#truly where shopping is a pleasure

[ratatatastic]

first kitty bogo award of the season (and fastest im pretty sure they beat their pb) goes to the sunrise welcome committee (no one is suprised)

[retiredteabag]

Wishful Thinking

arranged marriage with Nanami… a continuation

pt. 1 - pt. 2 - pt. 3 - next part

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

You would have never imagined, but as it turns out, you’ve only known your spouse 48 hours and you’ve already begun to love married life.

In this time, lots has occurred, for one, you had to explain to your husband repeatedly that you really, truly, genuinely, had absolutely no opinion on where to spend the honeymoon.

He didn’t take too fondly to that…

--

"Please-" You had insisted, "Wherever you'd like! Whatever you choose, I'll be very happy with."

He had sighed, running a hand down his face, "I would much prefer to hear where you enjoy traveling."

You had confessed that you never really had the chance to leave the estate or school. Only on rare occasions were you presented the opportunity to venture outside, even when working as a sorcerer. You hadn’t even been on a school trips.

"Mountains or beaches?" He asked, the two of you were seated on the shared couch, his morning coffee in hand.

"I don't mind. I would love to see either."

He seemed to blink for a second too long, breathing in, he offered, "Do you have an interest in cities? Or do you prefer the countryside?"

You just smiled, "I promise you, I don't have an opinion either way, whatever you like."

"Alright... Do you care to fly, or would you like a cruise?"

The idea stressed you out a bit. Shrugging, before you answer, he grumbles your name, "What do you enjoy? Shopping? Hiking? Sightseeing?" He doesn't give you time to respond, "Eating? What cuisine do you like, by the way? That might help you decide."

You hold up a wobbly hand, "Woah...um can I be honest?"

Your husband sits up straight. Just a day before, you would have never even considered speaking so casually, but, just as you anticipated, he reasures you quickly, "Please do."

"Well... the things is, I would really just prefer you to choose..."

Nothing would feel worse than if said anything he didn’t like. You can tell your husband is a cooperative guy, he would likely just go with whatever you offered. The problem is that you want him to be happy. And frankly, you're not really sure what you like. Making a decision would be too much right now. You hardly know the things you enjoy yourself.

--

That same day, Nanami had requested you view him as a friend, any mention of your "wifely duties" and he would grimace. Eventually, through your easy back and forth, you were able to persuade him into telling you what part he played in this union the two of you shared.

"I... well, I'll speak freely as you have done... I took very little pleasure in Jujutsu society for some time." He huffed.

You had known this much, but as he continued, your dread mounted even more.

"The higher ups were not so fond of this idea-"

"But-" You interrupted, "Oh, I'm sorry, but, you're not from a clan, how could they have any sway in your decision?"

He just grinned, "You must not know, in your position, but the higher-ups have lots of sway in any sorcerers life, despite my...birth status."

"I had no idea..."

This, at least, was news to you. "They believed that an arranged marriage would keep you in the world of sorcery?"

He looked at you strangely then, "Yes, they were sure of that much. That is, marriage to a fellow sorcerer, and," He paused momentarily and cleared his throat, tugging at his collar, "The prospect of a child." He finished.

Oh.

There was an awkward silence between you two. Neither making eye contact.

Too uncomfortable…

Mmm, we have a nice coffee table...

Should you say something...?

You grin slowly, "We’re more similar than I thought."

He looks up at you and suddenly you are cold in the heat of his gaze. He hums low in his throat, "I'm very glad you think so."

--

After much prattling, and assurance on your end that you REALLY did not want to pick the location of your honeymoon, Nanami made a slight offering of an opinion. That being an “adventure train”.

"Oh! That sounds lovely!" You immediately respond. Just grateful he finally said something he could look forward to.

You had no idea what an “adventure train” entailed.

He squinted accusatorily, "Oh, please, I know you're just saying that."

"No, I'm not" you pout, "I love trains...on summer and winter breaks I would ride the train from Tokyo home..."

Chuckling he smirks, "Yes, well, this would be a little different from those trains” he calls your name, “honestly, I would like to hear about you." He settles comfortably into the sofa.

Suddenly confused by this, you start, “Oh... what would you like to know?"

"About you." Hes so matter of fact, "I want to know about the real you. Not....this person you are right now."

You straighten your spine, "What-" you scoff, "What are you talking about?"

He just laughs, it's deep and his chest shutters a bit, "I'm talking about how you just live by what other people want. You haven't told me a single thing that you enjoy since we've been together, which I must admit hasn't been very long-"

"Exactly!” You point at him. Almost stick your tongue out, then think better of it.

"Which hasn't been very long-" he restates, "But really, just last night you couldn't even tell me the kind of food you wanted-"

"Because I really didn't mind! I would have loved anything!"

"Precisely. I want to know-" He leans in close and you almost gasp at the suddenness of it, "What you like." He twists a hair out of your face and grins, "If I asked, I doubt you could answer me your favorite color."

"Well...I-"

He tilts his head and suddenly you feel accused. "You like them all, don't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with that." You smirk.

"No." He finally gives you room, leaning back and examining you now. “No, not at all. But I doubt you have anything you could name me that you would like right now, like for me to do, or say, like to be given, like to-" "I'd like-" You start, "For you to stop with all this nonsense."

"Very good...that's a start, I'm sure you would like that- you little people pleaser."

"I don't think there is anything...wrong with trying to make people happy." You stare firmly. You mean it.

It's strange, just a moment ago, you felt uncomfortable making eye contact, but now, your gazes rival one another.

"Just so long as you're not... making yourself into whatever you think someone wants to see. Just so long as you are being yourself." He hums.

Okay, this wasn't fun anymore.

You lose the fight, looking at your hands instead of those striking eyes. If you were being honest with yourself, you don't even know those things that he spoke of. What you like, what you think, who you really are. Is it so wrong to just try to be... what everyone else wants?

"I'm not lying though..." You look up once more, "I really would rather you just pick what we eat and where we go..."

"I believe you." He's not smiling now, "Really, I do. But what I would like is to learn of what you want."

There's a small flare inside of you that burns iron hot with his pushing this point, you extinguish it, finally saying, "I don't know what I want. I think I just…want what you want." You roll your eyes, shrugging our more. You know he must find you ridiculous.

Nanami purses his lips, the hand that was previously on your hair, is now on your chin. He looks so serious, yet somehow, kind.

"I'll teach you."

Your heart thumps.

It won't work, you think.

What you don't know, is that Nanami Kento is the most persistent and dedicated man to walk the earth and he, unlike you, does not so easily give up.

--

The next morning, while you riffle through the luggage you have packed for your multi-destinational luxury excursion, you recall that moment on the couch when he brushed his hand across your jaw.

He had been so soft. How could a sorcerer, one of his caliber even, have such a gentle hand?

You shudder.

Shaking your head, you zip up your suitcase, run a hand across your goose-bumped arm, and try to focus your energy on things other than your husbands hands, or his laugh, or his voice-

You shut your door to your room a little too harshly.

A form in the kitchen startles at the noise and quickly shuffles to the hallway,

The energy you had so determinedly focused on less appealing thoughts fades to nothing as Nanami makes his way toward you, a mug in hand.

His hair looks tousled in an annoyingly handsome way, he’s dressed casually, but it looks undeniably attractive, his shirt is loose everywhere and when he moves, it outlines his waist.

His waist? God. Get yourself together.

"Are you alright?" Nanami calls your name. His brows are taught and he’s bend towards you slightly.

"What? Yes, yes I'm quite well. I-I've just finished packing, see?" You pull your over-large suitcase in front of you.

"Oh..." He smiles, "Well done. Well, would you?

Huh? “…Would I what?"

"...Like honey…” he lifts the cup he hold in a large hand, “in your tea?"

My tea?

Oh god, you hope he hadn't already asked you that. (He definitely had.)

"Oh! Uhh is there already some in there?" You point to the steaming cup in his hand.

He grins, and it looks unbelievably feline in nature. "No, first you tell me if you like honey in your tea."

You scoff. He was still on about this. "I drink it both ways.” You raise your nose up at him.

He comes in close, suddenly appearing much taller than you remember, "Yes. I know you do. But how do you like it."

You reach for the mug but he doesn't let go, allowing you to grip his hand. "This is just perfect." You grunt, trying to pull the mug from his grasp. It doesn’t budge.

"So you don't mind that I sweetened it?" He looks at you, blond locks flopping into his face.

You grin, "Perfect." Your shoulders roll back, recalling how much you adored when a maid would add sugar to the tea pots back home. "I adore honey."

"Oh, good." He only then tugs his hand from yours, waltzing into the kitchen.

You follow behind in a very “lost pet” sort of fashion. It's only when he pulls a jar of honey from the cabinet and begins to spoon some of the golden nectar out that you realize he has played you.

You gasp. "Auh! You lied!"

He just grins. But you continue, "I like it both ways, really.” You cover your face, “really, a-and you don't have to make this for me, you know, I can do it myself."

He finishes stirring it and holds the mug out, handle facing you. He's leaned on the kitchen counters. He must feel very accomplished now, with that smug look covering his face.

"Don't worry, I'm well aware. Can't I do even this for you?" He gives you a funny smile. "I figured you liked sweets. You seemed to enjoy dessert the other night."

"You are a strangely observant creature Mr. Nanami Kento." You huff, taking the tea outstretched to you and sip.

It's delicious.

He hums, grinning, but you don’t see, "Is that right?"

You look up again and realize he's been watching you drink.

"Yes, you are."

He just chuckles, leaning further back on the counters.

"I was asking about the tea, honey."

He just laughs, leaving the kitchen. You take a deep breath, eyes closed and try to compose yourself. Somewhat peeved because, yes, the tea really was just right.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

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[lewisvinga]

fashion help | charles leclerc x fem! reader x alexandra saint mleux !

summary; how charles, y/n, and alexandra came to be all because of y/n wanting to help a clueless charles in a mall

warnings; ?? none i think

word count; 635

all works taglist; @goldenmclaren @namgification @c-losur3 @minkyungseokie @lavisenri @ollieshifts

note; requested !

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Alex! These are cute too, no?” Y/n questioned as she ran over to a pink dress and a matching red one beside it. The couple were searching for a matching outfit for an art exhibit event which led them to the large department store in Monaco to find outfits.

“These are quite cute, amor.” Alexandra quietly says. One hand was interlocked with her girlfriends and the other ran down the fabric of the dress. “The fabric isn’t the greatest but-“

She turned to look at Y/n but she was seemingly distracted, staring at the men’s side of the department store.

“Why is he grabbing those blue pants? They’re hideous.”

Alexandra followed where Y/n was staring and saw a confused brunette looking through the racks of clothing. He held up a pair of patterned blue pants which the Art student had to admit was hideous.

“Maybe he’s shopping for a friend?”

“Then I have to help him! If someone gifted me those pants I’d be offended.”

“Y/n, no-“ Before She could finish her sentence, Y/n was already walking towards him.

Alexandra loved her girlfriend, she truly did. She just hated sometimes how extroverted she was and was willing to go up to a stranger to tell him about his poor fashion choices. She hesitantly shuffled behind. She was already preparing to apologize to her girlfriend when she suddenly heard the mystery man thank her.

“Honestly, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. My friends always say I’m bad at this.” He says with a chuckle, causing both Alexandra’s and Y/n’s hearts to skip a beat. “But thank you. I didn’t quite catch your name?”

“I’m Y/n and this is my girlfriend, Alexandra.”

“Charles, it is a pleasure to meet you both.” He smiled as he shook their hands. Any other man would’ve probably been shocked at Alexandra and Y/n’s relationship, which was common because men always hit on them, but Charles was different.

Both girls were bisexual, so they weren’t new to romantic feelings towards the opposite sex. But they had been dating for a few months and only had feelings for each other. Until the confused-looking Monegasque caught both of their attention. Even Charles felt intrigued, noticing how Alexandra stared at him or how Y/n’s touch lingered for a second too long when shaking his hand.

There was a tension that fell over the three of them and neither could quite decipher what it was. Y/n cleared her throat after a few seconds of silence had passed.

“Good thing Alex and I have good fashion taste.” She said with a smile. With one hand she holds onto Alexandra’s hand and with the other she grabs Charles. “Now, looking at you, I think these would fit well.”

Her girlfriend gave the Monegasque a look before they both laughed at Y/n’s enthusiasm about what pants style and what color looked best on him.

Hours had passed by the time the girls finished picking out a whole new wardrobe for Charles, although it felt like it was just a few minutes.

“I’ve got to thank you both. I really do appreciate the help.” Charles said with a smile, the three of them walking out of the store with bags in hand.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m a fashion major so this is kind of my thing.” Y/n said with a smile.

“She just really likes to help people.” Alexandra nudged her girlfriend’s side as she chuckled.

“Are you two busy?” Charles suddenly asked, “I’d like to treat you both to lunch as a thank you.” He wore a hopeful smile as the two girls shared a glance.

Y/n being the most straightforward one, linked one arm with Alexandra and the other with Charles. “Well, lead the way!” She exclaimed with a laugh and the rest was history.

