so big you have to use your fingers to stroke what can’t fit past your lips. The weight of her cock on your tongue makes you so incredibly wet, you feel arousal trickling down your inner thigh. Her hips buck forward and her hand caresses your hair in a manner so fond you’d mistake her lust for care if you didn’t know any better. You work her up with quiet, muffled moans around her dick and she guides you down her length with one hand, unable to tear her eyes from your pretty face as you suck her off. You take as much of her as you can, feel the head brushing the back of your throat every few thrusts of her hips, and revel in the short, throaty moans spilling from Kafka’s lips.

“Mmhh… How pretty you look with your mouth full,” she manages to tease you in between low gasps, smugness dripping from her words. You give her sensitive tip a particularly harsh suck and bask in the uncontrolled jerk of her hips.

You look up at the crease between her brows and the rapid rise of her chest, her audible pants intoxicating you. With her head tilted to gaze down at you, strands of magenta hang in the air like threads of silk. You squeeze her base once to draw a longer moan from her. The taste of her bypasses your every thought, and you can only focus on her throbbing, wet cock filling your mouth. You stroke her with the same hungry pace, occasionally squeezing your thighs together to appease the heat between your legs. She’s so hard, so needy, you can’t help the indignant whine that escapes you when her fingers grip your hair and pull you away from her dick. A thin string of saliva connects her head to your tongue and breaks with the distance, falling onto your chin.

“Don’t pout, you’ll get your fill,” Kafka smiles despite her heavy breathing, urging you to stand with her hold on your head, “I’ll make sure of it.”

A tinge of irritation surges in your bloodstream at the cocky edge of her tone and the way your pussy aches for her touch. Her nose brushes yours once you’re on your feet, warm breath fanning over your lips. You hate that you want her, that your body responds to her by melting into hers as she steals the air in your lungs with a single heady kiss. You hate the way your thighs part almost immediately to allow her wandering hand better access to your cunt. You hate the amused chuckle that leaves her when she realizes you’re not wearing any underwear and rubs between your slit with a finger. And yet, you only get wetter under her ministrations, brows twisting with the pleasure she’s giving you. Her digit withdraws from your slick pussy, glimmering with your arousal, and Kafka stares at you with lidded eyes as she brings it to her lips to suck it clean. The wet sound of her mouth sends a jolt straight to your core. You need her to fuck you so badly, you can barely think before grasping the leather strap under her collarbones to pull her forward.

Your lips meet in a messy, heated kiss, her salty taste on your tongue and your slick on hers. You stumble down the hallway, losing pieces of clothing along the way, until you reach the bedroom and Kafka firmly pushes you down onto the bed with a hand on your bare chest. Her mouth is locked with yours and you feel her touch on your hips, across your waist, over your ribcage where your heart drums for her. Her thumb applies pressure on your erect nipple, drawing a needy sigh from you. You sneak around her chest to unclasp her bra and she assists you in sliding it off her arms to discard it on the floor. Her cock presses against your thigh while she teases your nipple between two fingers. You know you’re ruining the sheets beneath you but you can’t bring yourself to care; you get more desperate with every minute she’s not buried inside you, unable to contain the quiet whimpers that escape you.

“Kafka…” you breathe out in a whine, aware of how much it turns her on to hear her name out your lips. Her cock throbs on your thigh at the sound.

She plants kisses down your jaw and pinches your nipple a couple of times, the feeling delicious yet not enough. Her hum rumbles through her chest, “Mmm… Pleading already?”

Aeons, she’s infuriating. You wrap a leg around her waist and her length rests on your slit, but you bite the flesh of your cheek to keep in a breathy moan, not wanting to inflate her ego more than it already is. Kafka reaches down to rub her tip between your lower lips, almost groaning as your slick mixes with the saliva from your tongue. Your lungs stutter and you suck in a breath, nails digging into the expanse of her back. Her head grazes your aching clit, you arch further into her to repeat the action. It feels so good you forget all about who you’re dealing with until she speaks up again.

Kafka’s licks a broad stripe up your neck, then her mouth brushes the skin of your jaw on its way to your earlobe, pressing a kiss just below.

“You’re dripping…” Though her voice is close to your eardrums, you barely register the words she utters, lost in the pleasure of your clit sliding against the thick of her cock. “How much do you want this, mm?”

There’s a lick on the cartilage of your ear before she pulls away to look at you through the dull pink of her irises, eyelids heavy. The movement of her dick on your pussy comes to halt and it takes you losing that relieving friction to understand that she expects an answer.

“W-What?”

“Did you miss me this much?”

Your heel digs into her lower back to pull her closer, but her lips simply stretch into a knowing, teasing smile. She presses her tip against your twitching clit once, delighting in the flutter of her eyelashes and the beginnings of a needy moan that you refuse to let her hear.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, but even you have to admit that your sentence lacks conviction or venom.

“Mm…” Kafka guides the tip of her cock to your gushing entrance and your next inhale gets caught in your throat. “Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“You w— Hah—!”

She pushes the head inside you, feeling you clench instinctively at the intrusion, and lets out a sigh of pleasure as your warm, tight cunt welcomes her cock. She watches a quiver go through your bottom lip and briefly bites her own. One hand digs into the plush of your love handle, the other sinks into the bedsheets next to your head. She slides another inch into you and your fingers tangle in her locks, tugging at the sensation of her length inside you, stretching you so well a breathless gasp spills from your mouth. Her smile is smug, pleased at your silence, and you swallow as you muster the strength to speak. Kafka leans closer, the tip of her nose against your cheek and her breath warming your skin. Slowly, she bottoms out completely and gives you a moment to adjust to the fullness. Something in the way her pants falter occasionally tells you that she needs that pause too. Her lips are on your jaw in a kiss way too soft, too gentle to be from her; her who means nothing to you aside from the pleasure she provides you.

“I missed you.”

You feel a buzzing sensation in your lower belly that has nothing to do with her cock nestled in your cunt. The words are murmured like a confession but you know they aren’t one, Kafka means to provoke you so that she can put you in your place, a game you’ve played since the day you met. You can’t explain why it’s as if your heartstrings are plucked and manipulated like those of an instrument, its melody disorganized and disharmonious. You don’t understand the sudden irritation that mixes with your arousal, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tug at her hair and her head follows the movement backwards, lips parting.

“I hate you,” you manage to utter through gritted teeth, and you’re frustrated to find that there’s no truth in what you’ve said.

Kafka’s growing grin turns mocking. “Aww. But you’re sucking me in…”

To prove her point, she withdraws from you just to thrust back in, her tip hitting that sensitive spot inside you. Her length rubs your walls with every thrust of her hips, rendering you speechless aside from the quiet whimpers that fall from your tongue, and your anger fades away, replaced by the desperate need to come. Your fingers messily swipe at your clit and your nails paint crescent moons on her back from how tightly you’re holding on to her body. Despite her own need, Kafka is determined to pull more lovely sounds from you. Her pace is tantalizingly slow but harsh in the way you prefer as she fills you to the brim. You feel her all around you, her lips on your jaw, the pads of her fingers sinking into your flesh, her cock buried deep inside your fluttering cunt. Her low moans and short groans hit your ears in sinful sounds that only make you wetter. Her breasts are flushed to yours, following the rocking of her hips.

“Fuck, fuck—“ you babble breathily, lost in the pleasure, “more…”

You don’t register Kafka manhandling you with an arm around your waist so that you’re straddling her lap instead, only that the change in position allows her to drive deeper into you. You moan brokenly as she grabs your hips and guides you down onto her cock in one go. Your thighs tremble, aching, and your orgasm is imminent. Kafka groans into your shoulder, bouncing you on her dick, the taut coil in her belly begging to snap. Your slick trickles down her length and your wet pussy swallows her cock, you clench around her like you dread she’ll pull out before you can come. She uses a palm to apply pressure on your lower stomach, feeling the faint outline of her bulge inside you, and the sensation pushes you over the edge. You cream on her cock with a cry. Your head tilts back and Kafka leans away from your shoulder to gaze at your cum drenching her girth. She knows how sensitive you get after an orgasm, can feel you twitch against her with the aftershocks, but she can’t help jerking her hips upwards to fuck your cum back into your pussy. She wants to see her own cum merge with yours until you’re so full of her that you’re gushing.

“Kafka—!” You gasp out, fingers gripping her loose ponytail, “W-Wait…”

She shushes you with an insistent kiss. She’s close, guiding your hips up and down her throbbing cock. With a particularly harsh thrust, that familiar coil in her stomach finally breaks and her cum spills into you in hot, intense spurts against your inner walls. It’s too much for you to handle even as her thrusts stutter, yet a second orgasm builds inside you, quick and desperate; your body moves on its own accord, further stimulating you and drawing a long, drawn out moan out of you. Kafka’s lips are parted and you miss the sheen in her eyes as she stares up at you unashamedly riding her until you come around her dick a second time.

You’re both coming down from your high some time later, your eyes are shut and the pace of your rising chest slows down enough for you to take deep breaths. Kafka is a comforting presence beside you on the bed, and like you do with many things, you ignore the warmth that is born from your chest and spreads across your torso. A welcomed kind of exhaustion creeps up on you, almost pulling you into a dream, but you hear Kafka move next to you so you turn your head to look at her. She’s fixing her hair, putting back locks of magenta into her ponytail. She feels your gaze on her and meets your eyes with a small smile. There’s that twitch of your heart and fingertips again at the sight of the soft glow of her sweaty skin under your bedroom lights.

“You look exhausted,” her tone lacks its usual teasing edge but you’re too tired to notice, “I’ll use the shower and lock behind me with the spare key. You should sleep. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

You don’t say anything to that. You stare at the ceiling as the shower is turned on in the background.

Kafka doesn’t text the next day.

#honkai star rail #hsr kafka #hsr #hsr x reader #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr x you #hsr smut #kafka smut #dom!kafka

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51voices · 6 days ago

Text

Restless Desires

Kinkvember Day 5: In Heat

IVE's Kim Jiwon (Liz) x Gender Neutral reader

A delicate warmth brushes Liz's face, coaxing her out of sleep. She shifts beneath the sheets, feeling their softness around her like a lingering embrace. Her eyelids flutter open, and the blurred outlines of her room slowly sharpen as she blinks away the last dregs of sleep. Gentle light filters through the curtains, painting her bed in golden shades, almost as if she’s emerged into a new, tender world. With a slow breath, she senses the quiet hum of morning—the soft ticking of the clock, the faint rustle of the sheets, and the subtle, irresistible pull of something stirring within her.

Heat begins to stir low in her belly, a subtle spark that soon spreads like molten fire through her veins. Liz groans softly, a sound of half-hearted resistance mingled with surrender, as she tries to ignore the steady throb between her thighs. Not today, she thinks, rolling over and pulling the covers tighter around her, seeking comfort in her nest of warmth. But the sensation persists, creeping back with greater urgency, like an uninvited guest refusing to leave. Her skin tingles, her breaths quickening, as the fire inside her intensifies, insistent and unyielding—a force that refuses to be denied.

Frustration flickers in Liz's chest, a tiny ember amidst the growing blaze of her desire. She doesn’t want to start the day like this—needy, desperate for something only you can give her. The thought of your touch, the memory of your skin against hers, and the way a single look from you can ignite her longing make the ache impossible to ignore. Her fingers slide beneath the sheets, grazing over bare skin, tracing the contours of her body as if mapping uncharted territory. Even the lightest touch sends a ripple of pleasure through her—a shockwave that promises more but still isn’t enough. It’s like standing on the edge of a precipice, feeling the thrill of the fall without ever taking the leap.

This is ridiculous, she scolds herself, the inner voice a stern reminder amidst the clamoring of her body. It’s too early to feel so worked up. But as her fingers moved lower, skimming the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, a soft gasp escaped her lips. Her body hums, alive with desire, every nerve ending screaming for release. Yet no matter how hard she tries, the relief she craves is always just out of reach, a mirage dancing on the horizon, taunting her with its elusiveness.

After several minutes of futile attempts, Liz groans in frustration and throws the covers aside, the cool air of the room clashing with the heat burning inside her. She stomps into the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face, hoping the shock of it will douse the flames consuming her. But as she stares at her flushed reflection, droplets of water clinging to her cheeks, she knows the day has already been defined by the current of desire coursing through her. It’s a force too strong to be quelled by cold water or willpower. This part of her—a wild, untamed longing—yearns for connection, for the touch only you can provide.

Liz steps into the shower, letting the hot water stream over her skin, the heat a strange comfort that matches the fire pulsing beneath her surface. The steam wraps around her, blending with the tension she carries, momentarily giving her the illusion of release. But as the minutes pass, it becomes clear that no amount of scalding water can wash away the ache smoldering inside. Shutting off the stream, she wraps herself in a towel, droplets trailing like tiny reminders of her unrelieved need.

Accepting the truth that pulses within her, Liz acknowledges that the only way to find peace is to embrace the fire, to surrender to the longing that refuses to subside. Determined, she resolves to seek you out, knowing that only you hold the key to quenching the thirst burning inside her. After drying off, she pulls on simple undergarments, the fabric cool against her still-warm skin. She throws on an oversized sweater in an attempt to shield herself from the world, but the soft, loose fabric feels irritating against her heated body. Her shorts, normally a comfortable fit, now feel restrictive, a teasing reminder of the tension coiling within her. Even as she steps into the kitchen, Liz’s frustration has only deepened.

