#wanted to make this set more bright and vibrant

[tj-dragonblade]

[Fluffbruary FIC] Without Warning Something's Dawning (Listen)

Fandom: The Sandman Pairing: Dreamling Rated: T Word Count: 659 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2025, Human AU, Rich Guy Dream, Mechanic Hob, scent, feelings contemplation, mild Dream-typical angst

Notes: Coming out of left field, we have a surprise fluff entry in the Turbo Lover universe! My brain saw 'green' and 'grey' and went straight to the clothes left on the couch last time around. 'Anticipation' is always an easy theme with this AU as well. Title of course from the Judas Priest song that I named the series after and Dream really ought to take that parenthetical to heart.

Fluffbruary 2025 Prompts: Day 4: green | grey | chess Day 5: anticipation | nonsense | mail

Summary: Dream wanders through his thoughts about Hob

On AO3

It is late afternoon by the time Dream gets to the clothes left in the drawing room. Hob had spent the morning with him lounging in the sunny bay window of the breakfast nook, resplendent in the skimpy teal green dressing gown Dream had gifted him, animatedly discussing literature through the ages. It was a delightful surprise to discover this commonality between them, that Hob was excited to debate the merits of Shakespeare and expound on his favorites from Byron or Chaucer or Austen or Marlowe, and morning had passed into the noon hour before Dream realized it.

Reluctantly then he had retrieved Hob's original clothing from yesterday, from before they had picked up the suit, and once Hob was dressed Dream had driven him home in the Porsche. Or rather, Hob had driven with Dream in the passenger seat, watching how naturally he handled the damned temperamental machine, admiring the flex of his arms and hands as he shifted and steered and sneaking glances at the bright joy in his face.

It warms him even now, back at his quiet and empty house, the Porsche back in the garage, to recall the way Hob had glowed with delight, the grin he sported the whole drive, how right he looked settled in the car that Dream had never felt any true pride in until now.

He likes that Hob is happy driving his car; more specifically, he likes that driving his car makes Hob happy.

He likes making Hob happy.

Hob's happiness brings him happiness.

And he is happy, now, gathering last night's discarded clothing from the green velvet couch, reminded of how it came to be scattered about. He still aches in all the right places, a lingering and welcome memento of their tryst. Hob is so good to him, so giving, indulging anything Dream wants and everything Dream asks of him, with enthusiasm.

They match so perfectly. Dream is forever grateful that he found his way to Matthew's Motor Repairs when the Porsche's clutch went out; Hob is truly the best thing to happen to him in a very long time.

He smiles, picking up Hob's silk shirt, remembering how perfect the vibrant dark teal-green color had looked on Hob, how it burnished the warm tones of his skin and set off the silver threads in his hair—just as Dream had known it would. He drapes the shirt over his arm and lifts the grey suit jacket, shaking it out, bringing the lapels to his face and inhaling. Hob's cologne still clings faintly to the fabric, intertwined with the scent of Hob himself, and Dream feels a rush of anticipation for the next time that he can take it in first-hand, that he can twine himself into Hob's arms and bury his face at the base of Hob's throat, breathe him in, bask in the warmth and the strength of him. The thought curls soft in his stomach and he lets it settle, gathers Hob's trousers and his own rumpled clothing as well, sets it all in a pile. He will have it all delivered to his laundry service to clean and press and return, that he might dress Hob in his lovely ensemble once again, show him off on the town again, bring him home and strip him out of it again.

Hob, he knows, will let him do all of it willingly. Will participate joyously, with warmth and enthusiasm and that beautiful smile, with that bright sparkle in his eye, with heady delight in fulfilling Dream's wishes.

He is more than Dream deserves, and surely Dream will not be able to keep him forever. All things fade; once upon a time he had thought making Alex happy was the key to fulfillment, after all.

But he will keep Hob as long as he can, in whatever way he can and bask in their mutual happiness for as long as he can make it last.

= Started: 2/3/25 Drafted: 2/4/25 Posted: 2/5/25

Previously in the series, in case AO3 is down: Customer Service With Every Nerve Alive Loyalty Rewards Program Shift to Overdrive Love Machines in Harmony

[sandreeen]

⍟ Oshi no Ko Episode 5 Opening Credits ⍟

[bylrndgm]

summer 1985, hawkins.

byler week 2023 | day iv: summer love song used

[physalian]

How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Or

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

—

These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

[thedreamingdevil]

Incest smut with Jeon Somi please! 🙏😭 Write whatever with her, I don't mind! She lacks smut around here 🥲

Don't Get Drunk

Jeon Somi × Male Reader (6,082 words)

Author's note: Sorry for being MIA! The new year has been a bit wild. I got a little too greedy and wanted to write all my ideas at once, but then I ended up not finishing anything. Lesson learned, right? I’m aiming to post one smut piece every two weeks from now on, so wish me luck! Also, my first non-Dreamcatcher smut, woo!

The dim glow of your television paints the walls of your living room in shifting shades of blue as you lose yourself in the hardcore porn playing loudly on screen. Your hand traces the thick veins throbbing beneath the skin of your cock. Each stroke sends a pleasurable jolt through you as you watch the bodies writhe and moan.

Boxers are all you bother with tonight, the cool air raising goosebumps on your bare chest, a stark contrast to the heat building in your groin. You're completely engrossed, riding the edge of release, when a jarring buzz cuts through the porn’s soundtrack. Annoyance flares instantly, a tight knot in your stomach pulling you from the brink of pleasure.

You glance at your phone screen, the bright numbers mocking you: 12:37 AM. Who the hell is ringing your doorbell at this ungodly hour? It’s Saturday night, for fuck’s sake, people are supposed to be out partying, not bothering you in your sanctuary of solitude and self-love.

Before you can fully register your irritation, the doorbell bleats again, a longer, more insistent sound this time, as if the person on the other side is determined to get your attention. With a frustrated click of your tongue, you reluctantly pull your boxers up, the soft fabric momentarily trapping your still-hard dick.

The buzz resonates again, now bordering on aggressive. Fine, you think, you'll answer it and send whoever it is packing. You stomp to the door, adrenaline mixed with residual horniness making your movements jerky. You yank the door open with more force than necessary, ready to unleash a volley of irritated questions, but the words die on your tongue.

Standing on your doorstep are two women. One, a vibrant shock of pink hair, is supporting the other, who is practically draped over her shoulder. And you recognize them instantly. It's your older sister, Somi, completely plastered, and her eternally bubbly, pink-haired friend, Giselle.

Heat floods your face, a flush of embarrassment. You hadn’t expected visitors, especially not now, especially not in this state, shirtless and still smelling faintly of your own musk. You try to subtly tug your boxers higher, hoping they conceal enough. Giselle, however, just beams at you, her smile wide and bright even in the dim hallway light.

“Hey!” she chirps, her voice slightly breathless from the effort of holding up your taller sister. “Sorry to bother you so late, but well, Somi insisted on coming here.” Giselle’s eyes flick towards you, her smile softening into an apologetic curve. “I offered to let her crash at my place, but she was really set on seeing you.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and pushing down the lingering mortification. Somi is a mess. Her blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, hangs in tangled clumps around her face. Her white blouse is askew, twisted so far to the side that the lacy edge of her bra is clearly visible, and the swell of her tits threatens to spill out of the neckline with every unsteady breath she takes.

She looks up at you, her eyes unfocused and glassy, and a wide, goofy grin spreads across her face. She slurs your name, her voice thick with alcohol. “You’re the best! Thank you for letting me stay!” She doesn’t even wait for you to agree, just assumes she’s welcome, as always.

Giselle’s voice cuts through Somi’s drunken ramblings, bringing you back to the awkward reality of the situation. “Yeah, sorry about this,” she repeats, her pronunciation softening the words. “I really tried to get her to come to my place, but… yeah, you see how that worked out.” She gestures helplessly at Somi, who is now attempting to hug Giselle's arm, giggling nonsensically.

You manage a small smile. "It's fine," resignation coloring your tone. "I know how stubborn she can be when she's like this." It’s an understatement. Somi sober is headstrong; Somi drunk is a force of nature. With a sigh, you reach out and disentangle Somi from Giselle, taking your sister’s weight onto yourself.

Her soft body pressed against yours, her chest bumping against your bare arm. “Thanks for bringing this blondie here,” you say to Giselle, nodding your head in gratitude. “Want to come in for a bit?”

The offer is half-hearted, because the blaring porn audio suddenly registers in your mind, a pulsing rhythm vibrating through the thinly insulated walls.

Luckily, Giselle shakes her head, her pink hair swaying. “Oh, no, it’s really late,” she says, her smile still warm but tinged with tiredness. “I should probably head home. Just make sure she drinks some water, okay?”

You nod, a silent thank you. You can’t quite tell if Giselle heard the muffled throbbing bass from your apartment, but she’s smiling as usual, so maybe she’s either oblivious or just incredibly polite.

“Goodnight!” she calls out, waving as she turns to walk away, her pink hair bobbing in the dim light. “Goodnight, Somi!”

You close the door, the click echoing in the sudden quiet. Then, you turn your attention to the drunken blonde lump in your arms. Somi instantly latches onto you, clinging like a koala, her arms wrapping around your neck, her soft chest pressing firmly against your arm.

You notice then that her short skirt has ridden even higher throughout the evening’s drunken escapades, now barely covering her thighs. You grunt slightly at her unexpected weight, and half-drag, half-carry her towards the living room, her body limp and pliant against yours.

You dump her unceremoniously onto the stool of the kitchen countertop first, her breathing heavy and shallow. You stare down at her semi-conscious form, a jumble of irritation and something else stirring within you.

From as far back as you can remember, Somi has been a constant source of trouble. Always needing rescuing, always making messes, always relying on you to clean up after her.

You’d foolishly hoped that adulthood would bring some semblance of responsibility, some maturity, but tonight proves that she’s only gotten worse. And it’s always you who has to deal with it.

You’re barely an adult yourself, just out of high school, juggling odd jobs to make ends meet. You can barely afford to feed yourself, let alone constantly bail out your trainwreck of a sister.

But as you look at her now, drunk and vulnerable, a different kind of thought surfaces. Maybe, just maybe, Somi’s perpetual negligence, her constant state of disarray, maybe it could be useful to you in some way.

Your gaze roams over her curvy body, lingering on her glossy parted lips, slightly swollen and wet-looking. It drifts lower, to the generous mound of her breasts, straining against the fabric of her blouse, the nipples hardening against the thin material in the cool air.

Finally, your eyes settle on her exposed thighs, bare and pale beneath the hiked-up skirt. Your own cock, still semi-hard from earlier, stirs inside your boxers, tightening with renewed insistence.

The images from the porn movie on the screen flicker in your peripheral vision, blurring with the real, tempting flesh before you; you older sister. A dangerous, thrilling idea begins to take root in your mind.

Somi slurs her words, leaning heavily against the countertop. "Hey... sorry about all the trouble," she says, her voice low and deep. "But you don't mind, right? Cause we're siblings, after all." She lets out a giggle, a wet, bubbly sound that ends in a snort.

She stumbles further into your apartment, clumsily making her way to the couch like she expects you to scoop her up and carry her, like she is some fat, lazy crocodile ready to be provided endless comfort.

Her breasts, unrestrained by a bra, bounce with each unsteady step, quivering under her thin top as she collapses onto the couch, where she sprawls out, limbs akimbo, like she owns the damn place.

You watch her, a low chuckle rumbling in your chest, the predatory feeling already starting to stir. "Of course, sis," you say, your voice smooth, almost too gentle. "I will take care of my sister."

She grins drunkenly, eyes unfocused and glazed over. "Knew I could count on you," she mumbles, already drifting off, her words blurring together.

You watch her for a moment, the image of her sprawled out on your couch igniting a heat in your groin. Quietly, you push your boxers down, the sound amplified in the still room. You reach inside, your fingers closing around the thick shaft already straining against the fabric.

With a swift motion, you pull them down, freeing your rock-hard cock. It springs out, heavy and throbbing, pulsing with anticipation as you approach the couch, your footsteps silent on the carpet.

Lowering yourself, you position yourself directly in front of her face, your cock level with her slightly parted lips. Without a word, you guide the head of your cock to her mouth, the tip nudging against her wet lips.

Then, with a firm push, you slide your cock inside, the warmth and moisture of her mouth enveloping you. You hiss in pleasure, the sensation electric. Somi moans, a confused sound escaping her throat. Instinctively, she tries to pull her face away, a weak resistance against your forceful advance.

But you're ready. Your hand shoots out, gripping the back of her neck, your fingers tangling in her hair, holding her head firmly in place. You push deeper, inch after inch, forcing more of your length into her mouth. Her tongue, surprisingly, wraps around your shaft, massaging you, a primal, instinctive response even in her drunken stupor.

Somi’s voice is muffled, a garbled protest against your intrusive cock. "Mmmph… no…" she manages to moan against your flesh, her hand weakly pushing against your thigh, a pathetic attempt to dislodge you. Her eyes flutter half-open, unfocused and confused.

But you’re lost in the sensation, the friction of her mouth, the growing pleasure tightening your balls. You hiss again, a sharp intake of breath, as you slide in and out, slowly at first, savoring the feel. Her moans of unconscious protest only fuel your excitement.

You lean closer, "Come on, sis," you whisper, the word dripping with a sick intimacy. "I know you’re a good cocksucker." You shift your grip on her nape, tightening it possessively. "Just suck my cock every day, and then you can stay here as long as you want. You don’t have to hear Dad’s nagging at home anymore."

The proposition hangs in the air, a twisted bargain made in the heat of the lustful moment. Somi's head bobs rhythmically, almost unconsciously. Despite her mumbled protests, her mouth tightens around your cock, her body seemingly overriding her conscious mind.

Her back arches slightly off the couch, a subtle shift in posture that reveals a buried desire. Her legs clamp together, rubbing against each other, a telltale sign of her own arousal, even in this forced encounter.

It's as if her body knows, deep down, that she’s a slut at the core, always ready to submit to pleasure. She starts humming unconsciously, a low vibration against your shaft, and more saliva coats your cock, making each thrust slicker, smoother.

You slide in and out of her mouth, her soft lips wrapping tight, almost pleasurably so, around your girth. Her drunken unconsciousness seems to be turning into something else, something more primal and accepting.

Emboldened by her lack of real resistance and her body's involuntary responses, you become rougher, fucking her face deeper, your thrusts becoming faster and more forceful. Somi gags, a choked sound escaping her throat, her eyes watering slightly.

Her free hand, no longer weakly pushing, now clutches at your balls, a tighter grip, a more desperate attempt to push you away, but even then, she's still sucking, her mouth still working against your cock at the same time.

You feel a surge of dominance. "Fuck," you breathe out, your hand tightening on her neck, ignoring her attempts to push you away. "If my sister treats me like this, I don't even need a girlfriend." The thought, crude and selfish, reinforces your actions, justifying your violation in your own twisted mind.

After a few more slow, deliberate thrusts, you feel yourself reaching the edge. Your pace quickens, your groans growing louder, more animalistic. Then, you explode, cumming right inside her mouth, a thick, hot stream of ejaculate erupting from your cock, flooding her mouth.

It just keeps coming, a long, intense orgasm that lasts for nearly a minute. Somi gulps it all down, her throat working reflexively, despite choking and sputtering for air. Finally, you pull out, your cock slick with her saliva and your cum. Somi coughs, a wet, hacking sound, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, her eyes still hazy and unfocused.

"What the fuck was that?" she slurs, her voice raw and thick. You know she’s still not really sober, her awareness only just starting to flicker back.

You answer with a smirk, your voice light, almost joking, hiding the darkness of your actions. "Giselle said make sure I give you water, sis," you say, watching her confused flushed expression. "But I'm not sure it's quite enough."

The flickering images on the television screen cast an erratic light across the living room, but your attention is far from the movie. It’s fixed on Somi, your sister, sprawled haphazardly on the couch. You’d expected a slurry, indignant argument – the usual performance when she’s this deep into her cups.

Instead, she simply rolled, a slow, ungainly tumble, and landed with a soft thud onto the floor. A light snore rattles from her lips. You scoff, a dry, humorless sound. It's pathetic, really. You try to refocus on the screen, but the vibrant colors and action feel hollow, meaningless against the backdrop of this tableau.

The remote clicks in your hand, plunging the room into near darkness, save for the faint glow of the city lights filtering through the window. The silence is thick, broken only by Somi’s shallow breaths. Your gaze drifts back to her prone form. A different kind of heat begins to prickle under your skin. You let your eyes trace the curves of her body, the way her shirt rides up slightly, exposing a sliver of pale skin above her skirt.

Suddenly, the images that flood your mind are no longer scenes from the abandoned porn movie. They are scenarios starring Somi, her body pliant and yielding beneath your touch. The forbidden nature of the fantasy ignites a thrill, a dangerous spark that flares in your gut. You feel your cock stir once again, hardening stubbornly.

It’s a slow, insistent rise, fueled by a cocktail of curiosity and a dark, unsettling desire.

A short, mirthless laugh escapes your lips, echoing in the quiet room. "This is fucked up," you murmur to yourself, the words barely a whisper. And it is. Completely, utterly fucked up. Yet, the thought of stopping, of pulling back from the precipice of this madness, feels…unappealing.

A strange inertia holds you captive. No guilt washes over you, no immediate sense of revulsion. Instead, there's a chilling detachment, a sensation of watching yourself from a distance as you stand and, with a grunt, scoop your sister up from the floor. Her limbs are heavy, limp. You carry her back to the couch, the scent of cheap alcohol and something faintly floral clinging to her.

You lay her on her back, her head lolling to the side. Straddling her waist, you plant one knee deliberately between her thighs, feeling the soft give of her panties. Leaning close, your face inches from her slack-jawed, heaving face, you take a shallow breath, inhaling the boozy air she exhales.

Your hand, almost of its own volition, reaches out and closes over her breast, through the thin cotton of her shirt. You squeeze, your fingers sinking into the soft flesh. They’re soft. Softer than you assume. You knead, fondling the yielding mound, and Somi lets out a small, involuntary moan, a pathetic, muffled sound that vibrates against your fingertips.

Encouraged, or perhaps driven by something darker, you grip the hem of her shirt and tug it upwards, over her head. It’s a clumsy, quick motion, revealing her chest. Her breasts are already spilling over the lace edges of her bra, full and ripe. Without hesitation, you reach behind her and unhook the clasp, the plastic clicking open with a sharp sound in the quiet. The bra falls away, and her breasts, pale and heavy, are fully exposed.

A primal urge takes hold. You begin to play with them, your hands roaming over the smooth skin, groping and pulling, your thumbs circling her nipples, teasing them into hard buds. You repeat the circular motion, again and again, a hypnotic rhythm that feeds the growing tension in your groin.

"Fuck it," you breathe, another dry laugh rasping in your throat. "I can’t believe I’m actually doing this." The absurdity of the situation crashes into you for a fleeting moment.

Memories flicker in your mind – images of childhood games in the backyard, of late-night arguments over shared snacks, of sharing secrets whispered under the covers. Somi, your sister, the girl who used to play with your hair for fun and steal your candy. The contrast is jarring, sickening even. But your body, your treacherous body, has a different agenda.

Ignoring the ghost of shared history, you lean down, your mouth hovering over her smooth skin. With an act of transgression, you latch onto her brown nipple. Your heart hammers against your ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the room. You can’t stop now, not even if you wanted to.

You suck on Somi’s nipple, pulling and teasing, the sensation electrifying, forbidden. You taste her skin, a flavor you can’t quite place, something unfamiliar yet intimately connected to her. It’s salty, definitely salty, probably from sweat and the lingering remnants of her drink. But there’s also a sweetness, a subtle sugary note that plays on your tongue. Or maybe you’re just imagining it, your senses heightened by the illicit nature of this act.

It doesn't matter. Lost in the sensation, you keep sucking, alternating between her left and right breast, your hands massaging and kneading the soft flesh, milking them almost, as if trying to extract every last drop of sensation.