[vmpireslut]

nsfw + fluff! in which he’s whipped ♡︎

sweetheart!reiner who despite his demanding role as a firefighter, always finds time to prepare heart-shaped pancakes for you on his days off. rising early, he meticulously mixes the batter and pours it into the pan with the same precision he applies to his work. the kitchen becomes infused with a delightful aroma as he flips each pancake, a gentle smile on his face, fully aware of the significance these small acts of affection hold for you. even amidst his numerous responsibilities, he consistently seizes the opportunity to express his love through these simple yet profoundly meaningful gestures.

sweetheart!reiner who is incredibly clingy, always craving the warmth of your skin. whether it’s his hand resting on your thigh or his head nestled against your shoulder while he casually browses recipes to cook for you, he just has to be in contact with his beautiful girl. if you try to nudge his sleeping form away, he’ll complain, insisting he’s not asleep as he wraps his strong, tattooed arms around you, pulling you back into his sturdy embrace. his touch is a constant source of comfort, a tangible expression of his love. even in the dead of night, if you attempt to move away, he instinctively tightens his hold, softly murmuring sleepily that he needs you close.

sweetheart!reiner who always has daily baby fever, it’s truly a sight to see. he can't help but rub your tummy, whispering about how eager he is to watch it swell and grow with the life you two will create together. shopping with him is a challenge, to say the least. he constantly picks up baby clothes, holding them up with a sparkle in his eyes as he imagines your future child wearing them. you can almost predict his words before he speaks: “we could start tonight.” he’ll lift the tiniest onesies, his fingers gliding over the soft fabric as he dreams of the little one who will eventually wear them.

sweetheart!reiner who doesn’t get invited out by the boys anymore to drink. it’s always the same story: a few drinks in, and reiner’s eyes glaze over with that familiar lovesick look. he’ll start with how amazing you are, describing every little thing he adores about you with a goofy grin plastered on his face. eren, connie and jean roll their eyes, knowing exactly where the conversation is heading. “my wife is sooo pretty, and she has the best pus—“ just as he’s about to launch into another explicit detail, eren’s quick to intervene, clamping a hand over reiner’s mouth to save everyone from another round of tmi.

sweetheart!reiner who loves asking about your day, always so attentive. hands palming your feet as you two sit on opposite ends of the freestanding bathtub, he’ll watch intently as you talk, his eyes never leaving your face. the warm water surrounds you both, creating a cocoon of intimacy. occasionally, he’ll press a kiss against your foot, his lips soft and tender against your skin, sending shivers up your spine. his fingers work gently, massaging away the stress of the day as he listens, genuinely interested in every detail you share. the candlelight flickers, casting a warm glow on his face, highlighting the love and adoration in his eyes.

sweetheart!reiner, who’s anything but a sweetheart as you ride his dick in the bath.

giant muscles wrap around your frame, keeping you safe as his hands wander, stroking over your sides, your hips, the tops of your thighs. his dick is big, so big it takes your breath away and leaves you reeling. you know that if it wasn't for the gentle grip of your husband, you'd be bouncing. his cock is a solid pillar that's rubbing your velvety insides, pressing against all the good spots as you're forced to take him. it's a tight squeeze. a snug fit. a perfect, sinful pleasure.

his hips lift, pushing up and in, the water making you both weightless. the sensation is almost too much and you cling to his chest, moaning out your pleasure as the pace becomes brutal. the slap of skin against skin is barely audible over the rush of water in the tub, but the feel of it is there. it's a slight sting, a delicious ache that you can't get enough of.

"you're doing so well, honey," he tells you, voice a soft purr. "takin’ me so well."

you can only moan, eyes shut as you're overcome with sensation. the stretch, the feel of his dick inside you, his hands holding you. the press of his mouth against yours as he steals your breath. he's all you can see, all you can feel, all you can think about. he’s so pretty, thick eyebrows furrowed, blonde hair clinging to his forehead. you can see every freckle and scar on his body, from the one just under his eye, to the one just below his clavicle. you're mesmerized by him.

he's not even panting, not like you are, and that makes it all the more thrilling. his voice is calm and steady as he says, "squeezing me so tight, you close already baby?” you don’t need to answer, your body giving him the answer. you're shaking, gasping, your nails biting into his skin. he just keeps smiling at you, that sweet, lazy smile of his that you love so much.

"then let's make you feel good, hm?"

and then his arms are gone from around you and his hips are moving faster, harder, driving himself deep. you're helpless to him, a rag doll as he uses your body to find his pleasure. there's no mercy as his fingers dig into your hips, holding you still as his hips snap up and down. it's a blur of sensation. it's almost painful how hard he's taking you, but there's no way you're telling him to stop. no way.

the sounds coming from you are obscene, whorish, but there's nothing you can do. you can't help but scream his name, begging him to go harder, faster. to never stop. he does as he's told. his mouth is on yours, stealing the last of your breath away. "such a good girl," he purrs against your lips. "such a good girl for me. come on, now, give me what i want."

"r-rei, oh my god!" you're helpless. powerless. at his mercy as your body gives him exactly what he's asking for. "there you go, baby. just like that," he says as he continues to pound into you. he's not done. you can't come again. you're going to die. "one more time."

"i-i can't-"

"sure you can. don't make me beg."

"i-i can't, fuck-"

his voice drops low, dangerous. "then i'll keep fucking you until you can. you'll be my cocksleeve if that's what i have to do." oh god, oh fuck, yes, please. he does. he keeps fucking you until you're seeing stars. he fucks you until you can't breathe, until your whole body is shaking and jerking with the force of his thrusts.

when he's finally done, when the aftershocks have stopped and the mess has been cleaned, the two of you end up in the bed. reiner’s casually laid between your thighs, reading a novel, humming as you wrap golden strands around your fingers. the silence is comforting, the sound of him turning pages nice. it's peaceful.

you sigh, closing your eyes. you don't even notice when he stops reading. "hey," he murmurs, voice low and rumbling. "i love you." and that's how you end up making love on the floor.

sweetheart!reiner who cried into your chest when you presented the positive pregnancy test weeks later.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ dedicated to @wintrrxxo

[hoshifighting]

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.

"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?"

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.

[sadesluvr]

Exposure

You can’t shake the feelings you have for Friedrich Harding, your father’s business partner.

It all started when Friedrich Harding had walked through the door. 

It was an autumn night, not dissimilar to the others. You were sat on the lush upholstery of your parlour, in your designated spot amongst the grand piano and ornaments that decorated the walls and floors, lost in thought as you flew a needle and thread between fabric. It was one of the moments where your house lay quiet, practically coming to a standstill since the death of your mother.  

The house had been an empty nest for a while. You were the youngest, the sole daughter of a wealthy ship merchant who’d had three sons prior. They’d all since grown; moved into estates and had families of their own, whilst you, still in your early twenties, were left at home waiting to be courted. Well, that was most of your life anyway. 

Naturally, your family had been extremely protective, and naturally that meant you were lonely. Days whilst your father worked was spent wandering the halls of your home, making idle conversation with Berta, the maid, or occasionally going for a walk amongst the shore or a local garden.

Nights were more sociable, but only so as the man would parade his colleagues into the dining room, but not before showing you off. You always earned a compliment or a kiss on the back of a hand, but it made you feel like a porcelain doll in a shop window. Enticing to look at, but not truly loved. 

Only you really knew how to love yourself. You found love in the works of Wilde and Hardy – though lately you’d turned to the dusty books at the back of the shelf, the ones where women were nothing but harlots and the men ravenous. Was it your fathers? Your mothers? Berta’s, even? Either way it didn’t matter; as nights were spent with your head in a book, curled up by a small lamp falling asleep to vivid, distant images. You weren’t like them. 

You hadn’t looked up when the door had opened, and two men had marched in, already laughing. In a sense, you’d learnt to zone out. 

“Darling, why don’t you come over and meet Herr Harding? His father used to come over for pool.” 

When he’d kissed the back of your hand, you thought you were sick. His eyes were a striking blue, with a strong, well-groomed moustache and sideburns, with his clothes tailored to match. You’d felt your heart drop to your stomach and your body suddenly run clammy. It was naive of you to think that he could've transferred some kind of illness so soon, but it was never impossible. You hadn’t a clue what went on at times. 

“The pleasure is mine. Your old man told me how stunning you were – I always knew he didn’t have it within him to lie.” 

He was whisked away with a glass of port in his hands, and that was as brief as the first interaction had gone. Until he’d been around the following night. Then the next. And thereafter. 

Friedrich wasn't like your fathers’ other business partners. He was younger, yes, but still significantly older than you. Though you made yourself scarce, you’d somehow catch his gaze from across the room or down the corridor, puffing mindlessly at the stick of smoke as his eyes subtly roved your body.

Conversations became longer, more frequent, and you found yourself making excuses for why you couldn’t stay – for every time there was a discomfort, an excitement that was overwhelming and peppered your skin with goosebumps.  

He made you sick, so much so that you’d stopped reading at night, finding your mind replaced with restlessness...the urge to be touched, satiated from your illness. You hoped it would go through eating more, prayer – anything that meant you wouldn’t have to see a doctor.

You’d heard things, horrible things.

The last time you’d seen one was when your mother died. 

One day, Friedrich, fresh off a new deal outside of his business with your father, had shown up at the door. Seeing that it was Berta’s duty to be useful, but ultimately inconspicuous, you made yourself as polite as possible, offering to show him the new artwork in the hallway by your bedroom. 

“I’m afraid you’re rather early. Father has not yet returned from work,” you sighed, teeth grazing your bottom lip as you spoke. “It’s poor practise, but I can call Berta to fix you a meal — “ 

“That won’t be necessary unless you intend in dining with me,” Friedrich nodded. “You must be hungry. It’s passed the hour.” 

“It’s unfortunate that I must turn you down. My appetite alludes me.” 

“Goodness…Are you ill?” He replied, raising a thick brow as he stepped towards you. 

“Must we talk about this here?” 

“There’s no one to witness the conversation, love,” he said, somewhat confused. “Though your secrecy worries me. Let us sit.” 

 You could hardly protest when he opened the door to your bedroom, his bright eyes scanning your features as he sought an answer.  

“I must. But I haven’t told anyone – I fear they may send me away if I were honest about the onset of my condition…” 

Friedrich paused, and with pursed lips took a deep breath. 

“I may only be your father’s business partner, but I can assure you that you have my upmost discretion, Madame,” he began, inching closer to you as he placed his hands gently on your arm, guiding you to sit on the edge of your bed. “Do speak to me.” 

The reality of your situation fell upon you as you fixated your gaze towards the ground, unable to avoid the pounding of your heart and the heavy rise and fall of your bust. You were alone with a man – one who was a protector, no doubt – alone in your room for the first time in your life, and you weren’t even married.

Essentially, a respected name made you no different to a common whore. Your mouth was putty, but you found it within you to speak. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep through the night,” you began, breath hitching in your throat. “I’ve felt faint, clammy. I can hardly focus on my embroidery.” 

Friedrich hummed. 

“When did you begin feeling this way?” 

You swallowed, wringing your fingers as you glanced up at through your lashes. 

“Months ago, when you first visited.” 

The man furrowed his brows, and shock rang throughout your body at his reaction.  

“Well, I can assure you that I haven’t brought some kind of illness. Perhaps it may have been the material of my clothes?” 

You shook your head. 

“I feel it’s something deeper, like a pull, almost. I have not felt this way for any man…I’m afraid that if I feel it for you, then I never will about future husband.” 

Something about the line caused him to perk up. 

“So, this sudden hysteria is about me?” 

Biting your lip, you fiddled with your necklace and slowly nodded, suddenly aware of how tight your corset felt. You were seemingly floating between life and death; as if you could drop dead at any moment yet still felt an overwhelming sense of anticipation – there was something in the horizon, seconds away from being tangible. 

Friedrich dropped his head, caressing your chin as the cool metal of his pinkie ring pressed against your warm skin, angling you to look at him. His hands were large, veiny and slightly calloused, but were the mark of a great man, as he was. The smell of tobacco and port lingered on his breath as he drew you close, his face atoms away from placing a kiss to your lips. 

“Do you want for me to make love to you, child? Caress your body and please you in the ways you’ve read about in your father’s books? Is that what you wish?” 

A lump bobbed in your throat. 

“Friedrich…I’m not yet a bride…” 

“If that’s something you’d like to wait for, I can make it happen, my love,” he began, words clear, yet not forceful. “But you should know that I cannot resist you. My old man raised me otherwise, but I won’t deny my desire to bed you as you are. I simply cannot wait until we are wed.” 

“You’d marry me?” 

“I’d do a lot more than that, darling.” 

It was natural for you not to protest once Friedrich laid his lips upon your own, hands dropping to your waist as you danced your fingers along his sideburns. His smoky musk consumed you, quite literally leaving you breathless as you whined against his body, desperate to rip yourself from your corset and allow him to consume you. 

His lips moved in tandem with your own, occasionally making a wet noise amongst the sound of his own laboured breaths. Pulling away, you were met with air for only a short few moments before Friedrich laid you back onto the bed, body straddling your own as he peeled off his layers; not totally nude, but enough for him to move around.  

You paid no attention to the slight ache in your back as you wriggled against the bedding, for the man’s lips were now attached to the nape of your neck, kissing and sucking your collarbone, as if he were trying to consume every inch of you. His moustache tickled your skin as his hands pawed at your dress, skilfully making their way up your undergarments.  

In another life, this moment would’ve come far more domestically, perhaps with you on your wedding night - but there was something far more devilish about being taken now, in your bedroom of your family home. You were almost certainly going to hell. 

“You’re quivering, love,” he said softly, watery blue eyes staring into your own. “You shouldn’t be scared of me.” 

You weren’t - well, not entirely – more scared about how your body was reacting; your heart and mind in overdrive as his fingertips made their way down your thighs, thumb ever so gently grazing your labia as it did.  

The bustle of your dress bothered you greatly, though Friedrich didn’t seem phased by it; intent on devouring you even through the layers of fabric, causing the material to flap about in a crude manner. In his passionate haste, the man unbuttoned his trousers and poked his manhood through his briefs before lining himself by your entrance. Breath hitched in your throat as you felt his warm, slightly sticky tip poke at your sensitive hole, knuckles brushing against your folds as he pushed into you without hesitation. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he did, earning a concerned glance from the man. 

“I’m sorry to hurt you, darling,” he breathed. “It’ll only be a minute. I want nothing more than to make you feel good, believe me.” 

With your teeth between your bottom lip you nodded, spreading your legs as wide as the dull ache in your thighs could let you as the moustached man began to buck his hips into you.

Whether it was because he was your first (and only), or the fact that his frequent likening to a horse had rung true - Friedrich had a suitable length and girth to truly fill you up, ceasing the emptiness that your ‘sickness’ had brought almost in an instant. 

“Herr...” you whispered, eyes squeezed shut. You desperately wanted to moan; to cry out even, but found yourself too worried that Berta would see your ecstasy as a cry of distress. “Herr Harding, I can’t --” 

“Hold onto me, love, and open your eyes,” he ordered, though the softness of his voice made it so it could barely be read as an order. “I want to see you.” 

You obeyed. 

A twinge of a smile formed on his lush pink lips as he kissed you again, this time desperate to bury his head between the tips of your cleavage.