In the gentle calm of the kitchen, you sit at the table, fingers flying across your laptop keyboard. You looked focused, so absorbed in your work, and the sight sent a jolt through Liz, intensifying the throbbing between her legs. She bites her lip, momentarily stunned by the image of you deep in concentration, while her body vibrates with a need that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

“Morning,” she calls softly, attempting a casual tone.

You glance up, offering a warm smile. “Morning my love, how was your sleep?,” you reply before returning your focus to the screen, oblivious to the storm brewing within her.

With a hard gulp and her heart pounding as Liz crosses the room in quick strides. She leans down, planting a soft kiss on your lips, intending it as a brief touch of affection. But the instant her lips meet yours, the fire blazing inside her flares to life, overtaking any sense of restraint. The kiss deepens almost instinctively, her body pressing against yours, her fingers trembling as they cling to your shirt.

A soft, involuntary whimper escapes her, and she feels the tension in her own body shiver into the kiss. She needs this, needs you, the way a parched desert thirsts for rain. Every inch of her skin feels electrified, hyper-aware of your closeness, her pulse racing to match the quickening rhythm of her breath.

You pull back slightly, surprised, your eyes searching hers. “Baby? What—”

But she doesn’t let you finish. Driven by a hunger too strong to ignore, she grabs the front of your shirt with both hands and pulls you back, crashing her lips into yours with a fierce, undeniable need. Her fingers twist in the fabric, knuckles whitening as she clings to you, anchoring herself against the tidal wave of longing rising within her. The kiss is no longer gentle—it’s a desperate claim, a silent plea that her words can’t convey. Her mouth moves against yours insistently, each press of her lips more urgent than the last, her breath mingling with yours as she leans in, seeking every ounce of connection she can steal from this moment.

Her body seems to mold itself to yours, her hands slipping up to cradle the back of your neck, pulling you closer as though afraid of the slightest distance. Her pulse hammers in her veins, each beat fueling the fire burning brighter inside her, making it impossible to hold back. She pours every bit of her yearning into that kiss, the soft brush of her lips transforming into something raw and consuming, a desperation she can’t disguise or suppress.

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathless, and Liz’s face is flushed, her pupils wide with desire. She grins, heart pounding a wild rhythm that mirrors the frantic beat of her pulse. "Just... a good morning kiss," she teases, though her voice is husky, barely above a whisper, betraying the intensity of her desire.

You chuckle, shaking your head with a look of endearing exasperation. “Right... Maybe you should let me get back to work?”

Liz steps back, the fire inside her roaring even hotter at your words. She isn’t done—not even close. The kiss has only stoked the flames, and the tension in her body is becoming unbearable. She needs more, much more than a mere kiss.

As she busies herself preparing breakfast, Liz keeps glancing over at you. The sight of you working, which usually brings her comfort, now fills her with irritation. Is their work really that important? she wonders, feeling the heat twist in her stomach. Or are they just ignoring me? The thought fuels a potent mix of frustration and anticipation.

In a bold move, she leans over the counter, letting the sweater slip down her shoulder, exposing more skin than necessary. “Hey,” she calls, keeping her tone light and playful. “Do you think it’s normal to feel… really warm down there?”

You glance up, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “Warm? Like a fever?”

Liz chuckles, her heart racing with the thrill of her own audacity. “No, not like that... just... you know, hot.�� She lets the words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

Your expression is confused, and it only stokes her impatience. “Maybe it’s the weather,” you offer, looking back at your screen. “Should I open a window?”

Liz sighs, rolling her eyes as she turns back to the stove. Seriously? she thinks, already conjuring up a dozen ways to make you understand the heat she wants to share. The day is still young, and Liz is determined that the fire within her will not be doused by misunderstanding or indifference. Today, she’ll make sure you feel the heat, too.

After a cozy breakfast shared in the warm glow of morning light, Liz feels a familiar itch for a bit of fun. The soft clicks of your keyboard punctuate the quiet kitchen, your concentration clearly unbroken by her hints at distraction. She smiles to herself, deciding it’s time to turn things up a notch.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Liz unlocked her phone and scrolled through her carefully curated playlist until she found one of your favorite songs—an upbeat, toe-tapping melody known to get even the most stoic souls moving. As the lively tune filled the kitchen, she swayed her hips, casting a playful glance over her shoulder in your direction.

“Come on, you love this song!” she teased, her voice bubbling with infectious enthusiasm. She exaggerated her movements, swishing her hips dramatically as if inviting you to join her in a spontaneous dance. “Dance with me!”

You glanced up, offering a brief smile at her playful energy before your eyes returned to the screen. “I would love to, but I really need to finish this…” you replied, your tone laced with apology but unwavering in focus.

Undeterred, Liz spun on her toes, her hair fanning out as she twirled closer to you. “Oh, come on!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. “Just one dance. You know you can’t resist me!”

A soft chuckle slipped from you, clearly entertained by her antics, but your fingers resumed their quick tapping across the keyboard. “I really need to get this done,” you insisted, your focus still intact.

With an exaggerated huff, Liz threw her hands in the air, her eyes sparkling with renewed determination. She realized subtlety wasn’t going to work this time; she needed a different approach. So, with a sly smile, she scrolled through her phone again, selecting a slower, sultry track that filled the kitchen with a deep, sensual beat. She began moving to the rhythm, rolling her hips in a way she knew would be impossible for you to ignore.

The shift in tempo did not go unnoticed. Your fingers stilled momentarily, and your gaze lifted, following the hypnotic sway of her body. Liz noticed the flicker of interest in your eyes and smirked inwardly. Gotcha, her confidence started to build.

“What's more important, your work or me?” she whispered, stepping closer until her chest is pressed against your back. “Come on, just give in, I can see it in your eyes.” Her breath was warm on your ear, her voice dipping into a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

Without waiting for a response, she leaned in, pressing a gentle, lingering kiss just below your ear, where she knew you liked. Her lips traced down the line of your jaw, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every inch of skin. Her kisses were soft at first, feather-light, each one coaxing you to lose a little more focus.

As she reached the side of your neck, her hands slid up and tangled into your hair, her fingers curling with just enough pressure to make you look up from your work. She tugged gently, pulling you closer as she kissed the spot just above your collarbone, her lips pressing in deeper, each kiss warmer and more possessive than the last. She could feel the faintest hitch in your breath as her lips moved, her mouth leaving a trail of warmth in her wake. The sensation was dizzying, and every brush of her lips seemed to spark a little more heat between you, making it impossible to ignore her any longer.

One hand drifted from your hair to your shoulder, her fingertips brushing slowly down your arm before trailing back up, her touch deliberate and teasing. Her lips hovered at the nape of your neck, grazing softly as she whispered, “Can you please give me attention?” Her voice was a gentle plea wrapped in a sultry tease, her breath hot against your skin.

Her hands tightened slightly in your hair as her lips continued their trail, her kisses deepening as she left small, possessive marks—soft, warm reminders of her presence that lingered even after her lips moved. She pressed herself closer, the rhythm of the song matching the slow, deliberate beat of her heart. Her voice softened, and you could feel her smirk against your skin, an invitation that left little choice but to surrender to the pull of her touch.

Your resolve wavered as you glanced at her, but with a quick shake of your head, you refocused on your work. “Honey, I promise after I'm done, I'll give you all the attention you need, okay?”

Her lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout, the disappointment was almost comically dramatic. But she wasn’t ready to concede defeat. Instead, with a quick, determined stride, Liz slipped out of the kitchen and darted to your shared bedroom. She rummaged through the drawer, grabbing a fresh set of lacy undergarments, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she hid them behind her back. She returned to the kitchen, concealing the change of clothes with an innocent smile.

Rejoining you, Liz picked up a glass of water, a glint of mischief in her eye. She positioned herself close to you, pretending to take a casual sip, then with an exaggerated gasp and a theatrical tilt, she "accidentally" spilled the water down the front of her sweater and shorts, the cold splash soaking through the fabric and clinging to her curves beneath.

She let out a playful, shocked gasp, looking down at herself with wide eyes. “Oops!” she exclaimed, feigning innocence as she looked up at you, her eyes shining with mischief. “Looks like I made a mess…”

You looked up, eyebrows raised in amused disbelief. “Really?” you began, trying to keep your tone stern, but your amusement betrayed you.

Without missing a beat, Liz shrugged, flashing you a devilish smile as she reached for the hem of her soaked sweater. With an agonizing slowness, she pulled it off, letting the damp fabric slip over her shoulders and fall to the floor, leaving her in her wet shorts and a cute pink bra that hugged her so well. She shot you a glance, watching as your gaze lingered.

But she wasn’t done. Her fingers hooked under the waistband of her shorts, and with a teasing glance in your direction, she slid them down her hips, letting the fabric fall to the floor and leaving her in the matching soaked underwear. The damp material clung to her skin, accentuating every curve and had become almost see-through, revealing the soft contours beneath. It molded to her body, tracing every line and dip with delicate precision, hinting at the natural line between her legs. A small smile played on her lips as she noticed the faint shift in your expression, a silent acknowledgment of the effect she had on you.

She took a slow step forward, lifting her chin defiantly. “You sure you don’t want to help me out now?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she tugged at the strap of her bra.

Your gaze followed the movement, and you chuckled, shaking your head even as your resolve began to waver. “You’re going to have to try harder than that,” you replied, though your tone softened, hinting at how close you were to giving in.

“Oh, I plan to,” she murmured, her voice a sultry whisper as she drew nearer. Her hands slipped behind her back, fingers deftly locating the clasp of her bra. In one smooth motion, she unhooked it, allowing the fabric to glide down her arms and pool at her feet, revealing her bare chest. Her eyes locked onto yours, challenging you to look away. But you couldn’t; your gaze lingered, tracing the contours of her form.

Then, with deliberate slowness, she turned around, her back to you as her hands slipped down to the waistband of her panties. She bent over slightly, just enough to give you a full, tantalizing view, as she peeled the wet fabric down her hips and thighs, letting it drop to her feet. Every movement was slow and intentional, and the sight left you speechless, torn between finishing your work and giving in.

Straightening up, she faced you once more, her cheeks slightly flushed but her eyes filled with confidence. Without a word, she reached for the fresh set of undergarments she had hidden, slipping into them as you watched, completely captivated.

Her lips curled into a sly smile as she met your gaze again. “Now… will you touch me?” she asked, her voice a soft plea wrapped in a sultry tease, her tone breaking the last of your resolve.

You chuckled, shaking your head with a hint of feigned restraint. “Later, I promise. If I don't finish this then I won’t have a job—and then I won’t be able to get you all those things you keep hinting about.” Your tone was steady, but your gaze betrayed you as it traced all over her body, revealing just how much of a struggle it was to stay focused.

Liz let out an exaggerated, melodramatic groan, her hands falling to her hips in mock defeat. “Fine, fine. Later, that's what you always say,” she said, pouting as she reluctantly stepped back, throwing you one last, imploring look.

Just then, your phone buzzed on the table, its insistent vibration shattering the playful silence. You stood up to answer, frustration flashing across your face as you paced back and forth, absorbed in the terse conversation. As you talked, Liz watched you, her own impatience simmering. The wait stretched on unbearably, her need for you now pulsing with an almost comical level of urgency. She could feel her determination solidifying.

Without uttering a single word, she rose from her seat, her movements fluid yet purposeful. She slipped into the sanctuary of the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her. The coolness of the tiles against her back was a contrast to the feverish heat that radiated from within. Leaning against the wall, she released a shaky breath, the ache between her thighs a relentless, pulsating demand for attention.

Her hands, trembling slightly with pent-up desire, began a slow descent down her body. They traced the contours of her hips, the familiar terrain now electrified with heightened sensitivity. Dipping between her legs, her fingers tentatively explored the heat that beckoned them. Her breath hitched as she grazed her sensitive skin, a jolt of pleasure coursing through her, but it was fleeting, a mere whisper of what she truly yearned for.

She pressed her fingers more firmly against herself, attempting to mimic the touch she so desperately needed from you. Her heart pounded in her chest, a staccato rhythm that matched the increasing tempo of her own hand. The tension within her coiled ever more tightly, each desperate stroke fueling the fire that threatened to consume her.

Yet, despite her best efforts, the release she sought remained maddeningly out of reach. Her self-administered caresses, though fervent, were a hollow imitation of the passion she craved. A soft desperate whimper escaped her lips, her head falling back against the unyielding wall as her body trembled with unmet need. Her fingers moved with increasing urgency, her breath quickening to short, sharp gasps, but the elusive wave of pleasure she sought continued to elude her, taunting her with its proximity.

"Come on… please…" she begged into the empty room, her voice a tremulous blend of desperation and frustration. She increased the pressure, her hips undulating against her own hand, but the crescendo she so desperately sought remained just beyond her grasp. Her fingers, now slick with her own arousal, were simply not enough to quell the storm within her.

Defeated, she withdrew her hand, her body still throbbing with an unsatisfied longing. Her breath came in shallow, ragged gasps, and a solitary tear of frustration tracked down her cheek. The realization hit her with a profound clarity: she needed you. Only you could extinguish the flame that raged unabated inside her.

Liz composed herself, the cool air of the bathroom doing little to temper the inferno that burned within. She emerged from the bathroom, her gaze immediately drawn to you. You sat at the table, the picture of calm repose after your phone call, contrasting to the turmoil that racked her. Without hesitation, she sprinted across the room, her need for you a palpable force that propelled her forward. She climbed onto your lap, her body pressing against yours, her desperation an unmistakable presence between you.

