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#Long story short: please speak for yourself
falling-mellow · 1 month
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Mel's yet another reminder to please stop telling other people what to do.
There will be people that don't want to watch ESC. This is perfectly fine. You totally have this right of own choice.
But so do the people that do want to watch. I don't know if I can say 'we', but I think(?) we are not forcing not-watchers to watch. So please also don't force watchers not to watch.
Stop calling people that do want to watch names, bad things, and just let them make their own choice for themselves.
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audisive · 2 months
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♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part
౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader
synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.
tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold
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       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.
It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).
The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.
Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.
There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–
"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.
You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.
"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.
You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."
"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.
"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.
"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.
"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"
Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.
Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.
Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.
(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)
Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."
"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.
"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.
"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."
There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."
"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."
The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.
On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.
He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.
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mariinaworld · 1 month
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PORNSTAR
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Pornstar! Natasha Romanoff x F! Reader
Summary: After a drunken night at a nightclub, you discover that you have signed a contract that will change your life.
WC: 6,2k (sorry)
Warnings: SMUT, masturbation, riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex. Nat has a penis.
MINORS DNI MASTERLIST N.R
English is not my first language, so I apologize for any spelling mistakes
A/n: I'm really thinking about writing a part.2. idk
Your head felt like it was going to explode, as you tried to take another breath without having the urge to stick your entire stomach out.
Why did you drink so much like that?
Nice question, Y/n, No good answers 
You open your eyes again, feeling the fluorescent light in the bathroom slowly burn your corneas. But it was necessary. You had already thrown out everything you had drunk the night before, an your stomach felt raw, your throat was burning and you were afraid that if you tried to vomit again, blood would start coming out of my mouth.
You slowly stand up and flush the toilet, looking in the mirror for the first time that day. Holy shit, you looked terrible! Your eyeliner and mascara had created a black bag under your eyes, your red lipstick was smeared around your mouth, making you hate this twenty-four hour crap.
Well, your appearance was shit both on the outside and inside, his whole life was shit.
“End of story for you, Y/n!” You mutter to yourself, looking in the mirror.
You decide to stand there, seeing the image of your own destruction, it wouldn't do any good. Then you remove all your makeup and brush your teeth. Soon after, she takes off the short dress she was still wearing and goes under the shower, feeling the cold water hurt every pore of her hot skin. But it was necessary, you had to get rid of that nasty hangover
After showering, you leave the bathroom, finding Wanda lying on the sofa in your room. She was as bad as you were, but that made you smile a little. You really had the best friend in the world
After getting dressed, you take two headache pills and head back to your room, refusing any thoughts of eating since your stomach was still wanting you to look like you were sick. You lay down on the bed and close your eyes, feeling the slow and steady throbbing in your head, as unconsciousness took over you again.
“Let’s wake up, Princess .” Oh no... Wanda was jumping on top of her bed, making her sleepy body bounce lightly on the mattress.Hurry up, Y/n, we have to talk about last night, you naughty girl.”
You open your eyes and look at her, you sit up and let out a long sigh, feeling your head throbbing much less than before.
“Naughty? Why?" You ask leaning against the headboard. She sat on the bed and looked at you, giggling. Okay, that was an inside joke and you were lost there. “Speak quickly, I don’t have my whole life!” You say feeling a little nervous. “Such a bad mood, dear... Is that because of the hangover?” Wanda asked, laughing. You just roll your eyes and wait. “Ah, be serious, Y/n... Are you going to say you don’t remember last night?”
“I remember, of course. I remember stuffing my face with everything alcoholic. In fact, never let me do that again, please!” You say, making a face as you have slight memories. “Okay, what about the rest?” “What’s left?” You ask again
She looked at me with her smile slowly fading.
“The contract and everything Y/n…”
“What contract?” Okay now you think things got confusing
Just as Wanda was about to open her mouth to respond, her cell phone rang loudly, making you both jump in bed. You picked up your cell phone from the bedside table, seeing the unknown number on the screen. With a frown, you answer 
Call on...
“Miss Y/n?” you hear a female voice. "Yes, who is it?" You ask with a frown.
“Hello darling, this is Carol Danvers from PornHub. Do you remember me?"
PornHub... What the fuck was that? Upon hearing her silence, Carol spoke again. “We met yesterday at the Dance Hot Club nightclub... You were accompanied by your friend and we talked for a few hours. Do you remember me now?”
“Um...I remember, of course.” You let your voice sound as polite as possible. But it was obvious that you didn't remember. "What do you want?" You ask feeling a strange feeling. “I wanted to know when we can meet to schedule your first scene.”
"My first... What?”
“Your first scene, baby. With our biggest star of the moment, Natasha Romanoff.”
“I don't... Who is Natasha Romanoff? Scene... I don't understand anything, Mrs. Danvers.” You say, just wanting to know what that crazy woman was getting out of that conversation.
“Just Carol, darling. Anyway, we signed a contract last night. You were so excited to record with Natasha. I don’t think you remember everything.”
You caught a glimpse of Wanda getting up and picking up the small wallet I had brought the night before. She took out a white paper from inside her, which was folded and crumpled, picked it up and opened it, pasting it in front of you.
“Um... One second, Carol!” you ask, taking the paper.
Okay, it really was a contract, you think to yourself. A contract with a porn film production company. It was written that the new hire would be paid for each scene, she would act with the actor/actress that the producer chose. Before each scheduled scene, a blood test would be done by both actors, and it was essential that the contractor had birth control and proved this to the producer. The contract had the duty to compensate both parties, if something went wrong, all labor rights would be fulfilled, as soon as the contract was signed by both parties (contractor and employee).
Everything became even more absurd when at the end of the sheet you saw Carol's signature as contractor and your signature as contractor. Wanda's signature was there as a witness to the deal.
“What the hell is that?" You think out loud. Hearing Carol's laugh on the other end of the line. She was having a lot of fun at her expense, it seemed.
“Honey, I see you’re a little confused. Dance Hot Club is my nightclub. She is linked to PornHub, which is my production company. Few people are aware of this connection, I believe you are one of the many people who didn't even imagine it. It turns out that I'm quite observant, I love seeing all my regulars and whoever I think has potential for a film, I call to talk to me. You have potential and I know it. I talked to you and you accepted. You signed the contract and now we have to schedule not only the scene, but also the blood tests to see if you have any STDs and the birth control test, which you said you have.”
Your mind stopped at the part where she said you had the potential to be a porn actress. Was that woman crazy?
“No fucking way!” You say it out loud, regretting it later. “I mean… I’m not going to make a scene!”
“Y/n, you signed the contract. I don’t know if you have it in your hands, but there is a point where it shows the value stipulated for breaking it.” she said in a serious tone.
You take the contract and search it from top to bottom, finding a paragraph that she had said. One hundred thousand dollars.
That was all you would have to pay if you broke the damn contract.
"You are crazy? One hundred thousand dollars in breach of contract?”
“It’s my rights, darling.”
"You can not do that! You... You took advantage of a moment when I was fragile and completely drunk! I can sue you, you know that?”
"Of course. Y/n, you might be a little high, but I have nothing to do with that, honey. The contract was signed and that's what matters. When can we…”
You hung up 
You wanted to kill yourself!
“Is there any way you can stop pacing from one side to the other? It’s making me dizzy.”  Wanda says 
“How did you let me sign such rubbish? You are crazy?" You say almost shouting. “How did you let me do that?!”
“Now, Y/n, it’s not the end of the world... It’s just a scene with the hottest star in the porn world!” You look at Wanda confused, you didn't imagine she would meet this Natasha and you have no idea who she is.
In the end, you and Wanda spend the rest of the day watching interviews, reading about life and the main thing, seeing how Natasha acts in front of the cameras and holy God, you freeze. She was nothing like you imagined, the redhead's beauty certainly exceeded any expectations you could create, one of them was, Natasha has a penis, It should really shock you but somehow you're more turned on by it. In the video you are watching now, Natasha punches another actress firmly, making her scream with pleasure while at the height of her orgasm, Since Natasha has already made her cum three times in the same video, is this possible? When the video ends, you release the breath you were holding during the entire video. Wanda looks at you with a “you lucky girl” look but also with a “I feel sorry for you this is over” look.
The only thing that goes through your head is that you won't make it. But you also think that a hundred thousand dollars is way beyond what you can afford, so there's only one option left. Picking up the phone again you dial the number that called you an hour ago.
“Hey Carol… Let’s get this over with.”
Time Skip
PornHub was located in a luxurious building in downtown Los Angeles and, from the outside, it looked like just another one of those steel and glass buildings. The atmosphere in the hall does not represent in any way what was happening inside those high floors and you admit that you were curious not to come across a screen with pornographic images, or with various sexual objects displayed on the walls.
A smiling blonde woman welcomed you and instructed you two catching the elevator and go straight to the twentieth floor, where Carol 's office was. Wanda was completely anxious and you were increasingly irritated as you pushed your sunglasses closer and closer to your eyes. You just wanted to get rid of the whole situation.
On the twentieth floor, another smiling blonde accompanied you to Carol's office, which was decorated entirely in shades of white and beige. Well, in her office reality hit her in the face, while several paintings with covers of films produced by the producer adorned the walls and some awards shone in shiny gold on the shelves.
“Y/n, it’s good to see you. I love punctual people.” she smiled and pointed to the chair in front of his desk. “Sit down, darlings. Would you like to drink something?”
You looked at Wanda and she shook her head, as did you. With a wave, Carol allowed the smiling blonde to leave her room.
“So... Did you bring everything I asked for?”
You, trying hard not to roll your eyes, opened your bag and took out the white envelopes you had brought with you. She took them and took their exams, calmly evaluating them.
“Perfect, Y/n, just like you knew it would be!” she smiled even more. “Honey, you used to be more talkative.”
“I’m mentally training myself to be able to moan enough in your film.” You say smiling ironically.
A loud laugh invaded the entire office, while a door on his right side opened. Natasha Romanoff.
She was beautiful…
“What an incredible sense of humor, Carol. I love girls like that!” Natasha said, without wiping the smile off her face. “I’m sorry, ladies, I was in the bathroom and I couldn’t help but overhear.” approaching, she stopped next to you and held out her hand. “Natasha Romanoff. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Y/n. I was curious to know who the girl was that was giving my dear friend headaches.”
“Y/n.” You say shaking the redhead's hand quickly. But she surprised you by kissing your hand lightly. “It was not my intention to give anyone headaches. If your friend had followed my suggestion, none of this would have happened.”
She looked you up and down, a crooked smile taking over her lips. Her mouth suddenly went dry and, holy shit, you felt her intimacy throb.
“Good thing she didn’t follow your suggestion.” She smiled completely and turned around, stopping next to a completely open-mouthed Wanda. “And who would you be?”
“Wanda Maximoff, um... Just Wanda.” She said, giving a huge smile.
“It’s nice to meet you too, Wanda.” Natasha said and walked away, pulling out the chair and sitting next to you.
“Well, now that my two actresses are together, we can discuss everything more clearly.” She said, smiling slightly. “I know about Natasha’s objections, now I want to know your objections Y/n.”
“My... What?.” You ask confused.
“Objections, Detka... What do you accept or not do…” Natasha says looking firmly at you.
“Ahh…” you mumble.
What did you agree to do? What did you not agree to do? Damn, you didn't know how to do that!
"I will help you." Natasha said, catching his attention. “Anal sex?”
"Never did it. And I certainly don’t want to face a bunch of people!” You say, frowning. Just the idea made you feel sick.
“Okay, Carol is writing everything down.” She said, looking back at you. “Giving and receiving oral sex?”
Holy shit, what an uncomfortable situation you think.
You're not shy, but talking to a woman I've never met in your life about whether you give or receive oral sex is too much for you. But everything is fine… A single scene, and all of this would be buried deep in your memory!
"Yes." You mutter, wanting to look away, but simply not being able to, Natasha had you completely trapped.
"Excellent." she smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Any problems with touching your body or touching my body somewhere…?” You just shake your head no.