His mind was blank and dumb as he rutted into you, a drabble of drool ever so obscurely dripping its way down your skin and leaving a wet patch on the neckline of your dress. Your chest looked delectable, pronounced and wobbling with every motion he made on top of you, that the thought of them rounded and swollen with the glow of pregnancy was enough to send him over the edge. 

He let out a deep groan, and with furrowed brows he angled your leg upwards to dagger into you, causing your dress to bunch around your waist.  

Clamping your hand over your mouth, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped your lips as his cock stretched you, hitting you in places you hadn’t even known existed. It might’ve been your euphoria or sheer breathlessness, but you could certainly feel it in your stomach. 

“That’s it, darling,” he cooed. “Just hold on a little longer. By God, you’re so sweet, as if you were made for me...I cannot wait to wife you, my love, you must wish for me to bear you a child...” 

A child. 

A child. 

The world went white. Your parents had always spoke to you about the presence of the afterlife, a place where a divine being would take you into his arms and cleanse you of sin...but you’d never imagined it to be so soon, underneath the man your father had often referred to as a second son. 

Humorously, you only felt grounded once a sheer liquid dripped down your leg. Whether it was blood, his seed, or a mixture of both, you knew that you were forever impure, and naturally tied to him. 

Forever.  

[mills-73]

Don’t Stop

After 30 years in another dimension, Stanford is quite inexperienced in the women department, although he does know how to pleasure you quite well.

TAGS: 18+, smut; dude is touch-starved, do you see where this is going? mild humiliation (you tease him and he gets horny), p in v, cunningligous

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

You never knew Stan had a twin brother up until recently.

You came into work, seeing double, thinking you had some serious brain damage, before Stan explained the situation to you. His name was Stanford—which confused you until that was also explained—and he’d been trapped in another dimension for thirty years. Heaven knows that alone threw you for a loop.

Dimension? Portals? Total baloney. But hey, it’s Gravity Falls, so it’s 99% likely to be true. And with one look at Ford, you believed it instantly.

He truly looked like he was out of place here, like he spent so long somewhere else that he didn’t know how to fit in anymore. He was paranoid and definitely had a loose screw or something with the way he tore apart the Mystery Shack “just in case he’s here.” You had no idea who this “he” person could be, but you didn’t question it.

Stan finally, after months of being here and begging him to let you in on the secrets of the Mystery Shack, finally spilled the beans to you. You soaked up every word with a smile on your face.

When Ford actually noticed that you were in the room with them, he stopped dead in his tracks and just kind of stared at you, a small tint of coral flowing over the bridge of his nose. You could barely see it because of his glasses, but then his cheeks puffed a little and you knew he was embarrassed about what you just witnessed him doing.

You introduced yourself to him, attempting to shake his six-fingered hand. He politely refused. You and Stan shared a look of unease but otherwise left Ford alone for the time being.

You went about your day, Stan leading a group of tourists through the museum as you sat at the counter and observed Ford looking at every object in the room. If there was anything yellow or triangle shaped he threw it away despite your protests.

He seemed a little weird, you thought. Handsome as fuck, but weird. Especially when he’d just stare at you when he thought you weren’t looking, almost as if he didn’t think you were real. You didn’t think it was creepy or anything, but almost cute, maybe. He seemed so interested in you, squinting his eyes, tilting his head, even going as far as to come up to you and poke your shoulder. You only raised an eyebrow at him when he did that and he rushed out an apology and quickly left. You didn’t see him for a few days after that.

When you did, he carried a worn, brown leather journal in his hands. He sat in the gift shop with you and wrote in it for the rest of the day, giving you the occasional glance over his glasses.

You wanted to know what his deal was with you, but you couldn’t really outright ask him. He probably just felt weird being around people he didn’t really know all that well. Although, even if that was the case, why would he actively sit in a room with them? You decided not to think too much about it or your head was going to explode.

What you were really curious about was what he was writing. Stan had told you yesterday that he wrote three journals documenting the paranormal creatures and anomalies he’s found throughout his time in Gravity Falls. It sounded interesting enough, and you wanted to ask him about everything he knew. But he had just come back from being in another dimension, so you thought it’d be best to give him some space before you bombard him with question upon question.

For the remainder of the day, he didn’t talk to you. And he wouldn’t for a few weeks. But he was always keeping an eye out.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your interest is piqued at very best when it comes to the mind of Stanford Pines. Him and that damn journal he keeps on him at all times now has you tracking his every movement when he’s around, trying your damnedest to get a peek at what he’s writing. But whenever you get close enough he snaps it shut and immediately pretends he's finished with whatever he was doing.

Now you’re even more curious.

How can you make him leave that journal behind for just a few moments so you can take a peek inside? You figure he’s not stupid enough to leave it behind if he goes somewhere, so you ask Stan to swipe it for you while he’s sleeping.

“You owe me twenty bucks, kid.”

The next day, Stan slips you the journal, holding his hand out for the money you owe him. You sigh and slap it in his hand.

“Tell no one.”

You roll your eyes and sneak off to the roof to read it. You feel a little bad about invading his privacy like this, but you have to know what he’s writing about all the damn time. It’s like a plague that can only be cured by reading the journal's contents.

You open it to the first page and your lips part in a gasp.

There���s multiple doodles of what looks like you scattered around, your name repeated over and over and then crossed out. You flip the page. It’s a journal only dedicated to you, your behavior, drawings of your face. There’s one page in particular that looks as if Ford went on a deep dive off the dark end.

Ford seems fascinated with you. You trace the ink lines of his pen with your finger, your eyes flickering over each word. He mentions at one point that he doesn’t think you’re real, going as far as to say you’re a succubus sent to make him lose his mind. Which is a little far out, but it makes you laugh. A sex demon? Really?

The other things he says about you is a little…weird to say the least.

“Could this be another one of Bill’s tricks? Is he trying to control me by using her? I need to check her eyes.”

The phrase “look at her eyes” is repeated over and over again across countless pages. More drawings here and there and comments about how he can’t stop thinking about you. He expresses he understands what’s happening to him so he’s writing all of it down, watching you for the better part of his day just to see if he can figure you out.

It’s kind of cute.

You assume that because he’s been gone for so long he doesn’t know how to approach you to actually try and talk to you. Or maybe he just likes observing from a distance.

Whatever the case, you snap the journal closed and stare off into the forest.

You have an opportunity to tease him for the stuff you’ve found, but is that too cruel? He’d blush so beautifully if you ever told him what you found out.

You think for a minute.

It’s not that cruel.

With a smirk, you climb back down the latter to the gift shop, spotting Ford turning over everything in sight. You know what he’s looking for, so you just stand there and smile.

“Looking for this?” You wave the journal around, watching his back stiffen and his eyes widen.

“H-How did you get that?”

You shrug your shoulders, flipping it open. Ford rushes for you and snatches it out of your hands, holding it close to his chest. His face is pink and his eyes look fearful.

“Very interesting topics you chose to write about. Is that your latest research?” You tease, stepping closer to him.

Ford swallows thickly. “You—You weren’t supposed to see that. How did you even—?” He blush deepens, a hand reaching to scratch at the back of his neck.

You feign innocence and smile sweetly at him. “I’m very curious to know about this succubus. I thought they were just myth?” He looks around as if he’s hoping someone will come in and save him from his embarrassment. “It’s cute you thought I was one. I’m very honored you see me like that, Ford.”

“It’s not what it looks like! I promise,” he raises his voice. “

“Then what is it like, Ford? Hm?” You reach your hand out, running your fingers down the side of his face. You delight in his shiver. “Because it seems to me that you like me.”

Ford stutters over his words, his eyes flickering to your lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You shrug. “If you say so.”

You begin to walk around him, ending the conversation, but he grabs you by the arm and stops you, whispering a soft “Wait.”

Your eyes meet and you smile. “Yes?”

“What…What didn’t think of it?”

“Of the journal?” He nods. You smile. “It was interesting.”

He’s silent, looking at your lips as his tongue darts out and wets his own. You lean in, whispering against the shell of his ear. “Do you like me, Ford?”

His gulp is audible. “I’d say I’m…I’mintrigued by you.”

“Only intrigued?” Your fingers run down his arm to his hand, your thumb running over his knuckles. His intake of breath makes you smirk. “I think you’re a bit more than that, handsome.”

After a few moments he admits "I find you stimulating."

You giggle at him. You turn you head so your lips are inches apart, loving how he eyes your mouth with ferocious need. "How stimulating?"

Without a seconds thought, he crashes his lips against yours, dropping his journal to the ground so he can grip your hips in his hands. You gasp in surprise but simmer into the kiss.

He's a little sloppy with it but you don't mind all that much, kissing him back with enough fervor that has him moaning into your mouth.

Ford pushes you up against the wall of the Shack, whimpering breathlessly as he bites at your bottom lip. Your hands come up to wrap around his neck, your fingers deftly running over the ends of his hair. He moans and begins to pepper kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

"Ford," you moan, trying to get his attention. "Ford, wait. We can't do this here."

He murmurs something under his breath before dragging you by your hands to another room of the shack. It's his bedroom.

You look at him, noting the need planted all over his face. You never really thought of him like this before, but seeing him actually want you like a crazed mad-man has your heart stuttering in your chest.

Before you know it, he’s on you again, pushing you towards the bed and climbing on top of you. His hips rut against yours as he licks into your mouth, his hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. He seems so desperate for you, and you guess spending thirty years without someone to fuck time to time would have its effects on someone. Hell, you don’t even know if you could go thirty years without sex.

The feel of his fingers on your skin sends a jolt of fire to your core, your heart rate picking up as you realize how far he wants to go with this. His erection is pressing against your thigh, so unbelievably hard that you understand his neediness.

“Your skins so soft,” he whispers against your lips, giving you one last chaste peck before sitting up, admiring you from above. “Do you want to do this with me? Because I really…” he gazes down your body. “I swear you put a spell on me or something.”

You laugh at his remark, sitting up on your elbows. “I want this.”

At your consent, he kisses you again, his hands roaming over every inch your body. You arch into his touch, sighing into his mouth when his thumbs run across your nipples.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, a little unsure. He tweaks at each bud, a shiver in running down your spine.

“Yes,” you breathe. “It’s perfect, Ford.”

He slips your shirt over your head, tossing it to the side, leaving your bra. His lips trail down your neck to the top of your breasts, your fingerings burying themselves in his hair as he kisses each one. He pulls the pads of your bra down, the cool air making your nipples pepper in response.

Ford’s mouth latches on to your right tit, his tongue lapping around. A moan drags itself from the back of your throat, sitting up slightly to unclasp the fabric from your body. His other hand comes up to give attention to your other boob, pinching and tweaking at your nipple.

He praises your breasts with his mouth before moving downwards, quickly ridding your body of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable for him.

“It’s—” he chuckles nervously. “—It’s been a while since I’ve done this, if I’m being honest.” He licks his lips and leans down between your thighs, kissing the skin tenderly. You shutter. “Let me know if I’m doing things right.”

You nod and he kisses you again, trailing up to the spot between your thighs, the stipple of his beard scratching you in ways that make you tremble.

Slowly, teasingly, he begins to lap at your folds, tasting your essence. He hums softly, seemingly lost in the sensation as the pleasure builds higher and higher. Your fingers find their way to his hair, pulling gingerly at the grey strands.

"Oh, fuck," you cry as he sucks at your clit. "You're doing so fucking good. Oh my god!"

At your praise, he seems to go harder, the vulgar sounds of your own wetness and his tongue echoing off the walls. You feel one of his fingers slip inside you, his tongue never stopping it's ministrations against you clit.

You cry out as he begins to finger you slowly. Pressure begins to form low in your gut, wrapping around the bottom of your spine. He adds another finger after a moment, scissoring them inside of you.

His other arm comes up to wrap around your hips, holding you in place as he curls his fingers, making you gasp. Your orgasm is fast approaching and you don't know if you can hold it off for too much longer.

Another nip to your clit and a particularly rough thrust inside, you shatter. Your thighs shake graciously as he helps you through your orgasm, quickly becoming almost overstimulating that you have to beg him to have mercy on you.

He smiles up at you from between your legs, his lips glistening with your slick. "Was that okay?"

Still breathless, you nod. "You did so good, handsome." His glasses are foggy and a little crooked and you reach out and fix them. "Did you want to do more?"

He groans. "Yes, please. I need more."

"Then take what you need, honey," you tease, spreading you leg further.

Ford is quick to remove his clothes, his cock hard and the tip an angry shade of red. "Don't laugh if I don't last very long," he murmurs, sliding back between your legs, dragging the tip along your folds.

You bite your lip at the feeling, bucking your hips to invite him to push inside. As he does, you gasp. He's not entirely huge, but he's thick, and he streaches you out perfectly.

He feels fucking amazing.

When he bottoms out, he falls over you, holding himself up by his arms. He shutters, his eyes closing as he looses himself inside of you. Ford pulls out, shallowing thrusting inside of you. You purr at the feeling, meeting his movements, soft moans slipping past your lips.

He picks up the speed, pulling out completely and slamming back inside of you, hitting your sweet spot just right, causing you to throw your head back in a silent scream.

Ford fucks you slow and hard, the sound of skin meeting skin and vulgar yet breathy moans filling the room. He whimpers above you, his cock twitching inside you.

"Fuck, Ford. You're fucking me so well," you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Please. Go faster."

"I-I don't think I can, darlin'," he gasps.

"Then let me ride you."

He groans at your words, slipping out of you after a few seconds. You flip the two of you over, settling on top. You guide the head of his cock inside, lowering yourself down until he fills you up perfectly.

Ford stares up at you, lips parted in awe. You start to grind down on him, moving your hips in a circular motion.

"Fuck," he whines, "you're amazing."

You start to bounce up and down, holding yourself up by your hands on his chest, your nails grazing over his skin. He flexs his hips upwards to meet your hips, not being able to hold his moans of pleasure back.

"Please," he begs. "Don't stop."

You weren't planning on it, riding him like your life depends on it. The stimulation to your clit and the tip of his cock hitting you just right has you falling over the edge not even a minute later, your legs spasming as a second orgasm washes over you.

His own moans become more strained and whiney, and you know he's close as he begins to pump inside of you, matching your rhythm.

"Cum for me, Ford," You say, breathless and desperate for him to fill you up.