"I don't care about your work," she whispered, her voice raw with the remnants of her frustrated attempts at satisfaction. "I tried, but it's not enough. I need you."

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, thickening the tension between you. She inched closer, the anticipation building with each heartbeat. Her breaths were shallow, her cheeks flushed, and when she lifted her hand toward your face, her intentions were unmistakable.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she brought them to your eyes, and you noticed the glistening sheen—a subtle but unmistakable sign of her arousal. The warmth radiating from her touch spoke volumes, the scent and sight of her desire making the air around you almost electric.

Slowly, she then slid her fingers past your lips, and you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped as the taste and warmth of her skin flooded your senses. The feel of her wet fingers against your tongue sent an electric pulse through you, one that lingered, intense and undeniable. Your eyelids fluttered closed, your breath hitching as you surrendered to the sensory overload she was offering.

Her fingers moved slowly, exploring the warmth of your mouth as if savoring every second. She traced the curve of your tongue, brushing lightly against the smoothness of your palate, each touch slow and deliberate, leaving a lingering warmth that was impossible to ignore. You felt her breath, hot and close, mingling with yours as her fingers coaxed a fire that echoed the rising tension between you. Your heart raced, each beat syncing with the throb of need that simmered just beneath the surface.

The heat in her core, which had moments ago felt unbearable, now flared into an intense blaze. With each passing moment, as her fingers remained enveloped in the warmth of your mouth, she could feel herself becoming more and more aroused. The wetness between her legs grew, a physical testament to her body's readiness. A soft moan escaped her lips as she imagined the culmination of their shared desire, the anticipation of what was to come next a sweet torture that promised to finally douse the unquenchable fire within.

Your eyes widened, reflecting a cocktail of surprise and mounting passion as Liz, with a fiery determination, began to move against you. Her hips swayed with an initial languidness, a slow burn that was quickly stoked into an intense flame. Each roll of her body was a word in an unspoken language, a plea for connection that was both physical and profoundly emotional.

Her lips, soft and insistent, blazed a trail down the column of your neck, marking you with the fervent passion of her need. The love bite she left just below your ear was a brand, a claim of intimacy that sent shivers down your spine. “Keep working for all I care, just let me use you.” she whispered, her voice a tremulous testament to her desperation. Her sentence trailed off into a moan as her hips found a rhythm that spoke of her urgency.

Liz’s body was a conduit of yearning, each movement an expression of her deep-seated desire. Her need was palpable, a force that seemed to vibrate through the very air around you. Your hands, initially steadying, now clung to her waist with an intensity that mirrored her own. Your breaths were short, sharp bursts of air as you wrestled with your own surging need, striving to maintain a semblance of control in the face of her unbridled passion.

But Liz, lost in the throes of her own longing, was beyond the point of patience. Her lips returned to your neck, leaving another love bite, a twin to the first, as she ground against you with increasing fervor. “Ugh forget what I said. Please help me out!” she whimpered, her voice cracking under the weight of her need. “I can’t take it anymore.”

It was the raw vulnerability in her voice that finally pierced your resolve. Your hands, now firm and decisive, gripped her hips, not to pull her closer but to lift her gently off your lap. You guided her toward the bed, a sanctuary where you could lavish upon her the care and attention she so desperately craved. Liz blinked in momentary confusion, her body still pulsing with unfulfilled desire. She had been so close to the edge, so ready to tumble over it with you.

“Okay” you murmured softly, your voice a soothing balm against her flushed skin as you cupped her cheek. Your thumb traced a gentle path across her heated flesh, a silent promise of the tenderness to come. “I didn't know it was this bad, I'm sorry for making you wait.” Your lips found hers in a kiss that was both a reassurance and a reawakening of her senses. “But I want to take care of you properly. This is all about you, baby.”

Liz’s breath hitched, her body quivering with a mixture of anticipation and a newfound sense of being cherished. As you guided her down onto the bed, your hands moved with a reverence that made her heart flutter. Each touch, each caress, was a testament to your desire to please her, to explore the depths of her need and satisfy it in a way that was as much about connection as it was about physical release.

Your lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of soft, deliberate kisses down her neck. You took your time, savoring the moment, as you kissed across her collarbone with a tenderness that made her feel both vulnerable and exquisitely seen. With gentle care, you unclasped her bra, revealing the stiff nubs breasts, the raw truth of her desire. Liz’s skin prickled under your touch, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she surrendered to the waves of anticipation that coursed through her.

In the quiet of the room, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—a tangle of limbs and a tapestry of whispered yearnings. Your every move was deliberate, a dance of devotion that promised to worship every inch of her being. Liz felt overwhelmed, not just by the sensations that threatened to consume her, but by the depth of emotion that shone in your eyes. In this sacred space, she was not just a body to be claimed, but a soul to be revered.

As your lips continued their tender exploration, each kiss a vow of adoration, Liz surrendered to the exquisite surrender, knowing that in your capable hands, she would find not just the release she craved, but the connection she had been yearning for all along.

“I’ve got you, baby,” you whispered against her skin, kissing lower as your hands gently pressed against her thighs to ease them apart. “Let me take care of you.”

Liz whimpered softly, her fingers gripping the sheets as your lips grazed her inner thighs, teasing her with featherlight kisses. The anticipation was excruciating, the fire between her legs almost unbearable now. “Please,” she gasped, her hips shifting under your touch. “Please hurry up. I can’t wait…”

You looked up, eyes dark with intent but softened with affection. “I know, honey,” you murmured, voice soothing. “You don’t have to wait anymore.”

Slowly, you hooked your fingers around the waistband of her panties, slipping them down her thighs. As you pulled the fabric away, a glistening line of arousal connected it to her core, a raw, intimate sign of her need that sent a fresh wave of desire surging through you.

With that, you lowered your mouth to her most intimate area, beginning a slow, deliberate journey with your tongue that drew a sharp gasp from her lips. Liz's back arched off the bed as the first wave of intense pleasure washed over her, your name falling from her lips in a soft, breathless plea.

You savored every moment, taking in the taste and warmth of her, feeling the desperation in every tremor of her body. Your tongue moved with deliberate purpose, tracing slow, languid circles around her most sensitive spot before pressing in, tasting the raw sweetness of her arousal. The slight tang lingered on your tongue, a heady reminder of how close she was to unraveling.

With each flick and caress, you explored her rhythm, sensing exactly where to tease and where to soothe. You took her clit between your lips, sucking softly at first, then with increasing pressure, drawing a deep moan from her that resonated through your chest. Her hips arched instinctively, pressing against your mouth, silently begging for more. The slow, sensual rhythm built her higher and higher, and you felt her thighs begin to tremble on either side of you.

Liz’s hands fisted the sheets, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you intensified your pace. You could feel her holding back, teetering on the edge, her body taut and eager beneath you as your tongue worked her into a state of pure need. She had waited so long for this, imagined your touch from the moment she woke, and now, here you were, driving her wild with bliss.

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea. Her fingers found their way to your hair, tangling in it as she clung to you, her body quivering. “Don’t stop… Oh God, please don’t stop.”

You lifted your head just enough to murmur against her skin, the hum of your voice sending a shiver through her core. “I won’t, baby,” you whispered, lips brushing her, each word thick with intent. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

Her soft cries grew louder as you continued, your tongue stroking over her, slow and unrelenting, each motion sparking new jolts of pleasure that left her gasping and releasing another desperate moan from her lips. Liz’s body arched sharply, her thighs tightening around you as the pressure intensified.

“Oh my…” she gasped, voice catching in her throat, her breath shallow and ragged. “I’m so close…”

“Go ahead, baby,” you murmured, your breath hot against her skin. “Cum for me.”

The words combined with a deep flick of your tongue, were all she needed. Her release crashed over her, consuming her in waves. Liz cried out, her body trembling violently, thighs quivering uncontrollably as the orgasm took hold. Her hands clenched the back of your head, pulling you impossibly close as her head threw back, each moan spilling from her lips a testament to the ecstasy you’d pulled her into.

But you didn’t stop. Your mouth remained on her, relentless and devoted, your tongue and lips letting her ride out every last bit of her orgasm. When her thighs started to press together, instinctively seeking some escape from the intensity, you hooked both hands between her legs, prying her open with gentle but steady pressure. Your fingers dug softly into the flesh of her inner thighs, holding her in place, ensuring she stayed completely vulnerable to every flick of your tongue.

Liz whimpered, her hips squirming under your firm hold, her body entirely exposed to your touch, with nowhere to hide from the sensations that were building within her. She tried to twist away, overwhelmed by the pleasure, but your hands kept her steady, her every movement restrained in the soft grasp of your fingers.

“I can’t… please… it’s too much…” she moaned, her hands weakly gripping your head, but even then, she knew the warm feeling in her core was still lingering. “Okay, maybe just one more.” She weakly let out, contradicting her own words.

The sensation between her legs was nearly unbearable, her breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps as your mouth moved over her, slow and torturous, each flick of your tongue igniting another spark of sensation. You let your lips close over her sensitive clit again, sucking softly, then firm enough to tug on the nub, until her body responded with a shuddering moan that sent a thrill through your being.

You let your mouth bring her closer and closer, feeling the growing tension in her thighs and the way her breathing became ragged. You stayed focused, your tongue moving with purpose, keeping her right on the edge.

“Oh… oh, please…” she gasped, her voice quivering as you increased the pressure, holding her open and vulnerable as her release built quickly, the intensity almost too much to bear.

With a particular lick, your tongue curved deep inside her, pressing against her walls as it moved, then you brought it back flicking over her clit repeatedly. She cried out, her body going rigid as the climax surged through her. Her toes curled, and her thighs trembled in your firm grasp, but you held her open, feeling the waves of pleasure pulse through her. Her juices enveloped your mouth as she shook uncontrollably, her hands gripping the sheets, breathless from the overwhelming bliss that crashed over her again and again. “Oh God… fuck! I-I’m cumming!” she cried, her voice breaking as her body convulsed beneath you, every nerve alight with intensity. The sensation was so powerful it left her undone, each convulsive tremor a testament to the pleasure coursing through her, leaving her utterly spent, yet deeply fulfilled.

You slowed your movements, letting your tongue soften as you felt the warmth of her release, helping her ride out the final waves of pleasure. Leaning in, you pressed gentle, reverent kisses along her pulsing, trembling folds, each one soft and deliberate, as if sealing in the pleasure that still coursed through her. With each kiss, you felt the last traces of her climax gradually ease, her body quivering under your touch.

When you finally pulled back, Liz collapsed onto the bed, her body still trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was completely spent, her mind foggy with exhaustion and the overwhelming afterglow of multiple orgasms.

You crawled up beside her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach, then moving to her chest, and finally finding her lips. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with love. Liz melted into it, tasting herself on your lips, her body still shaking from the aftershocks. Yet amid that tremble was a warmth in her chest—a feeling of being so completely cherished that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“You’re so cute,” you whispered against her lips, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Liz murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her body felt heavy, exhausted from the overwhelming pleasure, and she could feel the exhaustion pulling at her.

You smiled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Take a nap baby, I’ve got you.”

Liz’s eyelids fluttered shut, her body relaxing completely into the bed. The last thing she felt was the warmth of your lips pressing a final kiss to her forehead before she drifted off into a deep, contented sleep. You bent down and pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering there as you whispered, “Sleep well, my love.”

Carefully, you tucked the blanket tighter around her shoulders, making sure she was wrapped up securely, bundled in a loving warmth. You gently ran your hand over the curve of her waist, the lightest of touches, before pulling the blanket higher up around her neck, ensuring that no part of her would feel cold. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting her to be as comfortable and protected as possible.

“You’re adorable,” you murmured softly, smiling as you leaned in to kiss her again, pressing your lips softly to the top of her head. “How did I get so lucky?”

Liz let out a soft, sleepy hum, shifting slightly under the blanket, but she remained blissfully asleep. Your heart fluttered at the sound, and you stood slowly, your movements quiet and gentle as you finally tore yourself away, knowing she was completely at ease.

With a reluctant sigh, you walked back to the kitchen, settling in front of your laptop once again. But after just a few minutes, your thoughts kept drifting back to Liz, still peacefully asleep just a room away. Every few moments, you glanced in her direction, your focus slipping from your work.

Why not work there? you thought.

After all, you could bring the laptop into the bedroom and be close to her while she slept. Quietly, you stood, gathering your laptop and slipping into the bedroom. There was a small table and chair near the window, just perfect for setting up your workstation. You set the laptop down carefully, keeping the light low to avoid disturbing Liz, and settled into the chair.

Now, from your spot, you could watch Liz sleep while you worked—something that made your heart feel a little fuller.

As you worked, you kept stealing soft glances at her, your heart warming every time you saw her peacefully tucked under the covers, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of comfort knowing you were nearby in case she needed you.

If I finish quickly… your fingers tapping efficiently at the keys.

Determined to wrap up your work, you focused more than you had all day, your motivation clear. You wanted nothing more than to slide back into bed beside Liz and hold her close.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you finished your last task. A quiet sigh of relief escaped your lips as you closed the laptop, your eyes immediately drifting back to the bed. With a content smile, you stood and tiptoed to the bed, careful not to wake her.

The moment you slipped under the covers beside her, Liz instinctively stirred, her body reacting to your presence even in sleep. Without waking, she shifted closer, wrapping her whole body around you. Her leg draped over yours, her arms encircling your waist, and she pressed her face against your neck, letting out a soft, contented sigh as she snuggled into you, as if she had been waiting for you to return all along.