Suddenly, Somi’s hands are on your head. At first, they’re tentative, fluttering weakly against your scalp. But then, her fingers clench, digging into your hair, pulling with a surprising strength. She moans again, louder this time, a drawn-out sound that vibrates in your very bones. Her body begins to writhe beneath you, a subtle shift at first, then more pronounced.

Her legs come up, clamping around your waist, her thighs tightening, a silent, involuntary embrace. Her feet kick against the couch cushions, a restless energy fluttering through her limbs. Noticing the reaction, a flicker of something – triumph, perhaps, or a twisted kind of validation – sparks within you.

"Do you like this, Somi?" you murmur against her breast. "Do you want more?" Her eyelids flutter open, revealing unfocused, glazed eyes. She looks at you, a hint of confusion in her gaze, and then, instead of words, a soft whimper escapes her lips. It’s not a protest, not exactly. It’s something else.

Somi’s scent, a heady mix of alcohol and something uniquely her, urges you onward. You lift your head from her breast and trail kisses down her neck, nibbling and sucking at the soft flesh, feeling the pulse jump beneath your lips. Your hands roam lower, across her soft, slightly rounded tummy, towards her waist. You lift her hips slightly, your fingers finding the curve of her ass beneath her skirt.

The fabric is thin, offering little resistance as you squeeze her firm buttocks, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. This time, the whimper is replaced by something sharper, louder. "Wait, fuck…" she curses, her voice thick with sleep and confusion. "What the… what are you doing?" her voice is laced with a growing alarm.

You ignore Somi’s mumbled question, her words slurring slightly, and your hands tighten their grip on her bare breasts. “What…?” she starts to ask again, but you cut her off, your mouth descending to her stomach. You press kisses across her warm skin, the taste of her faintly sweet, before your tongue dips into her navel.

As you swirl your tongue around its depths, Somi’s back arches off the couch with a sharp groan. “Ahh…!” she protests weakly, a confused sound in her voice.

But beneath the protest, you feel the tremor in her body, the involuntary ripple of her muscles as she writhes against the weird, wet slide of your tongue. Her hands come up to your shoulders, gripping them, not pushing you away, but holding on as her body reacts in ways her words don't seem to understand.

Driven by a mounting excitement, you move your kisses lower, the line of her pelvis coming into focus. "Wait," Somi murmurs, but it’s barely audible. You’re already working on the button of her skirt, fingers fumbling with the clasp in your eagerness. With a snap, it gives way, and you roughly yank the fabric down, bunching it around her thighs, then off her legs completely.

You straighten up, her skirt now discarded on the floor, and you place her legs over your shoulders, spreading them wide. Her breath hitches, and a louder grunt escapes her lips as she instinctively tries to clamp her thighs shut. Her hands, still clumsy, reach down, attempting to shield her clothed pussy. “Stop, just… stop,” she mumbles, but her words are weak, unconvincing.

You slap her hands away from between her legs, the sound echoing in the quiet room, leaving her exposed. “Shhh,” you hush her, your voice low. “Don’t be shy, sis. We’re siblings, remember?” You gesture to the darkening stain spreading across the crotch of her panties. “Besides, you’re drunk. It’s okay. You want this, I know you do.”

You become rougher, your fingers hooking into the elastic waistband of her panties. There’s a sharp ripping sound as you tear the fabric apart, the thin material giving way easily. You pluck away the remaining tattered pieces, tossing them aside, leaving her completely bare. “See?” you say, your voice laced with a predatory satisfaction. “Nothing to hide.”

The scent of Somi’s arousal hits you full force, a heady musk that’s intoxicating, like a potent drug. It compels you, driving you to plunge your face directly into her exposed vulva. Her pussy is slick with her own juices, and the aroma is even stronger up close. You lick from the base of her swollen folds all the way up to her hard, throbbing clitoris, savoring every inch of her.

With each slow, deliberate lap of your tongue, you gulp in her flavor, the salty-sweet tang of her arousal filling your mouth. Somi gasps, her eyes fluttering open, wide and unfocused. A moan escapes her lips, soft at first, then growing louder, more desperate. “Please…” she whispers, her voice breaking, repeating the word again, “Please… please…”

Ignoring her plea, you continue to feast on her, your tongue relentlessly working her clit. You suck on the sensitive bud, drawing it deep into your mouth, slurping up every drop of juice she unknowingly produces. Her erratic moans and groans are music to your ears, confirming you’re doing exactly what her drunk body craves.

Holding her hips firmly in place with one hand, you suck her clit harder, then slide two fingers deep inside her wet pussy, curling them upwards against the sensitive walls. Somi’s back arches even higher, her ass lifting entirely off the couch as if she’s trying to grind herself against your mouth and thrusting fingers.

Her moaning intensifies, becoming higher-pitched, more needy, almost frantic. One hand presses against her stomach, flexing and unflexing, while the other hand clenches the edge of the couch, her knuckles white. Her breathing is ragged pants now, each inhale and exhale shuddering through her.

Lost in the intoxicating taste and feel of her, you barely register the shift until it’s undeniable. Somi grunts, her body tensing, and then a choked-off swear word bursts from her lips. A moment later, her orgasm explodes, her nectar suddenly flooding your mouth in a rush of warm, thick liquid.

You greedily drink as much as you can, slurping up the rest as her body shudders violently, then gradually stills. Her breathing remains heavy, ragged, but the tension slowly drains away. Her eyes are still half-lidded, blinking slowly at the ceiling, unfocused and glazed over.

You sit upright between her legs, pulling her closer until her thighs straddle your waist. Your own cock is throbbingly hard and it twitches insistently right in front of her wet, pink entrance. You chuckle, a low, satisfied sound. “Wow, look at you,” you say, gesturing to the slickness between her legs. “You came hard. Guess you had your fun, huh? Now it’s my turn.”

She slowly looks down at you, her expression still hazy, but then, surprisingly, a giggle bubbles up from her throat. She reaches down and her fingers close around her own breasts, giving them a soft, distracted rub, her eyes still drifting.

You watch as, with a languid movement, she cups her breasts, fingers kneading and teasing, her thumbs circling and flicking over her taut nipples, bringing them to hard peaks. A low moan escaped her lips, mixing with your faint breathing. Then, a shift in posture. She hooks her hands beneath her knees, pulling them abruptly upwards, her thighs parting wide, an unapologetic display. Her legs frame the thin triangle at her core, slick and glistening even presented to you like a forbidden offering.

A laugh bubbles up from your chest. "Holy shit, sis," you manage, your voice a little breathless, a mix of shock. "Are you...are you actually into this right now?" Your older sister’s eyes, heavy-lidded with drink, meet yours, a flicker of something mischievous dancing within their depths. She bites down on her lower lip, a playful tug that accentuates its fullness, and a giggle, soft and throaty, escapes.

"Mmm," she hums, her gaze drifting down your body before returning to your eyes. "You've got a nice cock, you know that?" Her words are slurred but clear, each syllable deliberately laced with invitation. "And I think," her voice dropping to a whisper, "you totally need to put it inside my pussy."

The blatant filth dripping from your sister’s usually prim lips ignites something. A hot rush floods your groin. Without a second thought, your hand clamps around your already hardening shaft, the throbbing vein beneath your fingers pulsing with anticipation. You take a step closer, the couch looming, and you smack your engorged cock against the wet folds of her vulva. The sound is wet and resonant, echoing in the quiet room.

Somi’s breath hitches, a gasp turning into a drawn-out moan as the contact sends jolts of pleasure through her. Her body arches off the couch cushion, her hips bucking instinctively against your hand. The slick pre-cum and her own juices splatter outwards, glistening on her thighs and the velvet of the couch.

"Okay then, sis. I'm gonna fuck you now." You straddle her legs, parting them further with your knees, positioning yourself above her exposed core. With agonizing slowness, you guide the swollen head of your cock to the entrance of her slick, warm pussy, feeling the velvety soft lips part to receive you. Then, in one controlled motion, you push forward, sinking into her depths.

Her breath catches again, a sharp intake that quickly turns into a sigh of pure sensation as you slide deeper, the tight walls of her sheath gripping you like a hot glove. You grip her hips, anchoring her as you begin to move, driving forward with a slow thrust. Somi’s back arches even further, her breasts lifting towards the ceiling, straining against their own weight.

Her head throws forward as she tries to steal a glimpse of your cock disappearing deep inside her stretched pussy. You pause at the deepest point, holding yourself there for a heartbeat, savoring the fullness, the intimate pressure, the feeling of being buried inside her. Pulling back just until the tip is still nestled inside her, you slam forward again, burying yourself to the hilt.

A groan escapes her lips, her sweaty body rippling with the force of the impact, her muscles clenching around you in response. You repeat the rhythm, each thrust deeper and harder than the last, fucking your older sister with a growing urgency, your hands gripping her waist, pulling her towards you, meeting each of your deep, hard thrusts with an equally frantic upward lift of her hips.

Somi’s breasts bounce wildly, swaying up and down unevenly, the fleshy mounds jiggling with each powerful stroke, the underside of your balls slapping against the soft crack of her ass with a rhythmic thud. The sounds of your bodies colliding fill the room, punctuated by her escalating moans and your own ragged breaths.

"Oh, fuck," Somi mumbles drunkenly, words thick with pleasure, her hands now clutching at your shoulders, digging into your muscle. "It's so deep," she gasps, "fuck me harder, please."

The raw desperation in her voice is intoxicating. Driven by her pleas and the mounting intensity within you, you snap your hips harder, the pace quickening, the friction building. You lean down, burying your face in the curve of her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin, hot and flushed and intoxicating, and whisper against her ear, "If I go any harder, sis, I might just cum inside you and get you pregnant."

Of course, Somi was too far gone to grasp the implications of your words. Her mind was lost in the swirling vortex of pleasure. She just kept mumbling incoherently, her only coherent plea being, "fuck me harder… it's so good… I’m… almost… cumming…" Her toes curled inwards, digging into the couch cushion, and her hands clutched at your back, her nails lightly raking against your skin. Her tits were squished against your chest, their soft weight a delicious friction as your nose inhaled the intoxicating scent from the crook of her neck.

Your breathing grew shallow and rapid, your body straining with the effort to prolong this forbidden bliss. But Somi wasn't holding back any longer. Her movements stilled, her body suddenly going rigid beneath you. A silent wave of tension washed over her, replaced in moments by a shuddering release. You didn't need her to say a word; you felt it instantly, a hot, pulsing sensation as her orgasm flooded down around your pistoning cock, her inner muscles clenching and spasming in rhythmic waves.

The realization that you were fucking your own older sister raw, the echo of her voice begging for more, the wet, slick feel of her orgasm enveloping your cock – it all coalesced into an overwhelming wave of sensation. You reached your own precipice, teetering on the edge of oblivion. Separating your face from her neck, you dropped down, latching onto one of her swollen nipples with your mouth, biting down hard just as you slammed your cock deep, deep inside her canal.

Spurt after spurt of scalding semen erupted inside Somi's pussy, filling her with your forbidden seed. She cried out, a muffled sound as she gripped your hair, pressing your face harder into her boob, her fingers tangling in your locks. You huffed against the soft mound of her breast, every muscle in your body clenched tight, riding the peak of your orgasm. Slowly, languidly, you rolled your hips, prolonging the blissful, taboo-laden experience as your cum continued to pulse inside her.

The aftermath of your release hangs heavy in the air, thick with the scent of sex. You pull back from your older sister, the squelch of your dick leaving her wet depths echoing in the sudden silence that descends now that your ragged breaths are slowing. You shift back onto the plush cushions of your worn-out couch, the withdrawal making your cock feel strangely cold against the air.

A thick glob of your cum oozes from her folds, a pearly trail tracing a path downwards, a rivulet heading towards the shadowed cleft of her untouched asshole. Somi is completely still, lost in the deep abyss of drunken slumber. Her head lolls to the side, cheek pressed against the couch fabric, her breathing shallow and even. Naked and vulnerable, she's laid out, a tableau of post-coital abandon.

A question claws at the edge of your consciousness – will she even remember any of this tomorrow? The thought flits through your mind, quickly followed by a surge of guilt and a thrill of illicit excitement. You’re breathing hard, chest heaving, your gaze fixed on her unconscious form. The soft rise and fall of her chest is mesmerizing, the curve of her body smooth and inviting in the dim light filtering through the blinds.

Then, the weight of reality crashes down on you, solid and undeniable. This happened. You actually went there. You fucked your sister. And not just a quick fumble, but a full-blown, unprotected creampie situation in her womb. There's no erasing it, no taking it back.

A low chuckle wheezes up from your throat, tinged with disbelief. "Fucking crazy," you mutter under your breath. You lean closer to Somi, a whisper inches from her ear. "You liked that, didn't you? You enjoyed that as much as I did, right?" Silence is her only reply, her peaceful slumber undisturbed by your whispered question.

Even in the aftermath, even with the dampness cooling on your skin, your cock refuses to fully submit. It throbs with a semi-erection, a persistent reminder of the pleasure you just experienced, and a blatant demand for more. Her nakedness, the lingering scent of her arousal, it’s all too potent. You can't deny the pull, the urge to dive back in.

Carefully, you slide off the couch, your bare feet padding softly on the worn carpet. You reach for Somi, gently looping her arm around your neck, her limp weighing on you. Then, you bend down, slipping your other arm under her knees, scooping her up in a bridal carry. She’s heavier than you expected, loose and pliant in your arms. You carry her through the narrow hallway to the spare room, the one you usually leave empty for nothing in particular it seems, until now. You reach the bed, a simple mattress on a frame, and gently toss her onto it.

A soft groan escapes her lips as she lands, rolling onto her side, facing away from you. You climb onto the bed beside her, the mattress dipping under your weight. With a hand on her hip, you turn her back towards you, then gently lift her up onto her knees, her ass rising invitingly in the air. Her upper body, still heavy with sleep, falls forward onto the mattress, her breasts spilling out, nipples brushing against the sheet.

You kneel behind her, your own cock stirring with renewed vigor, the sight of her presented ass sending a jolt of lust through you. You press yourself against her, rubbing your semi-hard cock against her wet entrance, feeling it thicken and lengthen with each passing second.

“You shouldn’t have gotten so drunk and come here, Somi,” you murmur into her hair, the words more for yourself than her. “You know that, right?” You nip at the nape of her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. “And you know you liked getting fucked by your brother. Don’t even try to deny it.” Your voice is filled with the need to possess her. “One round isn’t going to cut it, sis. Not after this. I’m going to fuck you until my cock is sore and limp. Until you wake up and realize what we did.”

Consequences be damned. You’ll deal with the fallout, the inevitable chaos, when it comes. Right now, all that matters is this moment, this chance to feast on your older sister, to brand her with your mark until she’s fully sober and forced to confront the reality of what’s happening.

With that thought burning in your mind, you grind yourself against her hips, and thrust forward, penetrating her slick pussy from behind, driving yourself deep, right to the hilt. Somi lets out a muffled gasp, a sound that could be pleasure, could be protest, lost in the moment as you begin to move.

[lowkeyren]

—childhood sweetheart!

in which : as kids, you gave him a lollipop to thank him for his help, though you had no idea your kind gesture would spark a blossoming friendship —that would soon evolve into something far sweeter than candy.

pairing : alhaitham x gn!reader

wc 3.6k, childhood friends to (implied) lovers, one bittersweet scene but it's 99% tooth rotting fluff, kaveh n sumeru gang cameo!!, art by @/anno_meiji on x. reblogs r much appreciated!!!

@tragedy-of-commons @iceunhie fellow pissoners that told me to @ them + special thanks to beloved @synqiri for giving me ideas when i wrote this, salutations.

the house of daena was quiet, the air thick with the comforting scent of old books and polished wood; soft chatters among akademiya students drifted through the air, a gentle hum that mingled with the rustling of pages as scholars immersed themselves in their studies. 

at a corner, you sat cross-legged, surrounded by volumes of scholarly tomes. yet, the real challenge before you  wasn’t the big words or thick pages —but a far more irritating one: your shoelaces.

no matter how many times you tried, the laces refused to cooperate. they twisted and knotted themselves in ways that made you feel as if they had a mind of their own. you tugged at them over and over again, your small hands growing clumsy with frustration, making your struggle feel even more monumental. 

you let out a small, exasperated sigh, your cheeks growing warm with the mounting irritation. who lets a five-year-old wear shoes with laces anyway?

a few feet away, sitting at a low table, was a boy a few years older than you, absorbed in a thick book that looked far too advanced for his age; the dense text and intricate diagrams didn’t seem to faze him at all. his expression remained one of calm detachment, his eyes moving over the pages meticulously. though even amidst his immersion in the book's complex diagrams and equations, your struggle still drew his attention.

with a sigh that sounded more out of obligation than concern, he set his book aside with precise care and approached you with a smooth, deliberate stride. his expression remained neutral, his eyes barely meeting yours as he knelt beside you.

“you’re having trouble with your laces,” he remarked, his tone even and matter-of-fact.

you looked up and nodded at the boy, relief evident in your eyes. “can you help me?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly with embarrassment.

without a word, he reached for your laces. you watched as he deftly untangled the mess you’d created, his movements precise and unhurried. with a few twists and loops, he had the laces neatly tied in no time. “there,” he said, standing up and brushing his hands off. 

“thank you for helping me... um—” 

“alhaitham,” the boy, who you now knew as alhaitham, spoke in a calm voice.

you smiled in return, relieved. “thank you, alhaitham.”

“it was nothing. i’m glad i could assist.” he said before glancing down at your shoelaces again, his tone as impersonal as ever. 

you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small, brightly wrapped lollipop, its cheerful wrapping seemed almost too vibrant for his reserved demeanour. nevertheless, you held it out to him, “i want to give you this,” you said earnestly. “as a small token of my appreciation!”

he glanced at the lollipop, then back at you. you simply tilted your head in response. after a brief moment, he accepted it with a slight nod. “thanks,” he said simply before pocketing the sweet.

you smiled, “i’m [name], by the way.”

“i’ll remember that,” he replied, his tone softening slightly. 

with that, you gathered your books, carefully stacking them in your arms as you rose to your feet. “i need to go now. see you around, alhaitham!” you grinned and gave a small wave before turning to leave, your footsteps growing faint as you walked away.

and though little-you didn’t know it at the time, that small act of kindness, wrapped in bright paper, would linger in his memory for years to come.

years passed. by now, it was clear that alhaitham was a prodigy, the sharpest of minds among those his age —a teenager admired by many, regardless of age. yet, such exceptional talent often attracts a level of jealousy that goes beyond mere admiration.

however, much like his aloof demeanour, he remained indifferent to the opinions and whispers of displeasure of others, even now, as he stood surrounded by students, their voices dripping with sarcasm and disdain.

"so, alhaitham," one of them jeered, "being a genius must be lonely, huh? too smart to have any real friends?" the others snickered along, clearly revelling in his deliberate silence. they envied the recognition and success he had achieved —things they could only dream of, and that envy fueled their petty desire to bring him down, even if only for a fleeting moment.

enough was enough. 

“hey, give it a rest,” you interjected, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “oh, wait —it’s not like you have anything better to do than make fun of someone who’s actually achieved something, right?”

the laughter from the group began to die down as they turned their attention to you, the tension in the air thickening. 

you tilted your head in feigned curiosity. “or is it the only thing you’re good at?”

the student’s face twisted into a scowl, clearly caught off guard by your retort. after a moment of fumbling for words, he muttered defensively, “whatever. like you’re so perfect yourself.”

you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. “seriously? that’s the best you’ve got?” 

you met their gazes with a defiant smirk, enjoying the way their bravado faltered under your words. “it’s one thing to have nothing between those ears of yours, but there’s no need to be a jerk about it.”

they hesitated for a moment, stung by your remarks and clearly feeling their egos take a hit, they found themselves at a loss for words. finally, one of them muttered something under his breath before they all turned and slunk away, embarrassed.

as the last of their footsteps faded, you turned back to alhaitham, who was watching you with a slightly raised eyebrow. "you didn’t have to do that," he murmured. you shrugged, offering him a wry smile. "i know. but i wanted to.”