“Well, I guess that's all. Are you free tomorrow, Y/n?”
“To... record the scene?” Carol stated, shaking her head. "I am…"
"Perfect! Ten o’clock in the morning here, right?” You agree, letting out a sigh as you stand up.
You shake hands formally and before you can do the same to Natasha, she takes your hand and kisses it again. Come on, was she charming with all the women she worked with? You wonder.
Not that it was any of your business, of course.
“I'm looking forward to tomorrow, Detka." she smiled and shook his hand. "See you tomorrow"
"See you tomorrow " looking at her one last time, before turning your back and leaving her presence, which, in a way, tormented you and made your panties damp.
Natasha could define you in a single word: hot.
Beautiful, full mouth, a delicious ass and breasts that were certainly natural. Not to mention your charisma and incredible sense of humor.
Natasha was sure that you would make a great duo and I couldn't wait to be on the scene with you below her, or on top, any position 
Natasha parks her motorcycle in the company's garage.
“Fifteen minutes early? You’re always punctual Nat, but fifteen minutes early surprises me.” said Carol when she saw Natasha getting out of the elevator.
She had a smile on the corner of her lips and her eyebrow was arched. That woman knew Natasha very well and that was terrible.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’ll pretend I don’t know why you arrived early. Y/n is in dressing room number 8, just so you know.”
Carol winked at Natasha and walked away without giving the redhead a chance to respond. Natasha knew that you were a little anxious about the scene you were going to do in a little while, but what woman on earth wouldn't be? With a smile playing at the corner of her lips, the redhead heads to the dressing room and knocks on the door, receiving a "come in" in response.
You were wearing a white robe and your brown hair was loose, looking more casual. Natasha suppresses the urge to look her up and down and enters, closing the door behind you.
“I came to see how you’re feeling, Detka.” Natasha says, walking over to you and sitting next to her on the couch.
“How kind of you.” You rolled your eyes, making the redhead laugh. “I don’t understand the joke, Miss. Romanoff.”
“Just, Natasha, Y/n. And the grace is in you. Relax, okay? I don’t bite… Unless you want to, of course.” Natasha says, looking straight into her eyes.
You bit your lip, something Natasha is sure you at least knew you were doing. She affected you, and that made the redhead very happy.
"You are nervous. I want you to know that you don't have to stay. I know this is very new for you, I know you wouldn't want to be here, but now that you are, try to enjoy the moment.”
Natasha approaches you and takes your hands, kissing them one at a time. “I won’t leave room for you to think about where you are, or your surroundings, Y/n. When I'm inside you, or touching you, kissing you, there will be just you and me. You’re going to have to trust me.”
"Trust in you? I at least know you, Natasha.” You muttered, looking away from the redhead's.
“But this is the opportunity to get to know each other. Look at me, Y/n.” you turned and looked at her suspiciously and Natasha fought not to laugh. “You are a beautiful woman, sexy as hell and you will do great. Trust me and you will come out of here floating. I’m going to make you cum, babe… Countless times.”
You looked at the redhead intensely and soon after, a loud, sarcastic laugh escaped your lips, as you took your hands away from hers and placed one in front of your mouth.
“Are you going to make me cum? Seriously, Natasha! Do you really think that all women in the world are stupid enough to believe that a girl cums in a porn movie? Or to the point of believing what you said in that interview, that you always make a woman orgasm?” You shake your head, still laughing. “I'm not like your... Fans, or whatever you call women who almost lick the ground you walk on. I don’t believe this ridiculous story, okay?”
“Um... So you've been researching me?” Natasha asks, leaning back on the couch. “That's great, I really love acting alongside or meeting, girls who know who they're dealing with. This means, Y/n, that what you read is completely true. I have a lot of baby baggage and that baggage has brought me a lot, a lot of experience.” Natasha gets up, but before turning to leave, she stops in front of you and leans in, making you feel her breath on your face. “I'm willing to show you all my experience when you're beneath me, while I fuck you and make you moan my name loud and clear.”
The redhead felt you catch your breath and she knew at that moment that you weren't such an easy woman to look at. And all of this was only making the redhead's lust for you grow in a way that she couldn't control.
Natasha's words still echoed in your mind, as you looked at yourself in the mirror and felt a flash pop next to you. Photo after photo was taken of you, while wearing lacy shorts and a blue blouse, clothes that showed enough, and still left gaps and gaps for women's imagination who roamed the internet in search of explicit naughty.
There were only a few minutes left before entering the scene and you felt your skin crawling every second because of your nervousness that was exceeding all your expectations of remaining calm. 
“Y/n, are you ready?” you hear Carol's voice.
You look at her and nod quickly, following her to the film set. The scene would be "romantic". At least that's what Carol implied when she explained what would happen. Natasha and you would pretend to be a couple. They would be sleeping and then she would "wake up" and start touching and kissing you, until you woke up and the whole act would happen.
You were seriously considering the possibility of sleeping forever.
Before you got on set, Carol gave you a long-sleeved shirt to wear. The blouse covered your waist, but in the bust it was so wide that it almost left your breasts exposed. These typical pieces of cloth that actresses wear in pornographic films, not to say that they were completely naked.
When we finally walked onto the set, you looked around and saw that you were in an all-white room, decorated with little touches of brown and gold. There was a large queen size bed in the middle of the room, with a white comforter and pillows.
It looked like a normal room and you were relieved that you didn't have to record those scenes where you're a naughty secretary who has sex with your married boss.
You saw Natasha talking to a blond man on the other side of the set and Carol called her over. She was wearing white pants, a blouse that left her belly exposed and... That's it.
That was it and she was deliciously sexy.
She is very beautiful and for a moment, in all the anger and frustration of being there, you had forgotten about it.
“Are you ready, darling?”
“I'm always ready, you know.” Natasha smiled and came close to you, putting her arm around her shoulder. Her body was warm and she smelled incredibly. “And you, Detka... Ready?”
"No. But I have to do this, so…” You shrugged, trying to convey an indifference that you were far from feeling.
Natasha laughed and stood in front of you, while Carol spoke to her again about something that her mind simply didn't want to decipher. Your entire brain was commanding your eyes, and respecting her wishes, you took a good look at Natasha, looking for an erection that wasn't there.
I mean, don't porn actors come into the scene with hard penises? You think.
"Excellent!" Carol said louder, catching her attention. She turned to everyone and clapped twice, making the entire set go silent. “Guys, is everyone ready?” after a unison yes, she smiled. “Perfect, let’s get started!”
ACTION!!!
An instrumental song with a sensual rhythm began to play softly throughout the set, while you kept your eyes closed and felt Natasha's rhythmic breathing on your neck. Her fingers were intertwined with yours, while her hands rested on your stomach.
The two of you really looked like a couple and, with a lot of effort, you managed to stop the rapid beating of your heart. Everything was silent except for the music and a few minutes later, you feel Natasha move next to you. You feel the mattress sink a little and you think she sat up, while you struggled not to move your eyelids.
The redhead lifted your hand, intertwined with yours, and kissed it, before releasing it and began kissing your lap, moving up to your neck, where she gave it a lick that made you shiver.
“Open your eyes, Detka…” Natasha murmured so softly, you thought you were hearing things, before she bit your earlobe.
You wince all over because of the unexpected bite and open your eyes slowly, trying your best to convey that you were actually sleeping, when everyone else knew it was a lie.
Natasha's face hovered over you, and she rubbed her nose against yours before touching my lips gently, her hand caressing your entire face. It felt like a touch of pity on his lips, until she deepened the kiss, slowly slipping her tongue into his mouth. You feel every nerve ending inside you go on alert as you kiss back and thread your hands through her soft red hair.
You couldn't tell what was really happening, or answer why your body was responding to hers so quickly, because your brain made a direct connection with the lower part, while you felt Natasha's hands groping your breast through the thin blouse you were wearing. Your body was hot and her tongue circled your mouth in a hurry, giving you no chance to think about what was happening around you.
Or if there was someone around you.
With dexterity, she sat on top of you, at waist height and placed her hands open on top of your belly. Her gaze only left yours to follow the path your hands took, lifting your shirt until she quickly took it off you. You had to fight hard to suppress a sigh when she bit her lip with an explicit and naughty desire written in her expression.
“Beautiful…” moaned the redhead, as her fingers closed around your nipple and squeezed it making it hard for her.
With a smile on the corner of her lips, she passed the palm of her hand over her engorged peak and an eager moan escaped your lips, when the sensation made a direct connection with her clitoris. You weren't a virgin, by God, of course not! So why the hell was his body responding to a porn star's thrusts?
Why were your panties so damp, that the wet feeling between your legs was becoming agonizing? And she still hadn't done anything! Nothing compared to what your son-of-a-bitch ex-boyfriend had to do to get you aroused in the slightest.
You wanted answers, you really did, but at that moment it was impossible to find them. Especially when the redhead bent down and ran the tip of her tongue over your nipple, looking straight into her eyes.
“Look at me, Y/n... I want your eyes on me, I want you to watch me while I suck your divinely delicious breasts!” muttered the redhead softly again, and you squirmed as you mentally asked yourself why she spoke so quietly.
She smiled sweetly at you and bit your nipple hard enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Holy shit, since when do the hairs on the back of your neck stand up? How damn hot was that?
A loud moan left her lips and she took the opportunity to suck your nipple hard and open your legs to place herself between them. Something hard, big and warm settled right over your clit, and Natasha moved, making you realize that all of it was her cock on top of you, covered only by the thin fabric of the cloth pants she wore. You feel your intimacy pulsate, as she cups your breasts in her hands and sucks them quickly, jumping from one nipple to the other, and moving on top of you, rubbing her member against your clit
Unconsciously, you began to move your waist, needing, needing just a little more friction. She smiled at you and nibbled on your breasts once again, before moving her mouth down your body, running her warm tongue over your belly, but you can't make a sound when you realize where it would go with all that descent down your belly, hips and waist.
With her lips moist and open, she walked along the inside of your thigh, while her ring finger touched you in circles on top of my mound of Venus. You close your eyes and feel two licks on your crotch, forcing you to take a deep breath. It was just going to be oral sex, you knew that, so why the hell were you so nervous?! And so damn excited?!
You didn't know how to answer.
I don't think you would even know how to respond to your name, when Natasha pulled your clitoris into her own lips with a single, precise suck.
An electric shock spread through your veins, while a rush of adrenaline made you jump onto the bed and look at her. Natasha had her green eyes glazed over your face, telling you with just one look to keep looking at her.
As if you were capable of doing anything other than watching her as she sucked your clit into her own mouth without any mercy towards you, spreading a hitherto unknown pleasure throughout your body. A loud roar escaped your throat as she released your pulsing nerve and circled your entrance with the tip of her tongue.
Your hips immediately began to match her rhythm, as loud moans escaped your lips. Everything was summed up in that moment. There was nothing around you, nothing capable of making you stop, nothing capable of making Natasha stop.
“Delicious... Completely delicious.” The redhead smiled, kneeling on the bed and reached out to you. “Give me your hand, hmm?”
You look at her and without even thinking twice, you extend your hand, placing it over hers.She leaned in just a little and licked the tip of her index finger, then lowered her hand and placed it on your mound of Venus.
“Touch yourself. I want to see your finger playing with that beautiful pussy, babe…” whispered the redhead 
Sure, it was obvious that you masturbated, but you did it in the comfort of your home, in the privacy of your room, on your bed. Not among a bunch of people, because touching your own body is something... Too intimate to be shared like that.
But you were so excited by her gaze, by the volume her erection was causing, that you only realized you had obeyed her when a moan escaped your lips, your index and middle fingers circled your clitoris with impressive speed, while Natasha looked at you fascinated.
“That…” the redhead said softly again, now pulling up her blouse and revealing her large, wonderfully juicy breasts and pulling the string that held her pants at her waist.
In less than a second, her giant erection was in front of you. Her penis was even bigger in person, it was really... It was really big. 
The redhead's member passed her own navel, the veins were fully dilated, the glans was red and shining with pre-cum liquid.