Your heart swelled as you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her in even closer. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, your fingers gently stroking her back as she relaxed fully against you.

“There you are,” you whispered softly, your voice full of warmth and affection. “I missed you too, baby.”

Liz responded with a sleepy hum, her grip on you tightening just a little, her breathing slow and steady. Even in her dreams, she clung to you, her body instinctively seeking the comfort of your embrace. You smiled down at her, your chest filling with a deep sense of love and contentment. She fit so perfectly against you, as though you were two pieces meant to come together.

You settled into the pillow, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing against you. You weren’t at all sleepy, but you lay there with a smile, reveling in the warmth of being so close to her. The gentle rhythm of her breathing was comforting, and as you watched her peaceful face, you felt a wave of happiness wash over you. In that moment, everything felt perfect, and you couldn’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. Wrapped up in each other, with the soft glow of the lights circling around you, everything was as it should be.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #kinkvember #kinkvember 2024 #gender neutral reader #ive smut #ive #ive liz #ive liz smut #liz x reader #jiwon #kim jiwon #ive jiwon #gn reader #female idol smut

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hebrewbyinbal · 1 month ago

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I wasn’t going to post anything else today with all that has happened in Israel but evil will not win.

While my heart and prayers are with all the victims and my people, here is a simple lesson on Jewish traditions during Rosh Hashanah.

Traditional Rosh Hashanah foods are symbolic, reflecting hope, renewal, and blessings for the new year. Key examples:

Apples in honey – Wishing for a sweet new year.

Round challah – Symbolizes life’s cycle and continuity, often sweetened with raisins.

Pomegranates – Represent abundance and the 613 commandments

Fish head – Symbolizes the hope to lead and make progress.

These foods are part of the Rosh Hashanah seder, accompanied by prayers and blessings for a fruitful and positive year.

#rosh hashanah #jewish food #jewish tradition #jumblr #hebrew #hebrew langblr #israel #water color

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ceesimz · 7 months ago

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Our Sun Is Setting

TW: mentions of homophobia and grief for a parent. It's quite a heavy fic, please keep that in mind.

"I told my Mami about you today."

You didn't think it was possible for a relatively normal, short sentence over the phone to make you feel sick to the pit of your stomach, but it did.

"Oh." That was all you managed.

Your mind was in overdrive as you stood in the middle of the grocery store, buying ingredients for the dinner you were preparing for later that evening when Alexia was going to come over. Any other person would have reacted better, wouldn't have been frozen to the tiles of the shop in the middle of the breakfast aisle, wouldn't have been on the brink of a panic attack from a simple statement.

"She was very happy. And she would like to meet you soon, whenever you like."

Another punch to the gut.

"She also teased me for talking about you so much. I couldn't stop myself." Alexia paired her words with a shy laugh.

The sound of it grounded you slightly as you moved out of the way of an old couple walking in your direction, but your head was still being insistently ruthless as you wandered mindlessly through the rest of the shop. Alexia was still talking over the line, seemingly not noticing your silence, but you couldn't work out what she was saying due to the unbearable ringing in your ears.

You were in shock.

"Are you still there?"

"Y-yeah, sorry. I think the signal went a bit weird, I didn't catch much of what you said." You reply in a shaking voice.

On the other side of the phone, Alexia frowns ever so slightly - she can almost sense something is wrong, but she can't quite figure out what or why. She hopes that when she sees you later, you are perhaps feeling better or if not, at least she's there for you.

"Okay cariño, would it be better if I left you to your shop?" She suggests, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel of her car where she was parked outside of the training complex before an afternoon training session.

"Yeah, probably. Sorry, I'll see you later."

And with that, you hung up.

As you went to slide your phone into your pocket with your shaking hands, you missed, causing it to clatter heavily against the tiles. It earned a few stares from the people around you, only intensifying the jittery dread that surged through you. Pins and needles encapsulated your body as you crouched down to pick up your now-smashed phone, but currently that was the last thing on your mind.

Alexia's statements circled relentlessly around your head - to literally anybody else in the world, hearing those words from someone they had were seeing would be enamouring and seen as a key, heart-warming milestone. But to you, it opened up a dark spot in your mind that you had shunned to the side for some amount of time. It seemed now was the right moment for that unidentifiable problem to break free from its shackles and make itself known, and you were terrified of what those repercussions would be.

You carried out the rest of your shop on autopilot, shoving a handful of notes into the cashier's hand before rushing out without a clue of how much you just gave them. For all you know, you could have massively overpaid them or robbed them in broad daylight. You were so out of touch with the world right now.

So much so, that you were unlocking the door to your apartment before you realised. How long did it take you to get home? Did your phone still work? What time is it? Did you walk, get a taxi, catch the bus, how did you get here? What did you even buy at the shop? Why won't this fucking door open-

A neighbour walked past hastily as you barged a shoulder against the door and almost crashed through it as it finally opened. You sent them an apologetic smile, though there was no doubt in your mind it was more of a manic and unnerving look than anything else, before slamming it shut behind you. The icing on the cake to this whole thing was the fact that the bottom of your shopping bag split open, scattering your groceries across the floor of the entryway. At least now you could see what you had bought.

Whether your legs failed you and buckled or you put yourself on the ground, you kneeled on the floor and gathered everything into your arms to transport it to the kitchen. It was a struggle, your trembling arms barely having the strength to hold themselves up, but you managed to dump your belongings on the kitchen side. Once you'd done that, you rested heavily against the counter, desperately trying to replenish the oxygen that had been stolen from your lungs some point along the way to this moment here.

What the fuck do you do now?

You turned to lean back against the counter and slowly slid down to the ground until you were sat on the floor, head back against the cupboard. There were too many conflicting thoughts and emotions rushing through you that all you could do was sit and stare. Feeling nothing but everything at the same time, thinking nothing but everything all at once.

Seeing Alexia tonight might tip you over the edge. You hope it doesn't end that way. You hope that her presence eases you. You hope she saves you from falling, sinking, spiralling into an irrevocable state of mind, whether she recognises that she's doing it or not. You hope, hope, hope.

Time seems to be a temporary concept for today, because before you've even had the chance to start preparing dinner for tonight, Alexia is at your door. Her voice calls out from behind it, asking if you're in there and if you're okay, because you've zoned out again. You're on the sofa, your cross-body purse still hanging off your shoulder, your jacket still zipped up to your chin, your shoes still on. Your groceries are still strewn on the kitchen counter, and the torn bag is still in the entry way.

"Amor, are you in there? Let me in." Alexia calls out, her voice tainted with concern.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm coming!" You jump up, kick your shoes off, throw your bag onto the small dining table, and open the door. She visibly deflates at the sight of you, her tense shoulders dropping, but her face contorts at your attire.

"Why do you have your chaqueta on?" She asks, and you're beyond grateful to hear it's said in an amused tone.

"Bit cold s'all. Come in." You're not cold. You live in Barcelona, and it's the middle of the spring.

You step to the side and she walks in with a tiny smile on her face. She's glad to be here, you realise. She seems to be in a light and happy mood, carrying no extra stress or other burdens, and, rather selfishly, you're glad.

"How was training?"

You plaster a smile on your face as she takes her shoes off and drops her bag beside them, turning to you and opening her arms. You walk into them with no hesitation, but the feeling isn't as relieving as you desired it to be.

"It was good. I did a amazing free-kick, I will show you the video." Alexia beams, and that does warm your heart somewhat. Her passion for her work, her career, her life, was forever an invigorating thing to witness. It's a shame you weren't in the right mood to appreciate it.

"That's great, Ale." You smile genuinely up at her, more than happy to return the soft kiss she offers.

It momentarily calms and heals a small part of you you'd been hoping she would subconsciously fix, but it wasn't enough and you recognised that straight away. You'd get on your knees, beg, and pray to any higher power that would listen to you just so you'd feel okay for one more day. Except, who do you pray to when you don't believe in God?

"What's that?" She points to the white plastic bag from earlier.

"Oh, the bag for the groceries ripped as soon as I walked in. Must have forgotten to pick it up." You shrug it off, wishing for her attention to be elsewhere for the time being. "I haven't started dinner yet, sorry."

"That's okay." She smiles, shrugging a shoulder nonchalantly and kissing your cheek. "How was your day?"

Tough question.

"It was alright, haven't done much." You brush it off, taking her hand and leading her to the kitchen... where the whole area was still a state.

"Oh, what happened here?" Alexia frowns.

If it was just a few items, she wouldn't be so puzzled, but when a good portion of the food left out was fridge and freezer food? Strange.

"I... I, when the bag ripped before, a jar smashed by the door and, uh... I took a while cleaning it and forgot to put the rest of the stuff away." You ramble unusually quickly. It was a blatant lie, but she didn't need to know that.

Except, Alexia was an incredibly attentive person, and she knew straight away that something was amiss. The first sign was that, in her intelligent mind, she knew that theoretically if a jar filled were to smash by the front door, the white bag from earlier would have been covered in its contents - but that wasn't the case. The second sign: whenever you cleaned your apartment, you used a very strong smelling citrus scented spray - she often complained about it and nagged you to get one that smelt nicer. Your apartment didn't smell uncomfortably citrusy right now. Funny observation, sure, but these two pieces of seemingly inconspicuous evidence gave away the fact you weren't right. Oh, and your strange behaviour showcased on the phone earlier and a few moments ago didn't help your case either.

But, she chose not to pressure you about it yet. She wanted to wait until you perhaps opened up to her some point this evening. However, that didn't entirely stop her from speaking up.

"Ven aquí, amor." Alexia demands calmly, reaching a hand out to you. Suppressing a sigh, you take it, and she looks down at you with a pressing stare. "Answer me honestly. Are you okay?"

No.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm fine, Ale, I am." You try to reassure her, squeezing her hand and smiling up at her.

"You promise?" Alexia raises her eyebrows and offers her pinky for you to seal your, rather untruthful, truth. "It's okay if something isn't right."

Pinky promises, as childish as they may come across to some, were never to be broken. Since the start of your relationship, they had been a thing that had been utilised by the both of you to ensure you are telling the truth. Alexia had broken one of her promises she had made to you before in the past, so why couldn't you do one in return? It's only fair, right? Relationships were meant to be equal after all.

"Promise." You smile again and raise your other hand to lock fingers with her. She smiles, though you can see she's not convinced, but nevertheless she kisses your knuckle.

"Can I help you cook?"

"I'm meant to be cooking for you. And you are a bit of a control freak in the kitchen." You tease, desperately trying to steer the night away from the morose direction it could go down, and instead towards the light-hearted, content way you so needed.

"I think I am just a control freak in general." She smirks at you before turning to put away the disregarded shopping. You would also happily accept that direction too, you supposed. "Venga, I am so hungry, I skipped lunch at training for a meeting and now I regret it."

To your relief, you both make peaceful conversation once you've told her what you planned on cooking, and it's so peacefully domestic as you do your individual tasks beside each other. Every so often, Alexia will joke and bump her hip into yours as you giggle, and this version of your girlfriend is exactly what you needed. For a moment, you feel the cloud over your head slither away, until the topic you wanted to avoid came up.

"So, what do you think of me telling my Mami about us? You never gave me a response on call earlier."

You freeze momentarily, Alexia thankfully not noticing from the corner of her eye. With a subtle clearing of your throat, you continue cutting up the chilli peppers on the board in front of you, but your now shaking hands pose as a slight kitchen hazard considering the sharp knife you were wielding.

"I, yeah, it's nice. Nice that you, um... did that." You stutter out anxiously, nausea settling cruelly in the pit of your stomach. Alexia takes in your reaction and laughs under her breath, turning briefly to leave a kiss on your forehead.

"No need to be nervous, amor. We have been together for many months now, it was due to happen soon. And M-"

"Ow- fuck!" You gasp sharply, dropping the knife immediately and cradling your hand as blood began dripping from the middle joint of your index finger.

"Woah, amor, what happened?" Alexia winces at the sight, grabbing a few squares of kitchen paper and pressing it against your cut.

"I- my hand slipped and I obviously cut myself." You grimace, eyes tightly shut to rid yourself of the sight. "It burns too, fuck."

Alexia knew you didn't handle blood too well, so she turned you away from the scene and wrapped one arm around your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly whilst she still applied pressure to the cut.

"It's okay, it's okay, it hurts more because of the chilli. Take some breaths, vale?" You nod hastily, not really realising your cheeks had puffed out as you held your breath. Alexia watches your face closely, eyes still closed as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. "You're doing good, bebita. Keep doing that, so good. Let's relax a bit, hm? We should sit down in case you get lightheaded."

The last sentence is her thinking out loud as she started guiding you towards one of the chairs at the dining table. Resting one elbow on the table whilst Alexia continued to hold your wounded hand, you lay your forehead against your uninjured hand as Alexia crouched beside you. Your joined hands lay in your lap as you calmed down, or at least tried to.

To Alexia, it would appear that you were just mentally recovering from the shock of the incident. But actually, you were trying to dispel the unsuspected horror that filled you to the brim at Alexia's earlier reminder.

I told my Mami about you today. She wants to meet you.

That line inevitably meant you had to tell your family too. Except, you couldn't. There was no way you would, no way you could, not without facing realities you had pressed down far into unreachable and forgettable depths of your mind. It was all too much, it was simply not a possibility for you. You knew what it would lead to, and you weren't ready for that.