“besides, someone has to keep those idiots in check."

alhaitham regarded you for a moment longer before the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "thank you.” you caught the subtle shift in his expression, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. it was rare to see him react this way, and it made your small victory feel all the more rewarding.

you couldn’t help but grin. 

“—you smiled!”  giggling, you leaned in closer to him, as if sharing a secret. “i didn’t think i’d ever see that day.”

“no, i did not.” his expression snapped back to its usual deadpan, as if his momentary lapse had never happened.

“no? well, then you should smile more.” you slid into the chair next to him, 

“why?” 

you pulled out your book and opened it to the page marked by your bookmark. “you look good when you smile,” you said casually, your eyes still focused on the material in front of you as you unwrapped a candy and chewed on it, savouring the sweet taste.

alhaitham didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed intently on the pages in front of him. though when he briefly turned his head to the side, his stoic expression faltered.

a faint smile tugged at the edges of his lips; he angled the book slightly higher, hiding his expression from view, while the subtle curve of his lips remained just barely visible.

it was a fleeting moment —nearly imperceptible, but unmistakably there.

“happy birthday, [name]!” 

you clink your glass with dehya’s, the sound of the toast ringing out amidst the lively chatter. she grins and downs her drink in one swift motion, her laughter echoing as the others join in, raising their glasses to you. 

nilou approaches you with a soft smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “i have something for you,” she says, holding out a small, intricately wrapped box. you open it to find a delicate bracelet nestled inside. 

“i hope today brings you as much joy as you bring to us.” you smile and thank her as she helps you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. 

you glance over to where alhaitham is sitting, only to find him already looking at you; he gives you a slight nod before burying his face back into his book. though you notice that alhaitham's usual noise-cancelling headphones are conspicuously absent, as if choosing to be fully present, especially when you're near.

suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re greeted with kaveh’s unmistakable grin, “surprise!” he exclaims with a flourish, his voice brimming with infectious enthusiasm. he extends a beautifully hand-carved, ornate wooden box to you, “go on, open it!” he urges, barely containing his excitement.

with a nod, you carefully lift the lid, revealing the contents inside. the box is lined with rich velvet, and nestled within is a tiny, intricately designed music box and a set of miniature sculptures —as expected, his craftsmanship is nothing short of impeccable. you thank him graciously and carefully set the box down on the table beside tighnari’s gift. 

as the evening unfolds, you notice alhaitham occasionally glancing up from his book, his gaze fixing on you, each glance subtly drawing your attention. his eyes, typically so absorbed in the pages, now linger on you with a soft intensity that speaks volumes.

it’s obvious that the night has come to an end when you glance to your side and can’t help but chuckle at the sight of kaveh, completely blackout drunk and slumped over the couch. 

“don’t worry, we’ll handle him,” cyno heads for the door after lifting kaveh over his shoulder with ease; he shares a knowing glance with tighnari. “enjoy the rest of your night!” with a final wave, they disappear out the door, leaving you and alhaitham alone in the cozy tranquillity of your home. 

“looks like it’s just us now,” you say, sinking onto the sofa beside him and stifling a yawn, the night clearly taking a toll on you.

“indeed,” alhaitham replies, his gaze softening as he looks over at you. he reaches behind him and holds his hand out towards you with his fist closed.

“here, a reward for your hard work,” he opens his palm to reveal a small piece of your favourite candy resting on it. “happy birthday, [name].”

the light from the candles flickers softly, casting a warm glow that dances across the room. it bathes the space in a gentle radiance, highlighting the perfect angles of his face and making him look all the more handsome.

alhaitham had never been a big fan of sweets. to him, they were a trivial indulgence, neither particularly enticing nor off-putting. 

but for you, he might learn to like it more. 

after all, if all it takes is a piece of candy to see your smile —sweeter than any treat known to mankind, then maybe there's a reason to enjoy them after all.

as you begin to nod off, he gently strokes your hair and carefully adjusts your position, guiding your head to rest on his chest.

with a soft sigh, he blows out the candles. 

perhaps rationality has its limits when it comes to matters of the heart, for he can’t help but feel that love, in all its irrationality, defies the logic he clings to so fiercely. “love” didn’t follow the neat, predictable patterns of reason —it was wild, unpredictable, and utterly beyond his control. 

yet, despite its chaos, or perhaps because of it, he was okay with it —he was okay with you.

“is it necessary for you to leave?” 

“sorry haitham, it's for my research. but i’ll be gone for just a few years, and we'll cross paths again before you know it.” 

just a few.. years? you must’ve really underestimated how long that’ll feel. he lets out a disapproving huff, his brows knitting together. “...where will you be going?”

“fontaine,” you replied, “the leylines there hold the key to my research, and it’s an opportunity i can’t pass up.” you hesitate for a moment before adding softly, “i wish you could come along… but with your duties as the acting grand sage, i understand that it’s not possible.”

“i suppose you’ve already made up your mind.”

you nodded, trying to muster a reassuring smile. “i have. but i’ll make sure to write whenever i can!” he studies your face for a long moment, as if committing every detail to memory, afraid he’ll forget the moment you turn your back to him. 

“just... promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he finally said, his tone more tender compared to a moment ago. “and don’t lose yourself in your research.”

you reach out, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “i promise, haitham.” you open his palm and place a small candy in the centre before closing his fingers around it. “something to remember me by,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper as you look up at him.

his eyes trail your figure, his hands clutching the candy tightly, the wrapping paper crinkling in his fist as you start to walk away. midway, you pause, turning around to look at him once more, you flash him a warm smile before waving goodbye.

this time, unlike the first time you met, he returns the gesture with a wave of his own.

it’s unusual, uncharacteristic for alhaitham to lose his focus so easily. 

the subtle crease in his brow —a dead giveaway to anyone who knew him well; and being his roommate, kaveh noticed it first.

leaning against the table, he glanced at the open book, then back at alhaitham. "you know, that page won’t read itself," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

alhaitham didn’t bother looking up, his finger idly tracing the edge of the page. "i’m well aware." after a moment, he finally turned the page with a slight frown, his mind clearly not on the book.

cyno, sitting across from him, folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. "you’ve been staring at that same paragraph for nearly an hour.” he remarks, his tone laced with amusement. tighnari raises his eyebrows, lightly swirling the drink in his cup, “it’s rare to see you this distracted. must be something—or someone—truly exceptional."

alhaitham finally looks up, meeting their gazes with a flat expression, “you all certainly have a lot of free time," he remarked dryly.

cyno shrugs, shaking his head. "you’re just making it too easy, alhaitham."

tighnari, however, leans forward slightly, his gaze softening with genuine concern despite the playful edge in his voice just a minute ago. “but seriously,” he adds, “it’s perfectly fine to admit you miss [name]. we all do, after all, it has been a year.”

alhaitham sighs heavily, closing the book with a soft thud. “i’m perfectly fine."

"sure you are," kaveh drawls, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "it’s not like you’ve been more irritable than usual —or, i don’t know, distracted by a certain someone who’s not here."

for once, alhaitham doesn’t offer a retort. instead, he quietly unwraps a candy and slips it into his mouth, letting its sweet taste wash over him.

but that is all the answer they need. 

unbothered from the looks he receives from his friends, he signals the manager over, “boss, a box of macaroons to go, please.” 

later that night, alhaitham sits in his room —he absently reaches for the box of macaroons but his hand lands on the bright candy wrapper crumpled on the table, though it seems out of place amidst the quiet room, it remains a perfect, poignant reminder of you, in his heart.

the notion of your sweetness is tantalising, one that mingles with the lingering taste of the macaroons on his palate, making him yearn for the real experience, to discover if you, too, could leave such a lasting impression.

—and truth to be told, i really missed you too. there's so much more i want to share with you, so many things i’ve seen and felt that only you would truly understand. but lucky for us, i’ll be at l'encre des marées in the court of fontaine, for the next few days!  haitham, come visit me, will you?

alhaitham’s footsteps echo softly against the cobblestone street as he approaches the address you gave him.

a bookstore, huh. it seems fitting enough.

he folds your letter and slips it into the pocket of his coat; the gentle chime of the bell above the door announces his arrival. the warm, ambient light of the store envelops him —a voice rings out, welcoming him, but he pays it no mind.

he moves silently between the tall bookshelves, his gaze sweeping over the interior, searching for you within the labyrinth of aisles. though with no sign of you in sight, a faint crease forms between his brows, a subtle yet telling sign of his disappointment.

he comes to a stop in front of one of the shelves, the familiar scent of paper and ink wafting around him. might as well get something, he thinks. his hand hovers over the spines, his fingers brushing lightly against them; the choice is almost arbitrary, driven more by habit than intent. 

the title barely registers in his mind as he turns away from the shelf. with the book in hand, he makes his way towards the counter. he places the book down with a soft thud, and lets his mind drift to you —your latest letter, the anticipation of seeing you here, the subtle disappointment of your absence; he imagines the sound of your voice, the way you might have greeted him had you been there, the little gestures that are make you, so distinctly, you. 

the cashier’s voice pulls him back to the present. “thank you for your patronage!” the words are accompanied by the soft rustling of paper as the bag is handed over to him. he reaches out to take it, but just as he’s about to withdraw his hand, something else is pressed into his palm —a small lollipop.

he blinks, momentarily caught off guard. what? is this a… fontaine custom? he turns the lollipop over in his hand, the cashier’s voice continues, cheerful and slightly sing-song. “don’t forget to visit us again—”

or is he losing his mind? because the sound of your voice, so clear and familiar, “—alhaitham.” echoes his name as if you were standing right infront of him.

his eyes snap up, eyes widening ever so slightly as he looks at the cashier. and there you are, behind the counter, your gaze meeting his with a familiar warmth. he finds himself staring at you, the very person he had been hoping to see; you smile at him, the same smile he had imagined countless times... and his heart still skips a beat.

“life here in fontaine has been quite a journey.” you stroll side by side, alhaitham listens quietly, absorbing every detail as you recount your journey. your research, originally projected to take more time, has progressed exceptionally well; the results are promising, and you’re now ahead of schedule, which means that you’ll be back in sumeru in less than a week’s time (much to his pleasure).

as you both turn a corner, you suddenly stop and turn to face him. “i’ve been doing all the talking so far,” you smile up at him, “what about you?”

“nothing much, things have been…” he begins, pausing as he searches for the right words. he glances around, just as street lamps flicker to life before continuing, “...rather routine.”

(he’s not lying, no, never to you. “routine” as in routinely thinking about you nonstop —yes, that’s the underlying meaning, though his outward implication is quite… mundane.)

though what you didn’t quite expect next was for alhaitham to extend his hand towards you, his pinky raised in a gesture like an earnest request for a pinky promise. dumbfounded, you chuckle softly, “what’s this for?” 

without waiting for an answer, you decide to indulge him, linking your pinky with his. as your thumbs briefly touch, you catch the look in his eyes —serious, yet with a softness that makes your heart skip. “a promise that i’ll be by your side as long as sugar tastes sweet,” he says, his voice low and sincere.

he gently turns his hand downward, his fingers sliding smoothly between yours, interlocking them in a firm yet tender grip. slowly, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of it. “so, come back with me, [name].”

his thumb continues to trace lazy circles on your skin, drawing you closer. leaning in, his breath is warm against your cheek, the space between you vanishes as he tilts his head slightly, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours, close enough that you can almost taste the promise in his words. 

his eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up. you catch his gaze and a small smile starts to form, “you don’t have to ask me twice.”

your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush softly against yours —and he tastes the first bite of a sun-warmed strawberry, a burst of sweetness that lingers on his lips, leaving him craving more. utterly intoxicating, like the scent of honey carried on a warm breeze, filling the air with a fragrance that makes him close his eyes and breathe deeply, savouring the moment.

you taste just like summer —vivid, unforgettable, and leaving him yearning for those endless days and nights, where his world is alive with sparking memories he clings to as the seasons change; so much so that even when autumn's chill begins to settle, he can't help but reach out for the warmth that only your presence can bring.

but most importantly,

you taste unbelievably sweet.

good question google

MASTERLIST.

[tbaluver]

New Years Kisses- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader summary: spend the night of new years eve with your lover a/n: hihi lovelies! i apologize if this does nawt make sense and if it's cheesy af..i wanted to make something for the end of the year and end the year with something romantical (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ happy new years to everyone ! hoping this year is filled with more happiness and luv ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و ♡

divider creds, @/ strangergraphics any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

��｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Neither of you wanted to be in the crowded city where people rush to find the best spot for the fireworks. The noise and the chaos of the crowd did not feel like the right place to end the year together. Instead, you both seek refuge in the park where luckily not a lot of people had the same idea. 

Xavier helps you spread the picnic blanket across the soft grass before you settle down beside each other. He'd drape an extra blanket over the two of you as you nestle closer into him while you both wait together as the minutes pass by slowly.

While you wait, he'd entertain you with his evol. Tiny orbs of light flickered in the air as if they were fireflies floating around the two of you.

As time passed, the distant sound of fireworks began to stir in the air. One by one different variations of colors and shapes fill the sky, the fireflies around you both disappearing under the vibrant lights above you.

Clicking your phone open to find out just one more minute to new years, another year with your lover. You rest your forehead against his until the seconds strike to midnight. His lips finally meeting yours softly, the warmth of your lips enveloping his.

May our days ahead be as bright and beautiful as this moment with you.

Zayne:

Zayne has never been the type to go to parties. He often rejects his colleagues' invitations without hesitation and with some kind of excuse. But things had changed ever since you came into his life, for the better of course. Ever since you two started dating, he’d start showing up to gatherings to his colleagues' surprise.

They had never seen him smile so often whenever you dropped by to bring him lunch or to simply just have a chat with him or how he would actually go home on time just to be with you. They were even more surprised to see him attend the New Year’s party they hosted but they couldn’t hide their happiness for both of you to be there.

At the snack bar, Zayne chats with Greyson, nibbling on macarons while Greyson follows your warning and makes sure that he doesn’t dare sip any sweet alcoholic drink. You were across the room, chatting with Yvonne and with some of the other nurses but his eyes kept flicking over to you as you talked. Your gaze met, a small smile curled up at the corner of his lips as you excuse yourself from the conversation to approach him. Greyson takes the sign, excuses himself and leaves you two alone.

“Would you like to come outside?” At first you wondered if he wasn’t feeling well but there was something in his eyes that made you think something else.

The venue was large and the garden outside was stunning. It reminded you of the garden he plans to have with you once he has the time to nurture it. “We’ll miss the fireworks Zayne,” you pouted, turning around to look back at the crowd disappearing behind you as you both wandered deeper into the garden.

3 2 1 happy new year! the countdown of the crowd echoes far behind you two.

He softly chuckles, making sure to stop at the spot where your favorite flowers bloomed. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his gaze locked with yours as he gently cups your cheek. He leans down, capturing your soft lips with his as the fireworks pops in the background.

May our love continue to grow for all the years to come

Rafayel:

New Year's Eve had become a bore all thanks to Thomas, who ruined both of your plans by setting up Rafayel for an event that was known to be one of the biggest one of the year. It was filled with celebrities, critics, and most importantly buyers. Neither of you wanted to be there. Endless parade of people continue to talk to him about his latest artwork or ask him about his future plans. It was all too much. He just wanted to be with you.

You spent the whole night separated as the crowd pulled him away again and again. But when Rafayel finally manages to escape from the recent group, he grabs your hand and you both slip away from the event, laughing as you run down the street. 

Rafayel leads the way, your hand firmly in his, the scent of the beach drifting you both with each step. His tie hung loosely around his neck and a few of his buttons were undone. The cool night air brushed against your skin as laughter bubbles between the two of you.

As you reach a secluded part of the beach, far away from the noise and chaos, Rafayel turns to you, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. He lifts you off the ground effortlessly, spinning you around, your foreheads touching.

He leans in closer, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek. His lips brushed against yours softly, “One for the past,” he murmurs. Before you can react, he leans back in again, fireworks exploding in the distance. “And one for the present,” he whispers against your lips.

For all the years we have ahead, may they be as sweet as tonight.

Sylus:

The N109 zone was apparently coming down with hard fog so no fireworks can be seen during the night. Luckily Sylus had no plans during the new years but however he is not being caught down in the city in Linkon with that crowd, making him clutch his pearls.

With just an easy pick of the lock using his evol, you two were found in one of the highest buildings to have the best view of the fireworks, just the two of you alone. You two draw small figures in the snow until some fireworks exploded early.

Little did you know he had some shapes of fireworks planned out for you. One a crow and one a dove that symbolized you two both and he couldn’t help but softly chuckly seeing your awe expression as the bright colors reflect in your eyes.

“it’s so pretty sy!”

“it sure is.” he says not leaving his eyes on you.

As the voices below began to countdown the final seconds to midnight, the air between you two thickened with anticipation. Without a word you leaned in closer, your faces drawing together. The final seconds to the new year ticked away as Sylus’s lips meet yours, his hand sliding to the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

To an eternity of happiness with you

[cedarmoonzz]

between the bars •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

followed by: once more to see you and slow like honey

fandom: gravity falls

ship: ford pines x reader

warnings: brief mention of boners, making out, angst

summary:

being engaged to the world’s smartest idiot feels like navigating a storm while he’s engrossed in his portal research. you wonder if there’s anything you can do to help him.

Three months.

Ninety-one sleepless, tormented days. 

That’s how long you’ve watched Ford, once so full of life, become a shell of himself.

Each day seems to blend into the next, weighed down by the crushing demands of his portal. His bright eyes have lost their spark, replaced by a weary, distant look that suggests he is fighting a constant battle with exhaustion. He’s always buried in his research, disappearing into a maze of endless calculations and theories, only coming up to ask for coffee, food, or help with his measurements. Each interaction is a reminder of the distance that has grown between you, making you ache for the vibrant person he is beneath all the work. It allows you to realize something.

Stanford is an incredibly stubborn man.

You count your breaths, letting the full force of Ford’s distance fill you. Once a day, only in the evening, you allow yourself to feel abandoned, lost, and alone—but only here, only in the evening, before Stanford trudges upstairs for his third pot of coffee. Afterwards, you must set these feelings aside, for there is still so much work to be done, so much still at stake.

Stanford lets you handle all the paper calculations and complex math for the portal, trusting you with the intricate details crucial to his project. Yet, despite your role, he keeps you from seeing the fruits of your labor. You are barred from the basement, the place where the results of your hard work come to life. This exclusion only deepens your sense of isolation and frustration, as you toil endlessly without ever truly understanding the impact of your efforts. The distance between what you contribute and what you’re allowed to see only reinforces the feeling of being a cog in a machine, valued for your skills but denied any real connection to the end result.

Beyond the kitchen door, you can hear your lab mates arguing. The last light of day was leaking through the fissures of the window shutters, changing shape as they paced outside, their shadows stretching to where you sit, hidden, not yet prepared to face them. Though you could not make out their words, you could detect the urgency in their voices. You pressed your palms against your eyes and sighed, then rolled up the loose sleeves of Stanford’s (now your) sweater.

With a harsh, abrupt grunt, akin to the percussive crack of a twig beneath a boot, your fiancé wrenched the splintered door open, slamming it shut with a resounding thud. You were jolted from your thoughts, having been lost in your own reverie as the unexpected noise shattered your concentration. As he stood there, his face etched with a mixture of anger and exhaustion, you could see the deep lines of fatigue and frustration carved into his features. He muttered a stream of incoherent curses under his breath, his visible irritation and weariness painting a stark picture of his emotional state.

Softly, you encouraged him. “Ford, what is it?”

He didn’t answer; he only stood, looking at you as if he might scream.