But Natasha had such great self-control, that at least it seemed like she was that excited.
“No, babe... Don't stop...” she murmured in a more audible tone, placing her left hand over her fingers, while her right hand began to touch her cock from top to bottom, slowly..
She made a face of pleasure and encouraged you to continue touching yourself. You were absorbed into your bubble again, forgetting the world around you. Your moans mixed and you felt your insides tighten, your orgasm close, your body screaming for release. You were almost there, when Natasha suddenly removed her finger from where it was and fell into your mouth, surrounding her clitoris and putting three fingers inside you opening, finding your G-spot in less than a second.
Holy shit, no one has ever stimulated you so much. You tried to hold on, to endure the pleasure, to make it last, but it wasn't possible. Your hips moved automatically, your cum being released one after the other to that strangely hot woman, who had given you the strongest orgasm of your entire life.
“I want more… Give me more.” Natasha roared with her mouth on your intimacy, going back to sucking you vigorously.
Could you even breathe, and did she want you to cum more? The worst part is that her body no longer responded to you, yes to her. Only to the redhead's stimuli. She spoke, sucked and you came again, your intimacy pulsing so much that it hurt, your clitoris sent electric shocks through your body, your leg squeezed it, because you wanted to close it and it just wouldn't let you!
“Natasha, please, please!” You whimper, squirming.
But she didn't stop. You feel and see her mischievous smile, her tongue out, just the tip, surrounding your clitoris with irritating slowness. Your body jumped off the bed and you came again, your liquid ending up directly on the older woman's tongue. Tears escaped your eyes and you were ready to beg her to stop, when she just placed a light kiss on your clit and hovered over you, touching your face with your fingertips.
“Oh, Y/n…” she murmurs softly, wiping away your tears. “Don’t cry, Detka… I still have more orgasms for you.”
You open your mouth to try to say something, but breathing was the only thing you knew how to do at the moment. Natasha smiled once again and brushed her lips over hers.
“Look at me and feel, just look at me.”
Even if you wanted to, you would never be able to take your eyes off hers. Natasha trapped you in a black captivity, and she kept you there, without showing anything, until you felt it. The tip of her member passed from your clitoris to its opening, the sex becoming luscious with the two liquids, then the glans began to make room. She was big, and she was gentle, coming in slowly, little by little.
You sigh with pleasure as she continued in her absurd self-control, totally focused on your gaze, thrusting and thrusting into you, stretching you so much that there was a point when you thought there was nowhere else for it to go. But she surprised you, rolling around and making you move with her, sliding further inside you until her pelvis touched your clitoris.
“Tight, hot, delicious... This pussy was made to be eaten by me, Y/n. Fate just gave us a little push.” murmured the redhead, starting to thrust into you.
Her member moved in and out at a pace that gradually increased. Her cock hit every tiny nerve inside you, never in your entire life had you felt so complete having sex with someone. No one had ever hit all those points she was hitting. Your pussy contracts around Natasha's cock, massaging her and receiving all the pleasure in return.
This woman was made to fuck you...
“Faster…” You ask in a moan, letting your hands run down the older woman’s back.
She smiled, and suddenly, turned around on the bed, leaving you on top. With my hands on your waist, Natasha started to push you up and down and soon found a rhythm that gave both of you pleasure. Your orgasm was close again, as you saw her bite her lips and let out soft moans. In this case, you were the scandalous one and your screams became louder when you came again, bouncing on the thick and oversized member, which occupied you completely.
Without letting you stop, Natasha pulled you by the back of your head and kissed your mouth, holding you with one hand. Supporting herself with her feet, she started to thrust inside you again, making you moan into her lips.
By God, you were too sensitive, and you were about to cum again.
“N-Natasha...I'll go again, I'll go...” you murmured against the redhead's lips, but your voice came out louder than a simple murmur.
“Come on then, Detka... Come for me.” Natasha practically growled, thrusting faster, tirelessly.
You let yourself go again, losing your ability to reason, while your body shook and your cum wet the redhead's dick inside you. You went too limp, as you only realized that Natasha had laid you down on the bed, when you saw her body hover over you again. With her lower lip between her teeth, Natasha rolled inside you, pulling you to an orgasm you could never achieve. Being a good connoisseur of the female body, she just continued to thrust, faster and faster, making you understand that she was in search of her own pleasure. You smile at her and touch her breasts, squeezing her tender nipples, making her throw her head back and moan loudly.
You missed touching a woman's body, it's much better than a man's. Smooth, soft, the most pleasant flesh to squeeze, the smell, the touch... Oh, especially the touch.
Romanoff moaned louder for the second time and thrust into you so hard that your lower belly wobbled.
“Fuck, Y/n...fuck me...like this!” she moaned loudly, still looking you in the eyes.
You tighten around her, putting pressure on her member and then, she came. Her hot, thick jets hit you with full force, wetting you all inside and she didn't stop. She continued to moan and scream and call your name like a clamor. After a few minutes, she calmed down and leaned closer to you, placing kisses on your breasts, your neck and finally, your mouth, as it comes out inside you and you feel your liquids spilling onto the mattress. You allow yourself to feel her tongue caress you tenderly, your hands roam her body and, for a moment, you imagine that you were a couple who had just made love…
CUT!!!
"Damn, perfect! Cut!”
And then, Carol's voice entered her ears. Natasha jumps away and everything around her gains image and sound, while reality takes over you again. 
Yes, you had just filmed a porn film with the most famous star of all time.
1K notes · View notes
godslino · 4 months
Text
MIGRATION | bang chan first date series. strangers to lovers.
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pairing: bang chan x fem!reader word count: 5.5k genre: fluff, romance, falling in love at first sight summary: you've never been lucky when it comes to dating, but a blind date with chan just might turn that around
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chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡
author’s note: hello and welcome to my first date series!! i seriously had so much fun writing this and i’m so excited to continue with the other members. i hope you all enjoy! if you liked it, please remember that any and all feedback is appreciated!! happy reading <3
“So…I know a guy.”
You groan, throwing your head back against the cushion of the booth you’re currently shoved into. Changbin drops his fork to gesture at you with his hand, a look of exasperation on his face.
“Come on, I haven’t even said anything yet!”
“The problem is that you’ve said anything at all.” You say, glaring at him as you reach for your drink.
Changbin, as much as you love him, is notorious for being the worst wing man in the history of wing men. His most recent pick, Jooyoung, was a friend of his from high school. A freelance writer, the owner of a snazzy apartment in one of the more sophisticated districts of Seoul, and conveniently single. They’d recently reconnected after a mutual friend threw a party that they both went to, and he was ecstatic to try and set the two of you up.
You’d been reluctant, rightfully so, but Changbin is anything but a quitter and you also just so happen to be the world’s biggest pushover (his pout is just too good, okay?), so you’d agreed on the off chance that it just might work out.
Long story short, it didn’t.
Jooyoung was probably the biggest asshole you’d ever been on a date with. Not that you were surprised, though. Changbin’s circle of friends when he was younger mainly consisted of grade-A douchebags who were born with a golden spoon in their mouths. Perks of being born into a wealthy family and attending one of the most elite private schools in the country, apparently. Changbin had attended a university on the outskirts of Seoul for a reason. Lesser known, laid back—to study music of all things—and the sole reason for his father’s headache, as he’d put it. That’s where he met you.
“Okay, but I think this guy might be the one.” He makes air quotes around the two words, and you scoff as you cross your arms.
“And what would you know about that?”
“Um, a lot? You’re my best friend, I know exactly what you’re looking for.”
This is the part where things go south—or so you assume. Changbin puts on the puppy eyes, jutting his bottom lip out to hell as he stares at you from across the table. You glare at him dead on, unwavering. He won’t get you this time. Not over your dead body.
“At least let me tell you about him?”
“No.”
“I met him at the company. He makes music just like me, only slightly better. And you know how I am, I don’t just say that stuff. That means he’s really good.”
Choosing to ignore him, you go back to poking at your noodles.
“He’s from Australia. Born here, moved there when he was young, then moved back to pursue music. Kinda ballsy if you ask me. But he speaks English, so at least communication won’t be as much of an issue as other guys.”
A small crack in your composure. The idea of this guy growing up somewhere other than Korea is…pretty intriguing.
Despite moving here three years ago for school, it’s still kind of hard to communicate when your Korean could be more polished than it is. You’d basically kept to yourself for the first year until you met Changbin. He’d easily integrated you into his group of other music majors, even though you stuck out like a sore thumb as both a foreigner and a stem major. But if it weren’t for him, you think that you might’ve hauled ass back home a long time ago due to the isolation. So to be introduced to someone who can speak english, under the prospect of possibly dating them, sparks a bit more interest.
Changbin notices the slight twitch of your brow and smirks, one side of his mouth pulling downwards. Bastard.
“Hmm, what else? Oh! Dude’s got a killer set of dimples. You’re into that, aren’t you? You used to go on and on about that younger guy in your physics class during senior year. What was his name—Jeongsuk? Jeong—Jinyoung? Jeongin! It was Jeongin.” Changbin snaps his fingers like he’s impressed with his own memory, pointing at you as you fix him with a blank stare. “He has dimplessss.” He sing-songs for emphasis.
And, really, this should not be the breaking point. You’re better than this. You’re not so shallow that you would throw away your pride for a man you’ve never met—let alone never seen before—all because he has dimples.
But, once again, you’re a pushover. A big one. So yeah, fuck it.
“What’s his name?”
Changbin blinks like he wasn’t expecting you to fall for it. “Seriously? That’s what got you?”
“You have five seconds to tell me his name before I change my mind.”
He scoffs, mouth agape. “I went as far as disregarding my own talents to play up this guy and his music making abilities—”
“Five.”
“—tried to give you a little bit of a backstory, too—”
“Four.”
“—and the dimples are the final nail in the coffin?”
“Three.”
“Chan! His name is Chan. God. Just—stop counting. It freaks me out.”
Chan. You throw the name around in your brain for a bit, pointedly ignoring the way Changbin is whining about how you sound like his mother when you do the whole number thing. It’s kind of…cute. Not enough to conjure up an idea of what he might look like, but putting a name to a faceless stranger with dimples in your head is gonna have to do for now.
“You swear this guy is normal?”
Changbin rolls his eyes. “Define normal.”
“Okay, let me rephrase myself,” you push your plate forward, laying your forearms on the table as an indicator that you’re serious, “Is he an asshole?”
“No.”
“Hm. Okay. So that’s a maybe.”
“What the fuck? I just said no.”
“Yeah? You also set me up with Jooyoung, remember? The guy who literally started flirting with the waitress right in front of me five minutes into our date? And then proceeded to yell at her when his fries weren’t salted?”
“How was I supposed to know…” Changbin mumbles, looking off to the side guiltily.
“Nevermind. Just—if this goes bad, I’m blaming you. And then I’m never going on a blind date with one of your friends again. Matter of fact, I’m never going on a date again, period. Deal?”
Changbin grins, the apples of his cheeks shiny under the restaurant lighting. He holds his hand out for you to shake, and you take it hesitantly, grimacing when he uses his strength to jostle your arm like a ragdoll.
“Deal.”
🎥🍿
Any hope you had for the date going smoothly starts to dwindle once Chan texts you the day of.
You’d gotten his number from Changbin, who had so kindly already given Chan your number before he’d even broached the subject with you. The resulting lecture about privacy and consent may or may not have extended the rest of your time at the restaurant, a sheepish Changbin rubbing at the back of his neck while you berated him for his lack of common sense.
When your phone buzzes on your bathroom counter, Chan’s name flashing across the screen, you mistakenly think that he might be messaging because he’s early. Which, given the fact that you were standing in nothing but a towel, hair still wet from your shower and face covered in moisturizer you hadn’t rubbed into your skin yet, would be less than ideal.
Chan [12:32p.m.]
Hey! I’m really sorry to have to do this, but can we push the date back an hour?
Something came up at the studio
I tried to get out of it but I have a deadline to meet, client probably won’t be too happy of their track isn’t done on time
Great. Already off to a rough start.