For the past months you'd been with Alexia and the time you spent getting to know her before that, you had mostly lived in a bubble that dissociated you from the broken, cracked, ruined, utterly destroyed parts of your brain. It had been perfect so far, and you'd be fucking damned to leave that bubble now. But perhaps it was too late and the damage had been done long before Alexia said what she said earlier, maybe that darkness just needed a catalyst before it submerged you in its wake.

"Amor? Hey, come back." One of Alexia's hands lightly patted your cheek to bring you back into the room. "You scared me there. Your breathing got really bad and you were in a... a weird daze. I was talking but you weren't reacting or anything. Are you back now?"

You nodded wordlessly at her, still not entirely taking in what she was saying.

"The blood... freaked me out." You rasp breathlessly, shaking your head a little to rid the glaze over your vision.

"That's okay. Do you feel a little dizzy? I can get you something to help that. Clear your head maybe." You nod again, and she gently lets go of your hand. Cold shivers immediately burst through at the lost contact, but you had to get over yourself and get used to it.

Cautiously, you take the tissue off of your hand and inspect the damage. It doesn't seem deep enough for stitches, which instantly fills you with relief. If you weren't already in a state of intense dismay already, a trip to the hospital would cause a hurricane of emotions that left a lasting imprint on everything and everyone around.

"Here, some apple juice. To get your blood sugar back." Alexia places a mug of apple juice in front of you and notices your now bare hand. "Oof, amor, that looks painful. I'm not sure if that may need a doct-"

"No! No doctors, no hospital. It doesn't need stitches, it's fine." You rush out, eyes wide in what Alexia guesses is fear as you look down at where she's crouched again. "Please, no hospital. It just needs to be cleaned and wrapped up."

"Okay, if you are sure." Alexia replies, nudging the cup closer to you. "Drink that and I will get the first aid kit."

You do as she says, drinking the half-empty cup of apple juice whilst she searches through the kitchen for the green box of medical supplies. Her eyes hardly leave your slumped form at the table, filled with worry for you. Things weren't adding up now, it was obvious, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could ignore it.

A part of her feels afraid to push you; emotionally she wants the best for you and if subtly, or not so subtly, urging you to do that works then she'll do it, but intellectually she senses a deep, internalised issue that could rip through you if handled incorrectly. It's not up to her to cause that. So she asks a question that's so layered it flattens all remaining atmosphere in the room.

"Cariño, how do you feel now?" She pretends to busy herself with organising the already packed box of medical necessities you kept.

"Better." Phyiscally true, but mentally wrong.

"Why don't we order something for dinner instead?"

As if you weren't filled with disconcertion already, that suggestion signs, seals, and stamps the envelope set to be sent to the fucking psyche ward for your admission. Were you so inadequate now that you couldn't even cook a simple meal? Apparently so.

"O-Okay."

Alexia frowns and comes back over with alcohol wipes, antiseptic cream, and a box of plasters, placing her items on the table and gently tapping your chin to get you to look up at her.

"I love you, you know that?"

The words fell from her lips before she could stop them. Alexia maybe wasn't the most emotionally helpful person ever but she sure did try. She thought her saying that would comfort at least a small part of you, but she couldn't be more wrong. It planted the seed of an unforgivable idea in your head.

The realisation of what you had to do poured over you like cold water, washing away every ounce of the little remaining hope and positivity you had. A feeling akin to mourning settled in your heart, accompanied by the debilitating weight of this twisted entity in your mind seeping into your bones. Your body strained under the heaviness of it all, unable to capacitate for the burden of living life like this, only confirming that the thing you must do was your only solution. Your lower lip quivered as the thought consumed you, the devil in your head chanting it over and over and over and o-

"I do know." Your lips tug into a smile but your throat bobs to conceal the sobs bubbling at the surface. "I know that. I love you too."

For the remaining time you had with her, you would make sure she knew that too.

"Let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

It's silent between you both as she delicately cleans the wound before applying cream and wrapping it up in bandages. It's silent as she leads you to the sofa, silent as she ordered your meal for you from one of the common takeaways you always got together. It's silent as you wait for it to come. It's less silent when Alexia turns on Netflix and opts for a new TV show for you both to watch together. It's still fairly silent even as you sit beside her, back stiff and straight beside the woman whose heart you were soon to break.

Alexia has never loathed quietness more than she does right now. It was an occurrence she valued at any other point in her life; watching football, reading, studying a game, relaxing in a post-match bath, going on a solitary walk to gain some peace of mind. But here, in this moment beside you, her skin crawls at the unbearable stillness of the room. Sure, she did enjoy silence with you too, but it felt like the unavoidable elephant in the room was stomping on her heart with every beat of her heart. There was a hidden agenda in the belly of the beast attacking her, and for some reason it felt like she was running out of time to put out the fire.

Her spiralling was interrupted when the buzzer of your apartment rang through the room, letting you know there was someone outside of the apartment complex without a fob to enter the building. Alexia reluctantly gets up from the sofa to let them in and hovers by the door to wait for the delivery driver to find your flat. She keeps her eyes on you, subtly watching you attentively, but even if she stood face-to-face with you, noses touching and breaths mingling, you wouldn't have a clue she was there. Your senses were incredibly warped and you were so far detached from reality, it felt like you and Alexia were two worlds apart.

What's at stake right now is something that's much bigger than the both of you. The dynamic around you may as well have a 'fragile: handle with care' sticker slapped on it, except, even that wouldn't have stopped the hands of the puppets controlling the world from acting so cruelly. You'd taken constant blows for quite some time now with no respite. Just as you started to recover from one punch, another would come to hit you square in the face.

"Hey." Alexia lightly knocks on your forehead with her knuckle. Every concerned glance from the woman in front of you felt like a jab at your body, slowly working you down until you gave in. "You are here, but you are not here."

You blink gormlessly up at her, your shoulders lifting in a careless shrug before you took back control of your mind.

"Food's here?" You force a smile, taking the paper bag from her hand and walking on shaking legs to the kitchen. You get plates and cutlery out, dishing up your meals before joining Alexia back on the couch, the taller woman now the one seemingly stuck in her head. "Ale, your meal."

"Ah, thank you." She leans in to quickly kiss your cheek when you sit beside her again.

The blonde woman has one more trick up her sleeve to try and bring you out of your shell, and it's one she hardly ever played.

Immediately, she begins to babble on about her day and her teammates and her family and whatever new antics Mapi and the youngsters had got up to, going abnormally overboard with the amount of anecdotes she was spewing out. Everybody knew Alexia was not a talkative person, and she only ever acted like this when she was in a rare giddy mood. And that really was rare.

The Alexia on display so far tonight was not in a giddy mood. She was happy, of course she was, but factor in the concern she'd shown for you tonight and the giddiness she had not portrayed at all even recently, something was off. It threw you completely off-kilter, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was doing this.

"I'll tell my Dad about us tomorrow." You blurted out, interrupting another of her rambles. It's kind of the truth, not all of it, and it's not the biggest decision you've made for yourself tonight, but you owed her something at least for putting up with you.

"Que?" She frowns. Out of all things she'd expected you to say tonight, that wasn't one of them.

"You're talking a lot because you want to know why I'm acting weird. It's because I'm thinking about telling my Dad about us, I'm scared to do it but you told Eli so I'll tell my Dad." You explained, pushing your food around your plate as Alexia processes your words for a moment.

"You don't have to do that if you don't want to. I don't mind, I know things haven't been... haven't been great between you both since your Mu-"

"Okay, but he's still my Dad." You cut her off again. You're not in the mood to discuss what she was about to bring up.

"You don't owe him anything, amor. Sure, he's your Dad, but you said it yourself only a few weeks ago; he's an idiot. No one should treat their child the way he's treated you after they've just lost their Mami."

There. She said it anyway.

"Alexia, I know you're just trying to stick up for me, but please don't go there. This has nothing to do with my Mum." Another partial lie.

The subconscious, realistic part of you knows every issue you've had in the last two years has everything to do with... her. But right now, the impulsive side that has been at the forefront of your mind ever since it happened wants to blame everything on the world around you and not your flaws that you've ignored all this time. Anyone could see that your refusal to sit with your grief and just feel was your Achilles' heel.

"Okay. I'm sorry for mentioning it. But I am absolutely on your side, amor, I'm always on your side. So if you want to tell your Dad, tell him. If you want me there next to you or if you want me out of the country whilst you do it, then I'll do it. I will do whatever you want me to." Alexia tells you, her voice pleading as earnest swirled around the eyes that bore down into you.

Well, you thought, that's good to know.

"Thank you." You smile ever so slightly, dropping your fork and placing a hand on her leg. You squeeze her knee three times, one more chance for her to understand the love you held for her.

"De nada, amor. Now eat up, please."

The pair of you spent the rest of the evening delicately dancing around the untamed elephant from earlier whose patience was wearing thin at the prospect of going entirely avoided for the night. Conversation topics were kept light, finally giving you a brief reprieve from the onslaught of your mind, and Alexia kept her arms tight as they wrapped around you. It was as if with each breath you let out or with each twitch of your body, she held on tighter and tighter, every hint of movement from you a reminder of your presence and how much she ineffably adored you.

Yet, the sun began to set, indicating that it was almost time for Alexia to leave for the night. She had to get up early tomorrow whilst you had the day off, and initially Alexia always agreed that when this was the case, you should sleep separately so that you could rest. However, as she collected her bag and slipped on her shoes, she kept her movements purposely slow to delay her departure. The last thing she wanted to do was leave you alone.

"Are you sure you will be okay tonight?" Alexia sighs, a reluctant hand on the door handle.

"I'll be okay." You answer simply, hesitating for a moment to decide on your goodbye gesture, before settling for a lone kiss on the cheek.

"Call me, immediately, if that changes. If you wake up in the night and need me, I will be straight here. If you call me in the middle of training, I will be straight here. Please. Don't suffer on your own."

Oh Alexia. If only you weren't so late.

"Everything will be okay, Ale." You tell her, desperately trying to disguise the emotion threatening to break through. "Te veo pronto, sí?"

"Sí. I love you." Alexia smiles, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, then opening the door.

"I know." Is all you can say now to that declaration. And fuck, if Alexia hadn't felt so uneasy in her life after that.

Somehow, you managed to sleep that night. Maybe it was your body allowing you to build up all the strength you need for the day ahead, because your life was about to be irreversibly changed. And the worst was yet to come.

"Hi Dad." You murmur quietly from your place in the corner of your sofa, legs tucked underneath you as you pitifully hold onto a cushion for comfort.

"Well, it's been a while since I've heard from you." The man on the other side of the phone chuckles spitefully. "Remembered who I was again?"

"Hm. How have you been?" The best way to deal with such a man was to ignore his behaviour, in the hopes he dropped the act when you didn't give a reaction. Perhaps you underestimated him.

"That's a loaded question, you know that. It's all everyone asks nowadays and I'm fucking sick of it." He grumbled, and for the first time in a while it sounded like his anger wasn't directed at you.

"I do know that." You stated.

"So why ask then? Still as dense as ever, I see."

Okay, well, clearly you judged him too soon.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." You mumble insecurely, a frown settling on your face as you try to hold back the emotions you knew would spill out sooner rather than later.

"Don't lie to me." He snapped through gritted teeth. "You couldn't give a shit about me if your life depended on it. Be honest and tell me what you want, I have better things to do than talk to you."

"I... I have a girlfriend, Dad. Here in Barcelona, I've met someone." You reveal with a hint of a smile on your face.

All morning, you'd been in over your head on whether to tell him about Alexia. Part of you thought it was futile since you had already decided on your future with her, or rather, the lack thereof. But the naïve and childish part of you painfully thought he could be happy. That wasn't a concept this man had understood as of late, so it was a wonder why you'd thought he'd be happy for you. Especially given his latest behaviour, and his long-standing opinion on your sexuality. If only your Mother was here.

"Wow. Because I couldn't give you the life you want after your Mum left-" he could never say the true reason for her absence out loud, "-you look for it elsewhere? What did I tell you about doing that? A home can't be a person, kiddo, you need to stop looking for that. Your Mother wasn't home, I'm not home, this new 'girlfriend' isn't home, a person cannot be a fucking home! You're just desperate to fill in the love that's absent in the death of your Mother. Get a fucking grip of yourself and get over it, this 'girlfriend' business. You know your Mum would never have stood for this."

Silence.

Of all the words in the world, across all languages and cultures, over all periods of time, there was only one description to be used of how you felt right now. In your little flat in the heart of Barcelona, cowering in the corner of the couch, you felt suffocated. Any semblance of clarity, peace, hope, love - suffocated, by the words of your father, by the events that had changed you for the worse throughout your life, by the burden of simply just living.

Except, the words 'living' and 'simply' could never be used in the same sentence, because that wasn't a possibility. Every aspect of human nature wasn't simple, that's the beauty in it. The thousands of tiny mechanical functions in your body that allow you to breathe, the hundreds of muscles exerting themselves daily for one small step, the twitches and spasms of nerve endings to feel just a little alive. And despite it only requiring thirteen miniscule muscles to smile compared to forty-seven to frown, the latter felt so much easier. The weight of a smile had never seemed so damning, so suffocating.

The promise of life was a unique one, that's common knowledge and yes, life is beautiful, but any glorification of the struggle of living was inefficacious, nothing could extinguish the flame of the fire inside of your mind that was already uncontrollably burning through your self-preservation. No promise of light one day shining in your world again was worth it; you were merely a shadow of the people you loved.

"Okay Dad." You choke out. Even uttering one word was such a fucking exhausting challenge. "I... I planned on breaking up with her anyway. I think I want to come home."