“It’s Fiddleford!” Stanford growled. “He’s speaking nonsense! Trying to propose that only bad can come from the portal we spent months on! Your calculations, my handiwork and experience? All down the drain because McGucket is scared? It’s ridiculous! I should’ve never trusted him. It seems I can trust no one with my work these days!”

His words caught you between places: you stare down at the ring that graced your finger, the tea kettle whistling, trails of steam emitting behind you, leaving you in between your selves.

“No one?” you repeat, but did not elaborate further. You did not want to be cruel to him, but now that he had insulted you (now, of all times, when you were working so hard to understand him), it was difficult to resist lashing out at him.

Ford paused, words caught between his teeth as you stood in silence. “[Y/n]… my love.” Regret crept into his voice, daring to color his words with a warmth you were sure was genuine—but rather than comfort, it only wounded you. “Of course I can trust you. This portal… It wouldn’t be possible without your work.”

It broke you—or broke what feeble grip you had on yourself, the reserves of strength you used to keep your grief and despair in check all spent.

“My work,” you spat out, almost hissing the words through clenched teeth. You threw the kettle off the stove and pivoted to confront him, closing the distance between you with two broad, angry strides. Pointing a finger at him, you seethed, “Is that all the trust you have? Just your precious portal? Ford, when was the last time you actually talked to me? I can't deal with this anymore! I followed you all the way to Gravity Falls, to the middle of nowhere, and you barely let me see the full scope of my work. Always holed up in the basement.”

Your palm remains red from the heat of the kettle’s handle, but that does not burn as bad as the heat of your fiancé’s abandonment. And still, stupidly, in spite of it all, you wanted to trust Ford. To believe that there was a reason, an explanation for all the half-truths and deceptions. You want to protect him. You want your answers. You want to see him: not a passing nod of acknowledgment, or a pat on the back as you walk past him, or a fragment of him in a dream, but his skin in the flesh, and you loathe yourself for how badly you want it… but you turn that loathing outward, funneling it through the anger, and set the air around you crackling with fury.

As you glared at him, a profound sense of abandonment and worthlessness enveloped you like a shroud. It felt as though you had been reduced to nothing more than a glorified calculator in Ford’s eyes—a mere instrument, a cog in the vast machinery of his ambitions, used and discarded with no regard for your own significance. The weight of your perceived insignificance bore down on you, each moment in his shadow a reminder of how fleeting and unimportant your role had become. The very essence of your being seemed to diminish with every unacknowledged contribution, leaving you to wrestle with the crushing realization that your efforts and sacrifices had been eclipsed by his relentless pursuit, barely noted and even less appreciated.

Stanford’s eyes met yours, narrowing ever so slightly as he took in the gravity of the moment. He measured the tension between you, a flicker of regret crossing his features as he struggled to comprehend the full extent of your pain. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken remorse, before he finally cleared his throat, his voice betraying a hint of sorrow for the hurt he had caused and the realization of how far he had let things go.

“I'm sorry, [Y/n].” Stanford reached out to hold your waist—and did you imagine it, or did you lean into that touch, pressing your body to the warmth of his open palms? You swallowed. Softly, he asked you, “Do you want me to go?”

You shook your head, more as an excuse to look away from him than anything—now that you had reprimanded him, you realized just how close he was, and your hair fell in front of your eyes, offering you a moment of reprieve. It was difficult having him so near; when your rage subsided, you were left with a profound sense of abandonment and a wounded heart. In a voice tinged with desperation and hurt, you asked, “Why can’t you just let me help you, Ford?”

As the words left your lips, you found yourself instinctively moving closer, your breath mingling with his. The proximity heightened the tension between you, the unspoken emotions crackling in the air. Your lips nearly brushed his as you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice blending with an undeniable, charged intimacy.

“[Y/n],” he begs, but he keeps his hands around your waist. “It’s dangerous…” But even as he speaks, his head is falling towards yours, his mouth ajar and questing, breath ragged.

You lift your hand from the collar of Stanford’s lab coat to hold his face, running your thumb tenderly over the stubble that graced his sharp jawline.

“I’m just as capable as Fiddleford,” you whisper, only inches between you now, so close that you can feel his breath on your neck as you speak the words. “Let me prove myself to you.”

Ford shudders. When his eyes meet yours again, they read something within them—perhaps some hidden fate or doom—and then, he remains. He holds you in his eyes like he is weighing you, or trying to carry a piece of you away with him. With a weary sigh, he lifts his hands to frame your face instead, tracing your cheek with his thumb. He leans forward—you dare not breathe—and presses his lips to your brow, just below the line of your hair. You can feel the soft warmth of his breath against the top of your head. Your eyes sting with tears; you will your body not to shake.

“I know you’re incredibly intelligent, but what Fiddleford saw in that portal… it ruined him. I don’t want the same fate for you.” He pleads, raising a hand of his own as if to pry yours from his face, but it trembles instead, then covers yours, holding the warmth of your palm to his cheek. “It is not that simple.”

“It can be,” you insist, as you lower your other hand to rest above his frantic, pounding heart. “It is.”

The space between the two of you is shrinking before you know whether you or Ford had moved first. Then your palm was carding through the tangled brown hair at the back of his head, drawing him closer as you kiss. When your mouths first met, Ford flinched, as though he might retreat… but he parted his lips for you, and your knees weaken at the taste of his tongue. You clutched his lab coat; his hands danced across your waist to the small of your back and held you against him. His heat rose against you; you could feel him through his slacks, insistent against your thigh—

“I’m sorry,” Stanford whispers, his lips brushing against yours before he pulls away. He turns abruptly and exits the room. Without another word, he heads straight for the basement, leaving you standing there, your heart aching with the weight of unsaid confessions and unfulfilled desires. The intensity of the moment lingers in the air, a palpable reminder of the emotional distance that remains between you.

The way he looked at you was too much; so much unspoken between the two of you, so much you wish to tell him, confess to him: how he always makes you feel safe. That this whole research project, the calculations and all, had only ever been bearable because he had let you be by his side. That his presence is more valuable to you than anything; that you had treasured every moment spent with him. That you’re worried for him.

That you felt like he was in danger, and you were running out of time.

[mybelovedwoo]

kisses with ateez - headcanon

what type of kissers would ateez be

headcanon, romance, fluff

gn!reader x bf!atz

wc. ~ 0.9k

an: you can request headcanons if you want to!! if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here !!

masterlist

hongjoong: romantic and passionate kisser

-hongjoong is highly attuned to the emotional state of his partner. he can sense when to be tender and when to be more intense, creating a balanced and deeply fulfilling kiss

-he starts his kisses softly and slowly, allowing you both to savor the initial connection. his lips brush against yours gently, almost teasingly, before gradually deepening the kiss

-as the kiss progresses, hongjoong's passion becomes more evident. he knows how to build intensity, drawing you closer and making each moment more electrifying. his hands might gently cradle your face or slide around your waist, pulling you closer

-his kisses are not just about physical touch, they are expressive of his feelings

-while he often maintains a romantic demeanor, he occasionally surprises you with playful pecks and teasing nibbles

-eye contact is a significant part of his kissing style

seonghwa: tender and sensual kisser

-seonghwa approaches kissing with a gentle and caring touch. he starts softly, ensuring that you feel comfortable and cherished from the very beginning. his kisses are like a warm embrace, tender and reassuring

-he takes his time, savoring each moment. seonghwa believes in the art of slow kissing, letting the connection build gradually

-his hands are always gentle, whether they are caressing your face, softly brushing your hair, or resting on the small of your back

-he is highly aware of the sensory experience. he might softly hum or sigh, creating a multi-sensory experience 

-while his kisses are gentle, they are also emotionally intense

-he prefers intimate and serene settings for kissing, such as a quiet evening at home or under the stars

-he might rest his forehead against yours, hold your gaze, or gently touch your face

yunho: playful and passionate kisser

-yunho brings a vibrant energy to his kisses. his enthusiasm is contagious, making every kiss feel lively and exciting. he often approaches with a bright smile before leaning in, creating a sense of anticipation

-he loves to keep things interesting by being spontaneous. he might surprise you with a kiss out of nowhere, whether you're in the middle of a conversation or cooking together

-he enjoys teasing you with quick pecks, playful nibbles, or gentle bites, followed by a more intense and passionate kiss

-his kisses are confident and assertive, making you feel secure and desired. he often holds you firmly, either wrapping his arms around you or holding your face

-he likes to engage all your senses during a kiss. he might gently stroke your back or whisper sweet words

yeosang: gentle and thoughtful kisser

-yeosang may initially be a bit shy when it comes to kissing, approaching you with a gentle, almost tentative touch

-his kisses are soft and delicate, almost feather-like. he takes time, savoring each moment and ensuring that every kiss is meaningful and tender

-yeosang is very attentive to your reactions. he carefully watches your responses and adjusts his kissing style to match your comfort and preferences

-his kisses have a warmth that makes you feel safe and loved, he holds you gently, his touch reassuring and comforting

-he believes in the power of slow, meaningful kisses

-he whispers sweet words and compliments during or after the kiss. his voice is soft and soothing, making you feel even more connected to him

san: passionate and intense kisser

-san brings a fiery passion to his kisses. he kisses with an urgency and intensity that makes each moment feel electric. his kisses are deeply passionate, leaving you breathless and yearning for more

-san kisses with confidence, taking the lead and guiding the experience

-his kisses are highly expressive, conveying a wide range of emotions. whether he's showing love, desire, or affection, his kisses are a window into his heart and soul

-he enjoys mixing up his kissing style. he might start with slow, deep kisses, then switch to quick, playful pecks, and back again

-he involves his whole body in the kiss, he pulls you close, wraps his arms around you, or runs his hands through your hair

-before and after kissing, san's intense gaze can make your heart race

mingi: sensual and devoted kisser

-mingi kisses with a slow, sensual intensity. he takes his time, making sure every moment is filled with deep, lingering passion

-he pays close attention to the little details. he notices and responds to your every reaction

-his hands are gentle and tender while kissing

-mingi has a unique ability to combine gentleness with intensity. his kisses are soft and tender, yet they carry a powerful emotional charge

-after kissing he likes to maintain the connection. he rests his forehead against yours or shares a tender smile

wooyoung: playful and affectionate kisser

-wooyoung brings a lot of playfulness and joy into his kisses. he enjoys teasing you with quick pecks, playful nibbles, and unexpected kisses that catch you off guard, making you laugh and smile

-his kisses are often accompanied by his infectious laughter and bright smiles

-he loves to surprise you with spontaneous kisses, whether you're walking down the street or doing something mundane

-despite his playful nature, his kisses are also filled with warmth and affection

-he might be playful and teasing one moment, then shift to a more tender and passionate approach

jongho: gentle and sincere kisser

-jongho approaches kissing with a calm and composed demeanor. his kisses are steady and reassuring, making you feel safe and cherished

-he is very thoughtful and considerate when kissing

-he takes his time, making each kiss feel meaningful and heartfelt. his gentle touch is soothing and affectionate

-hi kisses are filled with affection and warmth. he makes you feel cherished and appreciated, using his kisses to express his deep care and love for you

-there's a depth to jongho's kisses that goes beyond the physical. he connects with you on an emotional level

-he prefers intimate moments for kissing, where you can both relax and enjoy each other's company without distractions. 

taglist: @dinossaurz @soso59love-blog

[ilovejoostklein]

heyy idk if you like ski aggu too but could you write a reader x ski aggu x joost fic with the reader being a rich, spoiled groupie who wants to hook up with them? tysm 💕

i love this omg.

-

I Want It All

You’re a rich, spoiled international student who wants nothing more but to meet your favorite musicians

nsfw: smut

-

You were bored, with too much money to know what to do with. You were an international student in Germany, spoiled rotten your parents hoped that being in a new country and acclimating yourself to a new environment would teach you some independence. In a way they were right, you’d come to this show completely alone, just telling your friends you’d done it spontaneously as a white lie. 

The truth is you’d planned to go to the concert for weeks in excruciating detail. Obsession was an understatement for what you felt for these two singers, Ski Aggu and Joost Klein. Your studies had bored you, school was always too easy thanks to your private school background and rigorous expectations set throughout your life, hard work came naturally to you and became more like a routine than a conscious effort. Spring was turning to summer, the heat, the flowers in full boom, vibrant green trees, and endless possibilities excited you to no end. You had your daddy’s money to waste, the world was like your playground and you’d become accustomed to getting what you wanted no matter what. 

You’d gotten tickets on a balcony to avoid getting overly crowded and to be under the bright lights for too long. You wanted to keep your distance from others, watching closely, singing along to some songs, and recording half the concert to have something to watch back on and show your friends. When the concert ended, you were probably the only one who wasn’t upset it was over.

You carefully snuck past the crowds and approached a security guard who was by the backstage area. After a bit of failed negotiation, it took slipping a few hundred euros into his hand you asked him if he could do you a favor and see if he could get you backstage. You embellished, saying that you were a huge fan and just wished that you could get a few of your CDs signed. It was partly true, you were a fan and had the CDs in your ridiculously expensive purse, but you had other intentions, or rather hopes. 

The security guard escorted you to the backstage area. It was quiet, the walls making the sound of the music that continued to play as people left muffled. All you could hear besides that was your footsteps and the heavier ones of the security guard, who was one of the tallest and scariest men you’d ever seen. It failed to intimidate you though, money always worked wonders to make a scary man sweeten up and tuck his tail between his legs. 

“What do you work as?” The man’s accent was a bit thick and he was forward, you noticed he was eyeing down your outfit

“My dad owns a company.” You answered with a smile, making the man chuckle and shake his head. “But I’m just a student.”

“You are wearing very expensive clothes, so forgive me.” He explained a bit apprehensively, worried he’d accidentally offend you, “Are you sure you just want CDs signed?”

You could tell he was asking as an offer, not over suspicion. You can see that he was willing to pull some strings for you, but you were confident you didn’t need extra help. You only smiled, nodding your head innocently before he led you to a door, knocking three times. You could hear the commotion coming to a halt, the loud conversation of two men, and the sound of a football match. 

“There’s a fan here for you.” The security guard announced loudly. “Very beautiful.” He winked. 

You felt your heart fall to your feet. It felt like an elevator crashing, dramatic and terrifying you stood there motionless as you saw your distorted reflection in the colorful glass the man across from you had. They were up on his forehead now, exposing his eyes that he’d kept hidden for the show. They were beautiful, murky blue like the middle of the ocean. 

“Sprichst du Deutsch?” He asked immediately, you shook your head a bit embarrassed. “Oh, so sad.” He frowned. 

You introduced yourself impulsively before asking your question, “I was wondering if you could sign some things for me.” You asked nervously, pulling out the CDs and a sharpie, one meant for Joost and one for himself. “Please.”

He hesitated for a bit, “Ja, sure.” He took his CD, signing it quickly. “Joost!” He called loudly out over his shoulder. 

Joost sat up from the couch, he had a cigarette between his fingers, grey smoke lingering around him. He looked better up close, taller than you’d expected, His eyes lingered on you, they weren’t invading or judgmental, but slightly confused. You didn’t speak and just gave him the CD just as nervously, watching as they scribbled their signatures. 

“You smoke?” Joost asked, as he handed you back the CD you felt his fingers graze yours. 

“No.” You felt that you were already disappointed, seeing his face make the same expression that Aggu’s had. “Sorry.” 

“Oh no, that’s good.” He suddenly smiled, stepping aside you felt your heart begin to race, blood rushing to your face and ears. “Do you want to come inside for a bit?”

You felt yourself enter almost a trance as you stepped inside the dressing room, smelling of expensive men’s cologne, pungent tobacco, and beer. You glanced over to see the security guard had since left, leaving you completely alone. You didn’t understand why you were so apprehensive now, regret creeping in confused you, after all, this is exactly what you wanted. 

“Did you come here all alone?” Joost asked, walking over to one of the couches and beckoning you over. 

“Yes.” You answered, smoothing down your skirt as you sat down, with both men at either side of you. The couch was warm and plush under your skin, you tried to relax by leaning back as you faced one of the handsome men seated next to you. “I got a ticket last minute.”

Joost smiled again, his eyes looking you up and down before settling on your purse. “You must be a rich girl.” He joked, “Are you studying here in Germany?”

You nodded, distracted by Aggu reaching over your thigh and putting a beer bottle in your lap. You winced at the coldness, holding it in your hands as he opened it for you and pushed it to your lips. 

“Here, you must drink if you don’t smoke?” Aggu asked, you felt his arm settle near your waist, his fingertips hardly touching your exposed skin. “It’s good, German beer.”

You hated beer, but you felt you were already starting on the wrong foot, making how spoiled you were too apparent. “I’ll try it.” You took a sip, grimacing a bit from the bitter, earthy flavor. “It’s fine.” You said when you realized they were anxiously waiting for your response. 

They chuckled, eyes fixated on you to the point it almost felt like you were naked. They looked down at your figure, wrapped away inexpensive, pristine clothing you looked completely out of place. They thought of their cheap CDs stuffed in your bag worth thousands, the blush on your cheeks, and mascara brushed on your lashes probably from luxury brands. They wondered why you of all people were at one of their shows. 

“You must have a boyfriend, no?” Aggu asked suddenly. “Why would he let you come here alone?”

You shook your head, and just like that a shared fantasy began to manifest itself. Aggu nodded with a strained smile, instinctively looking at Joost who was focused on his beer and crushing his cigarette, then at the door to tell him that he needed a moment of privacy. 

The two men excused themselves as politely as possible, saying that they wanted to go out to have a smoke instead of doing it rudely in front of you, but to help yourself to any more beers in the meantime. Joost shut the door quietly, leading Aggu to the closest exit. 

They stood outside, the night was a bit eerie, hardly any stars were visible as they were in the middle of Berlin, nothing was heard but the rustling of trees, and all they felt was the cool and against their skin that was quickly heating up. They were nervous, desperately needing a moment to gather themselves and decide what to do about you. It seemed like an opportunity fell into their laps, but it didn’t mean that it would be wise to take it. 

Even if there was tension between them, almost a sort of unspoken desire that they wanted the same thing, no one spoke. They smoked in silence for a while, the only sound of their breathing. 

“I want to fuck her,” Aggu said suddenly. His tone was shockingly, almost offensively casual as he lit his cigarette. 

Joost hesitated for a moment, flicking the lighter over and over as his cigarette burned and wasted between his fingers. He thought of you again, wondering what you were doing in the room all alone, and what thoughts were racing through your mind. He was strung out tonight, the show allowed him to get pent-up energy out, but never all of it. He smoked until he couldn’t bare it and drank enough to calm his nerves, but he realized that nothing would make him feel better than to fuck someone, it’s been so long, and seeing that you, how beautiful you were, and knowing you probably had enough money to buy him made you more attractive.

“I do too.” Joost finally answered, taking a short drag from his cigarette, wondering if Aggu was serious or just saying it as a vulgar compliment.

“We can fuck her together.” Aggu’s tone was still overly casual, it intimidated Joost as much as it began to excite him. “I think she’d like that.” 

It was subtle, his face was still as he felt overtaken by disbelief and reluctance as he’d never been in this situation before. He thought of it, a spoiled girl like yourself getting fucked by two men was beneath you, and knowing that only made him desire it to the point it was almost torturous. He didn’t realize he could want something this much, the fantasy replaying in his mind was tempting, and he didn’t want to let you slip through his fingers.

“How do you know that?” Joost questioned, his demeanor becoming standoffish. He couldn’t imagine the humiliation he’d feel if you turned them down, or worse preferred Aggu over himself. 

“Don’t be stupid.” Aggu threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out. “Let’s go, I’m getting cold.”

Joost did the same with his half-smoked cigarette and trailed behind Aggu, watching from just outside the door as he entered back into the room. Your eyes lit up immediately, looking up at him with stars in your eyes he began to suspect that he’d been right about you. Closing the door behind him, he still stayed in the same spot, his back leaning against it.