In his defense though, you appreciate the fact that he’s messaged a whopping two hours in advance. Most people probably wouldn’t be bothered to allow that much of a grace period.
You [2:33p.m.]
no worries!!!
you didn’t buy the tickets yet, did you?
Chan [2:34p.m.]
Nope! So we should be fine
I’ll purchase them for 6 and then be there to scoop you up around 5:30 if that’s cool?
You [2:36p.m.]
sounds perfect
hope stuff goes well at the studio!!
Chan [2:40p.m.]
You’re sweet
Thank you, I’ll see you soon :)
You’re sweet. You stare at the words on the screen, your brain buffering for a moment. A big fat loading circle floating above your head.
Suddenly it’s way too hot in the bathroom. You blame the fact that you shower with the water cranked all the way up to boiling, because really there’s no other explanation for the warmth spreading throughout your cheeks.
To be fair, it’s been almost a year now since you’ve had any sort of positive interaction with another male. On one hand, your last relationship ended in a ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ ordeal that most definitely gave the impression that it was you. On the other hand, most of the dates you’ve been on have ruined themselves within the first five minutes, never really giving you the chance to feel any sort of connection. Cocky attitudes, overly pushy encounters, and even someone who walked into the cafe you were seated at, took one look at you, and walked right back out. That one still hurts.
It’s a little sad that Chan is the only guy out of the mix whose elicited any sort of reaction out of you. Especially since you haven’t even met him yet.
The extra hour that you have to compensate for flies by a lot quicker than you expect, and before you know it Chan is messaging that he’s five minutes away.
You take one last glance in the mirror: a pair of light wash jeans that sit right above your hips, black halter top bodysuit, and a thin cream colored cardigan to tie it all together. Simple and cute. A movie date doesn’t really call for all the dramatics, and you’d hate to overdress for a first impression.
You’re in the middle of reapplying your chapstick when the doorbell rings.
Take it easy, you say to yourself, inhaling deeply as you reach for the door handle. You let the air out with one final huff, swinging the door open only to be met by a bouquet of daisies directly in front of your face.
You blink in surprise. Well that’s a first. Before you get a chance to speak, the bouquet is being lowered, and the moment Chan’s face comes into view causes a small gasp to fall from your lips.
He’s…cute. Beautiful, even. A bright smile, dimples that tuck themselves into his laugh lines as his eyes disappear into crescents much like the moon, and lips that make your head spin when his tongue darts out to wet them nervously. His hair falls messily across his forehead in a faded hue of purple with hints of brown, definitely unconventional and an obvious result of one too many washes, but he makes it work. He makes it work well.
He clears his throat, brings a fist up to his mouth to emphasize it, and then grins. “Hi there.”
It takes a second for your brain to catch up. Even his voice is attractive. He’s using english, which leads you to assume that Changbin has already told him that you’re not from here. His accent is there, not too noticeable but also strong enough to be picked up on.
“Hey.” You smile, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.
“These are for you. I, uh, as an apology for being late. Is it too much?”
You shake your head quickly. “No! No, these are—they’re beautiful. I love them. Thank you…Chan.” His name rolls off your tongue hesitantly, but it all disappears as soon as he flashes that smile again.
“Good, I’m glad,” his voice catches the breathy end of the laugh he lets out, “This is weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I don’t really do well with this kind of stuff. But you look really nice, and I’m excited. My car is parked just out front if you’re ready to go.”
Honest. Awkward. A laugh that makes you want to hear it over and over again. You were sold the minute his eyes met yours. Chan offers his elbow for you to take like you’re in some cheesy romance movie from your childhood.
Yeah. This one is definitely gonna go well.
🎥🍿
Chan might not show it, but he’s just as nervous as you are.
You wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance that he spent an entire forty-five minutes deciding on an outfit, only to settle with some jeans and a white shirt, a jacket thrown on top for some color.
When Changbin first proposed the idea of going on a date with you, he was adamant that he wasn’t looking for anything right now. But as soon as you opened the door, eyes wide and looking like the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he’s glad he said yes.
“So what movie are we seeing?” you ask, frowning when Chan laughs. “What? What’s funny?”
“It’s a surprise.” He smiles, rushing forward to hold the door of the car open for you. When he puts his hand against the top part to block your head, you have to suppress the smattering of butterfly wings that start to clamor against your ribcage.
Chan is sweet. He double checks that you’re buckled in before driving off, he asks if there’s any specific music you want to listen to before foregoing it all entirely to ask about you instead, he listens with an attentiveness that has you feeling seen and heard, and he smiles with such genuinity and warmth that you feel cold once it disappears. You stare at him in awe, like he’s a figment of your imagination.
Chan’s been staring back, too. He spares glances in your direction when you’re not looking, feels the steady thump of his heart gradually increase whenever you lean a little too far to the left when he makes you laugh, and he thinks your voice is prettier than anything that’s ever played on the radio.
You learn more about him as he drives. He moved back from Australia when he was seventeen, he’s got two younger siblings and an adorable puppy named Berry back home (and pictures on his dashboard to prove it), he prefers Australia’s summers over Seoul’s winters but he finds more inspiration here in the city than anywhere else. You resonate with the fact that he doesn’t really have anyone here besides a small circle of friends. No family, no one to fall back on when things get tough.
Chan talks like he’s an old friend, like he’s re-telling a story you’ve heard a thousand times. He makes it easy to fall into step with him as if you’ve been here all along.
By the time the two of you get to the movie theater, the initial awkwardness that had hung in the air is gone, replaced by comfort and ease. Chan throws the car in park and all but books it out of his seat to open your door for you, and you giggle when he makes a dramatic bow as you exit.
The theater is kind of busy for a Thursday night. There are families with their kids lined up to get tickets and groups of teenagers at the concessions, all of which make for a crowded lobby. Chan glances down when you place a hand on his arm, mostly because you want to stay close, but also because it’s hard to ignore the feeling of being magnetized towards him. He smiles, bending at the elbow to allow your arm to slip into his.
There are cardboard cutouts along the sides of the lobby, all of which serve to promote the newest animated release about a family of ducks. You squint at the showtimes once the two of you make it to the front of the counter, letting your eyes scan the movie titles until you finally land on—
“Two tickets for Migration, under Bang Chan.”
The girl behind the counter looks up, her eyes bored. She can’t be any older than sixteen, most likely resentful about the fact that she’s stuck here on a school night. “The kids movie?” She asks, unimpressed.
Chan braves a glance in your direction and—ah, there goes that grin again. Cue the butterflies. You’d agree to a three hour long showing of static and white noise if it meant he’d never stop doing that.
“Yup, that’s the one.”
Tickets in hand, a smiling Chan right next to you, and a massive line for popcorn that honestly might have the two of you late for the previews. “We’re seeing a kids movie?” You ask, moving up a spot in the line.
“Mmhm. I spent so long looking at all the options. The romcoms seemed boring, Bin mentioned that the newest superhero movie was bad, and I figured a scary one was too cliché,” he eyes you sidelong, “Unless you’re into that.”
You huff out a laugh, not really expecting him to be so straightforward, “I definitely am not.”
“Hm, so the old yawn to put my arm around you trick won’t work?” His eyes are playful, but something about the idea of being in even more contact with him has your stomach doing flips.
“Nope. Sorry. Seen that one before.” You say, making him laugh, his earring dangling when he drops his chin towards his chest.
“I guess I’ll have to figure out something else then.”
Another thing you learn about Chan is that he enjoys interesting food combinations.
“You like peanut m&ms?” he asks, throwing a bag of them onto the counter when you nod your head. After he pays, he pockets his wallet and turns to you with a bucket of popcorn tucked under his arm and a large drink with two straws in his hand. “Could you grab the candy?”
First door, theater one. There are a bunch of parents and their kids entering ahead of you, all of them buzzing with excitement. It’s a little funny, the fact that two grown adults—no kid in tow—are walking into the showing of a kids movie.
Chan leads you to the very back row. “For the kids, just in case they can’t see over us.” He quickly clarifies after noticing the way your eyebrows shoot up in silent question, but even in the dim lighting you can still see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Taking me to a kids movie and then propositioning me in the presence of five year olds? You’ve got some nerve.” You say, timing it perfectly as Chan is leaning forward to take a sip of the drink that’s placed in the cupholder between the two of you. He sputters around the straw in surprise, coughing into his fist.
“That’s not—” You laugh, cutting him off as he stares at you with red eyes from his coughing fit. The mood shifts after that, and Chan visibly relaxes into his seat as he starts throwing jokes out a lot easier than before.
“Learned this from my dad,” he says, opening the bag of m&ms, “It’s my favorite thing to do at the movies. Haven’t been in a while because—well, I don’t really have anyone to go with.”
You watch as he dumps the candy into the popcorn bucket, shaking it to mix everything together. He reaches in to grab a piece of popcorn and an m&m at the same time, popping it into his mouth.
“Oh my god,” he sighs, slumping into his seat, “Forgot how good that is.”
When you don’t respond, he looks over. “You okay?”
Are you? You’re not sure. Every bone in your body is screaming bloody murder because Chan is making it really hard to not want to lean over and kiss the concerned frown off of his stupidly pretty face.
The thing about it is that you don’t do blind dates. And you most especially don’t enjoy them. But Chan is different. Chan holds doors open for you and makes corny jokes. Chan laughs at everything like it’s his last day on earth and he’s making up for lost time. Chan listens when you talk and responds with genuine interest. Chan compliments the little girl in the theater lobby who’s wearing a princess dress to watch the new superhero movie. Chan shares something as special as his dad’s favorite movie snack with you. Chan is just…Chan. And you like him. A lot.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, I’m just—thank you. For sharing that with me.” You say, the corners of your mouth lifting.
“Stop doing that.” He mumbles, eyes trained ahead.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling. It makes my head spin.”
Your heart slams against your chest. You’ve spent the entire date trying to make sense of the way Chan makes you feel, trying to put it all into words. Yet here he is, right in front of you, saying his thoughts as they come and absolutely ruining your resolve in the process. Like it’s easy for him.
There’s no time to answer when the lights go down, the screen up front widening to signal the start of the movie.
Just like any other kids movie, it’s easy to get caught up in all the surface level jokes while also understanding the themes. You and Chan laugh outwardly at some parts, hold your breath at the suspenseful ones. It’s almost like you’re a kid again, enjoying yourself fully for the first time in a really, really long while.
Chan was right, the popcorn and m&m combination is good. You reach back into the bucket for more, freezing when Chan does the same and his knuckles brush yours in the slightest of touches, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. It happens a few more times, each one leaving his hand lingering for far longer than the last, until eventually he makes a show of digging really hard for an m&m and hooks his pinky with yours in between the popcorn. It’s cheesy and cliché but god does it make your stomach do somersaults.
About three-quarters of the way through the movie, when it’s clear that neither one of you are willing to take it the next step further, you lean into his ear.
“You okay? You look kind of tired.”
Chan turns, confused. He’s certain that he wasn’t dozing off. He did have a late night last night. He was up working on the track that still somehow managed to hold him back today, hoping to have everything polished so that he didn’t run into any obstacles before your date. But that didn’t really work out in the end.
“Huh? No, I’m fine. Honest.”
“You sure?” you ask, a slight lift to your voice, “I don’t know, you looked like you were about to yawn.”
The light from the movie hits the left side of his face, illuminating all of his features in a way that makes your breath hitch. He’s pretty. So, so pretty.
Chan blinks, slow, and then his confusion slowly turns to one of understanding. Cue the grin.
“You know, now that I’m thinking about it…I am kind of tired.” He makes a show of fake yawning, stretches his arms above his head (and not blocking any children since you’re in the back row, thankfully), before bringing his right arm down and around your shoulders.
You spend the rest of the movie like that, tucked into Chan’s side while his fingers move gently against your shoulder. He’s unbelievably warm, and eventually you find your head resting in the spot just between his shoulder and his neck, his cheek pushed up against the side of your head. The position makes it easier to reach up and pat his eyes dry at the end, a single tear slipping out as he sniffled and mumbles a ‘M’not crying’ that has you giggling and doting all over him.