He throws his head back, mouth drooped open as his hands come up to your hips. He grips them roughly, fucking up into you roughly, making you scream out in pleasure. He's whimpering and groaning and you feel him spill inside of you seconds later, fucking you through his orgasm.

Your breaths fill the air around, your body slumping onto of his.

"You were great," you mumble into his neck.

You feel him turn away, hiding his face into his shoulder. "I, uh...t-thanks."

You giggle. "Don't be getting all shy on me now."

Slowly, you roll off of him, Ford hissing at the stimulation. He pushes his foggy glasses up on his face, not daring to meet your eyes.

"Was it okay?" he mumbles. "It's been a little while and--"

"It was more than okay, Ford." You smile. "I hope we can do it more often."

He looks over at you, a blush on his cheeks. "I'd...I'd be okay with that."

You smirk, giving him a kiss. "Good."

~

ARTWORK BY @pumafysketch

ty for reading! i honestly hate this but it's wtv. i’ll probably write more but anyway

tags: @loslox @emgrth

[a-leg-without-fear]

Sweet

sin sin sin sIN SIN THIS IS SIN. please enjoy pleasuring our dear college!matt

Ship: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader

Rating: 18+ (pure filth, truly)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, foreplay, some depressive thoughts (because i apparently can't write anything without them)

Warm.

Soft, warm, gentle, sweet. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted. Like dew that’s been licked off a cold strawberry, or the fragrant scent that wafts through the air outside of flower shops. A delicate and tender sweetness. Subtle, comforting, like the smell of home after being away for years. Such sweetness could make Matt lose himself, letting himself drift away on a current of fond smiles and warm embraces. He would allow himself to drown in the sweet taste, even if it was the last drop to pass his lips before he drifted to the ocean floor.

At the sudden loss of the warmth, the tenderness, the sweetness, Matt’s throat let out a whine of annoyance. His body moved of its own accord as he scrambled to reconnect himself to the source. Fingers tangling in silken hair. Hand bunching in a tank top. Teeth nipping at a plump, pink lower lip.

“Matt,” you sighed. The words cascaded past Matt’s tongue and down his throat, carrying a breeze filled with cherry blossoms in their wake. He could distantly feel delicate fingertips brush at his jaw. A tingling warmth trailed behind the gentle touch, only fueling his need to swallow as much sweetness as he could.

“Matt, honey. Breathe.”

Matt’s eyes fell open as he pulled away from his brief reprieve. His senses came crashing down like a cave in. All he could see was a haze of swirling oranges and reds that filled every inch in sight. Streaks of flame and blood painting the college dorm room like a canvas on fire. His cotton shirt was too tight, too scratchy. The humid air settled in his pores like an unwelcome visitor. A sudden cacophony of noise spilled into his ears through the crack under the door and the thin material of the walls. He blinked a few times to reorient. 

The first inhale he allowed himself felt like a punch in the lungs. Gone was the taste of strawberries or cherry blossoms, the feeling of warmth and comfort. A sharp tang of stale alcohol plunged its way into his sinuses and left him reeling. Notes of old, worn carpet and water-damaged ceilings shoved their way through to stand side by side to overwhelm thought and feeling. Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall the smell of flowers that flowed like water down his throat.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your melodic voice brushing aside the sounds assaulting Matt’s senses. Your soft hand rested along his jaw and brought his forehead to yours. Matt could feel your breath fan across his face. Warm and gentle and sweet.

“I… I’m sorry,” Matt said. He felt naïve. The world was harsh and cold and unforgiving. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away by the allure you unintentionally provided. The sweet ambrosia that flowed from your lips could never compete with the torrential downpour of too much all around him.

“Sorry for what?” you asked. Your fingers brushed strands of Matt’s dark hair away from his face, then trailed their way down his cheek to rest on his collarbone. 

Matt opened his eyes again in a desperate attempt to see you. See anything. But all he was met with was the clouded reds and oranges that submerged the world beneath a pool of blood. 

He tried to focus on where your face would be, using the brush of air currents along your seated body to understand where you were on the bed. Your head was cocked, hair falling in front of your kind eyes. Matt could tell you were looking at him. From the way your heart calmly beat behind your ribs and the pheromones that surrounded you like an aura, Matt assumed you were happy. Content.

“I got caught up in the moment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You chuckled at his bashfulness, the sound ringing like a small bell around Matt’s head. Hopefully he could deflect from his lapse in awareness. Of course he had to be blind and easily distracted.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Just gotta remember to breathe,” you said. Matt scoffed playfully at the jab. He let his hands drift down to your waist, tucking his fingers beneath the bunched-up hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know, you seem to like it when I prevent you from breathing.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt and your face heated. A flash of the intoxicating scent that was distinctly you floated from between your legs. Matt could feel his own arousal swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. An uncontrollable tempest begging to be released over calm waters. Despite how desperately he wanted your clothes off and you beneath him, he pulled his mouth into a cocky grin while his fingers worked their way up to your bra.

“What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed? Or are you just remembering how good it felt when I choked you?” he purred.

That got you riled up. Your chest started heaving as your skin grew hot and clammy over your entire body. A fresh wave of wetness and delicious scent warmed the inside of your thighs. You swallowed heavily and Matt could practically feel the way the muscles in your throat moved.

But you hesitated. Your fingers stopped their soft stroking along his sensitive skin. Your breath halted just behind your soft lips. Matt’s brow furrowed as a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

“You okay?” he asked warily. Matt forced his hands to cease in their uphill climb and placed them on your hips. Anxiety gripped at his chest. Did he misread the situation? Misread you? Did he make you uncomfortable? God, what if you finally realized you’d made a mistake in dating him? It was bound to happen, sooner or later.

“Can I be on top tonight?” you asked, as though that sentence didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach.

“W-What?” Matt spluttered.

“These past few times you’ve been making me feel good. Really good. I want to try to return the favor,” you explained. Your nails began to pick at a stray thread on Matt’s shirt collar. Matt’s ears picked up on the uptick in your pulse. Were you… nervous?

“If you don’t want to, that's fine, you can be on top. We can also just kiss if that’s more what you’re feeling today. I don’t want to make you feel weird and-”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Matt said, interrupting your fast-paced tangent. Your mouth clamped shut as a deep breath filled your lungs. Matt grabbed loosely at your shoulders, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin, as an easy smile fell over his face.

He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath then said, “You can be on top. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting you to ask. Matt’s life was a never ending learning curve of discovering that love was not guaranteed. His mother left before he was a year old, his father died when he was nine, his mentor, Stick, abandoned him at the first sign of affection. He learned long ago to not expect anything from anyone. That was the first lesson Stick had taught him. 

And yet, against all odds, here you sat. An enigma if ever there was one. Offering your affection on a silver platter at Matt’s feet. A clear sign of trust, of devotion, of love.

“Okay,” you said. A relieved smile broke out across your face. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. Matt’s heart raced in time with yours. His fingers began kneading in the soft flesh at your hips.

“Lie down for me,” you said. Four words, spoken softly with the gentleness of a feather, yet they struck Matt in the chest like a wide haymaker. A sentence that carried the weight of authority and a gentle caress all in one. Suddenly all he wanted to do was follow instructions.

In a flash he had his head on the pillow, arms at his sides, breathing at an alarmingly fast rate. Anticipation burned its way through his veins and clouded his senses. The world outside the dorm room faded away. Like a memory retreating into a dense fog. Loud voices down the hall quieted into nothing, the humidity in the air evaporated, his shirt felt like the softest silk, and the scent around him. God, all he could smell was you. Your breath was like the first day of spring, your skin like rolling hills of green grass, your hair like soft strands of pure sunlight. Matt’s world was, yet again, sweet.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable,” you breathed, your lips suddenly brushing against his earlobe. Matt would have jumped had he not been so relaxed beneath your comforting presence. Your sense of calm had washed over him like a warm wave at low tide. 

“I will,” Matt replied, having to use what remained of his mind to form two coherent words. A soft hum of acknowledgement rustled the baby hairs by his ear. He had just enough awareness to track you as you pressed a soft kiss under his jaw. 

A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back against the pillow. You smiled against his skin, rewarding the accommodation by pressing a firmer kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear. Tendrils of goodgoodgood shocked their way through his veins from where your lips connected to the sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he let his eyes fall closed.

“Good spot, I take it,” you said through a smile Matt could hear. Matt barely got out the word “yes” before you licked a broad swipe up his neck and ended at that sensitive spot. Matt’s back arched as a groan kicked its way out of his throat. His hands fisted into your tank top out of pure instinct, practically begging the source of his pleasure to stay put. Another pass of your tongue stoked the embers in his abdomen into a bonfire, flames licking their way over his damp skin.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt begged, the words a whisper on his parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for. All he knew was he never wanted you to stop. 

Blunt fingernails traced the exposed skin beneath his shirt. Matt’s hips bucked up, chasing the light touch. The muscles beneath his skin jumped as you slowly, so slowly, started pushing his shirt up. It was agonizing, the feeling of your nails lightly scraping along his stomach. Each finger lit up thousands of nerve endings, each nerve ending pushing him further and further toward the edge of a steep cliff.

You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Matt’s ear as you whispered, “Arms up, Matt.”

You could tell him to kneel at your feet for the rest of his life and he would.

Matt did the best his melted body could to help you take his shirt off. The two of you were a mess of limbs and cotton for a moment before you were able to pull the infernal garment away. Matt’s arms fell beside him like two sacks of grain. Palms as soft as calfskin ever so gently glided down his bare chest. You made sure every divot and round muscle got the attention it deserved, caressing Matt like he was the finest lace. When your pinky brushed against his nipple, a sharp hiss escaped through his teeth.

You hummed, hands retreating in their path, fingers dancing along the edges of Matt’s nipples. Matt choked out a moan, baring his neck as his back arched into your touch. Your tongue made another pass of his throat as feather-light glances of your fingers across both of his nipples chased the last coherent thoughts from Matt’s mind.

“Fuck,” Matt groaned. Every millimeter of his skin felt like it was aflame. Fire left in the wake of your gentle touch. Burning away all sense and reason until all that was left was Matt’s writhing body.

He was close. Embarrassingly so. Matt clung to the cliff’s edge by his fingertips, each kiss and caress prying his fingers off one by one. His hips moved of their own volition. He was bucking into your thigh like a dog in heat. Whines and moans flew from his glistening lips while his hands scrabbled against the sheets.

With your hands still toying at Matt’s chest, you shifted in his lap until the warm heat between your thighs settled over where his shorts had tented. A slurred string of curses and your name spilled from between his teeth. His wild grinding now dispersed your scent in the air around him. And God, there was so much. It settled into every inch of Matt’s skin until he could taste it on his tongue, feel it coat his lungs as he breathed it in.

“Sw-eetheart,” Matt choked out. He could feel his fingers falling away from the cliff in rapid succession. The precipice below him seemed to climb up the cliffside until it was just beneath his feet, tempting him to let go and plunge into its depths.

The final nail in his coffin was when you nipped at his neck, teeth closing around where his pulse flowed strongest. The air in his lungs leapt through his throat in one big gust. His unseeing eyes rolled back in his head, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity. 

Matt’s final grip on the cliff fell away, plunging him into warmth and gentleness and sweetness that surrounded him like a strong embrace. Held him tight and wove its way through every muscle in his body. A shock of white hot pleasure rolled through him like a steam train. Starting in his groin and washing over him in wave after wave of fuckyesgoodfuckkeepgoingdon’tstop. He could barely register how loud he was over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal behind bars.

Your lips found his again and everything clicked into place. Matt lapped at your mouth like he was drinking his first glass after a month in the desert. The sweet nectar that you produced flowed down his throat and prolonged his orgasm. His hips rocked up into yours, chasing a heat that he could feel in his bones. Hands, trembling, bunched themselves in your shirt and pulled your chest flush to his.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to calm down. Every breath, every twitching muscle made his overwhelmed senses go haywire. In his mind, the world around him was a swirling cloud of bliss. All he could hear was your breathing, all he could feel was your heartbeat against his chest, all he could taste was strawberries and cherry blossoms. He let his fingertips trail along your exposed shoulders, zeroing in on the feeling, bringing himself back to reality.

When you felt the movement, you lifted your head to look at him, “Back with us?”

A tired smile spread itself over his lips. Matt opened his eyes, the effort to lift his eyelids like lifting a dumbbell, and let his empty gaze land somewhere on your face.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. You responded by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Matt grumbled, brow furrowing, then guided your chin back up to kiss him again. You chuckled against his lips, a whisper of “ridiculous man” absorbed between your mouths. Matt relished in the familiar sweetness before letting you pull away.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” you asked. Matt gave you a solemn nod, at which you laughed. He shifted beneath you so he could attempt to meet your eyes.

“Did you like it?” he asked tentatively. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he waited for your answer. He hadn’t done anything for you, he just laid there and made you do all the work. What kind of boyfriend was he? Not to mention you didn’t even touch him. A few grazes of your fingers over his chest and he was done for.

“I loved it. It was fun to figure out what buttons to push,” you laughed. The tinkling tune of your laugh erased any negative thoughts Matt retained about the experience. He let his smile return, holding you tighter to his chest.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” Matt said, letting that seductive edge find its way back into his voice. You shuddered on top of him. Your thighs clenched instinctively around his. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, attempting to mask the want clearly written on your skin.

“3 minutes, then we’re back in business.”

“Deal.”

HUGE thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team for being the inspiration for this fic. i have them to blame for the filth that fills my head on an hourly basis.

Murdock Tuna Team 🐟: @vigilxnte-shit @pastafossa @yarrystyleeza @ecxlipse @sunflowersandsapphires @amphitrite-5 @fuckyeahpommelstrike @mar-thewriter @zomtart @what-i-call-men

[luveline]

a hotch x bombshell!reader, where it's cold and reader's adamant that the only solution is to hug and cling onto hotch like a leech lol? <3

With Gideon nowhere to be seen, Morgan face down in his phone, and Spencer and Elle off doing who knows what, you and Hotch are alone in your venture for lunch. It's exactly how you like it. 

You shrug into your coats and escape the precinct. A short walk lands you in the middle of a crowded town centre, farmers market stalls shielded from the rain by their thatched roofs, families zipping in and out of stores to hide from the rain. You pull the expandable umbrella from your bag. 

“Do you want to hold it?” you ask. 

Hotch rolls his eyes. 