What came next shouldn’t have surprised him. He watched as Aggu sat down beside you, a drunken smile on his face, hands smoothing down on your arms before he leaned over and kept his face close to yours. 

“Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” Aggu’s voice had softened, his hand grasping your thigh making you instantly grow cold. “You’re too pretty.”

“I don’t.” You mumbled, staring directly at the floor you couldn’t find it within yourself to face him. 

You were allowed a moment away from his burning gaze but soon felt his fingers hold your chin and force you to turn your head. It was a bit jarring to see him without the ski goggles, but still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he’d willingly cover up such gorgeous eyes.

“Did your parents pay for your ticket?” Aggu questioned, your chest ignited with a combination of shame and excitement, you knew exactly what he thought of you.

“Kind of, they send me money often.” You admitted the look on his face made you instinctively squeeze your thighs together. Lust had completely taken over any sense you had.

“That’s cute.” Aggu’s hand squeezed down on your thigh, his thumb tracing circles against your soft skin. 

Everything about you was begging to be ruined. Your skin was almost unrealistically soft. He couldn’t imagine how high maintenance you were, how expensive your self-care products and your trips to the spa were. All for him to be able to hold you and eventually have his way with you. As he continued to touch your thigh, his eyes hadn’t left yours, leaning over he finally caved into his desires.

Joost couldn’t help but stare. He watched as your glossy lips parted and your eyes fluttered shut.  Aggu’s lips were plush against you, he watched as he brought you closer, his lips parting from yours only for his tongue lying flat against your neck the feeling made you squirm in his arms. The sight entranced him, he wanted to touch you but couldn’t find it in himself to move.

“Joost,” Aggu spoke against your neck making you squirm. “Stop watching, come here.”

He sat down next to you nervously. Aggu stopped kissing your neck for a moment to position you perfectly in the center so that Joost wouldn’t just have your back turned to him. 

You felt too many hands on you, squeezing your breasts, grazing over your waist, caressing your thighs. You couldn’t hold in the sounds you were making, the feeling of getting your neck kissed and their strong hands touching you was too much all at once. 

You couldn’t tell whose lips were softer, a minuscule detail you forced your thoughts to center on so that you had some sense of control. It was an empty effort, you were taken over by need and found yourself leaning towards one of the men for a kiss. 

You peeked through and saw you were kissing Joost, but the way his mustache scratched against your upper lip had given it away at first. The kiss didn’t last as long as you’d hoped, Aggu, impatient and a bit jealous moved your cheek so that you’d kiss him instead. 

“Don’t make us fight.” Aggu teased, one strong hand squeezing down on your breast as he kissed you.

You felt Joost press his lips against the corner of your mouth, the two men had become so desperate it intimidated you how strongly they were coming onto you. You began to wonder if you could handle going any further, two men kissing you at the same time was already overwhelming. 

You watched as their lips accidentally grazed each other’s, hearing them chuckle before they took turns kissing you on the lips. It cooled the tension for a moment, you were surprised that they could get along so well. 

You felt Aggu kiss your neck as Joost held your chin in his hand and brought you into a much softer kiss. Aggu was the first to begin to undress you. He carefully slid down the strap to your shirt, as eager as he was, when he saw that you slid the other down for him he took it as a sign to continue. 

You practically felt your clothes torn off your body by them both, stripping you bare as if you were teasing them for hours on end. Joost had left your lips puffy from his greedily passionate kiss, and the delicate skin on your neck throbbed from how many love bites Aggu left. They took everything off except for your stockings. They were black, slightly sheer, and sitting atop your lingerie. It wasn’t blatant with garter and intricate designs, but it was clear you’d made an effort.

“This is very nice,” Joost remarked as he squeezed down on your breasts, you felt yourself burn at the slight smirk on his face and the way he glanced at Aggu. “It’s very nice, isn’t it?” 

“I feel bad for your boyfriend, waiting at home for you.” Aggu teased, “Do you always wear things like this under your clothes?”

You couldn’t answer. You felt Aggu rest his hand on the back of your neck and guide you down so that you were now lying on your side. Your cheek rubbed up against the rough fabric of his dark jeans, you could smell the faint cologne and cigarette smoke, it nauseated and excited you.

Joost’s hands held your waist, gently moving you to the side so that you’d be lying on your stomach. He heard him sit up, the blood abandoning all your limbs to rush towards your head. You felt the room spinning as Aggu played with your hair, alternating from smoothing it down his gently to twirling a few strands around his fingers and tugging at it.     

Joost was behind you, his hands running down your back like stones skipping in the water, you shivered under his touch with anticipation. His fingers grazed against you softly, soon settling on your ass and grabbing and kneading down. You heard the two men share a laugh, Aggu leaning over to spank you a few times. Internally, that was the final moment of sanity you had left. You were never so desperate to be touched, you felt like it was almost cruel and were moments away from begging them. 

“Are these stockings expensive?” Joost asked softly, his hand rubbing down to soothe where Aggu had slapped.

“Uh,” You began, trying to remember where they were from, “I think they were a hundred euros or something.”

The room fell silent for less than a second before erupting in soft laughter. It was mocking, you felt ridiculed but strangely from the way they held you, Joost’s hand rubbing down on your back as Aggu continued to gently pet your hair the shame excited you. 

“You’re crazy.” Joost chuckled, staring down at the stockings he felt an intrusive thought naw at him. “You can get them for 5 euros at any store you know?”

Of course, you knew, and of course, Joost did as well. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise how fixated he was on your stockings when after a while of his hands running up and down the sheer, thin material he bunched them up as his hands and soon you heard the first sound of the threads snapping loose. 

The sound of tearing had again silenced the room but was intertwined by Joost’s first sound of pleasure. He groaned softly as he watched the fabric tear and split, like a present revealing your soft skin underneath. It invigorated him, relinquishing the power you had over to him and having complete freedom to make you a part of his fantasy. 

“I’m sorry.” Joost offered the apology, not necessarily regretting it but he didn’t want to upset you. “I’ll get you new ones.”

“The ones that cost five euros?” Aggu chuckled, getting a slap on the side of his arm in response. 

Joost finished undressing you completely, and soon everything had completely settled into reality for you. The coolness of the room should’ve helped to prevent how you burned up inside, a fire deep in your stomach and rushing over your body. You had lost a bit of sense, positioning yourself in a way that better to be fucked, and with your free hand, you tugged on Aggu’s belt.

“Zo wanhopig, so desperate,” Joost mumbled, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Are you comfortable like this?”

You looked back at him over your shoulder, nodding a bit apprehensively. As much as you wanted it you didn’t feel quite ready, but it was as if Joost heard and granted your internal wish. As Aggu continued playing with your hair and letting you palm him through his jeans, you felt Joost’s breath against your backside. 

He drew apart your thighs gently, leaning down, he kissed the backs of your thighs before he began to lick against your pussy. You couldn’t help but become immediately vocal. You whimpered with every movement, writhing your hips against his mouth selfishly. He didn’t seem to mind if anything he encouraged it as his fingers dug into your hips and kept them in place.

Aggu could only see Joost’s head from behind, but the only way thing he wanted was to watch the blissful expression on your face. As nice of a sight it was, paired with the sounds you were making soon made him grow impatient. It was like his body had a mind of its own, before he knew it his clothes were thrown messily in a pile near the couch and he was pushing his cock into your face.

He nudged it on your cheek to encourage you to open your mouth. You couldn’t describe the feeling that completely engulfed your senses. It was as lustful as it made you feel overly exposed. You’d never experienced anything close to this, and the fleeting thoughts of what your friends and your family would think if they knew. You couldn’t help but feel invigorated by the fact that it was so wrong and unlike you. 

Aggu could tell you were trying to maintain whatever poise you had left as you sucked him off. It was cute at first, you felt as he smoothed your hair out of your face and softly praised you, but as you withdrew too often as Joost eating you out was too overwhelming. Just like Joost held your hips in place, Aggu’s hands pulled your hair and shoved his cock into your mouth as softly as he could. 

The way you gagged against him drove him wild, it took every bit of constraint not to fuck your mouth as hard as he could. He relinquished some control, letting you take the lead. It soon dawned on him, from the look in your eyes that was far from begging but satisfied that he was just feeding into how spoiled you were. You came for CDs and now had Joost on his knees eating you out and Aggu aching for when it was his turn. 

As much as you didn’t want this to end, you felt your orgasm build steadily and you leaned desperately into chasing that feeling. Your legs grew unstable, you pushed yourself against Joost’s mouth and felt the enthusiasm reciprocated from how he hummed against you and sunk his fingers into your flesh. 

You cried out incoherently, Aggu’s cock hanging out your mouth as he let you ride out your orgasm against Joost’s tongue. He didn’t stop, the overstimulation sending electric bolts through your spent body. Your body ached with pleasure, every muscle relaxed, your heart pounding into your ears as your mind settled into a heavenly state. 

“You taste so good.” Joost’s face was now next to yours, you felt his breath against your neck making you shiver. “Give me a kiss.”

He brought you into a quick, sloppy kiss. His tongue shoved into your mouth, filling it with the taste of you. It was strange, not unpleasant but you’d never had anyone kiss you directly afterwards, especially like this. 

“Let me see.” Aggu pulled you up and kissed you a bit most gently, tasting remnants of yourself on your soft lips. “Get back on your knees and help Joost out.”

He was authoritative, yanking your hair and manhandling you before he spread your legs the same way Joost had, 

“Wait-“ You protested, overwhelmed, your head foggy and confused as you felt Aggu press a kiss against your sensitive clit. 

You were melting under their touch, your lips wrapped around Joost’s cock as Aggu ate your pussy just for the sake of tasting you. Once he was satisfied, you heard the sound of plastic tearing which made you burn with anticipation. 

“You want me to fuck you, Schatz?” Aggu cooed, his hand delicately smoothing down your back. “Hm?”

“Yes,” You withdrew from Joost’s cock before he guided your head back to pleasuring him. “Please, I need it.”

It was quick and sloppy. You felt completely used and you loved it. Aggu’s tip stretched you out, it burned with pleasure with every movement, matter how much you winced and grunted from the discomfort it was all worth it when he bottomed you out. He filled you up perfectly, the way his big hands felt against your hot skin made you grow weaker. The two men had made indentations of your hips, their infatuation with you, your body, the way you were like a little gift from the universe dropped into their lap.

You were an absolute dream. Joost watched as you gave him head, not being able to focus completely on the obscenities in the room. He listened to you spit on his dick and suck him off, the sound of your groans entertained with his own, and skin slapping from Aggu pounding into you. It was nothing less than a fantasy. He wondered how many people would kill just to get to watch.

“I’m gonna cum.” Joost sighed, breaking the tension momentarily, “Just like that, such a good girl.”

You felt it was almost rewarding to have them both in the palm of your hand. It was better than your climax to bring them both to that point, the two men panting and mumbling incoherent praises as they fucked you. They took turns kissing you just to see how you tasted. You began to truly believe there wasn’t anything in this world you couldn’t have. 

Joost came in your mouth without warning, bringing you back harshly to the reality of the room. Hearing his groan and cry out your name as he desperately bucked his hips into your mouth was the most incredible feeling. You swallowed without a second thought, eagerly licking against the shaft and tip as he watched a bit dumbfounded. 

“Oh, god.” Joost sighed, his eyes and voice weary. “You’re perfect.” He pinched your cheek lovingly before giving you a tired smile. 

Aggu’s pace at first was controlled, he didn’t want to make you overwhelm you as you took. care of Joost, he was a good friend after all. He wished he wasn’t so close, but seeing you suck Joost off and lap up his cock when he was done was too erotic, he wished he’d looked away, but the sounds alone could’ve gotten him off.

He tried to last longer, thinking of something to turn him off,  like the hangover he’ll have the next morning, the thought of packing up all his shit to get on a plane to the next show. It was all an empty effort when you looked over your shoulder. The way your eyes met his immediately, big, pleading with your eyebrows knit together in bliss. He put you on your back, with a few quick motions treating you like a doll so he could finish himself off. 

Aggu’s hands molded into yours, like hot glass,  so delicate and vulnerable. You didn’t notice how many hands were on you, Joost helping Aggu and positioning himself at the side of the couch. His lips suddenly pressed against your nipples, drawing out a pathetic sound. Two fingers pressed onto your clit, rubbing down as Aggu’s pace became punishing. 

Your body moved with his, staring up into his eyes you never wanted to look away. Your body was no longer yours for a few seconds, you’d completely surrendered to their touch and pleasure. Your orgasm had built up as quickly as it washed over you. Your body convulsed with pleasure, unexpedelyh which made it that much more intense. Aggu felt you clench around him, watching your blissful expression and feeling you soak his cock he couldn’t take it. 

He soon followed after you, being far more vocal than both you and Joost. His moans were deep and drawn out, pumping himself inside of you a few more times before he practically collapsed beside you. 

It was a tight fit, Aggu’s body was muscular, warm, and a bit tacky with sweat. Joost’s hands rubbed up and down your body to soothe you. Their tenderness was comforting, despite the fact this was all purely out of lust. 

Your body felt heavy, wrapped in Aggu’s arms you watched as Joost got up and went over to the corner of the room. You watched a bit confused as he took some crumbled bills from his wallet and stuck them in your purse, not before leaning down and kissing you. 

“Sorry about the stockings.” 

-

guys i’m sorry for being inactive! i had some summer courses i was finishing up. i’m working on recs so ty to everyone for ur patience :)!

[saucymunch]

megumi x reader one shot fluff slightly suggestive megumi fluff secret relationship

it was a hot summer day. the sun was almost ripping through the students black uniforms, and everybody just wanted to take a nice bath and go inside the air conditioned building.

"hey! you can't just take my water bottle kugisaki!!!" yuji whined, doused in sweat from his duel with maki.

nobara finished her swig of yujis fresh cold water, "oh come on! you're not gonna let a woman die of sun poisoning, are you?" she complains, throwing his bottle back to him, as itadori huffed.

you and megumi had just finished your spar, with you winning, as always. "nice to see the two of you interacting for once!" gojo snuck behind the two of you, as he snaked his arms around the both of you.

nobara and yuji walked over. "yeah! you two are always avoiding each other like the plague." yuji laughed.

"now that i think about it, are you two even friends?" nobara cocked her head to the side, placing a hand on her hip.

you shuffle your feet to step away from gojo's grasp. "oh, i don't know." you breath out, clearly uncomfortable as your gaze moves to the dirt.

megumi simply looks to the side, mumbling something about how they need to mind their own business with a big scowl. gojo chuckles, and gathers all the students.

he passes out water bottles as he explains to everybody that they were now free to do as they please, even allowing them to go off campus if they wanted for the next week. gojo was set to be out of town, and all of the upcoming missions had been assigned to yuta, who was back in town. it was now the second and first years unofficial and unexpected summer break. the students thanked their white haired sensei and all headed back to their dorms.

as you were walking back, you made sure to walk behind everybody, to talk to megumi.

"hey, you gonna go see your parents over break?" he inquired, lightly bumping your shoulder.

"nope! was planning on just spending it with you." you whisper the last part, making him blush a bit.

the sun was bright orange, finally deciding to set. it was a humid hot afternoon.

"we should go to the onsen. gojo gave me two coupons. plus, nobody's gonna be there since it's so hot out." he suggests, almost reaching for your hand to hold, before realizing he couldn't because you were out in public.

the two of you continued walking towards the dorms, keeping a safe distance from the rest of the vibrant students, who were all discussing what they should do with these rare off days. you could see maki and inumaki cheering, clearly exhilarated. you also could clearly see kugisaki and itadori bickering over what movie they should watch.

"sounds perfect, meet you outside of your dorm at six?" you ask, smiling at the spiky haired boy.

he nodded contently, and the two of you split ways.

after packing a backpack of onsen necessities, you changed into a white linen tank top, as well as blue striped linen shorts. grabbing your phone, you texted fushiguro that you were on your way.

and before you knew it, the two of you took the train to a quieter and more rural area of town, where rice paddies began showing up.

"wow. we must've come far if there are rice fields! it's so refreshing being off campus!" you inhale and exhale deeply, smelling the the countryside while stretching after stepping off the train, as you let go of fushiguro's hand.

megumi lets out a small laugh, seeing you so excited.

"come on, it's this way." his soft hand grabs yours, and you happily follow him, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

his eyes widen, and his cheeks flush as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"be careful, what if someone sees us?" he looks around, worried.

"pffft. there's only grandmas and grandpas near us right now. no way we'd run into anybody! unless you just don't like my kisses, fushiguro." you huff out.

the two of you are walking down a dirt road up a mountain. the sun had already set, and a few lantern lights lit up the trail.

"you know that's not what i meant. i just wouldn't be able to stand the endless teasing if they found out." he says, already fuming at the thought of it.

"mhm." the onsen was now in sight. it was rather large, and looked perfect. you could see the steam rising behind the bamboo trees and wall.

"now quit calling me fushiguro, i don't like it." he says, letting go of your hand to show the elderly lady his coupon.

"and you two know this is a konyoku, right? perfect for couples or large groups of friends!" the old lady smiled as she informed and handed the two of you the passes.

megumi nodded. "thank you, ma'am." he replies.

you both walk to the lobby, where you both part ways briefly to change. this onsen specifically was unisex,

and allowed you to cover up with a body towel in the water. you wrapped the thin towel around your body, clipping it into place, as you slowly walked out of the changing room, careful not to slip. your eyes landed on megumi, and he smiled as he signaled for you to come over. the onsen pool was outside and large, and steam filled the air. more steam than usual made it hard to see. since it was night, the few lanterns on top of the large stones lit up the area, making it almost romantic. you were prepared for the entire date to be gross as it was already so hot and humid out, thinking the hot steamy onsen would make you feel worse. instead, the warmth of the water as you dipped your toe in, the sight of your seemingly perfect boyfriends face, and the refreshing and slightly chilly summer night time breeze had cured your aching muscles and melted away your worries.

megumi had a towel draped over his waist. you fully submerged your body into the hot water, holding your towel in place. megumi watched in awe, as you slowly waded through the water to him, his small smiling growing, as the ends of your hair got wet.

"oh! could you tie my hair up, please?" you asked, holding out your hair tie, with a grin.

megumi rolled his eyes, taking the black hair tie. "i don't understand why you like it so much when i touch your hair." he says gently, as he meticulously pulls your hair into a bun.

his large hands run through your hair as he finally ties it.

you hum in satisfaction. "just feels good."

the two of you sigh, finally relaxing after weeks of endless missions and not being able to properly spend time with each other. every time you want to see megumi, it meant sneaking around after hours. it was exhausting.

"so nice how nobody is here. you were right, no one comes to the bathhouse when its hot out, especially at night." you commend him with a kiss.

after a few moments of silence, you speak up.

"you know, it wouldn't be all too bad if we just- told them." you suggest, as megumi pulls you closer, his toned arms wrapped tightly around your stomach area concealed by your towel. his chin was resting on your head.

"i would. i would if the people in our lives were somewhat normal." he sighs out.

"now that i think about it, i can imagine the endless teasing." you exhale out, feeling megumi's hands slowly start to move under your towel, as he feels the skin of your stomach. it's not even sexual, just pure love.

"i missed touching you. i almost forgot how you felt." he softly smiles into your neck.

you're hugging his left arm, rubbing circles on his bicep with your thumb, as you unwind.

"i wish this was forever." you breath out, completely lost in his eyes as you straddle his lap, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"we will be." he locks lips with you, completely closing the gap between you both.

his soft lips are now kissing you. completely enchanted by each other. pure euphoria floods the both of you, as your hands are tangling and running through his already messy hair, making it even more disheveled. megumi is slipping his hands under your towel again, hands spread wide, but only touching your back and sides, careful not to touch anywhere too intimate, but craving every inch of you. the two of you forgot to breathe, didn't want to.

your reminder to breathe was here, as you and megumi heard the screen door from the changing room open, while you were still straddling his lap, hands still tangled in his black hair, his hands still under your towel, gasping for air, hoping the dense fog would hide your swollen red lips and obvious messy hair.