He doesn’t move his arm for the entire walk back to the car, and you momentarily mourn the loss when he opens the door for you (again!) so you can climb in. When he finally gets in on the other side, he says nothing, just reaches over to intertwine his fingers with yours and places your joined hands on the center console like it’s something you’ve done a thousand times.
“Ready to go home?” He asks, looking over at you.
You glance down at your hands, then back up at him. “Is it weird if I say no?”
“Not at all,” Chan grins, throwing the car into drive, “I was hoping you would say that.”
🎥🍿
“For you.”
Chan plops down on the bench, a hand outstretched with a steaming hot chocolate ready for you to take.
“Thanks,” you smile, cradling the cup between your hands.
After some deliberation, you and Chan had decided to come to the Han River. It’s quiet, the bridge lights reflecting off the water as the sounds of the city fade into the background. The temperature is slightly on the colder side, the tail end of winter just barely there. When he notices the slight shiver of your shoulders after a particularly strong gust of wind, Chan shucks his jacket off in a heartbeat to drape over you.
“Oh, you don’t—”
“You’re cold,” he scolds, pulling at the collar of the jacket to tighten it around you. His hand lingers near the base of your neck, fingers itching to reach out and touch. He doesn’t though, just smiles and settles back into the bench. “Plus I think Changbin might actually kill me if something were to happen to you.”
“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “Ignore him. I’m not a baby.”
Chan takes a sip of his own hot chocolate, licks his lips to catch the excess. Not that you’re staring. “I’m serious. I mean, I get it. He told me that you’re here alone and stuff.”
You hum in understanding, turning your head to stare out at the water. “So are you.”
It’s Chan’s turn to look at you now, his elbows resting against his knees, and you watch out of the corner of your eye as his face turns unreadable.
The silence stretches thin, nothing but the sound of cars passing and a dog barking nearby. It’s kind of comforting in a way. Being on your own in a new place has been one of the hardest transitions you’ve ever had to deal with. There were times where it felt like a mistake, where you wished that you’d never even gotten on the plane. But then there were times where you felt lucky to be experiencing the things you are; to be able to try new things and pursue a life for yourself that you never thought possible.
“How’d you do it?” you ask quietly, turning to meet Chan’s gaze. “I mean, you were young. Seventeen is basically still a kid. Being alone in a place like this is scary as an adult, I can’t even imagine what that was like.”
Chan smiles, but it’s sad. His eyes twinkle with something like resentment, the lights from the bridge making it look like he’s glowing. A flame that’ll never burn out. “Would you believe me if I said I’m still figuring it out?” The end of it comes out as a laugh, but you can tell he means it.
“I don’t know, being a big shot music producer with deadlines and clients seems pretty figured out to me.”
Chan nods and stares at the cup in his hands. “My parents hated it. Still do, I think.” You don’t say anything. Chan is grateful for that; grateful for the space you’re giving him to explain. “They wanted more for me I guess. But I’m not sure that more would’ve necessarily been what I wanted, you know? I’m content with where I am now. I’m doing something I love, even if it took a while to get here. They don’t see it.” He chews his lip nervously, fingers playing with the soggy material of the paper cup’s rim.
Chan doesn’t know why he’s saying any of this. He’s not the type to completely bare himself out to anyone, to scoop away at his insides until there’s nothing left besides the hollowness he feels whenever he thinks about how he traded his life back home for a life of music. But you’re different somehow. Chan knew since the moment he saw you, felt it in the way your eyes lit up whenever he spoke and in the ease of how well the two of you got along. He was doomed from the start.
“I see it.” you say, your eyes still fixed on the water. “I might’ve only just met you today, but I see it. And I get it, too. Maybe not to the same extent, but the feeling of wanting to do something for yourself even if it meant losing something else. There’s purpose in that, in you. It’s okay to be selfish if it means you’re prioritizing your happiness.” You let the words settle for a bit, hoping that you don’t sound too shallow. When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking back.
“You don’t know me enough to say that.”
“I don’t have to know you to believe in you, Chan.”
A beat of silence, and then he’s laughing, short and punctuated as he lets his head fall forward with a small shake.
“You’re…”
“What? Corny?” you supply, smiling over at him.
“No,” he says, meeting your gaze. “Perfect.”
You huff out an incredulous laugh, looking away to hide the blush that’s spreading across your cheeks. “You can’t just—god, now who’s corny? Huh?”
“I never said I wasn’t corny.” Chan argues, sitting up to face you fully.
“Yeah but you can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? I think you like it.”
Your mouth opens and closes quickly, lost for words. Chan’s closer now, a lot closer than he was before. One arm thrown across the back of the bench, loosely framing you in, he bends it at the elbow to bring a hand up and tuck your hair behind your ear.
“I never said that.” you mumble, your gaze flicking down to his lips and then back up again.
“You want me to stop then?” he asks, voice just above a whisper. You know what he’s implying the minute his fingers trace the shell of your ear, moving down slowly until they start playing with the collar of his jacket.
“Is it bad if I say no?”
Chan’s hand is warm to the touch, ice to fire. You lean into it. A moth to a flame, one that’ll never go out.
“Not at all,” he repeats, just like earlier, “I was hoping you would say that.”
A dog barking in the distance. Cars beeping as they pass by. A plane flying overhead. A group of friends laughing as they ride past on their bikes. The minute Chan’s lips connect with yours, everything fades, the sounds warbling together like static. Unintelligible; nothing besides the feeling of Chan kissing you matters.
It’s slow, nothing more than a press, but you feel it in every fiber of your being. Kissing Chan feels like the poles of the earth are colliding, meeting in the middle and sending its molten core spreading throughout your entire body. Warm, warm, warm. Chan is warm. He’s soft and gentle and his lashes tickle your cheeks when his eyes flutter closed halfway through because he was too busy etching your features into his memory.
You’re the first to pull away, admiring the way Chan’s eyes slowly peel open, lips swollen and pink. Unable to resist, you lean in and peck them once more, giggling when he blinks at you in shock.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been as compelled to kiss someone as I was just now.” You smile.
“Me too,” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t normally do dates anyways. At least not ones that don’t immediately go up in flames.”
“What about now?” Chan asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have I changed your mind?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. I kind of told Changbin that if this was a disaster I was never gonna go on a date again.”
Chan laughs and pulls you into his side, tucked right under his arm like the shape of him was molded in a way to make sure that you fit perfectly in his embrace.
“Is it bad if I say I like that idea?” He asks, glancing down at where your head is resting against his chest.
“Nope,” you say before leaning up to kiss him once more. He smiles into it when he feels your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, humming softly against your lips.
“Worst date ever, then?” he mumbles against your mouth.
“Yeah,” you sigh, pulling back to stare into his eyes, big and brown and brighter than the stars, “Worst date ever.”
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[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny ]
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© all rights reserved. godslino 2024. please do not steal, translate, or re-upload.
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louloulemons-posts · 4 months
Note
Heyy
Could you write Eddie x introvert reader😭
Like a little story and then some smut maybe😭
Not So Shy
Eddie Munson X Shy!Girlfriend
Word Count : 2.4k
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Warnings : not proofread, SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex, kinky? daddy kink, readers called good girl and bunny, choking, eddies a soft dom, sub reader, it’s kinda fluffy lmao?
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
“Hey baby!” Eddie was leaning against his van as you walked over, almost shouting the endearment. “Hey,” you smiled, making your way to him.
His hands instantly sound your waist, leaning down to peck your lips. “How was English?” With a flushed face you replied, “It was good yeah, how was Chem?”
Eddie pulled a face. “Ed’s you said you’d go!” You scolded.
“I know I know, but I had a deal to do. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll go Monday okay?”
“You better.” He squeezed your hips, smirking as he leaned down, “Like when you get all assertive with me baby.” Your face burned, pushing away from the grinning boy.
However he just pulled you back, so you stood chest to chest. “Eddie,” You whined, “People are looking.”
“Let em look baby.” With a groan you dropped your face into his chest making him chuckle.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry. Let’s go okay?” He suggested. “Okay.” The boy opened the door for you, letting you climb into the van. “Love those jeans baby,” he said as you sat.
“Stop looking a my ass!”
“As your boyfriend it’s kinda my job too.”
“Shush!”
The boy cackled as he closed the door and walked to his own side. “So you coming back to mine?” he asked.
“Sure.”
“Great!” He slid a hand onto your thing, giving it a squeeze and you were on your way.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
You don’t really know how you and Eddie got close, you just kinda did. Sat in History class together, you just kinda went hand in hand.
You were quiet, Eddie was loud. You were getting straight As, Eddie was barely scraping a D-. Eddie was full of love and light … you … not so much.
“Here we are gorgeous,” Eddie smiled, pulling up to the trailer. The trailer, somewhere you became so fond of so quickly, even more so when Wayne was around.
Speaking of where was he? “Where’s Wayne?” You asked.
“Picked up another shift. So you’ll have to deal with my ugly mug.”
“Shush, you’re not ugly.”
“No?”
“No .. prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” you mumbled. “What was that?” You knew full well he heard you, but was teasing just cause. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” You said slightly louder this time.
“And you’re the most beautiful girl in the world baby.” Your face flushed. “Come on, let’s get you in, before you die of embarrassment.”
With a huff you hopped out of the van, but couldn’t hide your smile as Eddie held his hand out to you. As he always did, linking your fingers together, eventhough you were only going a short distance.
Once you were inside you slid off your shoes, hanging your jacket and bag on a hook, Eddie doing the same in a smooth rhythm.
“Want a drink? Wayne made lemonade.”
“Yes please.”
“Okay you go and get comfy baby,” he kissed your head walking to the kitchen.
With a sigh you dropped down onto to the sofa, letting your eyes fall closed. Listening to Eddies movements, the glasses gave out of the cupboard, sliding across the side.
The fridge door opened with a slight creak, and the sound of lemonade pouring filled your ears. Once the door of the fridge closed, heavy footsteps padded towards you.
“Long day Baby?” Eddie asked, the glasses were placed with a clink onto to coffee table. Your feet were lifted and then placed on the boys jean clad legs.
“Mhm, just had a lot of homework is all. Got to bed late.”
“You should take a nap.”
“No, wanna spend time with you.” You pushed yourself up on your elbows, opening your eyes to look at the boy.
“Well we can relax together, wanna watch a movie? Red left one here, said you’d probably like it.”
“Oh yeah? What’s it called?”
“The Breakfast Club.”
“Oh Robs told me about that, apparently it’s real good,” you told him.
“Well we better trust them then.” He gently lift your feet so he could get up, placing the tape into the player.
Twisting your body so you could sit together, Eddie smiled, placing his self besides you and held you close. Arms falling around you. “Hello,” he smiled as looked down at you.
“Hi,” you said looking up at him.
“So fucking cute,” he laughed, kissing your head. Your face flushed. “One of these days you’ll stop blushing when I compliment you.”
“Think it’ll take a while.”
“Well we’ve been dating for almost 4 months now, and you still go as red as a beet baby.”
“I can’t help it,” you held your rosy cheeks in your hands.
Eddie squeezed you, “Didn’t mean it’s bad thing, it’s cute. I just wish you’d believe my words more. Just think you’re the best thing.”
“Since sliced bread?” you joked.
“Oh since the start of the universe.” His words were true and full of adoration for you.
“You’re a sweet talker Eddie Munson.”
“Only for you baby.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Lay in Eddies arms as the movie played you felt his hands fiddling with your jumper, sliding under it slightly. Coming to rest on your bare tummy.
The feeling made you burn, his hands on your bare skin, your legs rubbed together at the slight twitch between them.
“Just watch the movie,” Eddie whispered in a soft voice, his hands sliding up. Coming to a halt when his fingers met the bottom of your bra. “Is this okay?” He asked.
You hummed, nodding your head. “Words baby.” He almost pulled his hands away when you couldn’t get them out, choking out a broken, “Yes, Y-yeah.”