You expected the feeling of verbalising your plans to be freeing, but the gravity of what you were going to do grounded you so humbly it almost almost stopped your heart entirely.

"Wow, I mean, if I had known that you would listen to my opinion and follow my advice so quick, I would have given it more often." He laughed maliciously, his way of celebrating your fall from grace.

"Can I come home?" You can't stop yourself in time from asking that question in such a begging tone. Another victory for him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetheart. If you're that desperate, maybe stay with your grandparents. Perhaps they'll want you." He sighed as he said it as if he was in a rush, acting like speaking to his daughter was such a chore. "Listen kiddo, you done now? I've gotta go."

"Yep, I'm done. Can I see you if I come home?" The question was paired with a hasty swipe away of tears as if the man hundreds of miles away could see them.

"Oh honey. You fascinate me. You're at danger of almost being interesting now, you know that?" He laughed once more at his own words before hanging up.

Silence again. Such a plaguing thing.

The weight of the conversation you just had collapsed down on you, a whirlwind of emotions surging through you as a result of it. Each beat of your heart served as a reminder of every word spat at you from the man you once thought held all the love you had to give, the thump against your chest echoing his disappointment and distaste for you. A daughter's love for their father was undoubtedly one of the most dangerous things to themselves, proving that point yourself as you mentally scrambled to find a way to mend the fractured bond, yet each time coming up empty, feeling powerless and minute in the face of your father's disappointment. Every response from that man carved deep wounds of guilt and regret into every crevice of your mind.

Behind a facade of stoicism, a torrent of emotions fulminated throughout your body - a spiteful mix of every insecurity, every doubt, every shattered dream, it all coming together to form the final piece of the puzzle that was needed to make the decision to break out of your life. There was no other choice.

Outwardly, there wasn't a hint of such breakage shown anywhere on your body. And that's how it had to be, that's how you had to be. Completely numb to it all until you had escaped this turmoil.

By 2pm, everything was different.

Flight booked. Every suitcase you owned bursting at the seams, waiting by the door. Apartment tenancy ripped up. Your resignation handed in to your work. Every bit of furniture, every little trinket, all of it ready to be left behind. Despite it all, the most heartbreaking symbol of your new start, was the cardboard box of Alexia's belongings sat in the passenger seat of your car as you drove, waiting to be dropped off discreetly outside her door.

Your life was the perfect image to sum up how quick things can change. Twenty-four hours ago, you were walking to the local supermarket to pick up the stuff to make a perfect meal for you and your girlfriend to eat and have a quiet, relaxed evening together. Now? You were driving to said girlfriend's apartment, equipped with the words to tear your lives apart.

Oh, how things change.

In the blink of an eye, you were parked up outside her apartment building. You had the key to her apartment in your hand and the code to enter the complex memorised for one more use. You failed to notice her car parked in her usual space as you walked through the car park. The heaviness of the box was nothing compared to the heaviness in your chest of what you were about to do.

Ears ringing, eyes blurred with unshed tears, throat burning and constricted, your bones aching under the weight of purely just existing, all of it immensely overwhelming. But you were numb still. Numb and out of tune with your feelings, because you had to be. Otherwise, all of this couldn't happen. There was no way any of this would be possible if you just listened to what your heart wanted. No, that devil on your shoulder had gotten its way once again.

"Oh, what are you doing here?"

Fuck.

You had truly done it this time, because here Alexia was, standing in the doorway of her apartment as you froze at the sight of her.

"What are you doing here?" You ask frantically, desperately praying for her attention to be anywhere but the box of her stuff in your arms.

"Well, this is my apartment, amor. I just got back from training but I left my phone in my car." Alexia answers, an eyebrow raised down at you. Of course she'd catch on that something was wrong. She always did. It was one of the things you loved her for. "What's this? Are you a delivery driver now?"

She laughs to herself as she says it, taking the box from your arms and placing it on the floor. You're still stuck to the spot, eyes wide in fear at what she was about to find, and your heart thumps angrily against your chest in protest, trying to get you to react in some way. But it's too late. Alexia has already opened the box and began to read the letter in there before you could stop her.

The smile on her face immediately dissipates at the first line.

"To Ale, I'm sorry... what do you mean?" She asks, glancing up at you briefly before continuing to read it.

That's when your body finally decides to react. You slowly back away from the woman in front of you, but Alexia grabs your wrist tightly to stop you from running away.

"No, you will not leave my sight right now. Explain this fucking letter, what is going on?" Alexia attempts to sound commanding, but there's a certain glisten to her eyes and a lump in her throat. "What is going on? Tell me, now, please."

"I... I'm sorry, Alexia." You croak out, rushing to wipe the tears already falling with the sleeve of your sweater. "I am sorry, you have to know that."

"Sorry about what!?" Alexia shouts, then takes a deep breath to compose herself momentarily. "Come inside, sit down, and please can we talk?"

"Everything I have to say is in the letter, Alexia, I-"

"No, no it is not. This letter is hardly a whole page. You've come to my apartment with a box of my stuff and a letter that starts with the words 'I'm sorry', I'm not letting you leave." Alexia says, and you have no choice but to listen to her. However, she softens for a moment, and the lost look on her face tugs on every one of your heart strings. She takes one of your hands and squeezes it three times, resulting in another stream of tears from yourself. "Please. Whatever is going on, give us a chance to solve it. I need you to explain what's happened so I can help you, amor. Please."

You relent easily, forever at her mercy, and follow her into her apartment. She leaves the stacked box by the front door, completely unbothered by it - in fact, she doesn't ever want to look inside it if this conversation goes the way she thinks it'll go. She's kicking herself mentally, her mind already skimming over every interaction she's had with you recently, desperately trying to plot a point in time where your attitude had changed. It's easy for her to do so, the moment jumps out almost immediately. If only she hadn't been so scared, so cautious, maybe she could have solved this before it was too late.

"What do you want me to say, Ale?" You sigh exasperatedly as you sit on the edge of her sofa, eyes fixated on your fidgeting hands.

"What do I want you to say? Amor, I want you to be honest and explain why you're sorry, why you've come over with all my stuff, why you've written me this letter. It's all come out of nowhere, I have no idea what's going on and I just want you to clue me in. Yesterday we were laughing together and having a nice evening, and now you're... I don't even want to say it." Alexia laughs nervously as she speaks, her shoulder stuck up in a shrug as her hands gesture eratically.

"It's okay, I'll say it for you." Your false facade takes over, body armoured with a hard exterior. "I'm leaving, Ale. I'm leaving Barcelona, leaving Spain."

To hear you say those words were perhaps the greatest pain Alexia has ever felt in her life.

"Leaving... leaving me?" She whispers quietly, the question punctuated with a gulp as she swallows her emotions.

She sounds eerily similar to a young, innocent child who's just lost all they've ever known. It makes you wonder for a brief second if you're a sick individual for causing such pain, but you shun those thoughts away for a later date, because right now you need all the feigned courage you can muster up.

"Yes." The ease with which you say it sends shivers down her spine. It's the hardest sentence you've ever had to say, and it's just one word - once more an example of how life can never be conformed to simplicity.

"Why are you being so cold? This is not the woman I know." Alexia practically pleads, inching closer to you on the sofa. Her hands land on your knees, but you're too far in to back out now.

"I don't know who I am anymore, Alexia. I need time and space to figure my shit out, that's what is best for me right now and that's why I have to go." She scoffs in your face once you've finished, and that's the moment this conversation goes far more downhill you could have expected.

"What about me? What about what's best for me? You're leaving me behind!"

"Leaving you behind? You're acting like a sad dog that I've just abandoned in the middle of nowhere! You were perfectly fine in your life, your very successful and established life might I add, before I came along and you'll be better off without me!" You snap back. This is not the direction you thought this would go. "Why can't you accept the fact I need to leave?"

"Because I fucking love you! I love you and I don't want to live a life that doesn't have you in it! But maybe I should grow out of that opinion since it seems so easy for you to turn off your feelings for me, so easy for you to be so selfish at the flick of a switch."

"Selfish? I'm being selfish?" You repeat her words back to her with an outraged laughter that sounds all too familiar to you. Is this who you've turned into? "I'm being selfish for choosing what's best for me? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time on my own to figure my life out? I'm being selfish for wanting to take time to grieve my own, dead Mother?"

Alexia's face falls as soon as those words come out of your mouth. Never in her life had a sentence caused such a visceral reaction from her because it feels like someone's just plunged a dagger right into her heart. She'd been too panicked, too focused, on her own feelings to even wonder why you had made this decision. She had been the selfish one for jumping to conclusions and now her lethal arguments had completely tanked the conversation. The possibility that there was no coming back from her vicious assumptions instilled a deeper, darker fear in her than she had ever felt in her life.

"No, no, I didn't-" She begins to dig herself out of the hole she finds herself in, but you're in no mood to entertain her begging.

"Good one. Really funny, that." You stand up and go to walk away, but not without one last attempt from Alexia to stop you.

"I didn't mean that, I swear, I am just so confused and scared and-"

"Do you not think I'm scared too? This will be the second time I've uprooted my life and regretted everything I have ever done. I'm terrified to leave, terrified to find out what's waiting for me at home, terrified to figure maybe this is all I am and that there's no better side of myself to find." Your voice trembles with a mix of fear and fury. "I've realised that throughout our whole relationship, from the moment I stepped into this country, I've been someone that I'm not. Losing my Mum was losing the biggest part of myself, and everything I've done from then 'til now has just been a poor attempt at filling in the hole in my heart-"

"S-so, what, you're saying our relationship was fake?" Alexia splutters out. You pause at her words, completely caught off-guard by her utterly stupid and inept fight back.

"That's what you caught from all that?" You ask, dumbfounded. "Right. Because it's always about you, Alexia, isn't it? This whole conversation has just been you talking about yourself. Have you even properly heard what I've said? Have you read more than the first line of my letter?" The guilty look on her face says it all. "That's what I thought."

"But I... I know what it's like to lose a parent, amor, I can help you!"

"Wow. For the sake of us both, don't go there, Alexia. Don't." You fix her a warning glare, shaking your arm out of the grasp of her hand.

"You can't leave. You can't, I won't let you. It's not right." She speaks sternly again now, a final plea for your relationship.

"Oh, fuck off Alexia. You have the emotional maturity of a teenage boy. I'm done with this now. Good luck at the World Cup this summer."

You walk out and slam her door shut without looking back.

Alexia's life had just taken a nosedive, because a breakup was absolutely not on her agenda for the day. The hand that had grabbed your arm earlier tingled with the stain of your touch and certain areas of the room were tainted by the lingering scent of your perfume. One conversation and you had vanished from her life - an excruciating result caused by her own incompetency to act like a decent human being.

For some time after you had left, she had been stuck rooted to her sofa, her mental temporarily ruined by the events of the day. A traumatic event had occurred, this was a natural reaction, to go into shock. To be so damaged by something that all she could do was sit and be consciously unconscious to the world around her until her body and mind could recover.

There was one phrase that ran circles around her mind. It isn't fair. What that defiance was directed at, she wasn't so sure yet. At first it had been you, but as the clouds cleared a little, it was obvious that it wasn't. Despite her words earlier and how accusing they came out, she didn't blame you. Not one bit. No, her anger was aimed at the so called 'fate' bullshit that everyone championed so often. How can people praise such a phenomenon when it had brought so much evil into people's lives? It felt like everything came at the price of something, and that's not fair.

For Alexia? It felt like her career came with the price of her Father. Everything she had done was because of him, and he couldn't even be here to see it. No, because fate or destiny or whatever other nickname it had, had taken that opportunity away from her. It isn't fair. For you? If anyone asked you, in the future when you're in your rocking chair, a knitted blanket draped over you and the waves of the ocean lapping away in front of your eyes, you'd say that in this period of time you had gained the world for the price of your soul. This dichotomy of good and evil sometimes felt like it wasn't worth the fight because in cases like this, it just wasn't fair.

The realisation of it all left a sour taste in Alexia's mouth. But something seemed to snap in her, some higher power finally giving her a backbone, and she sprung into action. You didn't deserve any of the stuff that had happened to you, and she sure as hell wasn't going to be another name on that list. One of her worst fears, a view shared by all of humanity, was to remember someone she loved in such a gut-wrenchingly awful way that it tarnished her entire memory of them. That's something she couldn't do with you. If you were to end this, it had to be on good terms.

So, she grabbed her keys and headed down to her car, where her phone still was. Alexia was a determined woman; when she put her mind to something, she got it done. This would be no different.

Call after call, after call, after call, came through on your phone from the one woman you probably least expected. There was only so long you could hold her off because, after all, you were once in a relationship with the woman, meaning you got a front row seat to her persistance.

"Hi, uh, Alexia. What do you want?" You say when you answer, finally.

"We have to talk more." Alexia rushes out quickly, for lack of better words and composure.

"I don't know if I want that after what happened earlier." You state in a defensive tone. But secretly, you craved nothing more.

"I know, and I am so so sorry for all that. It was so selfish and awful of me, I regretted every word that came out of my mouth the second I said it. I just... can we talk again? Please?" She begs, her hand fidgeting against the steering wheel of her car as tears silently rolled down her cheeks. "I would hate myself if I didn't at least try for this, amor, let me try."

"The decision is final, Ale, you can't change it. I'm sorry. You said yesterday that you would do whatever I wanted you to do. Well, this is what I need you to do, Alexia. I need you to let me go."