"why did we have to come to an onsen in the middle of june, itadori? we could've gone shopping!"

but folks, you can only sneak around for so long, and fog can only be so dense.

nobara dropped her tin cup of water, the cup hitting the ground with a loud clang.

her mouth hung open, eyes wide.

"f-fushiguro. and y/n. kissing." itadori points, mouth also hung open.

you quickly pushed yourself off of megumi, fixing his hair, and he tugged your towel, moving it back to place.

you moved to sit back next to megumi, leaving an honest distance between the two of you.

"nobody will believe you two." megumi blurted, squinting his eyes.

itadori simply stared, still processing everything. nobara's eyes grew ten times larger, anger fueling her bones when she realized megumi was right. nobody would believe them. the two of you were so bland to each other at school! you barely talked to each other! people thought you hated each other. were they even friends, people thought.

so on the train ride to the shopping district the same night, which nobara and yuji had to tag along, when you and megumi sat next to each other behind nobara and yuji, you both snickered at nobara's anger. the school had just recently took everybody's phones for a short period of time as a punishment, so she couldn't even take a photo for evidence when every time she looked back at the two of you, you were snuggled up next to each other, or kissing. she fumed and cussed you both out when she wasn't able to take a picture and or video of when megumi carried all of your shopping bags, when he had lovingly put your hair up, when you had cupped his cheeks to kiss him publicly for the first time, when he held your hand so tight he didn't want to let go, when you bought matching keychains and matching sneakers for you both, when he constantly had a stupidly big smile every time he looked at you.

she was happy for the two of you of course. it was just mind boggling. yuji was pretty chill with it all. the occasional, "i thought fushiguro hated everybody on this planet" but nothing bad.

when they had reached campus to return to their dorms, they all stopped by the common lounge.

you and megumi simply laughed at nobara's attempt to try and convince the second years and gojo of what they encountered today. "i swear, they were making out in the onsen!" she whined, desperate for evidence.

but nobody believed her. there was no way. until, satoru had projected a video onto the tv.

"the old lady at the front desk of the onsen was kind enough to lend me some security footage. it was a clothed onsen after all, so cameras are allowed~!" gojo snickered, seeing megumi's face heat up.

the video was a minute long, of you and megumi going at each other, it was evident his hands were sneaking under your towel, your hands tangling his hair, your lips locked onto his.

the video even had sound, which sounded rather inappropriate.

megumi tackled gojo, wrestling him to turn the video off, and the rest of the student watched in awe. nobara was manically cheering, screaming "i told you so" at the top of her lungs over and over again. yuji was covering his eyes, saying he "didn't need to watch it twice", and you were prying megumi off of gojo, who was shrieking for help.

[23victoria]

Father’s Day!!

f1 grid x reader

warnings: just fluff

authors note: today is Father’s Day so want to do something with the grid!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Max

It's Father's Day, and you're determined to make it special for Max. The morning sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains as you gently wake up your little one, Oliver. You both tiptoe down the hall to the kitchen, where you've prepared a simple but heartfelt breakfast: Max's favorite pancakes, fresh fruit, and a steaming cup of coffee.

Oliver insists on carrying the tray, wobbling slightly but managing to keep everything balanced. You lead the way, quietly pushing open the bedroom door. Max is still asleep, a peaceful expression on his face. Oliver climbs onto the bed, and you can't help but smile as he places a messy kiss on Max's cheek.

"Daddy, wake up! Happy Father's Day!" Oliver's excitement is infectious, and Max stirs, a smile spreading across his face as he opens his eyes.

"Good morning, my babies," Max says, pulling Oliver into a hug and then reaching for you. "This is the best way to wake up."

After breakfast, you all head to the living room, where Oliver presents Max with a hand-painted picture. It's a portrait of your family, with a rainbow in the background and everyone holding hands. Max's eyes mist over as he looks at the painting, his heart swelling with love and pride.

"This is amazing, Oliver. Thank you so much," he says, kissing the top of his son's head. "And thank you, love, for making today so special."

The rest of the day is filled with laughter and joy. You all head to the park, where Max and Oliver play soccer while you watch, capturing every moment on your phone. In the afternoon, you return home for a barbecue, with Oliver helping to flip burgers and Max manning the grill.

As the sun sets, you all snuggle up on the couch to watch Max's favorite movie. Oliver falls asleep in Max's arms, and you rest your head on Max's shoulder, feeling content and happy.

"I couldn't have asked for a better Father's Day," Max whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much."

Lewis

Father's Day morning comes gently, the sun's rays filtering through the curtains as you and your daughter, Amara, lie in bed, savoring the rare opportunity to sleep in. Last night had been a marathon movie night, with the three of you snuggled on the couch, laughing and enjoying each other's company until the wee hours. As the morning progresses, you and Amara tiptoe out of the bedroom, leaving Lewis to catch a few more minutes of sleep.

In the kitchen, you and Amara prepare a light and easy vegan lunch. The menu includes a vibrant quinoa salad with roasted vegetables, a fresh avocado and tomato sandwich, and a chilled fruit smoothie. Amara is excited, and you guide her hands as she slices veggies and blends the smoothie.

As the meal comes together, you set a tray with the food and a small vase holding a single flower that Amara picked from the garden. Together, you quietly walk back to the bedroom, the tray balanced carefully in your hands. Amara climbs onto the bed first, gently shaking Lewis's shoulder.

"Daddy, wake up! We've got a surprise for you!" she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Lewis stirs, opening his eyes to see Amara’s bright smile and your loving gaze. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, and grins as he sees the tray.

"Good morning, my beautiful girls," he says, pulling Amara into a hug and giving you a warm kiss. "This is an amazing way to wake up."

After savoring the delicious lunch, you and Amara present Lewis with his special gift. Amara hands him a small, wrapped box, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Lewis opens it to find a handcrafted bracelet, ring, and necklace, each piece intricately designed with tiny charms and beads that the two of you had spent weeks working on together.

"Wow, Amara, these are incredible," Lewis says, his voice filled with emotion. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. And thank you, love, for helping her. These are truly special."

Amara beams with pride as Lewis puts on the bracelet and necklace, sliding the ring onto his finger. The rest of the day is spent in relaxed joy. You all lounge around the house, playing board games and sharing stories. In the afternoon, you take a walk in the park, where Lewis and Amara race each other along the path, their laughter echoing through the trees.

As evening falls, you all return home and cuddle up on the couch once more, this time to watch the sunset through the living room window. Amara eventually falls asleep in Lewis's arms, and you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," Lewis whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much. Thank you for making today unforgettable."

Charles

Father's Day morning begins with the sun gently illuminating your bedroom. You and your son, Lucas, had stayed up late the night before, giggling and making final preparations for Charles's special day. After catching a bit of extra sleep, you both decide to let Charles rest while you head to the kitchen to prepare his favorite breakfast: croissants, fresh fruit, and a strong espresso.

Lucas, eager to help, assists in arranging the food on a tray. You add a small vase with a single rose, a simple yet thoughtful touch. Together, you carry the tray to the bedroom, where Charles is still in a peaceful slumber. Lucas carefully climbs onto the bed, placing a soft kiss on his father's cheek.

"Happy Father's Day, Papa!" Lucas exclaims, his voice filled with excitement.

Charles stirs, opening his eyes to see Lucas's beaming face and your loving smile. He sits up, reaching out to pull Lucas into a warm hug and giving you a tender kiss.

"Good morning, my loves," Charles says, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "This is the best way to wake up."

After enjoying the delicious breakfast, Lucas announces that he has another surprise for Charles. He dashes out of the room and returns with a beautifully wrapped gift. Charles's curiosity is piqued as he carefully unwraps the present.

Inside, he finds a custom-made photo album. Each page is filled with pictures of the most cherished moments you've shared as a family: vacations, birthdays, holidays, and candid snapshots of everyday life. Lucas had painstakingly decorated the pages with stickers, drawings, and little notes, each one a testament to his love and creativity.

Charles's eyes well up with tears as he flips through the pages, reliving the memories. "Lucas, this is amazing. Thank you so much, my little artist. And thank you, love, for helping him put this together. It's perfect."

Lucas beams with pride, and you wrap your arms around both of them, feeling a wave of love and happiness. The rest of the day is filled with joyful activities. You take a family trip to the zoo, where Charles and Lucas marvel at the animals and share ice cream cones. In the afternoon, you return home for a barbecue, with Lucas eagerly helping to flip the burgers while Charles mans the grill.

As the sun sets, you all snuggle up on the couch to watch Charles's favorite movie. Lucas falls asleep in Charles's arms, and you rest your head on Charles's shoulder, feeling content and happy.

"I couldn't have asked for a better Father's Day," Charles whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you both so much."

Carlos

It's Father's Day, and you and your daughter, Sofia, have been planning a special surprise for Carlos for weeks. The morning starts with you both sneaking into the kitchen to prepare Carlos's favorite Spanish breakfast: churros with hot chocolate.

Sofia climbs onto the bed and places a kiss on Carlos's cheek. "Happy Father's Day, Papa!" she exclaims, her excitement waking Carlos with a start. He blinks a few times before his eyes focus on the two of you.

"Good morning, mi princesa," he says, pulling Sofia into a hug and reaching out to you. "This is the best surprise."

Sofia announces she has another surprise for her papa. Sofia dashes out of the room, returning with a large, colorfully wrapped box. Carlos, his curiosity piqued, smiles as he accepts the gift from his beaming daughter.

"Open it, Papa! I made it just for you!" Sofia exclaims, practically bouncing with excitement.

Carlos carefully unwraps the gift, revealing a beautifully handcrafted model of his race car. The model is made from wood, meticulously painted in his team's colors, with fine details that capture the essence of his real car. Sofia had spent weeks working on it, sanding and painting each piece with your help.

Carlos’s eyes widen in amazement as he examines the intricate model. "Sofia, this is incredible! You made this all by yourself?"

Sofia nods eagerly. "Well, Mommy helped a little, but I did most of it. Do you like it?"

"I love it," Carlos says, his voice filled with emotion. He pulls Sofia into a tight hug. "This is one of the best gifts I've ever received. Thank you, my little artist."

The rest of the day is spent in high spirits. You all head out to the park for a fun-filled day of activities. Carlos and Sofia race their remote-controlled cars, laughing and cheering as they navigate through makeshift tracks. Later, you enjoy a picnic under the shade of a large oak tree, savoring the simple pleasures of being together.

You rest your head on Carlos's shoulder, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Carlos looks at you with love and gratitude in his eyes.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "Thank you for making it so special. I love you both so much."

Lando

Father's Day morning starts with you and your son, Theo, preparing a fun and easy breakfast for Lando: banana pancakes with maple syrup and a side of fresh berries. After breakfast in bed, Theo excitedly announces he has a special surprise for Lando.

Theo runs out of the room and returns with a small, neatly wrapped box. Lando's eyes light up as he takes the gift from Theo's eager hands.

"Daddy, open it! I made it just for you! But mommy help me as well!!" Theo exclaims, his excitement palpable.

Lando carefully unwraps the gift to reveal a handmade keychain. The keychain is crafted from colorful beads and charms, spelling out "Best Dad" along with tiny race car and helmet charms. Theo had put his heart into making it, with your help guiding his little hands.

"This is awesome, Theo! I love it," Lando says, his voice full of warmth. He pulls Theo into a hug. "Thank you, buddy. I'll keep this with me always."

The rest of the day is filled with activities at Lando's favorite amusement park, where he and Theo ride all the roller coasters and enjoy the day to its fullest. Back home, you all enjoy a cozy movie night, snuggled up together, cherishing every moment.

Oscar

Father's Day morning begins with you and your daughter, Ava, preparing a simple but delicious brunch for Oscar: an egg omelette with spinach bell peppers onions and bacon with waffles and some turkey sandwiches cut into half’s with a fresh fruit smoothie. After the brunch, Ava eagerly announces her special surprise for her daddy.

Ava rushes out of the room and returns with a beautifully decorated scrapbook. Oscar's curiosity is piqued as he accepts the gift from his daughter’s proud hands.

"Daddy, we made this for you!" Ava says, her eyes sparkling.

Oscar opens the scrapbook to find it filled with drawings, photos, and little notes. Each page captures special moments they've shared: trips to the beach, family game nights, and candid snapshots of daily life. Ava had worked tirelessly on it, with your help organizing the pages.

"This is amazing, Ava. I love it," Oscar says, his voice filled with emotion. He pulls Ava into a hug. "Thank you so much, sweetheart. This is a treasure."

The day continues with a visit to a botanical garden, where Oscar and Ava explore the vibrant plants and flowers and even go into the butterfly garden. After that you guys go to a nice restaurant for dinner and go home ending the day with a lots of cuddles.

Sebastian

Father's Day starts with you and your son, Max, preparing a nice breakfast for him: honey and cinnamon pancakes with eggs, turkey bacon and fresh fruit. After enjoying the meal in together, Max reveals his special surprise for his papa.

Max runs to his room and returns with a large, carefully wrapped package. Seb's eyes twinkle with anticipation as he accepts the gift from Max’s excited hands.

"Papa, open it! I made it for you!" Max exclaims, his excitement evident.

Sebastian unwraps the package to reveal a handmade birdhouse. The birdhouse is painted in bright colors and adorned with tiny flowers and leaves. Max had spent countless afternoons working on it, with your guidance and support.

"This is wonderful, Max! I love it," Sebastian says, his voice brimming with pride. He pulls Max into a warm hug. "Thank you, my little craftsman. We'll put this in the garden together."

The rest of the day is spent outdoors, visiting a local farm and feeding the animals. Back home, they set up the birdhouse in the garden, watching for birds to come. The day concludes with a cozy evening watching The Incredibles 2, Max falling asleep in Seb's arms.

Jenson Button

Father's Day morning begins with the sun shining through the curtains and the soft sound of paws padding around the house. You and your two kids, Lily and Jake, are up early, ready to surprise Jenson with a day filled with love, laughter, and a few surprises from the whole family, including the dogs.

First, you all head to the kitchen to prepare a hearty English breakfast: baked beans, toast, and a selection of fresh fruits. The dogs, Storm, Rogue and Bentley, are excitedly wagging their tails, sensing the fun to come. You prepare a special dog-friendly treat for them to deliver to Jenson as well.

Once breakfast is ready, you and the kids carry the trays up to the bedroom, with Storm, Rogue and Bentley following closely, each with a small, wrapped gift tied to their collars. Lily and Jake eagerly climb onto the bed, placing kisses on Jenson's cheeks to wake him up.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" they exclaim in unison.

Jenson groggily opens his eyes, a smile spreading across his face as he sees his excited kids and the delicious breakfast laid out before him. "Good morning, my little loves. This is the best wake-up call."

As he sits up, Storm, Rogue and Bentley jump onto the bed, tails wagging furiously. Jenson laughs as he notices the gifts tied to their collars.

"Looks like even the dogs have something for you, Daddy!" Jake says, grinning.

Jenson unties the first gift from Storm collar. Inside, he finds a personalized mug with "World's Best Dad" written on it and a picture of Jenson with Storm, Rogue and Bentley. "This is fantastic! Thank you, Storm," he says, patting the dog's head.

Next, he opens the gift from Rogue collar. It's a new set of golf balls with "Best Dad" engraved on each one. "Wow, Rogue, you know me so well," Jenson laughs, scratching Rogue behind the ears.

Jenson unties a gift from Bentley's collar. Inside, he finds sunglasses with "JB" engraved on it. Jenson smiles and gives Bentley a big hug. "Thank you, Bentley. This is so nice."

"Now for our gifts!" Lily says, handing Jenson a brightly wrapped package. Inside, Jenson finds a handmade photo frame decorated with seashells, featuring a picture of the whole family from their last beach vacation.

"This is beautiful, Lily. Thank you so much," Jenson says, giving her a big hug.

Jake hands over his gift next, a Lego set to build The Millennium Falcon. "We can build it together, Dad!" Jake says, his eyes shining with excitement.

"Awesome, Jake. I can't wait to get started on this," Jenson says, pulling Jake into a hug.

The rest of the day is filled with fun and adventure. You all head to the nearby park with the dogs, where Jenson and the kids play catch, run around, and even try their hands at flying a kite. Roscoe and Coco have the time of their lives chasing after the frisbee and each other.

In the afternoon, you return home to make a special dinner together. You gather in the kitchen, setting up a pizza-making station with various ingredients. Each of you gets a dough base to create your own unique pizza.

Lily goes for a classic margherita with lots of cheese, Jake opts for a pepperoni and olive combo, Jenson decides on a prosciutto and arugula pizza, and you make a buffalo chicken masterpiece. Storm, Rogue and Bentley are given their own special dog-friendly pizzas, which they eagerly gobble up.

As the pizzas bake, the kitchen fills with delicious aromas. You all sit around the table, enjoying your creations and sharing stories. The evening is filled with laughter, as you recount the day's adventures and enjoy the warmth of being together as a family.

After dinner, you all snuggle up on the couch with the dogs, watching one of Jenson's favorite movies. Lily and Jake eventually fall asleep, and Roscoe and Coco curl up at their feet. You lean against Jenson, feeling content and happy.

"This has been the perfect Father's Day," Jenson whispers, kissing your forehead. "I love you all so much. Thank you for making today unforgettable."

Daniel

Father's Day morning begins with a mischievous plan you and your son, Jack, concoct to wake Daniel up in a way he'll never forget. The two of you tiptoe around the house, preparing for the grand surprise. You and Jack decide that a good old-fashioned prank will be the perfect way to start the day.

You both set up downstairs, positioning yourselves in the kitchen with a delicious vegan lunch waiting to be served. On the count of three, you and Jack begin to scream and shout, creating a cacophony of pretend chaos.

"Dad! Help! There's a huge mess!" you yell, adding to the commotion.

From upstairs, you hear the sound of Daniel springing out of bed and rushing down the stairs. He bursts into the kitchen, his hair tousled and eyes wide with concern.

"What's going on? Is everyone okay?" Daniel exclaims, looking around frantically.

You and Jack burst into laughter, unable to keep up the act any longer. Daniel's confusion quickly turns to a smile as he realizes he's been pranked.

"Happy Father's Day!" you both shout, grinning widely.

Daniel shakes his head, chuckling. "You got me good! Whose idea was this?"

You and Jack exchange glances and remain silent, trying to stifle your laughter. Daniel raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Oh, so you're not going to tell me, huh?" he says, moving towards you both with a mischievous grin. "Well, I guess I'll have to get the truth out another way."

With that, Daniel starts chasing you around the house. Jack squeals and runs, but Daniel quickly catches him, lifting him up and starting to tickle him mercilessly.

"No, Mom! Save me from the tickle monster!" Jack cries out between fits of laughter.

You stand back, laughing as you watch the two of them. Daniel’s infectious laughter fills the room as Jack squirms and giggles uncontrollably.

"Alright, alright! I surrender!" Jack finally manages to say, still giggling as Daniel relents.

As things settle down, you guide Daniel to the dining table where the surprise lunch is laid out: a colorful spread of avocado toast, quinoa salad, and fresh fruit smoothies.

"Happy Father's Day, love," you say, kissing Daniel on the cheek. "We thought you deserved a fun wake-up call."

Daniel smiles, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in for a hug. "You two are the best. This is perfect."

The rest of the day is filled with laughter and love. You spend the afternoon playing games in the garden, enjoying the beautiful weather and each other's company. In the evening, you all snuggle up on the couch for a cozy movie night, feeling grateful for the special moments shared together.

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[the-borgias]

sorry if this has been asked before but how do you make your gradients look so good?