His hands resumed their mission. Pulling down the cups, you sighed as your nipples brushed against the knitted wool of your jumper.
Eddies rough hands cupped them, squeezing ever so slightly to make you hiss. His lips brushed against your neck, leaving soft kisses, from the base up to your ear.
His thumb and index finger began to pinch at your nipples, teasing them as he suckled onto that sweet spot below your ear. With a sigh your head fell back against his shoulder, legs squeezing together.
“Eds,” you whined.
“What baby?” he said in a mocking tone.
“Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” He asked, pulling at your nipples giving them a rough squeeze. “Mhm feels real good.”
“Shall we take this off?” he said, motioning to your jumper and bra. “Yeah.” He shifted in front of you then, lifting your arms up, pulling the jumper and throwing it somewhere.
You didn’t know where. You honestly couldn’t care less. Your bra followed moments later. Eddies mouth soon latched onto your tits, kissing them and then taking a nipple into his mouth.
Suckling on it and biting down. “Fuck ah,” you said, hands pulling on his curls. “Fucking love these pretty tits.”
Eddie sat back on his knees taking you in, making you feel shy at your half bare form. Your hands came up to cover yourself, but Eddie pulled them away, linking your fingers.
Pushing you to lie down on the couch Eddie lay between your legs, meeting you in a soft kiss. “Never need to hide from me. You’re so fucking beautiful,” he spoke softly.
The next time he met your mouth, it was full of tongue and lust. Making you whine as he squeezed your boobs again. “Eddie please.”
“Please what baby?”
“Do more.”
“Yeah? Want me to suck on that pretty pussy?” You hummed nodding wildly, hips pushing up to reach his hardening crotch.
“I got you baby, Eddies got you.”
His hands went down to your jeans, undoing the buttons and sliding them down. Kissing your legs as he did so. Socks went with them. You lay there in your panties.
“These are cute baby,” he pulled at the baby blue material, letting them snap back against your hip. “Eds not fair!” You pouted, tugging at his shirt.
“Oh I guess not.” The boy lifted his shirt up and over his head, next his jeans went along with the socks on his own feet.
“This better?” he asked. You took the sight of him in. Lust filled eyes, wild hair, tattoos decorating his skin, and underwear getting tighter by the second. “Yeah.”
He kissed his way down your body, making sure to bite on each nipple as he went. Soon he was at your clothed core. Kissing your thighs, leaving love bites there, you squealed at the feeling.
Trying to close your legs, he held them open, finally dropping kissing onto the blue lace. You let out a soft sigh, hands going back to his hair. “Please don’t tease.”
He laughed, then slide the pants down your legs, making a show of licking where your core would rest. “God fucking delicious.”
“Baby please.”
With a grin he dropped his mouth to you, letting his tongue lick up you. The feeling was incredible, his tongue was like nothing else. Soon he latched onto your clit.
Sucking away, making you let out soft moans. His tongue worked against it too, flicking every once in a while, he knew it drove you mad.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me. Think I can already slide my fingers in.”
“Yes!” You almost screamed. “Yes please.”
“Well how can I say no to you?”
The feeling of two of his thick fingers stretching you was incredible. Your mouth dropped open as he curled them inside you, letting them pump in and out.
“You’re gonna cum on my fingers and in my mouth and then I’ll give you what you really want okay?” With the way he moved his fingers you couldn’t answer, too lost in pleasure.
So he stopped. “I said okay?”
“Okay, yes.”
“Good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around his fingers at that. “Oh?” he smirked.
“You wanna be my good girl?” he asked, once again your pussy throbbed.
Leaning down to your ear he whispered, “Are you gonna be daddy’s good girl and cum around his fingers?” You could have came right then and there.
“Yes.”
“Yes who?”
“Yes daddy.”
He smirked again, pecking your mouth, you could taste yourself on his lips. He was back down on your clit, fingers curling inside you, until they hit you where they needed to.
Letting out a loud moan, you could feel Eddies grin. “Come on baby, cum for me. Cum for daddy.”
“Fuck!” You almost shouted. Hands gripping his hair as he kept playing with your clit and curling those thick digits, so deep you could feel his rings against your hole.
“Fuck daddy- I- I …”
“I know baby I can feel you, cum for daddy. Cum for me.” You did just that. With a loud moan, you hips bucked, shaking as you came.
“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Eddie said, as he moved his mouth away, fingers still moving as he watched your orgasm. “Fuck baby you’re so sexy.
Your chest rose and fell heavily, body full of bliss, as you sighed. Grabbing for his face, you pulled him to kissed you.
Tasting yourself on his tongue made you both moan. “I’ll give you what you want baby.” The boy tugged his boxers down, going to position himself to go inside.
“No,” you stopped him, he pulled back wide eyed. “Do you … do you wanna stop? Shit sorry baby, we can stop right now.”
“No! I don’t wanna stop, I just wanna try something different.”
“Okay?” Softly pushing Eddie up, you pulled his guitar pick necklace off of him, pulling it over your own head. Making the boy sit up, you climbed onto his lap.
“Oh?” he smirked. “And what are you doing now baby?”
“Wanna … wanna bounce on your cock,” you said shyly, but forced yourself to meet his eyes.
“You go ahead bunny, bounce on daddy’s cock,” he said, smacking your ass lightly.
Slowly you positioned his cock at your entrance, letting yourself slide down.
You hissed at the feeling of the stretch it was so good. Eddie was packing six, almost seven inches and he was thick. Nice and thick, making your walls tight around him.
“God that pussys good. Come on baby, bounce.”
So you did. Holding onto his shoulders you let your hips rise and fall onto his. Letting out heavy breaths of pleasure. “Fuck bunny,” Eddies head fell back.
“God daddy your dicks so good.”
“Yeah? Best dick you’ll ever get.”
“Only dick I want.” He looked at you then, took one of his big hands and squeezed it around your neck.
You paused in your bounce, letting out a choked moan. “Only dick you’re ever gonna have, cause your mine. Do you understand?” You nodded, unable to speak under his tight grip.
He simply said, “Bounce.” So you did. Slamming your hips, you moved erratically like you’d die without it - which you probably would.
He watched as his necklace bounced between your tits, it was a mouth watering sight.
Eddies ring covered hand squeezed every now and again, his other spanking you harder and harder as he got closer.
Your legs burned and you began to slow. “Is my bunny tired, you need daddy to do the work now?” He teased. With a nod of your head, Eddie let go of your throat.
Hands coming to rest on your waist, his feet lifted from the floor and onto the edge of the couch. Making him even deeper, you could feel him in your throat.
“I got you baby.” He thrusted deep into you making you scream in pleasure, slamming again and again. Over and over. “Fuck yes, such a good pussy, milk my fucking cock. Milk daddy’s dick.”
“Yes yes yes!” You screamed as you came for the second time. Squeezing him, Eddie let out his own grunt, pounding you. His cock getting deeper and deeper. “Fuck yes yes yes!” he chanted as you felt his cum squirt into you.
“Uh fuck yes!” you moaned, nails digging into his shoulder and your body shook, head falling to his neck. “Yes take it baby!” With a final thrust his hips fell down.
Heaving breathing was all that was heard.
“God damn, so how to make you not shy is to fuck you dumb?” Eddie laughed. Face sweaty. “Clearly so.” He swatted your ass again.
“Come on baby we better get cleaned up.”
“Can I stay the night?”
“Of course. We’ll call your parents after we shower okay?”
With a nod, Eddie took his cue, pulling out of you and stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist, arms around his neck.
One hand under your bare ass and one around your back Eddie spoke, “You know they say good things come in threes, reckon I could get another one out of you?”
You smirked, pecking his mouth. “Only one way to find out … daddy.”
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Sooooo … got a bit carried away 👀
Hope you enjoyed 😚
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cupcakeinat0r · 5 months
Text
Don’t mind me, just thinkin abt self-conscious Dad Bod! Miguel :,,(
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
Since y’all been together, he’s gained some weight which he isn’t too happy about. It’s not really him it bothers. He couldn’t care less if his stomach was pudgy or if his love handles were coming in, he was more worried about you losing your physical attraction towards him.
Miguel couldn’t be more wrong though. Especially since his ass got fatter, yum.
You could never stop yourself from smacking it every time you walked past him. He’d get embarrassed, then he’d try to get back you back, which he always did. Then it’d lead to a silly game of tag.
One day though, he was on the couch watching tv, wearing a tank top and some basketball shorts. You had just woken up and went to grab something to eat, but you stopped at the door of your shared bedroom, beholding the sight. He didn’t see you yet, but you quietly took a moment for yourself to just… admire him.
The way his bulging biceps and pecs were just sitting there, resting across the back of the couch. His man spread that gave you the perfect view of his massive thighs and what was in between, the shorts fitting just right, borderline too tight. And then the lack of abs that used to be there… but you weren’t complaining. In fact,
You loved that.
In his peripheral, Miguel notices you at the bedroom door. “Morning, sleeping beauty.”
“Good morning, handsome.” You say, smiling at the love of your life, stuck at the doorway and admiring him.
“Ven aqui conmigo, beba.” He motions for his lap, and naturally, you follow his request.
While the two of you hold a longing gaze, you straddle him, your hands resting on his chest. You share a tender kiss, the smacks of your lips turning the both of you on. Miguel moans into your mouth as he feels your hips lazily grind against him, his manhood twitching at the sensation. Your hands begin to trail down his belly, tugging upward at the hem of his tank top, but then he stops you, “Mmmwait… let’s- let’s keep that on, okay?”
You raise your eyebrow, confused at this. “Why? What’s wrong?” You murmur, genuinely concerned.
“No, I’m fine, it’s just… look, I know I’ve put on some weight, so you don’t have to do this if you don’t feel like it-“
“Miguel O’Hara,” You look at him sternly, “I absolutely do not care if you gain weight. I love you no matter what. Besides,” your face softens into a more seductive expression, “Ever heard of relationship weight? It just means I’m takin’ good care of my mans… aren’t I taking good care of you, baby?” You coo at him, your hands snaking their way to the hem of his top again.
He slowly nods, his self doubt and insecurities melting away at your words. “Now let me take this off, please? I wanna see all of my man.” He lets you pull off the tank top, revealing the mouth- watering dad bod he’s acquired since dating you.
Your eyes drink him up, your hands following pursuit. Miguel’s huge, calloused hands tighten on your hips, squeezing the flesh there, trying to gauge your reaction.
“God, just looking at you does things to me.” You mewl against his ear, peppering kisses along his thick neck. Your hips start again, the bulge just underneath your heat growing larger.
“Mmfuck, you mean it, baby?” he moans, voice strained, his face in complete euphoria.
“Every word.” You mutter, smothering his face in kisses as your hips go deeper and harder against his hardened cock.
“And I don’t wanna hear anymore of this nonsense, you hear me?” You continue speaking in between kisses, showering him with them on his cheeks, forehead, jaw, temple, anywhere, “you’re the most cutest,” smack, “most handsome,” smack, “most sexy,” smack, “most fine lookin’ man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You finally plant a desperate, much more needy kiss on his lips, your tongues dancing with each other.
“Mmm, yes ma’am.”
Long story short, you get him all riled up enough that he pushes you down into the couch and completely wrecks you while your wear a t shirt of his <3 Isn’t he just so dreamy??? <3333333
Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!
3K notes · View notes
ghouldump · 4 months
Text
one piece | calling them by their names
synopsis : calling your boyfriend (one piece men) by their real name, instead of their nickname, as a prank.
author’s note : hi ghouls! welcome to my blog, i hope you enjoy your stay. this first post is short, but i thought it was fun, i definitely plan to do more like this.
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monkey d. luffy.
he doesn't even realize you're saying luffy. he had been too distracted, thinking of what he would eat, as soon as the ship was docked in the nearest city.
"luffy, can you do me a favor?" you asked, focused on peeling the fruit. he nodded, before usopp nudged his shoulder.
"what did you do?"
"what?"