“What? If I hold it, I'll stab your eyes out. It would be a shame, Hotch, they're a beautiful shape.” 

Hotch takes the umbrella gently, his fingers brushing yours. They're warm where yours are cold, a little bigger with calluses on the skin beneath his first and second finger. You'd love to squeeze your fingers between his, steal his warmth, tether him to you for a while before work starts again and everything's tense. 

The wind whips hard. Hotch doesn't seem affected, holding the umbrella over your heads like the wind is breezing straight through him. 

You shiver. “How far is the place?” 

“You cold?” 

“Like, ten minutes? Fifteen?” 

Hotch laughs to himself. “Five. Button your coat.” 

“My outfit,” you grumble, buttoning your coat reluctantly.

Hotch walks closer to you after that, the arm that's holding the umbrella behind your shoulder a slip of warmth. He's very, very warm, and he keeps the umbrella over your head diligently. An idea begins to take shape.

“Hotch, would you say you're a gentleman?” 

“That… depends on what you're about to ask me.” 

You look up into his face. He's certainly handsome, and he always holds the door for you, always brings you a coffee even though you tease him about being in love with you. His frown is curiously missing as he slows his pace, the two of you walking a meander through the street. “What level of unprofessionalism is acceptable between us?” 

“Again…” 

To his credit, he smiles at you. Doesn't waver as you slip your hand through his arm. “Is this okay? Please?” you ask. 

“It's okay,” he says steadily. 

“So you're obsessed with me. Got it.” 

He doesn't laugh, but you'd like to think he wants to, he's too maddeningly serious is all. You check his face a few times to make sure it truly is okay, leaning into his side once you're certain. 

“Not far,” he assures you. “Next time, we'll drive.” 

“I have never been so cold in my life.” 

“No? What about Alaska?” 

“No, because Morgan is a better man than you are. He kept me stocked in hot chocolate and he bought me that hoodie with the moose on the front.” 

Hotch transfers the umbrella from one hand into the other to wrap an arm around your shoulders. You squash a cheesy smile down and replace it with a smirk in case he looks at you, ever-pleased as he pulls you in as tightly as he can without tripping over you. “I offered to get you a sweater,” he murmurs, sounding about as irritated as he can be with you, which isn't a lot, “I offered you my coat. You wouldn't say yes.” 

“A real gentleman wouldn't have to ask.” 

He sighs and rubs your upper arm. “Of course.” 

You cling to him for the rest of the walk, and for some time in the sandwich shop too. He doesn't try to remove you nor tell you off, doesn't argue his case. He doesn't so much as mention how he ordered your lunch exactly as you like it —with all your alterations and add-ons— though you know you didn't ask him to. 

A gentleman after all. The urge to loop your hands together on the walk back is extreme, but you deny yourself the pleasure once again. 

Maybe some day. 

[awearywritersworld]

i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you

sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist

"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.

"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."

"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."

you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"

"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."

your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."

"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.

"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."

with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.

you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.

as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.

your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).

he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"

"nothing," you huff.

"don't be a brat."

you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."

"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."

he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.

when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.

"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."

"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"

you scoff. "well you've got me there."

a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."

you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.

wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."

you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."

he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.

"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."

"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."

"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."

"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."

"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."

"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."

you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.

as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.

you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.

the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.

"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.

after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.

"let's sit here for a little while."

he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.

as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.

sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.

"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.

"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.

his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.

when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.

"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.

your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.

truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.

no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.

the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.

so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"

his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"

some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.

"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.

he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.

"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."

and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.

"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."

ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.

"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."

the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."

you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."

then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.

you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.

when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.

you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"

as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."

"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"

"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.

"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."

"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."

before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"

he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."

"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.

gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"

"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."

"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."

gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"

yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.

his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.

having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.

leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"

"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"

"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."

gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.

he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"

yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."

"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."

a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"

megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"

when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.

"ta ta, hooligans!"

you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.

looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.

he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.

"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."

"i'd rather you didn't."

you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."

he hums. "how much did you drink?"

"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."

he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."

"tha's correct, yes."

unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."

you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.

pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.

"tuck me in?" you request.

sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.

he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.

instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."

his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.

but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."

"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."

your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.

love?

what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.

suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:

"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."

rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?

were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?

is that what love is?

could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?

does the definition of love lie in those questions?

sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.

he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.

he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.

so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?

gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.

the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged

[myfictionaldreams]

~ Mafia!Stucky Mastlist⍟✪ 📚~

Hello lovely, I hope you’re having a great day. I thought it was about time I made a list dedicated to my favourite boys, so welcome to my Mafia!Stucky masterlit!I love to write in my spare time, and the fiction I create is for 18+ readers ONLY. Also, everything is character x fem!reader, and please, read the tags carefully before continuing.

Masterlists ♥ A03 ♥ Tags  ♥ Question? ♥ latest works ♥

you're mine (smut, angst, dark)

Steve loves showing off what’s his, you. What does eh do when he sees someone staring at what is his?

i need more (fluff, smut)

You’d been off all day and it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Steve. He’d do anything to make you feel better so when you started begging him to help you have some release, he didn’t hold back.

ruined orgasm - kinktober (smut)

He had given you one rule: do not interrupt the meeting. So, of course you had to walk straight into the meeting that had all of America’s most noterious gangsters

steve's birthday wish (P.1) (fluff, smut, angst)

It was approaching Steve’s birthday and you had no idea what to get him. Bucky suggests just asking the Mafia boss what he would like, but would you regret your decision when you hear what Steve truly wants.

When Two Become Three (P.2) (fluff, smut)

It has been a few weeks since Steve sat back and watched your be pleasured by his best friend Bucky, and you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Especially, the part where Steve confessed his fantasy to have a threesome, but would you ever agree to it?

one more meeting (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

For all of the years that you had known Steve and Bucky, you had never seen them lose control of their anger. All of the murder and violence always being calculated, calm, and dangerous. But today, that all changed and for the first time in years, you were truly scared of the boys you loved.

repeat after me(fluff, smut, angst)

It wasn’t often that you had to attend a party with your boyfriends but today, you found yourself at one, filling you with anxiety and dread. How will the boys react when they find you close to a panic attack and starting to doubt their love for you?

how many?(fluff, smut)

Steve had finally found time to take you and Bucky on holiday. What he doesn’t tell you however is that today, he wanted to see just how many times he and Bucky could get you to orgasm.

i can’t lose you (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Being the girlfriend of the Mafia leader and his second in command had its dangers but for years, you'd never had to experience this. Until now. How will the boys react when you're put in danger?

no touching (fluff, smut, angst)

You blatantly ignored their instructions and now you had to suffer the repercussions for your actions.

i don’t care (fluff, smut)  

'The reader having a menstrual cycle, this one just a little worse than others, and Steve and Bucky worrying and helping her through it.'

the one weakness (fluff, smut, angst) 

It wasn't often you were by yourself so when you quickly go to the coffee shop, what happens when the enemy is watching and waiting nearby.

overwhelming (fluff)

It had been your birthday a few days ago and both Steve and Bucky had made it their mission to give you the most lavish party followed by intense, long nighttime activities. However as you lay in bed on Monday morning, something just didn't feel quite right.

the fun game  (fluff, smut)

Steve and Bucky had forgotten about your date, leaving you waiting for two hours in the restaurant. How will they react when you decide to play your own little game as payback and, how far can you go before they finally snap?

harder, please  (fluff, smut, angst)

Your mind was clouded with lust and pleasure, as you begged repeatedly for more from Bucky but, what happens when you get hurt in the process?

protect and forget  (fluff, smut, angst) 

Life as the girlfriend of the Mafia boss and his second-in-command was not always smooth sailing, everything did not always go to plan. Two weeks before your birthday, a threat was made to your life. What happens when Steve and Bucky begin to push you away as they search for the threat?

All Eyes On You  (smut)  

“Do you know what we would have done if we had turned up to that restaurant and seen you all dolled up like that? We would have bent you over the table in front of everyone and shown them exactly who you belonged to". - Steve Rogers

you belong to me  (fluff, smut, angst)

These girls knew you were dating Steve and Bucky, so why is it that they thought it was ok to have their hands all over them?

dont fall asleep  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was supposed to be a normal day, but not in fate's eyes as you and Sam are hit by a drunk driver. How will Steve and Bucky react when they hear their girls been hurt?

rule number one.  (fluff, smut, angst)

It was Bucky's birthday but even a surprise party won't stop Steve and Bucky from punishing you for not looking after yourself.

Last Hope (CH. 1) (CH. 2)  (fluff, smut, angst, dark)

Before dating Steve and Bucky, your life felt like a steel cage that you couldn't escape from because of your family business. There was no happiness or hope but, what happens when the infamously heartless mafia leader, Steve Rogers, finds you alone?

our little bean  (fluff, angst)    

You stared unblinking at the Doctor who had just told you the news you couldn't quite comprehend. You were on birth control, so why is the test in his hands saying that you're pregnant?  Accidents happened but is this a happy one? (Yes it is).

the limit  (fluff, smut, angst)

Everyone has a limit, this includes Steve and Bucky. What happens in different situations where each of you felt compelled to use your safewords?

sick day (fluff)

Bucky had warned you that dancing in that rain without a coat would lead you to be ill, maybe you should have listened more to his warning.

accident’s happen (fluff, smut, angst) 

You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

everyone is breakable  (fluff, smut, angst)

Steve and Bucky were invincible in your eyes. They'd never been injured or in a situation where you thought they weren't the ones in control. That is until one day Bucky doesn't return from meeting with a client.

winter soup  (fluff, smut, angst)

There was no better feeling than a bowl of hot soup when you're feeling unwell and, what's even better is when it's delivered to your door every day by your new guard. It tasted amazing and you could always trust everyone in the Mafia... right?

something new   (smut)

The mafia leader was known to be possessive and enjoy showing off his girl but what happens when he wants to do this by being intimate in front of his gang?

pegging - kinktober  (smut)

Steve had once instructed bucky how to pleasure you but what happens when you’re the one being given the instructions?

cockwarming - kinktober (smut)

You’re feeling needy and restless so Steve offers you something to suck on, much to Bucky’s amusement.

double penetration in one hole - kinktober  (smut)

You were adament to prove Steve wrong and do something you’ve never done before.

fear play - kinktober (smut, dark)

You woke up to darkness, your phone was missing and, all you could was silence echoing around the house but, you knew you weren’t alone.

role reversal - kinktober  (smut)

For once, you were the one shouting at the enemy, demanding that they leave your office. Steve and Bucky were in awe so you tried to keep up this confidence and burn off some energy with them.

Duke, Duchess and Knights  (fluff, angst)

You get so lost in the fantasy dream that when it turns into a nightmare, you're not sure what reality is when you wake up screaming.

Merry Christmas (fluff, smut)

It was a simple question: Have you been naughty or nice this year?

Safety Measures (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

It was the anniversary of Steve and Bucky saving you from your sadistic brother. Usually, it was a time of celebration for you, but this year, you couldn't help but feel paranoid and unsafe.

edge of glory (Angst, Smut, Fluff)

Defiance is something you are not accustomed to, but when the love of your life is in danger, there is no stopping you. Now, the repercussions of your actions have you contemplating the decisions that you've made.

seven (Angst!, Smut, Fluff)

One week is all it takes for your world to come crashing down. Even though you could have everything you'd ever wanted, for some reason, something isn't right. Will your emotions and the smothering of overprotective Stucky come to an end?

Drabbles

The first to give their jacket when reader is cold

Mad & Sad moments

Saying the wrong thing

TikTok trend: no kissing

Who is more protective?

safe space in your new home

Halloween Costumes

[grnherbs]

the sweetest goodbye.

mdni, eighteen plus only.

there's content in this fic which may be upsetting to some so content warnings are as followed; darkfic, stalking, obsession, non-con, voyeurism, dead dove; do not eat, drugging, cumplay, unconcious reader, non-con photos, creepiness, ooc leon kennedy

slick cum drips over the edge of his plush, yet somehow course knuckles, years of heavy work evident upon them. he watches you through the high apexed window and fucks into his aforementioned hand. the carnal grunt that leaves his lips as he watches your own pointer slip between the soft lips of your soaked and probably sweet pussy is near feral and he scoffs, the tear in his eyes one of pure disgust and shame for himself; but he’s fucked if he even imagines for one second he could stop. 

and for a second time, a whimper escapes his lips and he presses his ear against the wooden front door, if he turns his head to the left, ear flushed against it, he can vaguely hear your own whimpers reverberating through the oak, but barely, it’s not enough and he edges himself post orgasm. the mutual masturbation between the thick walls and double glazed windows is too much and simultaneously not enough for him. 

his cock throbs in his hand, almost like if he doesn’t fuck you, he’ll burn up indefinitely. it was sorely pathetic to come back night after night, hopping on various transports to spend a few hours of pleasure with you. but, you were so predictable, he had your schedule drilled into his head by now.

the eight am work calls, midday shopping, friends and then home to fuck your own cunt day after day. it was kind of cute and the predictability had led to him roaming your rooms when you weren’t around, the thrill of perhaps being caught as he cum’s into a pair of your used panties or when he ground his dick down into the very pillow he’d watched you orgasm on many, many nights.

the hair on the back of leons neck stands on edge as he looks down at his weeping cock once again this evening… “talk about predictable,” he mumbles to himself before fear of missing the show overcomes him and he whips his head back up in time to watch your eyes roll back into your head, a choked chuckle coming from his lips, mentally berating himself for forgetting to film you once again.

he’s been watching you for months now, a shameful amount of time had passed since you locked eyes at the grocery store you worked at, some organic non chain, where a brown apron cinched itself around your waist, ass perked up below it in some god willed sweatpants that seemed to hug you in all the desirable places. 

leon hadn’t meant to follow you home of course but the smell of your fresh flowery perfume had him wafting through the air like a cartoon character to a pie. he’d climbed the fire escape for the first time that night and was delightfully greeted with a similar sight to the private show he was receiving this evening.

he hadn’t meant to watch.. to perv, for want of a better word. but fuck, the cherry pie between your legs was truly hypnotising, like a snake being charmed by music or a mere man being bought in by some supernatural factor. the delicate parts of you were all he had wanted and more. he remembered the way you laughed and brushed his hand whilst helping him to pack the brown paper bags and it was another reminder of how rough his hands really were, whilst yours skimmed past like butter.