Hi Anon! First of all thank you so much 🫶

I like to use gradient maps (which I've explained here) or gradient fills + gradient tool. I'll drop a little tutorial under the cut:

GRADIENT FILL

I'll be using this gif which I've already sharpened and coloured:

First of all let's make the background pop so I'm going to add a gradient fill (Layer -> New fill layer -> Gradient) with these settings (I'm using this colour #0099ff):

Now it's the time to play with the blending settings! Depending on your scene some will look better than others but I usually switch between Soft Light, Overlay, Color or Hue. 90% of the time I use soft light but this scene looked much better using overlay:

As you can see the background looks more blue and vibrant but it's not too much you know.

GRADIENT TOOL

Now it's time to use the gradient tool to give this gif a hazy look. I haven't seen many gifmakers talk about this tool but it's soooo useful and it takes gradients to a whole new level.

Before using this tool we'll need to add a new layer above the gradient fill, like this:

(HELP I just realised I typed “later” instead of “layer” 🤡 but let’s ignore that)

You can choose the gradient tool by pressing 'G' and then clicking here:

Make sure your gradient goes from any colour to a transparent background.

Okay so next to this gradient settings we have five different styles and each one will create a different shape. Depending on the scene I'll use the first, second or fourth one. Here are how they look:

1. Linear gradient

2. Radial gradient + Reverse (if you don't click this you'll end up with a blue circle above your gif)

3. Reflected gradient + Reverse

This time I'm going to use the radial gradient so to draw it start by clicking on the centre of the gif and drag the line (the farther you drag it the less intense the gradient looks):

And this is the gradient:

And here comes the fun part again, playing with the blending setting and the opacity! Before doing anything I duplicate my gradient layer because I always use more than one so this is how your layers should look like:

Let's go to the first gradient tool layer and again try different blending modes: soft light, overlay, hue... Most of the time I'll use 'Soft layer' and I'll leave the opacity at 100%.

For the second layer choose 'Screen' and don't worry if your gif looks too bright because we're going to fix this by decreasing the opacity. Anything between 20-60% should look good but it depends if you want a more vibrant or more natural effect. I ended up using 40% and this is the result:

And we're done!!! As you can see the result looks much different from our first gif and it only takes a couple of layers!

Honestly the best advice I can give you is to play with the opacity and blending mode of the different gradient layers because depending on the scene some will look better than others!

[s4kura-tr3]

Could you write jjk men (Nanami, Gojo and Geto) w/a masked fem!reader?

She got big scars around her face due to an accident from childhood and haven’t showed her face ever since..

how would the men react if the somehow saw her face for the first time? (You can choose how)

Satoru Gojo — It was late at night, the two of you lounging comfortably in the living room after a long day. Gojo’s infinity was off, and his blindfold hung loosely around his neck. You were in your favorite hoodie, but your usual bandage was missing, your scar unexpectedly exposed.

Gojo had come back into the room with a snack in hand, but the moment his eyes landed on your face, he froze. His vibrant blue eyes widened slightly, taking in the mark you had always hidden. For a moment, there was nothing but silence, and you could feel your stomach tighten with anxiety.

“Gojo…” you started nervously, your hands instinctively going up to cover your face, but he was faster.

In an instant, he was crouched in front of you, his hands gently but firmly cupping your cheeks to stop you from hiding.

“So… this is the scar you’ve been hiding from me?” he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, feeling small under the weight of his attention. “Yeah… I know it’s not—”

“Beautiful,” he interrupted, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. “It’s beautiful.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. “You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m Gojo Satoru. I always tell the truth,” he teased lightly, his tone gentle. “And besides, this scar is part of you. And I happen to be head over heels for all of you.”

His thumbs brushed over your cheeks, his expression uncharacteristically serious for a moment. “You don’t have to hide anything from me. Ever. Got it?”

You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small laugh. “Got it.”

His grin returned, bright and mischievous as ever. “Good. Now, can I say something cheesy without you laughing at me?”

“Depends,” you said, smiling despite yourself.

He leaned closer, his nose brushing against yours. “I think scars are kind of badass. And yours makes you even more perfect to me.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laugh. But it wasn’t because of him—it was because, somehow, he always knew just what to say to make you feel loved.

Suguru Geto — The quiet hum of the rain outside filled the room as you sat cross-legged on the couch, absentmindedly flipping through a book. Geto sat nearby, his long hair loosely tied back, sipping tea as he enjoyed the serene moment with you.

You hadn’t realized it at first, but in your haste to get comfortable, you had forgotten to rewrap the bandage around your eyes after your shower. The scar—hidden for so long—was now exposed.

“Hey,” Geto’s smooth voice called softly, pulling you from your thoughts.

You looked up to find his dark eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable but calm. It only took a second for you to realize what he was staring at. Your breath caught in your throat as your hand instinctively flew up to cover the scar.

“Wait,” he said gently, setting his tea down as he shifted closer. His voice held no judgment, only a quiet curiosity. “Don’t hide it.”

“I just…” You hesitated, lowering your gaze. “I didn’t mean for you to see it.”

“Why not?” His tone was soft but firm, the question laced with genuine concern.

You shook your head, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s… ugly. I didn’t want you to think differently of me.”

There was a pause, and then you felt his hand wrap around yours, gently pulling it away from your face. You finally looked up, and the tenderness in his expression nearly undid you.

“Ugly?” he repeated, almost incredulously, as his thumb lightly brushed over the scar. “Who told you that nonsense?”

You swallowed hard. “It’s just… how I’ve always felt about it.”

He let out a soft sigh, his lips curling into a faint, affectionate smile. “You’ve been hiding this from me the whole time?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “I was scared you’d see it and…”

“And what? Stop loving you?” His voice was warm, almost teasing, but there was a seriousness in his gaze. He leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against yours. “That’s not going to happen. Ever.”

You blinked back tears as his hand moved to cradle your face. “Scars tell stories,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “And yours is part of what makes you who you are. How could I ever see that as anything but beautiful?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s a talent of mine.” Then his expression softened even more. “You don’t have to hide from me, ever. You’re safe with me. Always.”

In that moment, as he pulled you into a gentle hug, you realized he wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them with every fiber of his being.

Nanami kento — You had fallen asleep on the couch after a long day. Nanami had stayed up late working in the study but eventually made his way to the living room. When he saw you, sprawled out and peaceful, his lips curved into a faint smile.

He moved closer to drape a blanket over you, but as he leaned down, his sharp eyes caught something he hadn’t seen before. The bandage you always wore around your eyes had slipped off in your sleep, revealing the scar hidden beneath.

Nanami paused, his breath catching slightly as he took in the sight. He crouched beside you, his expression unreadable as his fingers lightly brushed the edge of the fallen bandage on the couch.

The gentle shift of his weight must have stirred you, because you blinked awake, squinting up at him.

“Kento?” you mumbled groggily, sitting up and instinctively touching your face. When you felt the absence of the bandage, your eyes widened in panic. “Oh no…”

You immediately turned your head away, trying to cover the scar with your hand. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” you muttered, your voice shaky.

Nanami didn’t say anything at first. Instead, he reached out, his hand firm but gentle as he took hold of yours and pulled it away from your face.

“Why do you hide this?” he asked softly, his gaze meeting yours.

You bit your lip, tears pricking your eyes. “Because it’s… hideous. I didn’t want you to see it and think less of me.”

Nanami’s brows furrowed deeply, not in anger but in something closer to frustration—frustration that you’d ever feel the need to hide. “Do you really believe I would think that?” His voice was steady, but there was a rare edge of emotion in it.

“I didn’t know how you’d react,” you admitted quietly.

He sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as his other hand cupped your cheek. “You should know me better than that by now,” he said gently. His thumb hovered just above the scar, his touch careful, almost reverent.

“This doesn’t change how I see you,” he continued. “If anything, it makes me admire you even more. You’ve carried this quietly, and I’m sorry you felt like you had to.”

Your chest tightened, tears spilling over before you could stop them. “I was just scared.”

Nanami leaned in, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. “You don’t need to be. Not with me. I love all of you—the parts you show and the parts you hide. Don’t forget that.”

You let out a shaky laugh, wiping at your tears. “You’re too perfect, you know that?”

He gave a small, rare smile, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m not perfect. But I’ll always make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

In that moment, with his arms wrapped securely around you, you knew he meant every word.

Toji fushiguro — The late-night silence in your apartment was broken only by the clinking of weights as Toji worked out in the corner. You were in the bathroom, carefully rewrapping the bandage around your eyes, as you always did. But tonight, you were tired, your hands unsteady.

The scar you’d hidden for so long was exposed, and you didn’t notice when Toji appeared in the doorway, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Forgot to cover up, huh?” his deep voice rumbled, startling you.

You spun around, your heart racing as you instinctively raised your hand to cover your face. “Toji! I—it’s nothing, just—”

“Cut it out,” he interrupted, his tone casual but firm as he stepped closer. “Let me see.”

You hesitated, torn between trust and fear. “Toji, it’s… ugly. You don’t want to see this.”

He smirked, leaning against the doorframe, his sharp green eyes narrowing slightly. “Ugly, huh? Lemme be the judge of that.”

Before you could protest, he reached out, his calloused hand gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away. His gaze flicked to the scar, studying it with an unreadable expression. For a moment, the silence felt heavy, and you braced yourself for his reaction.

“…That’s it?” he said finally, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean, that’s it?”

He let out a low chuckle, releasing your wrist. “You’ve been hiding this like it’s some big deal. It’s just a scar, babe. What, you think I’d care?”

You felt your cheeks heat, frustration bubbling up. “It’s not just a scar! It’s… it’s a part of my face. People stare, they judge—”

“Yeah, and those people are idiots,” he cut in, his tone blunt but oddly reassuring. He stepped closer, towering over you, his gaze softening just a bit. “Scars mean you’ve been through shit and came out alive. I respect that.”

Your breath hitched, his unexpected sincerity catching you off guard. “You really don’t mind?”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Mind? If anything, it makes you look tougher. Kinda hot, actually.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, a mix of relief and disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” he teased, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, avoiding the scar. His grin faded slightly, replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. “Don’t hide from me, alright? I don’t care what you look like. You’re mine, scars and all.”

You nodded, your heart swelling at his words. “Okay.”

He leaned down, pressing a rough, fleeting kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Good. Now, quit worrying about stupid shit and come help me pick a movie.”

As he walked off, you couldn’t help but smile, feeling lighter than you had in years. Toji’s way with words might not be elegant, but his unflinching loyalty made you feel more loved than ever.

Sukuna ryomen — The lavish chambers of Ryomen Sukuna’s palace were bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight. You sat nervously on a silk cushion near the corner of the room, fingers trembling as you fumbled with the bandage covering the scar on your cheek. It was your first night as his concubine, a position that brought both honor and fear.

You hadn’t even heard him enter the room, his movements silent as a predator’s.

“Why are you hiding your face?” Sukuna’s voice rumbled behind you, low and commanding.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest. Turning your head slightly, you saw him standing a few paces away, his four arms crossed and his crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“I… it’s nothing, my lord,” you stammered, your hands moving instinctively to adjust the bandage.

In two strides, Sukuna closed the distance between you. He crouched before you, his presence overwhelming as he grabbed your wrist with one of his hands, stopping you mid-motion.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his tone sharp but not cruel. “Show me.”

“My lord, it’s not something you wish to see,” you protested, your voice trembling. “It’s… unsightly.”

His eyes narrowed, his grip tightening just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to silence any further objection. With another hand, he reached up and pulled the bandage away, revealing the scar you had hidden for years.

Sukuna’s gaze lingered on the mark, his expression unreadable as he studied it. You held your breath, bracing yourself for ridicule or disgust.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm and tinged with amusement. “You think this is worth hiding?”

You blinked, startled. “It’s… ugly,” you murmured, lowering your gaze.

Sukuna chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Ugly? Foolish woman.” He tilted your chin upward with one of his hands, forcing you to meet his piercing gaze. “This scar tells me more about you than words ever could. It’s a mark of survival—a sign of strength. Why would I find that displeasing?”

Your eyes widened, his words catching you off guard. “You don’t… mind?”

“Mind?” His lips curled into a wicked grin. “If I cared about appearances alone, you wouldn’t be here. You’ve caught my interest for reasons far beyond your looks, though those aren’t lacking either.”

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt words, and Sukuna leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’ve faced something that left its mark. That’s far more intriguing than someone untouched by hardship.”

He released your chin but didn’t step back, his crimson eyes boring into yours. “Let this be the last time you try to hide anything from me. You’re mine now, scars and all. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Good,” he said, standing to his full height. He tossed the bandage aside and smirked down at you. “If anyone dares to insult you, I’ll make an example of them. You belong to me now, and no one questions what’s mine.”

As he turned to leave, the weight of his words settled over you. Sukuna’s love—or whatever his version of affection was—might be as sharp and merciless as a blade, but in his own way, he had claimed every part of you, even the ones you’d long hidden away.

Megumi fushiguro —The rain pattered softly against the windows of the quiet apartment you and Megumi shared. It was late, and the two of you were relaxing after a long day. He was sitting on the couch, a book in hand, while you were in the bathroom, meticulously reapplying the bandage over the scar on your cheek.

You hadn’t told him about it yet—not because you didn’t trust him, but because the scar was a part of your past you weren’t ready to share. But tonight, your hands slipped, and the sound of the bandage falling to the floor startled you.

“Everything okay in there?” Megumi called from the living room, his voice calm but curious.

“Y-yeah,” you replied quickly, scrambling to pick up the bandage.

But when you stepped out, your face uncovered, Megumi’s sharp eyes immediately noticed. His book lowered slightly as his gaze focused on you, the scar catching his attention.

You froze in the doorway, your instinct to hide kicking in. “I… forgot to put the bandage back on,” you muttered, turning your head away.

“Hey,” he said gently, setting the book down and standing up. He approached you slowly, his expression unreadable but not harsh. “You don’t have to hide it.”

“It’s not something I want you to see,” you admitted, avoiding his gaze. “It’s ugly.”

Megumi frowned, a flicker of irritation crossing his face—not at you, but at the thought of you believing such a thing. “That’s not true,” he said firmly, his voice quiet but resolute.

You glanced up at him, surprised. “It’s a scar, Megumi. People stare. They judge.”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently tilt your chin so you couldn’t look away. His touch was soft, almost hesitant, but his eyes were steady as they studied the scar.

“People can be stupid,” he said bluntly, his tone carrying a hint of dry humor. “But I’m not ‘people.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, though it was shaky. “You’re really okay with it?”

He gave you a small, reassuring smile—the kind he didn’t give often, but always meant. “It’s part of you,” he said simply. “And I like you for who you are. Not for some idea of perfection you think you need to be.”

Your heart swelled at his words, tears welling up in your eyes. “Megumi…”

He sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, okay? I mean it.”

You nodded, finally allowing yourself to relax. “Thank you.”

He gave a slight shrug, his typical understated way of brushing off the weight of the moment. “It’s nothing,” he said, though his gaze lingered on you a little longer, his concern evident in the softness of his expression.

As you both settled back into the living room, you couldn’t help but feel a newfound sense of comfort. Megumi’s quiet strength and unwavering acceptance reminded you why you’d fallen for him in the first place.

Yuji itadori — The day had been long, full of missions and meetings, and when you finally returned home, all you wanted was to relax. Yuji was in the kitchen, humming to himself as he worked on preparing dinner. You smiled to yourself, watching him in the doorway for a moment before heading to the bathroom to freshen up.

But just as you stepped in front of the mirror, reaching for your bandage to cover your scar, you didn’t realize that the window was slightly ajar—until a gust of wind blew through, knocking the bandage off the counter and sending it tumbling toward the ground. You leaned down to grab it, but as you straightened up, you heard the soft creak of the bathroom door opening.

“Hey, are you—whoa,” Yuji’s voice broke off, followed by the sound of him quickly stepping back.

You froze, your heart sinking. You hadn’t meant for him to see.

“Yuji, don’t—”

But he was already standing there, his gaze fixed on your face, the scar exposed for the first time. He blinked, his mouth slightly open as he processed the sight. You could feel your cheeks heat up, the vulnerability of the moment overwhelming.

“Why… why didn’t you ever tell me?” Yuji asked softly, his voice full of genuine confusion rather than judgment.

You quickly turned away, your fingers trembling as you reached to grab the bandage. “It’s nothing,” you mumbled, desperately trying to regain some semblance of composure. “It’s just a stupid scar. I didn’t want you to see it, okay?”

Yuji took a few steps forward, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “I don’t get it.” He gently stopped you from putting the bandage back on, his hand lightly brushing against yours. “What’s so bad about it?”

You swallowed hard, still avoiding his gaze. “It’s a part of me I’m not proud of,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t want you to see it because I didn’t think you’d like it. Or me.”

He was silent for a moment, and you almost wished he would say something, anything, to break the tension. But then, when he spoke, his voice was softer than you expected.

“You think I’d stop liking you because of a scar?” Yuji asked, his words almost gentle. “That’s ridiculous.”

You finally looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes. “But it’s not just any scar, Yuji. It’s something I carry with me. A reminder of…” You trailed off, not sure how to explain.

Yuji stepped closer, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over the scar as if he was trying to understand it. “A reminder of what?” he asked, his tone gentle but insistent.

You took a deep breath, fighting back tears. “Of everything I’ve been through. The stuff I wish I could forget.”

His expression softened even further, his grip on your cheek tender as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “You’re still you, scars and all,” he said softly into your ear. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, okay? I’m not going anywhere because of a scar. You’re perfect to me just the way you are.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky breath, finally allowing yourself to relax in his arms. “You really don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” he replied, his voice full of warmth. “Scars tell stories. And yours? It’s part of your story, and that’s important to me.”

You smiled softly, feeling the weight of the secret you’d kept for so long lift from your shoulders. “Thank you, Yuji.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “Now, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure you need to eat too, with all the emotions and stuff going on.”

You chuckled, wiping away the last of your tears. “You’re right.”

Yuji’s easy smile returned as he led you back to the kitchen. Despite everything, you felt lighter than you had in years. With Yuji, there was no need for hiding anymore.

[evaslytherpuff]

Press Play: Part 2

18+ Theo Nott X Innocent F!Reader (College AU)

Plot: You were just trying to do your duties as a Prefect. After catching Theo stealing from the potions closet, you had no choice but to report him. Now, Theo is out for revenge! You become his latest target and he’s willing to do anything to make sure you learn your lesson. Never snitch on a Slytherin.🐍

CW: Blackmail, Toxic Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Manipulation, Mirror Sex, Teasing, Biting, Spanking (a smidge), Fingering, Tit F***ing, Oral (M!receiving), Dub-Con, Recorded interactions without consent! This story is not intended for Minors! Read at your own risk!

You showed up at his dorm exactly at 9pm the following night. He opened the door for you like a gentleman and you slowly stepped inside. He had prepared for your arrival hours ahead of time, making sure everything was perfectly in place, setting up his hidden camera once again. He had spent most of his day secretly watching you, studying you and your activities, trying his best to learn more about you. He thought you were a loner, at first, until he found out you have a small group of friends. He didn’t know any of them but there was one that kinda…irked him. A guy that seemed to be trying to get close to you. Theo couldn’t help but laugh at the fool. You were completely oblivious to the guy’s advances and ignored him when he tried to flirt with you. It gave Theo a rush, especially after what happened last night.

“How was your day?” He asked as you stood in the middle of the room. It took you a moment to notice his latest addition. Your brows drew together as you stared at your reflection in the full length mirror positioned along his wall.

“It was fine…until now. What’s the mirror for?” You asked softly.

“You’ll see. Strip for me, Bella.” He demanded with a firm but gentle tone as he moved to stand behind you.

You let out a shuddered breath as you kept your eyes locked on your own face in the mirror in front of you.

“Theo…I really am sorry for snitching on you. I hope you know that.” You pursed your lips as you removed your robe and let it flutter to the floor.

“I know, but I faced expulsion because of you. I forgive you but…I still want this. No matter what you say.” He whispered in your ear and your eyes shut in defeat.