"is she upset or something?" he asked, the words dawning on the captain. you used his government, and not the name you had given him, lovebug.
why was he luffy now, and not lovebug? had he done something? impossible, all he had been doing all morning is thinking of the different meats he'd try-ah! perhaps you were in need of affection. it wasn't until becoming your s/o that he began to understand the need to give and receive affection.
stretching his arms, he pulled you close, taking away any personal space you had previously.
"y/n"
"yes?"
"please never call me anything other than lovebug," he said shamelessly, your heart warmed at his cuteness.
"aw, it was only a prank lovebug," you reassured, pecking his lips.
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roronoa zoro.
he immediately notices, and feels uncomfortable. after a minor heated conversation, you mischievously planned to make him feel guilty, only as a joke, of course.
"zoro, you should come get some food, you know sanji won't save you any," you called out, making sure to use his birth name, instead of the name he grew to enjoy, darling.
were you really so upset, you'd use such a name, when darling suited him better. the term flowed perfectly from your lips, when speaking to him, he couldn't understand why you'd want to use his name.
"what did you just call me?" he asked, towering over you, brows furrowed.
"zo-
"i know we were fighting, but you know how that makes me feel, calling me that," he grumbled. he always struggled with communication, but with you, he'd lowly shared how he felt, which always managed to move you deeply.
"darling, i was only joking," you laughed, as he sighed.
"good"
"but i was serious about sanji, and you know luffy is only willing to wait so long, before he devours the rest”
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usopp.
he won't notice immediately, but after a few times, he is in shambles. he was doing his usual theatrical story telling, and you had yet to spend any actual time with him.
"usopp"
"and there i was, everyone else was scared, but i knew i could save them-
"usopp"
"one second, honey"
"usopp," you repeated, nearly giggling as he visibly froze, realizing you had been calling him usopp, and not cutie patootie.
"excuse me fellas," he nodded at the surrounding group, leading you away from everyone, before holding each hand in his own.
"honey, is everything okay?" he asked, you seemed to be enjoying yourself before, laughing alongside nami, before she left you.
you were thinking of something to say, but the puppy dog eyes made you surrender quickly.
"it was only a harmless prank, my cutie patootie," you said, pecking his lips.
"you had me worried for a second," he said, scooping you into his arms, spinning around.
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vinsmoke sanji.
he will notice immediately, and will be in complete distress. you were helping him cook dinner, when you decided to mess with him. while he was flirting all the time, he was a bit more focused when cooking, and that could bore you at times.
"sanji, can you taste this?" you were whisking the cake batter, while he placed the roast into the oven.
"sanji-" you turned around, his jaw practically hanging on the floor.
"what have i done? scold me, i am a wretched man, how have i upset my queen so greatly, that you choose to use such a name," he said, going to his knees, holding your waist.
"sanji, it was only a prank, i was only messing around sweet pea," you told him, as he stood, embracing you.
"the apple of my eyes, you are, i hate when you call me anything other than your sweet pea," he spoke.
"if you two do anything near the food, i'm giving both of you terrible haircuts," zoro spoke, making you both jump, while he walked away.
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imnameimswrld · 2 months
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. . . ⵌ ׄ ۪ 𝐒𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ¹ ׄ ⑅ MV1 ‌˖ ֺ ᰮ
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— DESCRIPTION ੭ in short, you're done standing back when mr verstappen thinks he can push around your boyfriend like he wants.
— PAIRING ੭ max verstappen x gf!reader.
— FILE ੭ imagine.
— DISCLAIMERS ੭ 🔞 mdni, suggestive content, language, light mention of verbal abuse, max's parents are still together and he's dad's a total ass, also (currently) unedited.
❪ main masterlist | f1 masterlist | max verstappen masterlist ❫
━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━
Dinner was going so perfectly; aside from the lovely food, you too indulged in all the hilarious and adorable stories Mrs Verstappen had been so vibrantly been dishing out for you. Max was red in the face with embarrassment, your hand comfortable in his as he caresses it in his lap.
His siblings would join in on the conversation whenever they saw the opportune moment to shut down whatever lie their brother concocted on the spot to try and get himself out of a playful scolding from his mom, and it all just warmed your heart to see how happy he seemed in the moment.
But then, someone just had to speak up from his quiet spot at the head of the table and piss all over his content mood.
"Max, meet me outside for a drink. I'd like to talk to you."
To the ears of a stranger Mr Verstappen's words would sound like a simple request, to which Max could easily decline and just continue sitting in the comfortability of his family. However, you've been around for long enough to recognize that tone; it's no request.
It's an order.
His father stands, wine glass in hand, and steps away without another word as he leaves towards the back door. Once he's gone, a shivering silence settles over the table. His siblings look everywhere but their brother, Mrs Verstappen all but sighs softly and starts to clean up the table, and Max stares done at your hand in his.
"Max," you start, tightening your grip. "Just, stay here," you try, and when he looks up with a small smile that does nothing but claw at your heart, you try another tactic. "Or let's just go home. We can have some ice-cream, watch that weird documentary you're you're obsessed with, I can even-"
"I'll be only a few minutes schatjie, then we can leave, okay ?" he rubs over your hand, probably hoping it would ease your racing your heart.
It doesn't.
"Max," you begin again, hesitant eyes watching as he rises from his chair beside you and gently places your hands in your own lap.
"Help mom clean up, will you please ? I'll be back in a minute love." you want to protest yet again, but nothing comes out of you parted lips when he places a kiss to the crown of your head, before walking away, softly shutting the sliding door to the backyard behind him.
Taking a breath, you try to calm yourself as you stand to help Mrs Verstappen with clearing the table. You try your best to focus on anything else, but knowing that all his father is doing right now is being mean and belittling his son is gnawing at your insides in a way that has molten hot anger simmering in your gut.
Everyone in Max's family are such lovely, kind people – and then you get his poor excuse of a father.
You don't even realise you have the ends of the table cloth balled up in your molded right fists until there's a sharp poke in your ribs. Turning, you gaze meets eyes that so closely resemble Max's, it almost always makes you smile.
"Go." Victoria nods her head towards the back door, and you momentarily look back, before meeting his eyes that match the worry you feel inside.
It's just one word, but it holds all the emotions she's feeling and with hos strong they are, it gives you the green light. With a short nod, you turn on your heel and take long, determined strides towards the glass door.
When you open it, it seems your disrupt the conversion at just the right moment.
"She's going to become a distraction, Max. All you've worked for and currently working towards, is going to be for nothing."
"I sorely disagree, sir."
The two men's heads whirl at the sudden entrance of your voice, and the confidence that colours your face has Max weak in his knees, feeling as if he's falling in love with you all over again.
His father's spine straightens at the sight of you as you join Max by his side, his arm instinctively coming up to rest his hand at the small of your back.
"This conversation does not concern you, Ms L/N."
You hum once with a bitter smile. "From what I heard, Mr Verstappen, it seems as it does."
He locks his jaw, hand tightening around his wine glass so harshly you think it's just seconds from shattering in his hand.
"Max, I've told you to keep this one in check before she-"
"Do not speak of her as if she's not right in front of you, Jos," Max's gaze darkens to the blue of the bottom of the ocean, and it has your insides curling in pride.
He only ever truly gets upset when his father disrespect you, otherwise he just stands quietly to entertain the nonsense coming out of his mouth, knowing he'll soon leave and enjoy all the true love you shower him I'm everyday later.
"And quite frankly, I like my girlfriend exactly how she is," he smirks, fingers massaging the revealing skin of your back from the cropped shirt you were wearing. "Snippy tongue and all."
It's true, you smile; he especially loves it when you have that same tongue down his throat, or wrapped around his cock.
It seems Max has that same thought in mind, because despite his father's furious gaze staring down at him, he can't seem to rid the naughty smirk from hid face, his hand now sliding down to fall into your back pocket.
He squeezes once, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the moan back.
"Now, if you're done trying to convince me what a failed son I am, I'm going to head home with my snippy-tongued girlfriend." he pats your jean-clad ass one softly, before pulling his hand to wrap his arm around your waist.
"Dag Jos. Ik hoop dat ik je blijf irriteren, het is mijn favoriete spel ( Bye Jos. I hope I continue to piss you off, it's my favouritesport !) !" you wave your fingers in an obnoxious manner, smile so sweet you hope it rots every damned tooth in his shitty mouth.
Max's deep, honey-draped chuckle rings in your ear, his voice low in the most pussy-wetting manner. "You know what you speaking Dutch does to me, schatjie."
Batting your eyelashes, you smile. "Oh, ik weet het (Oh, I know)."
A gravely groan resonates from his throat, his bany blues trained down on your glossy lips. "Ik kan niet wachten om je te neuken (I can't wait to fuck you)."
━━━━━━━━━━❪ 🖤 ❫━━━━━━━━━━
✍: I might be writing a part 2, but that one will contain smut soooo if you're not into reading that, don't ! ♡ ... but if you arrreeeeee, hehe, stay tuned 🎀.
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strangerstilinski · 2 months
Text
𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It’s like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
“Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you are hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and the boy's chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I don't think any of us were that invested hearing you talk about the ‘big tip’ that some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve, c'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugged, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet. It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just 'cause you're a jackass that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you as the rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“Well I don't care if some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “So, I guess, if that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, and I'm able to do so without acting like a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? That was the highlight of your day, because the rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. You'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks squelching wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd burned yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had no choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what? Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of the turn in your evening.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, like he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm still struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
Steve's voice does make you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around. Your steps finally come to a stop when he calls out to you again.
“C'mon, honey wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath as he finally catches up with you, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that’s begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back around. You lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. There’s warmth seeping into your palms from beneath Steve’s tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from inside. Your eyes are level with his chin, wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You’re still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly.
It’s only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face smelling of the gum he’s always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he’s leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can’t think, and you’re not sure you’re even breathing, but his lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You’re gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve’s arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when your lips separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you’re gasping comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve’s quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
“You kissed me.” The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — casual, tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he’s kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve’s breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D’you want me to stop?”
“No. Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The light shining above your heads catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to shut you up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it takes ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It’s like there are hearts in his eyes.
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standfucker · 4 months
Note
Hello!! I've been thinking about an AFAB reader in the straw hat crew who dresses as a man. Short hair and masculine clothes that cover her up. She doesn't want people treating her differently or going easy on her in fights because of her gender hence her constant charade. Because of this the crew doesn't know that she is actually woman. I'd like to request drabbles of how Zoro, Sanji, And Luffy would react when finding out and where they would. Also, SFW please!
This was fun! ^^ Thanks for submitting a request! I tried to keep these a consistent length and failed. Each one ended up longer than the last... I'll have to keep trying harder to pace myself.
Discovering Your Secret - Monster Trio
CW: chest binding, canon-typical violence, injury (not described in detail), gun violence, battle trauma, nudity, awkwardness
Luffy
Group bathing was one bonding activity on the Sunny that you had to miss out on. Shyness wasn’t like you, but the guys chalked it up to a weird personality quirk and long since stopped questioning it. Some people liked their privacy, no big deal. Really, it was never a problem until Luffy barged into the bathroom one day while you were soaking, the door swinging open so hard it bounced back shut behind him.
You tried to shout that the bathroom was occupied, but it was drowned out by Luffy’s own yell of “GUM GUM CANNONBALL!” The next thing you knew, Luffy had somehow launched himself out of his clothes and into the tub, making a massive splash that took out half the water. It was only by sheer luck that he didn’t collide with you. 
Instantly you sank down low into the remaining water so only your head was above the surface. The clear water offered no protection, however, so you had to cover your chest and cross your legs. Embarrassment and panicky fear were rotten feelings to have when you had just gotten relaxed, and you found yourself getting angry on top of it all. This was such a stupid way to be found out, and it was only because your captain lacked any self-awareness.
Luffy came up with a laugh, then opened his eyes and blinked at you for a second. “Oh, hey!” he said, oblivious to your stress. “I didn’t know you were in here! Robin told me she just drew a bath, so I came in. Didn’t hear the rest of what she said–I guess she drew it for you! Shi shi shi.”