how he’d embarrassed himself when he read your name tag aloud and watched you stare at him puzzled for it before realisation passed through your silky eyes. and then, he’d come back the second night after painting your window with his cum, and you’d failed to notice that even now, the stain is still there. blushing, heating up his cheeks slightly, getting flashes of how insane this really was. how crazy it had been to follow you home and continue night after night to drip cum on your fire escape patio.

he pulls the used panties out of his back pocket again and held them up to his nose, eyes closed as he inhales, hips jutting out pre-emptively in excitement, but he pulls his pants back up as he watches you settle into bed, sleep shorts discarded for a lace thong and some oversized t shirt he hasn’t seen yet.

and now. he waits. one thing he knows for sure is how much of a heavy sleeper you were and the brush of the tips of your favourite cups with some medicine was enough to kick start yawns and desperation for rest. leon’s thoughts are calculated, this has all been planned and tonight, he plans to fuck you for the first time. he smiles, our first time. and he thinks it a shame you won’t be able to remember it but he’ll make it up to you.

climbing through the latched window; (he really has to teach you to be more careful) excitement laces his bones. his hands shake as he peels the cover away from your bare shoulders, dropping to his knees and burying his nose in your neck, he’s waited so long to touch you, actually feel you properly. his hand finds the hem of your shirt, pressing a hand on your belly beneath it, heart beating feverishly and he flicks his eyes up to your face once more before fully planting it, feeling his cock weep at being this near to you.

his free hand moves down to palm himself gently and he continues to nuzzle into your nape and take in all your undernotes. the hand resting on your belly slithers down towards the top of your lace panties, a shy finger making its way under the band, resting atop the groomed hair which lays there, his eyes roll back at the softness there, how were you so soft everywhere?

he pulls your panties down more, finger finding your still wet clit, after remnants of your playtime. he fully removes your underwear now, balling them up by your ankles and leaving them there, trying desperately not to cum right in his pants there and then. 

leon knows his time is running out but he’s trying his hardest to savour every moment possible. and against his own shallow will he’s pulling his pants and boxers down, turning you over and shoving his cock into your tight cunt, biting his lip so hard it bleeds, legs faltering slightly at how tight and delectable you truly felt, choking on a moan once more. fuck this, he thinks to himself and ruts his hips back and forth, the way your cunt holds him has him seeing stars. 

“ah fuck, shit, take that, take it baby, you’re so fucking sexy” he moans into your neck, losing any restraint or semblance of restraint he ever had, completely lost in the ecstasy of fucking his girl. even if you had no idea you were his girl. he had to admit he was reaching his edge much quicker than he would have liked to but, he had years of you to come and he pulls out before he reaches his high, splattering his thick cum over your back and shoulders, pornographic moan leaving his chapped lips.

he pulls away, pulling his pants up quickly and admiring his damage properly this time, before shifting his phone out his pocket, leaning down to kiss your covered cheek. “smile honey,” he teases your unconscious body, smirking and snapping a photo before he slinks back out of your room, softly closing the door and starting his commute back home. “see you tomorrow.” he says to the wind.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hi Winter~

I hope you're having a great day✨

Today is my birthday! Could I request something with modern boyfie Sukuna?

I love youuuuuuuuuuu🥺✨

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, BABE 💗 Have an amazing day!! I wish you all the love and happiness! Here is a little drabble ;)

SPENDING YOUR BDAY WITH BOYFIE SUKUNA

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + mentions of smut. 18+. Minors don't interact.

Modern boyfie!Sukuna wakes you up with bday sex. And he makes sure to love his bday girl thoroughly, not stopping until you squeal his name and scratch his broad, tattooed back while he groans "Happy birthday, princess," against your neck.

He insists on carrying you princess-style to the bathroom afterward, cradling you in his strong arms and kissing your forehead. And when you jokingly ask him if carrying you around is part of his bday special, Sukuna grins that sexy boyish smirk at you and is like,

"Of course, I'm carrying you. My girl doesn't have to lift a single finger on her special day! What kind of loser would I be if I didn't take the best care of you?"

And you laugh and cup his tattooed cheeks and kiss him. Though, you know that Sukuna takes such good care of you all the time, not just on your birthday. You smile while soaking in the bathtub in your favorite bubble bath, your skin still tingling from Sukuna's kisses and touches while he is in the kitchen preparing your bday breakfast.

And then you are finally dressed and make it to the kitchen, your boyfriend's beautiful maroon eyes sparkle at you full of pride and love as he presents to you the birthday cake he made for you.

Sukuna spent three days working on it, baking all of it himself, and making all the decorations himself, too. It's truly a masterpiece, and you grin happily, imagining how much your dear boyfie must have cursed during the process anytime something didn't work the way he wanted. But it turned out perfectly. And he did all that for you. Because you are his love.

You hug Sukuna tightly, thanking him and unable to stop smiling as he turns you around so you can try the first piece of your cake while Sukuna stands behind you, his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you, his tall body pressing lightly against your back. His large hands sprawl over your hips, and you can feel his smile against your neck when he kisses you there.

"I love you, princess. Happy birthday."

He lets you feed him cake later on, making you laugh when Sukuna rolls his eyes in pleasure and praises his own baking skills, though you agree with him because the cake really tastes heavenly.

But the cake isn't all Sukuna has planned. This day is only for you and him, and he takes you shopping later on and gives you the rest of your presents, beautiful flowers, and a necklace he saw you ogling once when you were window-shopping.

Sukuna's large, tattooed hand holds yours the whole time you stroll through the streets and the shopping malls. And you can't help but lean against him, smiling happily when you smell his sexy cologne and feel his buff biceps flex against your cheek.

In the evening, Sukuna leads you to your favorite restaurant, where he booked a table decorated with rose petals and candles. It's the most romantic dinner you've ever had, with Sukuna looking so sexy in the suit he is wearing for the special occasion and smiling that dazzling smile that is only reserved for you. He truly made you feel like a birthday girl today 💗

AWWW spending your bday with boyfie Sukuna sounds so sweet to me. I hope you enjoyed it!! Have a wonderful day 💗💗

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be sweet.

[lilasamaaa]

Amor | Carlos Sainz x Reader

Genre | Smut, Fluff.

Word count | 3.8K

Warnings | Sexual content, alcohol consumption.

Summary | Carlos is about to enjoy a few days of rest in Lisbon between races when he crosses paths with a young woman with whom he will share a night. And, if fate allows it, perhaps a little more...

Author's note | Thanks for the lovely request @thefuckwasmyname ! Hope you like it!

In life, there are many things that Carlos Sainz enjoys. His job, obviously. Or his family, of which he's very proud to be extremely close. But sometimes, there's something he loves even more than all of that : escaping both of these things. And that's exactly what he had planned to do for the next five days, wandering the streets of the Portuguese capital.

His phone has been off since this morning, when he stepped onto the plane taking him from Madrid to Lisbon. Everyone had been informed, and his words were very clear. Unreachable. Don't text, don't call, he had told his family the day before departure. I need to take some time for myself. To recharge. I won't answer.

Carlos loves Lisbon. As he steps onto the geometric patterns of the Praça do Rossio, memories of childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood flood his mind. Memories of his father playfully chasing after him, of sharing ice creams with his sisters, of days at the beach searching for the most beautiful seashell to give to his mother. Yes, Lisbon is truly a place that is precious to him. A place he doesn't want to share. A place he wants to keep for himself.

His stays in Lisbon always start the same way, and he's set on respecting the tradition. Running a hand through his hair and adjusting his cap and sunglasses on his head, the Spaniard heads straight to Gelados Santini. The blazing sun of this early May afternoon isn't in his favor. It seems like all of Lisbon has crowded into the small shop, determined to combat the sweltering heat with a sweet treat. Engrossed in his phone, the twenty-minute wait passes without incident, and soon he's next in line. Right after the woman in front of him, who is now heading towards the counter.

"Bom dia," he hears a very lovely voice say. He's not surprised to hear something other than English. A lot of locals love the place. "Eu gostaria de..."

The woman pauses, seemingly searching for her words. There are quite a few choices, Carlos thinks. Her hesitation is understandable.

"Eu gostaria de um sorvete de limão em amor, por favor."

Oh, he thinks. This woman is definitely not Portuguese.

"Amor?" the young man behind the counter asks, eyeing up suspiciously.

"Sim, amor e limão. Em um potinho pequeno em vez de um cone, por favor."

The man scrutinizes the woman in front of him as if horns had just sprouted from her head. Even though Carlos had planned to remain rather discreet, the young woman's confusion prompts him to intervene.

"Ela quer de amora. Limão e amora," he says to the man behind the counter, stepping forward.

"Ah, amora," the vendor repeats, grabbing the ice cream scoop.

"Oh my god," the woman says in perfect English, turning to face him. "What did I ask for?"

"A lemon and love ice cream. Quite original," he responds, suppressing a laugh. The young woman blushes deeply, covering her mouth.

"This is the last time I try to speak Portuguese."

"You were doing great," Carlos says, still laughing. "The accent was perfect, at least. Could have fooled me."

The man behind the counter hands her the ice cream, and she gives him a bill in exchange for some coins. She thanks him and gives a little wave to Carlos, thanking him too, before leaving the shop. The Spaniard places his order in perfect Portuguese, and a few seconds later, he too is once again facing the boiling sun, ice cream in hand. The young woman is still there, leaning against the shop window, trying to enjoy the shade of the small awning at the storefront.

"Thanks again," she says, licking the side of cup where a drop threatens to escape.

"My pleasure," he responds, sitting down next to her in the shade. "But perhaps I shouldn't have intervened? If it's really love you wanted to order from that innocent man."

She laughs, with a radiant, luminous laughter.

"No, you did well to come to my rescue. I thought the poor guy was going to have a heart attack."

"If you had insisted, I'm not sure he would have refused the proposition of such a pretty girl," he responds with a smirk, his eyes fixed on his cone.

"You, Portuguese men," she says, smirking at him. "You've certainly earned your reputation as charmers."

"Well, that might be true, but I wouldn't know. I'm Spanish," he replies with a grin.

"Oops! Sorry," she replies. "It's not very far, after all," she adds.

"Yes, we're neighbors. That's why I come here so often," he explains.

"Oh!" she exclaims, her eyes suddenly sparkling with excitement. "So, you know the city well, then?"

"Like the back of my hand," Carlos replies, gazing into her eyes.

"Okay," she starts. "I've been here for four days. I'm leaving tomorrow. I feel like I've already done all the important stuff : Praça do Comércio, the cathedral, the castle, the convent," she begins to list, counting on her fingers. "Belém Tower, of course. Absolutely magnificent. Alfama, too... But I'm afraid I might have missed something. Is there anything else that's a must-see?"

Carlos takes a moment to think, bringing the ice cream to his lips.

"Well," he says after a few seconds. "Have you crossed the 25th of April Bridge?"

"The one that looks like the Golden Gate?" she asks as Carlos nods. "No, I've only seen it from afar. I didn't dare to walk across it," she admits.

"Yeah, it's better to avoid walking across it," the Spaniard agrees. "But if you want, I have a scooter. If you feel like crossing the bridge. No pressure, of course," he says, focusing back on his ice cream.

"You'd do that?" she asks, her eyes widening. "Oh, that would be so amazing. I mean, if you don't have anything else to do, of course."

Twenty minutes later, done with their ice creams and feeling a bit refreshed, Carlos starts his scooter in a small Portuguese alleyway, while the young woman, seated behind him, fastens her helmet.

"Hold tight," he says, starting the engine and venturing into the cobbled streets, making her yelp before grabbing onto his waist.

The journey to the bridge takes about fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes during which Carlos explains to her what's around them, from cathedrals to varieties of trees to famous murals. The rushing air and their helmets make conversation a bit difficult, so she leans into him, chin resting on his shoulder to hear better. When finally the bridge stands before them, she can't help but let out a "wow" of surprise and admiration. "It's so beautiful!" she shouts for Carlos to hear, and she feels the Spaniard laughing, his back trembling against her chest. In the distance, the statue of Christ stands with outstretched arms, as if waiting for them.

"Just like in Rio!" she says.

"You've been to Brazil?" Carlos asks, eyeing her up in one of the rearview mirror.

"Yeah," she says. "Have you?"

"Yes," Carlos replies. "For work."

The driver accelerates to overtake a car, and the wind cuts off their conversation. Behind him, her arms tighten around his waist, and he finds himself enjoying the sensation. A few minutes later, they've finally crossed the bridge, and they take the opportunity to stop at the statue and explore the surroundings. Lost in the streets of Almada, the two strangers get to know each other, exchanging life and travel anecdotes. The chemistry is so good that neither of them realizes how much time has passed until the sun sets on the horizon, in front of the terrace they're seated at.

"Wow, I can't believe it's already almost 8 p.m.," she suddenly says, looking at her phone.

"Did you have plans after this? Sorry, I've stolen you for quite some time," he asks apologetically.

"No, nothing planned. And I've quite liked being stolen, to be honest," she replies, looking at him over her spritz. "Thank you for being such a great guide."

Carlos looks lost in his thoughts for a moment, silent.

"Would..." he starts, hesitant. "Would it be weird if I invited you to dinner? My cousin lent me his apartment, there's a beautiful view of the city. I bought some groceries when I arrived this morning, I have wine, and..."

He's interrupted by a hand placed on his, and when he looks up, his eyes meet those, dark, of the young woman. He's never been extremely confident, but he's never felt as exposed as he does under her piercing gaze. It's... unsettling. Kinda sexy, too.

"I'd be really happy to. If you're not already tired of my company," she replies, laughing.

An hour later, she's sitting on the terrace of the Spaniard's cousin, overlooking the Tagus Bay, a glass of white wine in hand. The sun has set, but the air is still warm. Below, the noise of restaurant terraces adds to the evening's liveliness. Behind her, in the kitchen, the driver is busy slicing vegetables, cutting meat, draining pasta.

"Are you sure you don't need a hand, Carlos?" she asks, turning around. It's been a while since they exchanged names, back at the bar in Almada. She also learned that he was a driver. He didn't really say much more, so she interpreted... like a taxi, or something. They talked about her job, as a lecturer at the University of Oxford in England. Foreign civilizations, she'd explained with a smile, beaming with pride.