"Okay." Alexia squeezes her eyes shut, tears spilling out the corners, and her clenched fist comes to rest against her forehead. "Can I see you one more time? So I can properly apologise? I have no other intentions than that, I promise. I just... I can't remember you that way. I can't remember us in the way we left it. It doesn't give us as people any respect and it does not do justice to the beauty of our relationship."

That was the tipping point for you. There's the woman you love.

"Okay." You smile and sit up in your bed where you previously lay in a cocoon of your own pity. "How about we meet on neutral grounds this time?"

"Let's do that." Alexia responds, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

Some time later, you found yourself walking along the promenade of the beach, looking for where Alexia said she was seated on one of the benches. It was a chilly evening with no help from the sea, so you had your hands tucked into your coat pockets and your chin hidden under the zip of your coat. Alexia had spotted you long ago, a content smile on her face at the all too familiar sight of you and your distaste for the cold. You recognise her soon after, taking a deep breath before approaching her.

"Hi." You mumble, muffled by your jacket and the wind whipping around you. Alexia hears it of course.

"Hi. Sit down, please?" Alexia taps her hand on the wooden slats of the bench beside her, and you quickly follow suit. "I, uh... got you this."

She hands over a takeaway cup of hot chocolate. Your favourite.

"Thank you. Something to keep my hands warm." You say, happy to see her laugh quietly and nod.

"Exactly why I got it."

The pair of you sit in silence for a while, encapsulated by the serenity of the sky and the elegance of the ocean. Strangely, you realise, the two things resemble you and Alexia. Two things of beauty that never quite meet, never quite mend, just a parallel that reflects each other. You can't tell if that's a horrifying allusion or a calming one.

"So, what's this then, a... a post-mortem of our relationship?" You joke, giggling when Alexia scrunches her nose at the suggestion.

"I mean... you could say that." She shudders as she says it, not quite at peace with the new revelation. She's not sure she ever will be.

"I have to go, Alexia. I... it's so hard leaving you behind. It's the hardest decision I've ever made, but it's one I have to make. I hope you know that."

"I do. I do know that. I want you to know I understand. I'll never be... content with it, but... it's a necessary evil." Alexia has her eyes cast down on her coffee cup, fiddling with the lid. You notice and take hold of one of her hands, intertwining your fingers perhaps for one final time.

"It is. I've got no energy to fight anymore. I need to sit with my emotions and all that shit," You pause as you sigh dramatically, making her laugh once more. "So that I can figure out who I am after all this. Doing that whilst in a relationship isn't fair on either of us. It'll only lead to something more soul destroying, no matter how hard this conversation is."

"I know." Alexia purses her lips and nods, finding the strength to look at you. A genuine smile breaks out onto her face. "I had a feeling something was wrong a little while ago. I guess I'm just... angry. That I can't solve it."

"I'm angry that I can't solve it." You repeat, a sad smile on your face. "There's just a lot wrong with me, I think. And I can't burden you with it all. I have a lot of baggage I drag along and there's an awful lot of cracks in my mind-"

"There's cracks in everything, amor, that's how the light shines in."

You had half a mind to berate her for interrupting you again, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Why were you leaving this woman again?

"I'll value you forever, Ale. Nothing could make me change that, even if we left things at what happened before. You're the most astounding person I've ever met, and even when I'm breaking your heart, you still treat me better than anyone else. If we forget what happened at your apartment." You tease, the both of you chuckling lightly.

"It's hard to hate you when you're breaking my heart so gently." Alexia states. "I'll always love you. It's probably not the right thing to say but it's the truth."

"No, I... I'll always love you too." You respond, absolutely certain. Despite the predicament you both find yourselves in, Alexia finds every bit of relief and closure she could ever need in that one simple sentence.

"When do you... when do you leave?" She asks with a sniffle.

"I fly out later tonight." You answer quietly.

"Will you come back one day?" It's the one thing she knows she probably shouldn't say, but she can't resist. She has to know.

"I don't know, to be honest." She turns away and nods slowly. You squeeze her hands three times.

"If you do, will you let me know?"

You can't promise her that, and she knows it.

"I will." You smile softly up at her.

You both fall into silence once more. This one feels a little less suffocating than those of the past. There's still so much more to say, but as your head falls to rest on Alexia's shoulder and you both look out at the view that had been the background of your relationship, neither of you can name a reason to interrupt the peace that's settled. It's perhaps more peace than either of you had felt in a long time.

The thing is, about the ocean and the sky, is that they do meet. They're one and the same in their own essence, and in the distance, they do eventually meet. And the sun will rise again. Two inevitable occurrences that form at the hands of a little thing called fate. Or destiny. Or whatever it is.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso community #woso imagine #Spotify

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vivid-ink · 1 year ago

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Kinktober #1 - Handjob "Mission Accomplished"

fem!HumanReader x Neteyam or Lo'ak (you pick! 😉)

Summary: You've been asked to fill in for Norm on one of his Na'vi patient observations, except this isn't any old observation appointment... You need to collect a semen sample and the appointment doesn't go at all to professional plan...

Warnings: 🔞 Sexual content 18+, MDNI 🔞 Word count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Happy Kinktober everyone! 😁 I'm late with this prompt as it was completely unplanned. I got inspired late last night after posting Part 4 of 'The Love Shack' and this is what my brain spat out! As usual, my inability to write short drabbles means that what was meant to be a short, sweet kink-scene turned out to be 4.6k. I've not used any names in this piece, so you're free to imagine either Neteyam or Lo'ak as the male lead in this. Enjoy the spice ya'll!

Tagging some mooties who may be interested (no pressure though): @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @adrianarose7 @vintaqestar @eyweveng @qcswrites @daeneeryss @oasiswithmyg @delacruzyari @teymars @neteluvr @sulieykte @teyamsatan

And OMG (I feel absolutely rotten for overlooking this until now) - Thank you to the incredible @cinetrix for her render of Neteyam which I've used in the story cover.

You swallowed tightly as Dr Blaise briefed you around the purpose of today’s observation and what was required of you. Your heart was galloping in your chest and you could feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat. It amazed you how unconcerned and unaffected she was about the whole thing.

“It’s a simple observation. We’re looking for any key physical differences in appearance, as well as any differences in physiological function.” Dr Blaise stated casually, “No swabs or bloods needed today. Just some notes, photos, and a semen sample. There are sample collection jars in the consultation bay already.”

A semen sample… Good Lord, she said that with all the nonchalance of someone asking for a saliva sample. Though you figured that’s what medical professionalism was all about, right? No awkwardness, no emotion, just plain science and fact.

When Dr Norm Spellman had said that he was writing a book about Pandoran Biology and Na’vi Physiology, you’d jumped at the opportunity to be involved. After all, Pandora was your home. It was the only home you’d ever known. As one of the only two human babies to be born on Pandora, you and Spider were the only generation of humans who’d never known the dying mother planet Earth.

Unlike Spider though who had taken to life on Pandora like a duckling to water, scaling trees, swinging from branches and pretty much adopting himself into the Omatikaya clan, you weren’t anywhere near as outgoing. You’d stuck to the medical labs and the avatar camp for majority of your life, rarely venturing out into the wilderness except to accompany the other scientists on their excursions. Perhaps the only similarity you shared with Spider was that you too were an orphan of war. Your parents had been on the frontlines of the battle between Toruk Makto and the RDA, and they’d met their maker on that fateful day.

You were just an intern currently, but the older staff and scientists were more than willing to teach you. Doing lab observations, drawing blood and other lab technician work was your job, so this morning’s appointment shouldn’t have been any different. And yet it was.

You’d never had to collect a semen sample before.

“Patient is a young unmated male, 23 years of age. Fit. Occupation is hunter-warrior. No pre-existing medical conditions and no recent injuries.” Dr Blaise rationally, handing you the clipboard and pen, “The patient has also been briefed about this appointment, so he knows what to expect and he’s aware he needs to produce a sample.”

“Right, understood.” You mumbled and the words were slightly hoarse. You cleared your throat, dislodging the sticky lump of uneasiness there.

Sensing your discomfort, Dr Blaise placed a heartening hand on your shoulder. Her eyes were kind and the crows’ feet at their corners crinkled as she smiled, “Look, the patient is friendly with the team, one of Jake Sully’s sons actually. So you needn’t worry about any hostility. You’ve done numerous observations and collected all sorts of samples. This is no different. It’s only awkward if you’re awkward. Besides, I’m sure you can understand why Dr Spellman didn’t want to conduct this particular observation himself, what with them being family friends and all.”

A giggle and snort left you at the humorous thought and you found you had to agree. Dr Blaise chuckled alongside you. It would definitely be ten times more awkward if the patient and medical professional were familiar with each other during this observation.

The fleeting moment of hilarity eased the nervous roil in your belly. Tucking your pen into the breast pocket of your lab coat, you took a deep breath and nodded, “Ok, I’ve got this. Thanks Dr Blaise.”

With two thumbs up and a wink, Dr Blaise turned and left you to depart down the corridor, her black pump heels clicking neatly across the hard floor.

Turning to the wall, you grabbed an exopack kit and hooked it to the leather belt around your hips. Tucking your hair behind your ears, you positioned the mask over your face and returned to the doorway that led into the consultation bay. The doorway was tall, much taller than you were used to. All the consultation bays were built big enough with high enough ceilings to accommodate the Na’vi and the avatars. While the main ventilation in the compound was suited to human lungs, the consultation bays were fitted with ventilation to suit their Pandoran patients. Scanning your ID card on the panel of blinking lights on your right, the door slid open with a hiss and you stepped into the bay.

The first thing that always hit you when you entered any of the consultation bays was the sterile scent of it. After a couple of years working here you’d think you’d have got used to it, but every single time the smell was like a synthetic slap to your senses. You wrinkled your nose in distaste. Everything smelled so chemical; too clean and too artificial. It was no wonder the Na’vi didn’t like being in here. If the smell was strong to your human nose, you could only imagine how much more potent it was to their heightened senses.

The second thing to hit you this morning was the sight of the magnificent creature that was standing in the corner of the bay, peering at the various medical models, instruments and books in the wall-mounted glass cabinet. He’d been facing away from you at first, but the sound of your footsteps had caught his attention and he turned to face you then.

A genial smile stretched across his face and he greeted you in a voice that was deep and warm, “Good morning, doctor.”

His use of English surprised you and while his words were accented, his pronunciation was clear. Go figure that Jake Sully would’ve taught his children to speak his mother tongue.

You gave a clumsy laugh and you were quick to correct your patient, “Oh, I’m not a doctor. I’m just an intern. I’m just filling in for Dr Spellman for this observation.”

Your patient grinned toothily at you and gave a nod of his head in acknowledgement, although his tone was teasing when he replied, “Alright Dr ‘Just-An-Intern’, where would you like me?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up from your throat at his playful demeanour. You smiled at him. He was charming this one, handsome too. Like all Na’vi, he towered well above you in height at approximately nine and a half feet. Though you noted that he was very well-built. Courtesy of being a warrior, you supposed. Yes, he was muscular in all the places you appreciated in a male… You silently reprimanded yourself for your unprofessional thoughts.

“Just take a seat on that gurney for me.” You replied, gesturing towards the make-shift bed against the wall. Retrieving your pen, you began to scan through the notes at the top of the form on the clipboard, double-checking the patient’s details and ensuring everything on it was as it should be.

“Ah, do you want me to take my tewng (loincloth) off?”

Suddenly remembering the aim of the observation again, you felt hot blood rush to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment, “Umm, yes please.” And in a bid to stop your embarrassment running away with your courage, you launched into a rambling outline of the appointment agenda, “Today’s appointment is an observation around Na’vi male genitalia and sexual function. I’m going to need to make some notes and take some photographs of you, both in a r-relaxed and a-aroused state, and I’m going to need to collect a s-semen sample. If you feel uncomfortable at any point…”

He watched you attentively as you babbled onward, the smooth skin of your face and neck taking on a ruddy and flushed hue. He smiled to himself. You were shy and today’s agenda clearly made you uneasy. He felt a twinge of empathy for you. His father had told him that humans were private about matters of the body, especially where it came to sex and pleasure. The Na’vi held no such restraints; sexual freedom was celebrated.

He’d already removed his tewng and had perched himself on the gurney as instructed, unbothered and uncaring of his own nakedness. He was quietly enjoying your discomfort, but not in a rude or condescending manner. He actually found your unease rather endearing.

“Any questions?” Your prattling came to a finish and you took a deep inhale as if you’d squeezed every last ounce of oxygen out of your lungs rushing to finish your speech without taking another breath.

He graced you with another charming smile, “No. You may proceed.”

Willing yourself to get a grip, you walked on slightly shaky legs to the desk in the corner and plucked the glass tablet from its stand and returned to place it on the end of the gurney. You kept your eyes lowered to your clipboard, filling in the date and the time. You could see the striped cobalt of his muscular legs in your peripheral vision where he sat with his shins dangling off the gurney. For the meantime, you dared not glance any higher than his thighs…

Your eyes moved to a set of highlighted bullet points in the middle of the page that indicated questions the patient had to be asked.

You read the first question aloud, its meaning registering simultaneously in your brain as the words left your lips, “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

You fought the mortification that threatened to consume you and your mind struck up a chant of ‘stay professional, stay professional’ in your head.

“Yesterday morning.” His answer was composed.

“And was that with a partner or was it self-stimulated?” Fuck, maybe you should’ve read the questions before coming in for the observation…

“It was self-stimulated.”

“And do you have a preference for male partners, female partners, or both?”

“Female. Definitely female.”