You slowly removed your top to expose the undergarments you chose to wear for tonight and Theo smiled to himself as he took in your reflection. You kicked off your shoes but then hesitated to remove your skirt, your hands hovering over the zipper at your lower back. Theo took a few steps closer to you and pressed his body against yours. He reached down to pinch the zipper of your skirt and undo it himself. He wasn’t in the mood for hesitation and needed to see you completely bare for him as soon as possible.

His eyes bored into yours as you both stared into the mirror. He swallowed hard as his gaze roamed over every inch of your tantalizing body. Red. The color you chose to wear under your uniform was bright and vibrant. It screamed look at me and he was definitely drinking you in.

“That’s such a beautiful color on you.” The timbre in his voice tickled your ear and you shivered against him, your nipples growing stiff through the fabric of your bra. You decided to wear a silk demi-cup with pretty ruffles along the edges and a skimpy red thong to match. Your black knee high stockings added the cherry on top to your alluring appearance. Theo pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. He needed to feel your skin pressed against his.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day. I know exactly what I want to do tonight.” He murmured against your temple as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. You turned your face away from him and he chuckled.

“So shy, I fucking love it. You look so sexy tonight. Did you get all dressed up for me?” He asked teasingly.

“N—no! I—I dress up for myself sometimes. It makes me feel good. It’s…a way to build my confidence.” You said proudly with your chin jutting out.

“Well then, I’m glad you chose to be confident tonight.” He shifted to drag his knuckles along your spine and you gasped, arching away from him. He continued to caress up and down your back and watched as your eyes closed in bliss. His fingers trailed down to unclasp your bra then back up over your arms to pull down the silky straps. The material fell from your body and became another piece of decoration on his bedroom floor. He moved in closer and palmed the back of your head, tilting it forward. You were staring at the carpet now and your body was trembling in anticipation. He kissed the back of your neck as his hands snaked around your body to cup your breasts. You moaned softly as you clenched your hands into little fists. He continued to kiss and leave wet trails with his tongue down your spine. His hands and fingers were busy playing with your displayed tits. He got down on his knees behind you and kissed your lower back from hip to hip. He placed a long and firm kiss below your tailbone and you moaned loudly.

“That guy you hang out with…are you interested in him?” He asked as he breathed against your skin.

You hesitated to answer him so he gripped your breasts even harder, making you yelp.

“I—I don’t know. He’s…he has always been nice to me but…I’m not sure he’s what I want.” You murmured as you wiggled in his hands.

“What do you want? Do you even know, Bella?” Theo asked as he released your pretty chest and ran his palms down your body then stopped at your hips. He used his fingertips to toy and tease the waistband of your panties.

“I want…excitement. I want passion. It’s something…that I’ve always desired.” You whimpered as he yanked your thong down to your ankles.

“He can’t provide that for you. Even I can see that.” Theo growled against the flesh of your ass.

“Do you think I want blackmail? I’m here…because if I’m not…you’ll release that video of me.” Your fists were still clenched and your jaw joined them in tension.

“That’s correct. But…judging by your lust filled reactions…I’d say you want this very much. If he flirts with you. Turn him down! Do you understand?” Theo asked abruptly as he bit into your plump ass cheek. You cried out and tried to push him away but he held you firmly by your hips. He yanked you close to him again and delivered a swift slap to your other cheek. He looked at the bite mark he left behind as he stood up to wrap his fingers around your neck and pull you against his body, his erection digging into your back. You fought against him, your nails digging into his forearm, but he noticed the slick arousal dripping down your thighs in the mirror.

“Wh—why? Are you—jealous, Theo?” You snarled through gritted teeth and he laughed.

“No. I just don’t want that fucker to ruin my plans with you.” He sneered.

“You’re sick! You know that right?” You scowled as he leaned in to kiss your jaw then lick down your neck, stopping at your shoulder.

“Maybe so, but I’d say you’re pretty sick too, Cara Mia.” He grinned wickedly as his eyes dipped to your wet pussy.

“I’m not! I would have this reaction with anyone! It’s perfectly natural!” You growled and struggled against him but his free hand slid down the front of your body and his fingers slipped between your soaked folds. You whined as he pulled you closer and forced you to stare into the mirror.

“Look at what I do to you. You’re like this because of me…and you know it.” He smirked cockily as you scowled at both of your reflections showcased in the mirror. You grew quiet and didn’t argue, you just chose not to look at him again. He was starting to learn your habits. You wouldn’t look at him every time he was right. This was fine by him. The less arguing, the better.

He kissed your temple as his thumb rubbed against your pulse and his other fingers continued to stroke and tease your aching cunt. More of your juices traveled down your legs as you writhed against him and bit back moans. He pressed his body into yours and pushed you further towards the mirror. Theo turned your head so you were forced to look at your reflection.

“If you don’t want to look at me, at least watch yourself, Tesoro.” He breathed against you before nibbling on your earlobe. You swallowed hard against his palm but still refused to open your eyes. He sighed heavily with a slight shake of his head then pinched your clit between two of his fingers, making you cry out. Your eyes flashed open in an instant and blinked rapidly over what you were seeing. His fingers were working you into a dripping mess, his other hand was wrapped comfortably around your throat, and your body was perfectly flushed with arousal.

“Look at you. So fucking gorgeous. Every inch of you is delectable, it drives me wild, your body is absolutely beautiful. While you’re with me, don’t ever hide that.” He released your neck to wrap his arm firmly around your chest and added more pressure to your pussy with his diligent fingers. You moaned loudly and tossed your head back against his shoulder. He took this open opportunity and started to kiss and suck on your exposed neck. He groaned and snarled against your skin as he pulled you even tighter into his body. He worked his fingers from your clit to your aching entrance and back up again. His strokes became more aggressive while he picked up his pace. Your mouth was hung open as you started to tremble. Theo was sure that you would be on the floor right now if he wasn’t holding you up. Your moans and whimpers had his cock twitching in his pants and he was trying desperately to restrain himself.

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from your soaked pussy and pulled you down with him to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. You were wedged between his legs and he placed both of his hands under your knees to spread your thighs open to show off your pretty cunt.

“Would you look at that…so damned beautiful.” He whispered in your ear as he rested his head on your shoulder. Now, he had a perfect view of everything he wanted to see as you sat in front of him.

“Show me…how you touch yourself.” He demanded as your eyes grew wide.

“What?” You asked in surprise.

“What? You thought I would help you finish? Ah ah ah, Sweetheart. You’re going to please yourself…for me.” He grinned before gently pressing his lips to your neck. Your pulse was clearly pounding as you gulped due to his request. You shut your eyes and sighed before moving a shaky hand to your wet pussy. You were so hesitant but he decided that he wouldn’t push you and would let you go at your own pace. Your fingers dipped to your entrance before you slid them back up to your clit. You repeated these motions at a slow and steady pace, biting your lip as you watched yourself in the mirror.

“Just pretend I’m not here. Let go and don’t hold back, Bella.” He cooed against the damp skin of your neck. You appeared to be eager to listen to him because your fingers started to tease your pussy even faster. Theo’s hand moved to grasp your hip while the other reached around to toy and pluck at your nipples.

“I—I thought—you weren’t helping.” You moaned as you dipped two fingers into your core and began to fuck your own hand. You used your thumb to rub and stimulate your clit and Theo was riveted by your enthusiasm. His cock was achingly hard, dripping precum in his pants, as he watched you plunge your fingers in and out of your tight hole. Your head thrashed against his shoulder as you came around your fingers with a cry of pleasure.

Theo’s mind was in a whirlwind. He wanted to throw you to the floor and ruin you, fuck you so hard and deep that you couldn’t walk afterwards. He knew, deep down inside, he couldn’t do that. Not just yet. He was having way too much fun with you and didn’t want to rush this.

You sat there catching your breath as he stood up behind you. He tugged down his pants and smiled in relief once his aching cock was free from its confinement. Your eyes practically bulged from your pretty head when you noticed his naked body in the mirror. You covered your eyes as you turned bright red and he couldn’t help but chuckle. That’s right! You didn’t get to truly see him the last time, he was kneeling on the floor after all.

“What’s the matter, Tesoro?” He teased and pet the top of your head while you blushed and kept your face covered.

“You…you’re um. Big.” You mumbled through your palms and he grinned.

“Don’t worry. I’m still going easy on you. I won’t take your virginity…yet.” He smirked as he crossed to his bed and grabbed a few pillows. He placed them on the floor beside you and noticed how you gingerly removed your hands from your eyes and tilted your head a little to watch his movements. Curious little kitten, he thought. He even laid down a blanket to make things more comfortable for you. Afterwards, he moved behind you once more and placed his hands on your shoulders. He helped you lie down on the makeshift bed and stood over you, your eyes wide with wonder. He kneeled down on the floor to straddle your quivering body and smirked when he noticed your frantic breathing.

“Wh—what are you going to do?” You asked timidly.

“Just trust me.” He reached forward to hold your jaw in his hand and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, Nott and that isn’t very far.” You huffed and all he could do was laugh.

“My, what attitude! Let’s see how long that lasts tonight, Bella.” He sneered as he pushed you down onto the pillows. You gawked as he gently sat on your torso, placing his stiff cock on your chest.

“Do as I say, Tesoro. Push your tits together. Press them against my cock.” His voice was husky and leaden with lust as he watched you obey and enfold his length with your breasts. He smiled down at you with arrogance and power running through his veins before he spit on your boobs. You frowned but didn’t protest as he started to rock his hips against your body. Your tits felt glorious against his throbbing dick and his head fell back on his shoulders with a drawn out moan. He increased his movements and took in how you were starting to get into the thrilling situation. Your eyes were locked on the head of his cock as it disappeared then presented itself again between your boobs. Your hands began to squeeze and fondle your chest as you licked your lips. This sight alone made him want to spill all over you but he held back. It’s too soon, I need more!

He spit down where your bodies met once more and began to thrust into your breasts even faster. You were riveted by his movements as you rubbed and toyed with your own nipples. He smirked down at you between panting breaths as he pried your mouth open with his thumb.

“Keep it open, Bella. Suck…on my cock…as I fuck…your pretty tits!” He ground out between the rocking of his hips. He snatched up an extra pillow and leaned forward a bit to place it under your head with the others to prop you up even more. He continued to ride your chest but now, each time his cock revealed itself between your boobs, the aching and dripping head entered your awaiting mouth. You were unsure of yourself at first but after a few moments, you sucked on him eagerly, moving your breasts against him all on your own as he stilled his hips. He was in awe of you and caressed your cheek as you continued to suck him off. Would it be so bad if she was…mine? He thought as he gazed into your heavy lidded eyes.

He released your face to lean back slightly and run his fingers through your delicate folds. You moaned loudly around the head of his cock as he continued to buck into your hungry mouth. He inserted one finger and you released him with a pop, your breath’s growing frantic.

“Theo…more, please!” You begged as you worked your hips against his hand, your wet pussy soaking his finger. He nodded with a groan and increased the pace of his thrusts and his fingers.

“Fuck, yes! Ke—keep going, Tesoro! Open that pretty mouth wide for me!” Theo growled through gritted teeth, delving his finger even deeper into your dripping cunt. He found your sweet spot and curled his finger inside your clenching heat while his thumb rubbed circles over your clit. Your moans were wild and became in sync with his as they echoed through the room. Things felt absolutely amazing yet so out of control. The bucking of his hips against your tits, the feel of your mouth over the head of his cock, the way your pussy squeezed his finger. The entire moment was mind blowing and Theo felt like something inside himself was about to crack. He was becoming addicted to you and knew that if he continued down this path…it would be devastating…for everyone.

“Dammit, Theo! I’m gonna—I’m gonna cum!” You cried out as you came around his finger. Your nails dug into the flesh of your perfect boobs as your climax hit you in waves. Your sweaty body convulsed under him and the look in your eyes had him stuffing his soaked fingers into his mouth and using the other to reach around and hold the back of your head as he spilled into your mouth. He never took his eyes off of you as he pumped his load down your throat, his growls and pants muffling your sounds of surprise. Once he was sure he was spent, he pulled his cock from between your swollen lips. He rolled off of your chest and decided to lay beside you. You gulped then wiped your lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“Good, you swallowed it all, Mia gattina. Theo said proudly as he rolled to his side. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his exhausted body but you were staring daggers into him.

“Are you—are you trying to cuddle?” You jolted away from him but he held you firmly in place.

“So what if I am? Are you…protesting?” He narrowed his eyes at you and you quickly shook your head, knowing what would happen if you refused him. He curled up on the floor with you and buried his face in your hair. What was it about you that made him want you so badly? It seemed to be developing into more than just sex and he didn’t know how he felt about that. It was all very confusing. You also didn’t seem genuinely interested in him which he thought was crazy. Sure he was blackmailing you, but he treated you like a goddess when you were with him. He wanted you to feel good. These conflicting feelings weren’t him. He was usually cold and detached. He’d sleep with a girl and call it a night but you…he wanted to keep coming back for more.

“Let's get you cleaned up. Come with me.” Theo stood up and reached his hand out to you. You reluctantly slipped your hand into his with a roll of your eyes. He chuckled as he helped you get up from the floor and escorted you into his bathroom. Your eyes roamed the small space as you moved to hug yourself while he prepared the shower for you. You reached down to slip off your stockings and Theo smiled over his shoulder.

“How…do you have all of this?” You asked softly as you tested the water’s temperature to see if it was to your liking.

“Money talks, Bella. Even at Hogwarts. I paid extra for a private dorm. I got tired of sharing one with the guys, I needed…privacy.” Theo shrugged as you stepped into the shower stall then he followed behind you.

“Wait! You’re getting in with me?” You gasped as he slid the glass door shut. He simply nodded and reached for a washcloth that was hanging behind you. He quickly lathered it up with soap and you flinched as he turned you around and pressed his chest against your back. He dragged the cloth between your breasts and proceeded to clean your body for you. Theo couldn’t fight the feelings that were washing over him along with the warm water. This was just supposed to be blackmail, a way for him to enjoy himself with you with no strings attached, but here he was…growing fond of you. You, being here with him, it felt…right. Your shower together was slow and sensual and a part of Theo thought that you actually might have enjoyed yourself. He made sure he took his time, even kissing your skin occasionally as he helped you bathe.

After your shower, the two of you dried off and got dressed in silence. Theo wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He felt tongue tied for the first time in his life. Again, situations like this didn’t happen to him. You were devastating in the most intoxicating way. If he was starting to feel some sort of connection…were you as well?

“Theo?” Your voice cut through the silence as you moved to stand in front of his bedroom door.

“Yes, Cara Mia?” He asked as he joined you, his tall frame leaning over yours.

“What did you need the ingredients for?” You inquired softly as you played with a damp curl framing your face nervously. He chewed the inside of his lip then sighed heavily before answering your question.

“I came across a wounded thestral near the woods. Something must have attacked it and left it for dead. I knew the potion I had to brew I just…didn’t have the ingredients. When I was finally able to go back and check on it, the thestral was gone. I don’t know if it’s alive…or dead.” He shrugged and you continued to fidget with your hair, this time out of guilt.

“I—I’m so sorry, Theo. Like I said, I should have asked you what you needed the ingredients for. I feel even more awful now.” You grumbled and scratched the side of your head, hiding your face from him.

“Hey, these things happen. It’s just fate. Now look at us, maybe you were supposed to snitch on me.” He smirked as he opened his door for you. You shook your head and bit your lip.

“It’s still overwhelming. Also…eye opening.” You shrugged with a blush, your thoughts clearly recalling what happened tonight.

“Well well…are you discovering what you’re into?” He grinned and you just shrugged even more.

“Maybe…” You laughed awkwardly before stepping out into the hall. “I’ll um see you tomorrow.” You smiled sheepishly before turning to leave.

“See you tomorrow.” Theo waved you goodbye as he watched you walk away this time.

Once he lost sight of you, he shut his door and released a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. He strode over to his hidden camera and shut it off. He had three videos of you now and was hoping to add more to his collection. He got a sick rush from the blackmailing, he was starting to feel things that left him confused and frustrated, his mind felt completely flayed at this point. One thing he was absolutely sure of…his overwhelming desire to own you.

(He’s watching you leave.😉)

A/N: Theo is only going to get worse from here.🫣

Taglist: @mommynott @nottsangel @theeslutintheroom @underthenightskydreamsneverdie @helendeath @2dloveshp @whiteboylover222 @cookiesex115 @enchantingpiratepeace @littlepippilongstocking @trishatanisha @hhhhhhhilensfghn

If I missed anyone in the tags, please let me know!❤️

[darlinluxx]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑’𝐒 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ

pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : mentions of alcohol

summary : you and your girlfriend celebrate new years

a/n : let’s ignore how this is days late 😭 i had this fic wrote and then tumblr didn’t save it so i had to rewrite it but i think this version is better

if you have any requests, feel free to message me <3

𝐓he biting Seoul wind whips around you, tugging at the scarf you’ve wrapped tightly around your neck. but you barely notice the chill. your heart is a warm ember in your chest, fueled by the bright neon lights of the city and the hand clasped securely in yours. it’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re walking hand in hand with Saebyeok, the woman whose quiet strength and unwavering gaze have completely captivated you.

as you navigate the bustling crowds, snippets of conversations and laughter float around you, but your focus is solely on Saebyeok. you feel the rough pad of her thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that speaks volumes. you glance at her profile, the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp catching the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the determined set of her jaw softening just a fraction as she looks down at you.

“cold?” she murmurs, her voice a low rumble that seems to vibrate through you.

“a little,” you admit with a soft smile, “but not with you here.”

she doesn’t respond verbally, but her fingers tighten around yours, and the corners of her mouth quirk upwards in a subtle, rare smile that always leaves you breathless.

you push through the crowds towards the river, the air becoming crisp and clean as you leave the more congested streets behind. the river stretches out before you, a dark mirror reflecting the dazzling fireworks that have already begun to paint the night sky with bursts of vibrant color.

you find a relatively secluded spot by the river, a little hidden alcove away from the main throng of people. Saebyeok pulls you closer, her body a comforting warmth against yours. she leans against a tree, and you nestle yourself beside her, grateful for the solidness of her presence.

the first fireworks explode overhead — a shower of gold and crimson light that illuminates her face, making her eyes gleam like polished obsidian. you watch her, almost mesmerized, as she calmly takes it all in. there’s a quiet intensity about her, a stoic grace that makes her seem somehow untouched by the chaos around you.

“they’re pretty,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, the words meant for her alone.

Saebyeok turns her head, her gaze locking with yours. there’s a depth in her eyes that always make you want to lose yourself, a hint of vulnerability that she rarely shows the world.

“yeah,” she replies, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “they are.”

silence falls between you, comfortable and easy. you stand side by side, watching the fireworks erupt in a breathtaking display of light and sound. the air is thick with the smell of gunpowder and alcohol, and the cheers of the crowd in the distance create a vibrant backdrop to this private moment you share.

you lean your head against her shoulder, feeling the solid muscle beneath her jacket. it’s a simple gesture, but it brings you a sense of peace and belonging that you never thought possible. you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling the familiar scent of her — a mix of leather and something indefinably her — and a profound sense of happiness that washes over you.

as the clock ticks closer to midnight, the fireworks reach a crescendo, a chaotic symphony of color and light. you feel Saebyeok shift, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hand. it’s a small, unconscious gesture, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your entire being.

“happy New Year,” she murmurs, her voice husky.

you open your eyes and turn to face her, the light from the final burst of fireworks reflecting in her dark eyes. a smile stretches across your face, a genuine smile full of happiness and gratitude.

“happy New Year, Sae,” you reply, your voice a little breathless.

and as the final firework fades away, leaving behind the soft glow of the city lights, Saebyeok leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. it’s a gentle kiss, full of tenderness and unspoken promises, a moment that seals the start of a new year, a new chapter, a new beginning with the woman you love. the cold fades away completely, replaced by the warmth of her touch, the promise of a future held in her gaze. the city may be celebrating, but in that quiet alcove beneath the fireworks, your heart is already overflowing. this year, you know, everything will be alright. as long as you’re near Saebyeok.