"No, I want you to enjoy the evening. I invited you to dinner after all, not to cook," he replies with a smile. She smiles in return, turning her attention back to the water. She could stay here forever. But already, her departure is approaching. The notification on her phone informing her that her flight takes off in a few hours is proof of that. A surprisingly disappointing proof. Almost painful. Painful? Ridiculous, she thinks, shaking her head to dispel the absurd idea.

"It's ready," the Spaniard announces suddenly, placing two steaming plates on the small table where she's seated.

"It smells incredibly good," she replies, closing her eyes and flaring her nostrils. "Do you cook a lot?"

"Not as much as I'd like," the man responds. "I'm often on the road for work. It's not easy to find the time and motivation to get into the kitchen."

"Yeah, I bet," she replies, raising her glass in his direction to toast. Their two glasses clink gently, and each takes a sip, settling into a comfortable silence.

"I'd like to cook more too, but when you get home at 9 p.m. from a day of long and tiring lectures... Food delivery works just fine," she confides, laughing.

The conversation goes on, each opening up to one another, asking questions, answering some. Neither of them says it, but each is surprised by how easily they open up, reveal themselves. It's almost unsettling, he thinks. To know someone for just a few hours and feel so comfortable. Truly unsettling, she thinks. Having dinner with a stranger and wanting to tell them your entire life story. The dinner continues, as does the wine, and slowly, the conversation drifts. Without either of them really noticing. Or caring enough to stop.

"What's a girl like you doing here all alone?" the Spaniard asks after a moment.

"Right back at you," she says. "What's a guy like you doing here alone?"

"What's a guy like me?" he asks, a playful smile on his lips.

"Come on now, you're just fishing for compliments. I don't care, I'll bite," she replies, smirking. "A charming guy. Very charming. Well-dressed, multilingual, good conversationalist, and who cooks amazingly well. A guy who knows how to please a woman," she adds.

"I do know how to please a woman," he says, tone low. "Thanks for noticing."

Realizing the innuendo, she blushes, drinking from her glass.

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"I know," he replies, smiling. "But thanks for the compliments. To answer your question, I often come to Lisbon when I need to be alone. To gather my thoughts," he responds.

"And yet, we've spent the day together. That's not what I call being alone. Did I ruin your plans then?" she says, eyeing him intensely.

"You haven't ruined anything. If anything, you've improved them."

"There he is," she replies, laughing. "The Portuguese man in you. The charmer!" she says, throwing the bottle cap in his direction. He catches it effortlessly in the air, laughing out loud.

"What about you, then? You haven't answered the question," Carlos says, serious again. "What's a splendid, refined, elegant woman of knowledge like you doing alone in Lisbon?"

The conversation pauses for a moment as she looks away from his eyes, gazing into the river in the distance.

"I don't know why I'm doing this," she begins, "but I'm going to tell you something I haven't told anyone yet. Not my family, not even my closest friends. In fact, I've only just admitted it to myself, but... I'm searching for meaning."

"Meaning?" he repeats, arching a brow.

"I love my job, I've worked hard to get here. Living in Oxford isn't so bad, if you forget about the rain. I'm well surrounded, I have friends, I get along great with my loved ones. But..." she continues, hesitantly. "I've been feeling lately like my life doesn't have any meaning. Like I'm moving forward without direction. Like something is missing."

"And what could this something be?" Carlos replies softly.

"I don't know. I'm here to find out," she says, meeting his eyes.

It must be the wine. Or the adrenaline from the day... But probably more the wine, which prompts Carlos to lean over the table and capture her lips. She's surprised, her whole body seeming to stiffen, and for a moment, Carlos regrets it. But a few seconds later, her tongue finds his, intensifying the kiss, her hand moving to the nape of his neck. Things escalate quickly. It only takes them a few minutes to abandon plates, glasses of wine, and clothing along the way and throw themselves onto the double bed in the apartment.

All day, she let him make the decisions. The one to leave the gelato shop. The one to cross the bridge. The one to eat dinner at his place. So Carlos is particularly surprised when she pushes him onto the bed, kissing him passionately before descending to his groin, and his already almost painful hard-on. Her hand barely brushes against his cock, her touch delicate, but already, his whole body is on fire. At her mercy.

"Wait," he says, sitting up on his elbows. "Are you sure? I can make you feel good."

"Let me thank you for this fantastic dinner," she says, watching him through her lashes, eyes dark.

Her hand wraps around him, and her expert movements begin, running her thumb over the tip, letting a trickle of saliva drip from her mouth to its tip.

"Fucking hell", he swears, falling back.

Her mouth finds him, and she plays with her tongue, hollowing her cheeks, taking him as far as she can until tears well up in the corners of his eyes. His moans intensify, assuring her that she's doing well, that he appreciates her efforts. Her little game lasts for a while, his hands lost in the mass of her hair, pulling at the roots, uttering profanities. Praising her. Then suddenly, he sits up, letting out a "wait" that makes her stop abruptly.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asks, wiping her mouth.

"No, you did... Everything right. Too right. I was going to, erm..."

"Oh!" she utters, stiffling a laugh.

"Now, let me take care of you," he says, flipping her over on the bed, his body on top of hers.

They kiss, something she's never done with other flings, other one-night stands. Something so deeply intimate, so dangerous. Their tongues meet, explore each other. He bites her lip and she lets out a moan so loud that she surprises even herself. This guy has way too much of an effect on me, she thinks, getting lost in his eyes. Hypnotizing eyes, he thinks, surrendering to them.

Pressing kisses along her neck, on her collarbones, and then on her breasts, his mouth finds one of her nipples, over which he slides his tongue, eliciting moans from her. Feeling her receptive, he tries something else, nibbling on it, pressing his warm mouth against it. For several minutes, he alternates from one nipple to the other, from one nipple to her mouth, from her mouth to the other nipple. His mouth, his teeth, are everywhere. Warm. Intoxicating. Suddenly, she clings to his shoulders, her mouth slightly open, and he can't help but scrutinize her, observe every movement, every expression on her face.

"Oh, god," she says, her head thrown back, a strand of hair in front of her eyes.

And she cums. It's probably the most beautiful, the most exciting thing he's ever seen in his life. His cock pulses, aching, and for a moment, he thinks he's going to empty himself there, on her stomach. Like a fucking teenager. But he has other plans, and he intends on making good use of them.

"Wow," she says, coming down from her orgasm. "I've never come from this before."

"Well, you did say that you wanted to find out things about yourself," he replies with a cocky grin.

She smiles, grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him towards her. He settles between her legs, his hand sliding between them, to her core. She's wet, her excitement glistening along her thighs. Onto the sheets. And who is he to judge, he, whose erection is almost painful, fueled by thoughts of slipping into her, making her his home for eternity.

In a kiss, he spreads her legs, positioning himself at her core, casting her a final confirming glance to which she responds by kissing him again, feverishly. He's inside her in one motion, and once again, he must focus to not explode within her walls.

"Fuck," he says, going as deep as possible. "Where were you all this time?"

"Oh, you know, at the ice cream shop. Asking for love," she replies, laughing.

He bites her shoulder, starting to move. Alternating between deliciously long moments where she moans, begging for more. And others where he ravages her, devouring her neck. Her lips. After some time, they're both panting, and he presses his forehead to her.

"I want you to ride me," he says, kissing her again. "I want to see you. All of you."

And she complies, swapping positions, sitting on his hard cock. Riding him without even thinking. Throwing her head back until her hair tickles his thighs. His hands find her breasts, holding them, kissing them.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers. "So good at riding me."

"Stop talking like this or I'm gonna cum," she says, whining.

"Would this be a bad thing?"

"I want this to last as long as possible," she says, pressing her nose to his.

He helps her, lifting her thighs to ease her movements, caressing her shoulders, her breasts, her hips. It lasts a moment, until she places both hands on his chest, her legs trembling.

"Let it go, hermosa," he says, holding her ass. "Cum for me, baby."

And she does, releasing a series of moans that make him bite his lip. He himself can't take it anymore, holding back his pleasure for some time. She feels it. The way his penis twitches. The squinting of his eyes. His short breath.

"Cum inside," she says, eyes still closed. "I want to feel you."

A few thrusts later, he empties himself deep inside her, with a grunt that could make her go for another round without thinking.

"La hostia," he breathes, panting. "¿Qué me has hecho, hermosa?"

"Was it that bad that you lost your English?" she asks, her head resting on his chest.

"You almost had me speaking French, that's to say," he laughs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks, suddenly self-conscious.

"Please, stay."

Several hours later, Carlos is snoring softly, and doesn't even hear the alarm clock of the young woman ringing. She grabs her phone, squinting against the brightness, checking the time. Four in the morning. Her flight is at 7, on the other side of the city. She has pre-ordered a taxi that should arrive within thirty minutes to take her back to her rental, so she can grab her suitcase before heading to the airport. She reluctantly slips out from under the warm covers, casting a glance at her lover, peacefully asleep. Should she wake him up? Say goodbye? She's always left her one-night stands without a word, without a glance. But him... she thinks. This was different. Maybe...

Spotting a notebook and a pen on the bedroom desk, she seizes them, scribbling a few words. Nothing seems good enough, yet she wants to try. She writes mindlessly, throwing in a thank you for everything, a best night of my life, a hope to see you again someday before leaving the note on her pillow. Twenty minutes later, she's gone, her perfume still lingering in the room.

Ten days later

"What's up with you?" Charles asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What?"

"You're not there. So, where are you?" his teammate asks again.

So, he tells him everything. His trip to Lisbon to clear his head. His meeting with her, the very first day. Their afternoon. Their night. The next morning, alone. Her note. And the thoughts haunting his mind ever since.

"Why didn't you write to her if she affects you so much?" Charles asks, perplexed.

"She didn't leave me her number," Carlos sighs, dejected. "Not even an address. Nothing."

"You said she was a professor? At Oxford?" Charles asks, invested, as Carlos nods, zipping up his firesuit. "Foreign civilizations, yeah?" Another nod from Carlos. "Have you searched for her email? It must be on the university website, right? For students who need to contact her?"

Carlos' face lights up in a second.

"You, fucking cabrón," he says, holding Charles by the shoulders. "How did I not think of that?"

A few minutes later, as he's about to put down his phone before heading for the qualifying session, Carlos writes the final words on the email destined to his beautiful stranger. Finding her email was surprisingly easy. Summarizing everything he wanted to say in a few lines was more challenging. Letting out a deep breath and pressing the send button, the Spaniard sets his phone down before joining his race car and slipping inside. Nervously on edge. Not about the upcoming session, no. Something else. Deliciously nerve-wracking.

As he speeds around the track, completing lap after lap, he misses the screen of his phone lighting up, announcing an email of which only the first line is visible.

"Hi stranger... I was beginning to think you'd never find me."

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick It Spit It - where'd you put it (extra)

A/n: thought I'd add a lil smth smth since everyone's loving the previous story, enjoy you horny mfs MUAH 💋

Warnings - suggestiveness not really any smut. Still mdni just in case doe <3

The original - masterlist

After that blissed out night, you've been wearing that underwear. All. The. Time. And she loved it, it drove her mental. Whether you were just wearing a plain t-shirt with them around the house. You'd wear them with skirts in public. You were like an intoxicating drug in her eyes, mind and soul. She truly couldn't get enough.

So much so, you found them missing on occasion. Either they were in the wash, or Ms Eilish had them somewhere in her possession. Theyd tend to go missing when you take them off after a long day. Her fucking favorite. Once you eventually caught on it was her doing the abducting, you came to her. Justtt to ask. Even though you had all the idea on why she did.

"Bils." You say going over to her and patting her down. "Frisky much?" She replies. "Where on earth have you put them." She brings her finger up to her lips. " 's a secret." You roll your eyes. "Billieeee." "Fine fine, they're probably in my pants on the sofa in our room." Your eyebrow raises. "Probably?" She shrugs. "Orrr they could be in a few others- I can't remember which." You sigh at the response. "You're crazy." You say heading for the stairs. "For you? Fuck yeah baby!"

It had become a habit that she'd stick them in her Jean pants. She'd take it to work sometimes forgetting where she was, and the fact she still had them in there until Finneas embarrassed the shit out of her. Or more so herself.

"We could maybe do something like this-" He began to speak about the stuff they were working on, when he noticed something on the floor. He knew Clauds underwear and that was something she definitely didn't own. "What on earth." He bends slightly, picking it up. Billies eyes widen, so incredibly wide her eyes might've popped out. Her cheeks go so red, snatching them out of his hand. Fuck, you dumbass idiot. She swallows. There was an awkward silence wondering how he was going to react. When this dude, let's out the wheeziest laugh known to man.

Billies eyes rest, almost glearing at him. "That is not funny, I can't believe that just fucking happened." He tries to control his laughter. "You truly are a dumbass." She swats his arm but he just continues his giggles. "Back to work come on." She spits, having enough of the laughing. "I was like- hmm Claudia doesn't own anything this-" "FINNEAS." She groans. He just laughs some more, she was never living that down. But Billie being Billie she eventually joins in on the laughing, shaking her head at the silly situation.

Yet again you were on the search for them, looking through most of her pants. You gave up in the end, calling her.

"You have them as we speak don't you."

"Well damn, you caught me."

Even during she needed them. Just the fact such a tight slutty thing was on your body for the whole day drove her wild, she didn't care in the slightest how filthy any action may be. Sniffing them, so on and so on. One of her filthy fantasies was you having them in your mouth, as you rode her. Just dangling there between your teeth. You were a tad bit confused at why she requested that, but the way she'd moan under you. The way she'd say your name. The feeling of her fingertips on the skin of your thighs as you rode her. Mixed in with your tits bouncing in her face. It was foul, but she enjoyed every single bit of it.

She was so thankful you went into that shop that day. Blessing not only you with a pretty pair of new underwear. But her aswel, getting the pleasure of witnessing it first hand.

You're welcome

[harknessxo]

HIIIII LIIIIIIZ!!! just popping in to send some love and hugs and a request (bc I watched Agatha series) Agatha x reader where Agatha is the most trusted person in reader’s life but -without Reader’s knowing- is also reader’s crazy stalker

I hope you’re doing well sweetie!!!!