His voice was a smooth, velvety rumble. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something in his tone stroked over you like an invisible caress that made something clench in your lower belly. You scribbled his answers on the page in a messy scrawl that had more to do with your nerves than your actual style of handwriting.

He continued to observe you as you worked. Your knuckles were pale where your left hand gripped hold of the clipboard and you were so focused, almost concentrating too hard on what you were writing. Nose twitching quietly, he parted his lips and scented the air around. The artificial smell of the bay was unpleasant, but a sweeter and much more appealing smell was filling the vicinity now. Your scent.

The blush on your skin remained and he was sure that if he reached out to touch you that your skin would be hot to the touch where your blood had rushed to the surface. He could smell hints of your perspiration and he could also detect a musky and moist feminine undertone. You were attracted to him… His masculine pride delighted in the realisation. Despite your human form, he found you attractive too.

Finishing up your notes, you settled the clipboard down on the gurney and mentally prepared yourself for the ‘looking’ part of the observation.

Eyes still glued to the brown leather of the gurney’s mattress, you declared your next action, “Alright, just stay relaxed for me with your thighs slightly parted. I’m going to begin the physical part of the observation now.”

“Sure.”

Your gaze travelled from the beautiful stripes on his outer thighs inward to the slightly paler blue of his inner thighs and finally, up to his groin. Suddenly, you didn’t understand why you were so nervous about this. He looked fairly… normal? Apart from the general larger size of everything and the blue hue of his skin, everything was as expected. Feeling a little braver now, you grabbed the glass tablet and took a couple of photos and then set it down to return to your clipboard.

“Is everything the same?” He asked out of the blue, “Same as with human males, I mean.”

You looked to his face instinctively and found his amber eyes trained on you, “Ah yes, more or less. Penis, foreskin, testes; everything expected is there and I haven’t noted any real differences in physiology apart from the lack of hair, but that’s consistent with the lack of body hair all Na’vi have apart from on your heads and tail tufts.”

Following the words down the clipboard sheet you came to a section that was titled ‘Texture and Sensitivity’. You paused. How the fuck were you supposed to assess those? The section didn’t have any required questions or sample questions to help you, and no suggestions either, just a space for you to jot down your notes. You looked from your patient’s body and then to his face, and when he gave you a small smile, your gaze shot back down to your clipboard sheet in embarrassment. Texture and sensitivity were tactile aspects. You didn’t really understand how you could assess them without touching the patient.

Evidently you were taking too long in your deliberation, because your patient’s voice sounded again with a gentle query, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry. I’m just trying to work out how to assess the next bit.” You apologised sheepishly. You weren’t doing a very good job of appearing collected, you realised.

“What’s the next part?”

“Texture and sensitivity. So, what it feels like and which parts respond the most to touch.” You stated in as even a voice as possible. You huffed out a laugh then and shrugged, “It’s a tricky one because they’re tactile observations and I don’t know how to assess them when you can’t touch the patient.”

“Why can’t you touch the patient?” His response was clearly a surprise to you and he couldn’t suppress his grin as you goggled at him in shock, “You can touch me if it will enable you to do your job.”

You were almost about to say that you couldn’t possibly do that, but you stopped yourself. You were a med-science professional. The patient was consenting and your research required you to perform a physical examination. In a professional capacity, there was no reason you couldn’t touch the patient to achieve the intended outcome of the examination.

You remembered Dr Blaise’s words: It’s only awkward if you make it awkward. Fuck, you needed to swallow a bucket of concrete and toughen up. The sooner you completed this observation, the sooner you would be out of this uncomfortable situation.

Nodding resolutely, you agreed, “Alright, but you will guide me with your own hands. That way I can be assured that you’re only leading me where you’re comfortable to be examined.”

Your patient dipped his head in agreement, the tuft of his tail curling and uncurling charmingly on the gurney next to him. You set your clipboard down and moved to position yourself before him, standing between his knees. You lifted your eyes to his and they locked with his gentle gaze. Tentatively you offered him your hand and he took it, his large palm and long fingers engulfing it easily.

“So first up, texture?” He reminded, and you nodded.

Slowly, he brought your hand to his crotch and settled your hand over the shaft of his cock. It was very warm beneath your palm. Gently, your fingers tested the slightly springy flesh, noting how smooth and silken his skin was. At this closer proximity, you noticed that there was also spattering of bioluminescent freckles on the shaft. You made a mental note of that.

You touched the base of his cock, gingerly feeling around the length of it and you asked, “What’s the sensitivity like here?”

“I can feel it, but it’s not intense or anything. It’s more sensitive up here.” He guided your fingers nearer to the tip and you stifled a small gasp when he assisted you in pushing his foreskin back to reveal the smooth, dark purple head of his cock.

You’d never interacted with a naked man this close, human or Na’vi, and you certainly had never touched one in such an intimate place. Your body was starting to tingle in various places; in very unprofessional places. It was a surreal situation to be in and you found that you felt oddly calmer now than you were a few minutes ago.

Trailing the pads of your fingers over the smooth tip, you found it was moist and a little slippery. Your thumb tested the underside of it, “Sensation?”

A quiet hiss left him and you instinctively attempted to move your hand away, but his hold over your wrist kept it there, “That’s sensitive. That feels good.”

Your heart was still thumping and your cheeks were still warm, but it wasn’t nerves anymore that were causing your reaction. God, his skin was so soft and so warm… Your curiosity was growing now; your innate desire to explore taking hold of you.

You traced the raised rim of his cock head with your thumb and forefinger, watching as your patient emitted a rumbling groan. His hold on your wrist tightened and he began to move your hand over him. You intuitively wrapped your fingers around his cock. You felt entranced almost, caught up in the moment as you unwittingly began to enjoy the feel of him in your grasp.

The hot flesh in your hand was growing, elongating and engorging as the stimulation aroused him. You watched, amazed, as it swelled to its full capacity. The fingers and thumb of your hand could no longer meet each other. The girth of his cock was easily the same width as your forearm and by your approximations, it looked like it had also more than doubled in length from its relaxed state.

The erect shaft had lengthened out of his foreskin and it was a lovely shade of striated blue all over, except for a paler purple underside and head. In its aroused state, you discovered that while it shared structural similarities to a human male’s genitalia, it also possessed other aspects which were very different. The engorged shaft of his cock was ridged all along its length and as your hand smoothed up and down the column of it, you noted that the ridges were firm and palpable against your hand.

It was the most arousing thing you’d ever seen… Those ridges must feel so good inside for the woman…

You didn’t perceive his eyes on you, watching you as you explored his hard flesh. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even cotton on to the fact that he wasn’t even guiding your hand anymore. He could smell you, smell your arousal dampening between your thighs and the sight of your much smaller hand stroking and squeezing his cock was incredibly sexy.

You ran your enclosed hand in one full stroke from the base of cock and up to the head of it, fascinated by the ridged texture of it and the slippery, bulbous tip. However, your patient emitted a hissing intake of breath then and you jumped a little, snapping out of your thoughts.

“S-Sorry! Is that painful?” You stammered, shooting him a slightly apologetic frown.

He shook his head with a husky chuckle, “No, it’s just very sensitive. A lot more than earlier.”

“Where?” You asked, stroking him from tip to base and back up again.

“Everywhere. The ridges and the head especially.” His voice was notably breathier than before and his breaths were coming quicker, shallower and less even.

“That is fascinating.” You muttered, and your other hand joined in on your exploration. You fondled his balls lightly, observing the weightiness of them.

Your patient grunted and he parted his thighs a bit more. He leaned back to brace his weight on his palms behind him. He gave a small roll of his hips, which caused the top half of his cock to push and pull within your grasp. He moaned and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. When you didn’t object, he continued the motion, thrusting lightly into your hands, both of which were now grasping his length one on top of the other.

Clear and viscous pre-ejaculate began to ooze from his tip, increasing in quantity with each roll of his hips. It was so copious that it was beginning to pool on the backs of your palms and drip down towards your wrist. Lord help you… there was nothing professional anymore about what you were doing… Not that your patient appeared to have any objections…

Still completely spellbound by the situation, your curiosity pushed a murmured query past your lips, “Is there always so much pre-ejaculate?”

“Depends. Generally the more aroused a man is, the more he produces.” He replied and when your bashful gaze lifted to meet his, he smirked wickedly.

You were such a pretty little thing to him, your smaller hands trying their best to keep hold of his slick cock. He knew that this was beyond the normal boundaries of the appointment. He knew that while you would’ve been required to touch him to examine him, stroking him off was probably not anywhere on the agenda. He suspected he was supposed to produce the sample on his own, but looking at you now, so enraptured by his body… How could he have resisted? And besides, he knew you were enjoying this as much as he was, your scent told him so.

You tightened your hold on his cock experimentally, squeezing harder. Each time the swollen head of his cock pushed out of your hands to greet you, you swiped your thumb over the oozing slit on its tip. He was panting heavily now, his impressive abdominals bunching and flexing as he continued to thrust his thick cock through your hold. The bioluminescent freckles that dotted his shaft were glimmering brightly and you never thought you’d ever use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe genitalia, but his cock was gorgeous.

All of him was gorgeous, truth be told…

You were attracted to Na’vi men. Ever since you were old enough to notice the opposite sex, you’d been drawn to male Na’vi. After all, you’d grown up on this moon, inhabited by and surrounded by tall, beautiful Na’vi. The humans who surrounded you at the compound and the camp were your family, and they were all much older. There were no men of your own species to look at or be attracted to. Spider was the only one of your generation and he was like your annoying, gross brother. Your attraction to Na’vi men had been an inevitable result really.

So now as you stood in the consultation bay, between the knees of this striking and aroused Na’vi male while he pumped his cock in and out of your hands, you’d never felt more validated and aroused in your life.

Your patient’s fingers were digging into the squeaky brown leather of the gurney now, straining slightly as his hips continued their onslaught. Your hands and wrists were completely drenched, soaking in his thick pre-cum. The slippery mess caused his cock to squelch obscenely as it slipped through your hold. The whole situation was so sensually explicit and you were never more thankful in your life than you were now that there were no CCTV cameras installed in the consultation bays.

You’d be expelled from your chosen profession for patient abuse… Though by the half-lidded, slack-jawed expression of pleasure on his face, he didn’t look much like he was being unwillingly abused…

A string of Na’vi curses left him then, followed by several panted moans. He abruptly pushed off his palms to sit upright and he stuttered, “W-Where is the container?”

A little stunned by his sudden and urgent tone, you stumbled in your own response, “The w-what? Oh, the sample jar?”

Panting heavily through parted lips, he nodded at you and you pointed to the desk on his left. You saw his gaze follow your eyeline and when he caught sight of the plastic collection jars that sat patiently waiting, he let out a hearty guffaw.

He reached for one and deftly flicked the already loosened lid from its mouth, still chuckling away between his huffing breaths, “It’s so small. You ready, doc?”

“For what?” You asked, realising only as the words left you what a dumb response it was as he handed the sample jar to you.

Your patient smiled at you and it was a salacious leer, all narrowed eyes and pointed canines showing, “You’re about to get your sample.”

One of his hands returned to guide yours, wrapping around your one remaining hand where it encircled his stiff cock. The pace of this rocking thrusts increased and he began to exhale with throaty moans that you swore made your own feminine core throb with desire. Gingerly, you held the collection jar up to him, being extra careful not to drop it.

With two more lurching breaths, his abdominal muscles contracted and his back bowed inward, his entire torso going rigid. You felt his cock harden impossibly before it pulsed and the breath he was holding left him in a coarse growl while his face twisted into an almost pained expression. His cock pulsed again and the first spurt of ejaculate missed the sample jar entirely, landing with a warm splat in the middle of your chest where the frills of your blue blouse peeked out from behind your lab coat. Quickly, his free hand grabbed hold of yours to position the jar better, while his other hand attempted to position his cock so he could shoot straight into it.

He was absolutely breathtaking in the midst of his orgasm. The luminous freckles on his face were twinkling and the striped cobalt skin of his neck and chest was glossy with a sheen of sweat. His cock continued to throb and pulse, emitting rope after rope of thick cum that splattered untidily over the mouth and sides of the sample jar.

You could see why he’d laughed at the size of it. There was no way the small jar could have held the full volume of what he was producing.

Coming down now off the high of his climax, your patient slouched against the wall behind the gurney, breathing hard. He caught your eye and he grinned indolently at you.

The adrenalin and heightened arousal in the atmosphere was fading rapidly now, and cold, hard reality was slowly returning to you. You looked at the pearlescent contents of the sample jar, which was still decently full despite majority of the sample not making it in there. You smiled to yourself.

Mission accomplished and what an exciting mission it was…

Carefully setting the jar down on the flat worktop of the metal sink next to you, you replaced the lid on it with sticky fingers and made a note to thoroughly wipe the jar down later before handing it to the lab techs.

Returning your attention to your patient, you smiled at him, suddenly shy again, “Thank you for your co-operation today. I’ll leave you to clean and freshen up. You can see yourself out after.”

His answering laugh was husky and he dipped his head at you, “I should be thanking you for your co-operation I think, doc.”

“Not a doc, remember?” You grinned at him and you were about to turn on heel to depart into the adjacent washroom when you heard him call out to you again.

“Hey Not-A-Doc, if you ever need another sample, I’m happy to provide another one, whether for med-science research or your own personal research.”

A girlish giggle left you and you felt your face flame again. You shook your head, making your way into the washroom to clean yourself up. He was a naughty one that one…

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