Paring: Serial-killer!Stalker!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: Unbeknownst to you, you had the pleasure of being Agatha’s next victim but she takes a liking to you.

Warnings; bit of angst, death (not the reader), kidnapping, stalking.

Word Count: 3.3k

Part 2, Part 3

A/n: I know the request was for stalker!Agatha BUT it’s spooky season so I made her a serial killer too. Also, three key factors inspired this number one being the fanfic Way Down We Go by @p-taryn-dactyl , number two being the series Killing Eve, and lastly the song The Diner.

Agatha had been on a killing spree for the past three months. She would go after the women that looked like someone from her past that did her wrong. Why you may ask? Because she was still seething in her own self hatred for allowing herself to trust and needed someone, or someones, to take it out on. Of course the police had been trying to catch her but she never left enough clues or evidence behind for them to tie anything to.

All the crime scenes looked the same. The person was murder by a slit throat left with a purple Agatha Christie stuffed in their mouth and the scene was cleaned out, leaving no trace of any DNA. They called her the Angel of Death. All they knew was that all the victims seemed to have the same features and that Agatha would stalk them before she killed them.

Unbeknownst to you, you had the pleasure of being Agatha’s next victim. You fit the description of the person that did her wrong and like all her other ​​casualties, she started stalking you. Details from where you worked to what type of coffee you drank. She did all of this to find the perfect moment to strike but this time it was different. For some odd reason she felt drawn to you.

She had been watching you from afar for weeks now. She knew your work schedule, your favorite coffee shop, and even what type of movies you liked to watch. It was strange to her, she had never felt this way before about any of her other victims. She was drawn to you in a way that she couldn’t explain. She wanted to get closer to you, but she knew that she couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

It was recently that you started to feel watched, like there was always someone looming over you but when you turned around there was no one there. You thought you were just paranoid, that your anxiety was getting the best of you but things in your house started to disappear.

Agatha would sneak into your house at night, taking small things here and there. She wanted to learn more about you, but she didn’t want to risk being seen. She was being careful not to leave any trace of herself behind. She knew that the more she took, the more likely you would notice, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something about you that she just couldn’t resist.

You truly started to get scared when your underwear started going missing as well. You told your best friend Wanda about it and she comforted you. She told you to talk to the police and you did but they told you you didn’t have enough evidence and that maybe you had simply misplaced your things. You felt terrified and then came the day you actually met Agatha.

She applied for a job at the same place you worked, hoping to get closer to you. She said her name was Agnes to avoid raising any suspicion. She was excited to be working in the same place as you, but she had to keep her cool and act like she didn’t know anything about you. She kept her distance, wanting you to be the one who approached her and it finally happened when you accidentally bumped into her in the lounge room.

Agatha had been in the lounge, pretending to be on her phone purposely getting in your way so you bumped into her. She stumbled a bit, pretending to be surprised by the collision.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see where I was going!” You started to apologize immediately.

“It’s alright, dear, no harm done.” She said, looking you up and down. You were even more interesting up close.

“I have never seen you before, are you new?” You asked curiously after taking a look at her. Agatha nodded, maintaining her friendly demeanor.

“I started a few days ago, yes.” She replied with a smile. “My name’s Agnes. What’s yours?”

“I’m Y/n.” You shook her hand. She smiled as you shook her hand, her grip a little tighter than necessary. She had finally gotten to meet you, and she was trying to hide her excitement.

“Y/n, what a lovely name,” she said, still holding your hand, “I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends.”

“I- thank you,” you blushed at the compliment, “well I have to get back to work, I’ll see you around!” She nodded, watching you walk away. She knew she had to be careful not to let her true intentions show, but it was getting harder and harder to resist, she knew you were meant to be.

“See you around.” She said quietly. She couldn’t help but watch you walk away, admiring your figure. She wanted to reach out and grab you, to pull you back and keep you close to her. But she knew she had to be patient. She had a plan, and she was determined to see it through. She made a mental note to keep a closer eye on you, and to continue her little “games” with your belongings.

Over the passing weeks Agatha’s obsession over you only grew. She stalked you almost constantly and when she wasn’t doing that, she was out killing. As Agatha began getting closer to you, gaining your trust, there was someone getting in her way, Wanda.

Agatha had been so focused on you that she hadn’t noticed Wanda’s presence. Wanda had been watching Agatha from afar, sensing something was off about her. She knew that Agatha was up to something, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Wanda had tried to approach you, to warn you about her, but Agatha had always managed to intercept her.

You didn’t understand why Wanda was so against Agnes. Agnes was always sweet to you and helped you out with everything. At some point you started telling her everything about the things that had been happening to you, that of course being her. She would listen intently as you told her about the things that had been happening to you. She would nod and act sympathetic, even though she was the one behind it all. She would offer advice and try to comfort you, all while secretly enjoying your trust in her.

She was a master manipulator. She knew exactly what to say and do to keep you under her spell. She would listen to your worries and fears, offering you comfort and support. She would pretend to be concerned about the things that were happening to you, all the while secretly relishing in your fear and vulnerability. She knew that she had you wrapped around her finger, and she was loving every minute of it.

“That’s really strange. I really hope it’s not a stalker or anything.” She said with fake sympathy.

“I’m starting to get scared, Agnes. What if I’m being stalked by that serial killer that’s been all over the news?” Agatha tried to suppress a smirk, but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at the fact that you were scared of her.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing. You’re perfectly safe.” She said, placing a hand over yours in a comforting gesture.

“I hope you’re right. I was actually thinking of staying with Wanda for the weekend. She’s been worried about me.” Agatha’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of Wanda’s name. She didn’t like the idea of you staying with her. She wanted you to rely on her, not Wanda. She forced a smile onto her face, trying to hide her jealousy.

“Wanda, huh? You sure that’s a good idea? You don’t want to be a burden to her.”

“Oh no she wouldn’t mind. I’ve stayed with her countless times plus it was her idea.” Her grip on your hand tightened even more. She was getting annoyed now. She didn’t like the idea of you staying with someone else, especially Wanda. She forced herself to relax, not wanting to raise any suspicion.

“Just for the weekend?”

“Yeah, I just need a quick break from all this craziness.” Agatha nodded, her expression unreadable. She didn’t want to push the issue any further, but she couldn’t help but feel anger and frustration. She didn’t like the idea of you being away from her, even if it was just for a night.

“Are you alright, Agnes?” You asked, sensing the sudden change in mood. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked at you with a forced smile.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, that’s all.” She said, trying to sound casual. She let go of your hand and straightened up, “I must get back to work. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course. See you Monday!”

She gave you one last look before walking away. She couldn’t believe you were going to stay with Wanda. She clenched her fists in anger, trying to control her emotions. She knew she had to find a way to keep you close to her, and she would do whatever it takes even if it meant hurting you slightly.

After much thinking, a plan was made in her mind. She was going to follow you to Wanda’s house so she would know where she lived and after that all she had to do was wait for you to leave the next day so she could kill Wanda.

She waited until you left work before following you to Wanda’s house. She made sure to keep a safe distance, not wanting to be seen. She watched as you entered the house, making a mental note of the address before driving back to her house to get her things ready. She made sure to pick the freshest purple Agatha Christie from her garden.

You hung out with Wanda the whole day the next day. Watching movies or just simply talking. You dreaded having to go back home. It was around 11:24 when you finished the last movie of the night. You and Wanda talked for a little longer before you started to gather your things and bid her goodbye.

Agatha watched from a distance as you said goodbye to Wanda. She was growing impatient, waiting for you to leave. She was tempted to just barge in and take you away, but she knew she had to wait. She watched as you left the house, making sure you were out of sight before making her move. She sneaked inside Wanda’s house through the front door that was dumbly left unlocked. She stepped inside slowly but the door creaked as she was closing it.

“Y/n? Is that you?” Wanda called out from her couch. Agatha froze at the sound of Wanda’s voice. She had hoped that she would be able to sneak in without being noticed but it was just a little bump in the road. She decided to simply walk into view.

“No, it’s not Y/n…” Wanda quickly jumped off of the couch as soon as she saw it wasn’t you.

“Agnes? What the hell are you doing here!?” Agatha smirked as she saw the look of fear on Wanda’s face. She stepped further into the room, her eyes fixed on the redhead.

“Oh, you know, just paying a little visit,” Agatha said casually while playing with the knife in her hands.

“Get out of my house you psycho!” Wanda shouted, backing away slowly. Agatha chuckled, taking a step closer to her.

“Now now, no need to be rude. I just want to have a little chat with you. You see, I have a little score to settle,” she said, her voice dripping with malice.

“Score? What the hell are you talking about?” Agatha took another step closer, her eyes glinting with madness.

“You’ve been getting in my way, Wanda. You’ve been trying to keep Y/n away from me. I can’t have that, you see. I need her, I know we are meant to be and I won’t let anyone stand in my way.”

“You…you’re her stalker aren’t you?” Wanda’s voice trembled. The brunette smirked, her grip on the knife tightening.

“Guilty as charged…well not really,” she said with a twisted smile. “And I’m here to make sure you don’t get in my way anymore.”

Wanda tried to make a run for her back door but Agatha caught up to her, yanking Wanda back by her hair making her yelp in pain. Agatha pinned her body against her own, the knife pressed against Wanda’s throat.

“Naughty girl. Trying to run away from me,” Agatha hissed, “Any last words?” Agatha whispered into her ear tauntingly but before she could actually say anything she slit her throat. Wanda’s body dropped on the floor with a thud. Agatha stood over her, watching as she choked on her own blood when suddenly she heard the front door open.

“Wanda? I accidentally forgot my phone on the coffee table-” You froze in your tracks at the sight before you, Wanda’s agonizing body on the floor with a purple Agatha Christie in her mouth. You ran to her body, laying her head in your lap.

“Wanda! Wanda, stay with me! Please!” You sobbed holding her now cold body closer. Eventually you got a hold of your phone and with your bloody hands dilated 911. They arrived at the scene quite fast and it was determined that this was yet another killing from the Angel of Death. They took you into questioning and you told them what had happened.

You told them you had stayed with Wanda and left at around 11:43. Half way through the way home you realized you had left your phone at her house. You just let yourself in knowing Wanda wouldn’t have minded and that’s when you found her dead body. By the looks of your interrogation and the way the crime scene was left a mess they came to the conclusion that you had interrupted the killer's kill.

They send you back home after giving you a change of clothes. A police officer escorted you home and made sure no one was inside before leaving. You made sure all your doors and windows were locked before you decided to take a shower. It was hard for you to fall asleep after what you had witnessed. It wasn't until about 3 am that you finally fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up feeling very groggy. You went into your kitchen to make coffee and that's when your phone started ringing. You were quick to answer it when you saw it was your coworker Monica.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, are you home?”

“Yes I am, why?”

“I need you to turn on your tv like right now.”

“Um okay,” you speed walked to your living room and turned your tv on to the news channel.

“What did you want me to-” you paused when you saw it. It was a picture of Agnes on your screen with the headline being ‘The serial killer known as The Angel of Death has been identified as Agatha Harkness’.

“Y/n? Are you still there?”

“…she was right there…the whole time- she lied about her name- she fucking killed Wanda!”

“I know. I’m so sorry Y/n. Do you have some family you can stay with? I think it might be best if you called the police.”

“I…I don’t have anyone else. Wanda was all I had.”

“I’m truly sorry for your loss. Why don’t you stay with me? Just until they catch that psycho.”

“I think that’s a good idea. Can you pick me up in an hour? I’m gonna call the police and pack a few things.”

“Yeah that’s fine, just send me your address. I’ll see you then.”

“See you.” you hung up finally let your tears fall. You hid your face in your hands when you heard your doorbell ring. You quickly wiped your tears and walked towards the door. You checked the peephole and saw nothing. You were about to walk back to the kitchen but curiosity got the best of you and you decided to open it. At first you saw nothing until you looked down. A purple Agatha Christie with a tag attached to it. You shakily picked it up and read it. ‘Sorry, baby.’ It read. You immediately closed the door and locked it. You walked back to the living room where you had left your phone to call the police but froze when you saw someone sitting on your couch.

“Ag- Agnes-”

“Now you know that’s not my actual name,” she turned to look at you.

“Agatha…”

“Good Girl, Now I need you to behave and not run.” Of course you didn’t listen and made a run for the door but Agatha tackled you to the floor. You started to scream for help, trying to get away from her hold but she covered your mouth.

“Shh, sweet girl, I can’t have you getting me in trouble. I did this for us, okay?” She said, her voice soft but deadly. You only looked at her with absolute fear in your eyes, realizing who this woman was. She held you down, her grip tight on your body. She looked down at you with a mix of possessiveness and obsession. She knew that you were terrified of her, but she didn’t care. In fact, she found it endearing.

“Don’t be afraid of me, sweetheart. I couldn’t have you spending time with that…Wanda, when you belong to me,” she said, spitting out Wanda’s name with disgust, “Now I am going to move my hand and you’re going to stay as quiet as a mouse, understood?”

You hesitantly nodded your head in response. The second she moved her hand away you started to scream at the top of your lungs. Her expression turned cold as you started to scream. She quickly covered your mouth again, her eyes flashing with anger.

“I told you to be quiet,” she hissed, “I don’t want anyone else to hear you. You’re mine, and I’m not going to let anyone take you away from me. Don’t make me hurt you.” She pulled you closer to her, her body pressing against yours as she held you in a vice-like grip. You didn’t listen and kept squirming against her, your screams muffled by her hand. She sighed defeated before taking a syringe out of her pocket and injecting it into your neck.

The effects of the syringe were quick. Within seconds, you felt your body growing heavy and your mind becoming fuzzy. You tried to fight it, but it was no use. Your screams slowly faded away as your body went limp in her arms.

“If only you would have listened.” She gently picked you up and carried you over to the couch, laying you down on it, “You’re so much more beautiful when you’re quiet,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of possessiveness and adoration before she went to pack a couple of your things.

After she was done, she picked up again and took you to her car, placing you down on the passenger seat. She got into the driver’s seat and started the car, driving off. She glanced over at you, her eyes filled with a mixture of possessiveness and affection. She reached over and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, her touch surprisingly gentle.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re safe now. You’re with me.”

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