You stared at him, open-mouthed, too stunned to speak right away.
Luffy’s brows raised when you didn’t respond. “Oh, that’s right, you don’t like to bathe with others. Sorry!” “Luffy?” you tried, but he kept talking.
”Well, I’m here now, so we might as well share! We can wash each other’s backs.”
”Luffy.”
”What are you so shy for, anyway? You look fine to me.”
”Luffy!” you snapped.
”What?”
”Get out!”
”But I’m already wet!” he complained, and you mentally screamed at his stubbornness.
”Then I’ll get out! But you have to look away!” you barely managed to keep from yelling at him, trying not to lose your cool lest he get suspicious.
Luffy pursed his lips. “Fine, sheesh. I won’t look.”
He turned his head away. You hesitated, then quickly stood up and made to leave. You took one step onto the tub–and immediately slipped, thanks to the water Luffy splashed there a moment ago. A yelp left you as you fell fast.
”Y/N!” Right before you hit the tub, Luffy’s arms shot out and wrapped around you, pulling you safely back inside. “That was close!”
You froze in place, heart in your throat both from the fall and from your new position. Luffy’s arms were wrapped around your torso. He could clearly feel your chest against his rubbery arms. You gaped at him, wide-eyed in shock. Luffy smiled. Then he squeezed you again and frowned. Slowly, he looked down at your chest, then down even further.
”WHAT?!” Luffy yelled in shock, his eyes bugging out. “Y/N got attacked by Iva?! But when did you meet him?!”
You facepalmed hard.You’d heard about Ivankov through Luffy’s stories, so you had an idea of what he was talking about. But he missed the mark so hard it was astonishing.
Luffy quickly unwound his arms from around you and covered his face, stammering. “I’m sorry, Y/N! I had no idea!”  
Even though your own face was hot, you couldn’t help but start to laugh, though it was a bit nervous. As you carefully exited the tub, toweling off and pulling on a robe, you contemplated letting Luffy go on believing you were attacked by Iva. But then you would have to make up a story about meeting him, and lying to your bright-eyed captain seemed wrong. He meant well, after all.
Maybe this whole charade was unfair to him. Luffy couldn’t hold onto a secret to save his life anyway, so once he knew, the whole crew would know too. Still…though it would be a big change for you, it would be one less thing to worry about…
You draped your towel along the edge of the tub and perched on it, crossing your arms. “What did we learn about respecting people’s privacy?”
”I’m sorry,” Luffy said, peeking through his fingers before lowering his hands. “I didn’t know you had a reason…I won’t do it again! But when did you cross paths with Iva? During the two years I was away?”
”No, Luffy. I’ve never met Ivankov.” You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I’ve been a girl this whole time. I was just pretending to be male.”
”Whaaat!? Really?” Luffy’s eyes bugged out at you again. “But why?”
You did your best to explain your reasons. Luffy only seemed to grow more confused as you went on, crossing his arms and tilting his head.
”I don’t get it. Nami and Robin are strong,” he said.
“Never said they weren’t,” you replied patiently. “But Nami and Robin get underestimated constantly. Maybe they’re used to it, but I can’t stomach the idea. It’s insulting.”
“Hmm…” Luffy thought for a second. “Does this mean we can’t wrestle anymore?”
“Of course we can! The whole point is that I don’t want you to treat me differently!”
“Oh… Oh! I see!” Luffy said, his eyes lighting up with realization. “Okay then! I’ll whoop your butt like normal!”
A warm feeling filled your chest, and you smiled. Now he was catching on, and he didn’t seem to mind. The relief was almost dizzying.
You asked Luffy to try to keep it a secret for now.
He lasted about three weeks, until he asked you one day, point-blank in front of the others: “Hey, Y/N? Where do your boobs go when you get dressed?”
Zoro
“Behind you!”
Zoro’s shout made you whirl around, raising your weapon, but your opponent was already on the downswing. Their sword cut your chest open from clavicle to rib. Pain sizzled out from the gash, hot and burning, but in addition to that, you could feel that your binder was damaged, freeing your breasts. You grit your teeth through the pain and managed to strike your foe down. Then you hunched over yourself, arms crossed over your chest, quivering. The warm blood on your arms told you this one might be serious, but despite the wound, all that was on your mind was getting found out.
Zoro rushed to your side, mowing down foes as he went until he was there. “Did they get you? Let me see.” But you shook your head. “Let me see!” he insisted, an edge of panic to his voice as blood dripped onto the ground below you.
You looked up at him with visible fear, which he misunderstood. “You’re going to be okay, but you have got to let me see.”
Shaking, you lowered your arms, revealing your wound and your secret all at once.
Zoro’s eyes widened, momentarily speechless. Then he snapped out of it, hurriedly taking off his shirt and wrapping it around your torso. He picked you up, one arm supporting your bottom while the other tucked you against his chest to hide your front. You pressed your face into his shoulder, discomposed from the shock of the injury and from the sudden reveal.
What would he think of you now? All the times you arm wrestled, all the times you sparred, all the drinking contests and shared conversations and shared fights–would you never experience them again? You kept asking yourself those questions as Zoro took you out of the slowing battle.
Chopper was shocked, but promised to keep your secret. However, after he found out that you’d been binding your chest with bandages almost 24-7, he scolded you harshly, going on about how you could permanently damage your body.
At your request, Zoro’s the only one Chopper let visit you in the ship’s infirmary. For a while, Zoro didn’t say anything, just stared at your bandaged chest with an unreadable expression.
“I wanted you to respect me,” you said, breaking the silence. He didn’t respond. “I could never be your equal otherwise. Please understand.”
Zoro looked down at you and gave a heavy sigh, eyes distant for a moment. “...You remind me of someone I used to know.” He sat on the edge of your bed, some softness to his gaze now. “I get it. I get why you hid this. But you’re an idiot.”
”I know. I let myself get hurt.”
”No, dummy. Because you treated the crew like we wouldn’t understand. You didn’t trust us. It makes sense in the beginning, but after all these years?” He frowned at you, and you realize that deep down, he was hurt.
”I didn’t want anything to change between us.” You looked away, ashamed. “Between you and me.”
”It doesn’t have to.”
”You don’t like to fight women.”
Zoro grimaced at the accusation, knowing you’re right. The infirmary was quiet for a minute.
”I’m sorry,” Zoro finally said. “I’ll…I’ll do better. Nothing has to change.” He paused, and offered up a smirk. “After all, I go easy on you anyways.”
You feel yourself tear up at his acceptance, and grinned back at him. “Once I heal up, I’ll make you regret that.” You paused, face falling. “You won’t tell anyone, right? I don’t want Sanji to…you know.”
“Yeah.” Zoro made a face at the cook’s name. ”It’ll stay between the three of us,” he promised. “I still think you should tell them, but it’s not my secret to share.”
”Maybe in time. I’ll have to think about it,” you said, and he nodded.
Zoro held out his hand. You clasped it in a big swing, grimacing when it made your wound sting, and squeezed as tightly as you could.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Zoro said, squeezing back. “Okay? We’re still buds.”
”Okay.” Again, you felt the tears threatening to spill.
”But if you cry, I’ll make fun of you.”
”Shut up!”
Once Zoro realizes you were hindered by the binder for all of your matches against him, he got fired up. All the times he won, you had a handicap–it wasn’t a fair match, he decided. However, there wasn’t really a place on the ship where you could take it off in front of others, so he was forced to remain undecided on the topic of which one of you is stronger.
It wasn’t until you revealed your secret to the others that you and Zoro finally got to have a proper, no-holds-barred sparring session. True to his word, he didn’t hold back, too battle-hungry to care if he touched your chest when you wrestled or exchanged blows. (Sanji snarled in the background, but neither of you were paying him any attention.)
As it turned out, when you let your aching ribs heal and could breathe properly, you were far better than you were before. You ended up almost defeating the swordsman, and he was so proud of you that he threw an arm around your shoulders and noogied your head until you were certain he left track marks in your skull. “That’s my girl!”
Sanji
The impact of your sword against your opponent’s knocked the weapons out of the both of your hands. Undeterred, you dashed forward to take them on barehanded, confident in your unarmed strength. Right as you reached them, they drew a hidden flintlock from their back belt, and touched the muzzle to your forehead.
You froze. The battlefield seemed to fade away, nothing solid or corporeal except for the gun to your head. You couldn’t hear anything but the blood rushing in your ears, feel anything but the cold steel pressed to your skull. Everything rushed through your head in one synaptic burst, a thousand million thoughts of how soon, how final this was. All the years of adventure, ending here. One slip-up. You were going to die.
You couldn’t even feel regret. Just the sensation of your heart beating as if it was in every blood vessel. You didn’t hear the call of your name, nor the shouted “Diable Jambe!”
In the time it took for your opponent to squeeze his trigger finger, Sanji appeared seemingly out of nowhere and kicked the guy’s hand so hard you saw it break. The gun fired into the ground a few feet away from you, and with another burning kick, Sanji knocked him out.
You were in shock, standing there unharmed, but useless. Sanji took notice, calling for you again. When you didn’t respond, he rushed to you and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you hard. “Get it together! We still need you!”
Suddenly the sound, the sensation, everything came rushing back, hitting you all at once. You blinked, glanced at the surrounding battle, then at Sanji’s tense expression.
“Y/N!”
“I’m okay!” you said. “T-Thanks. I’m okay.” With that, you rushed for your fallen sword, ready to rejoin the battle.
It wasn’t your first brush with death, but this one rattled you worse than the others. After the battle you dwelled on it constantly, thinking back to that moment and breaking out into a cold sweat even though you’d just cleaned up. You couldn’t think about anything else, focus on anything going on around you. You skipped dinner, stomach too upset to eat, and were barely able to sleep despite your exhaustion from the day’s battle. You skipped breakfast the following day, and only around lunchtime did your mind seem to catch up to your body. You watched Luffy and the crew mess around, playing and laughing and arguing, and suddenly you realized that you almost lost this forever. Immediately, the urge to cry overtook you with tremendous force. You hurried through the ship’s interior, shoved yourself into a corner, and sobbed into your hands.
Dead. Oh god, you were almost dead. How was it that easy? All the strength you had worked so hard to build, meaningless. How could you have been so overconfident? How could you have let yourself lose so easily? Had Sanji not been there, you would have been gone. Gone.
The tears ran hot down your cheeks, and you bit your tongue to keep from being loud. It could have gone so much worse. Sanji was dependable, but tended to keep his eye on the girls during fights. He only saved you because you were close by. It was sheer luck that he saved you. Only luck.
“Y/N!”
Sanji’s call of your name made you go quiet. You resisted the urge to sniffle, even as your nose ran. If he found you…it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but you’d rather not be caught crying. You spent years building the image of the stoic, masculine fighter, and would prefer to keep up that appearance. Sanji called you again, closer this time, and you cleared your throat.
“Yeah?” you called out.
“Lunch is ready, so hurry on down,” he announced from the doorway, just out of your vision.
It took you a minute to gather yourself, but after washing your face and regulating your breathing, you were ready to rejoin the group once more.
In the weeks following, you dealt with your shock and processed it the best that you could. Eventually you started sleeping better again, your appetite returned, and life seemed to go on as normal…except for one thing: Sanji. He started acting strangely when he was nearby.
It started off small. He was far more pleasant around you than he normally was. Not that you and Sanji held animosity toward each other, but usually he treated you like another male: friendly enough if you weren’t Zoro, but not to this degree. He never really brightened up at the sight of you before. Nor did he ask for your opinion in his upcoming meal plan for the week. At first you chalked it up to him noticing your earlier distress somehow, but after you got better, he kept on acting saccharine.
One day, he brought you a drink. Not served you at the table with everyone else, but went out of his way to bring it to where you were sunbathing on the deck. You could only stare at him until he awkwardly left it by your side, stammered something about the heat, and then left.
Incidents like that kept happening, usually out of sight of the other crewmates, but not always. The others started picking up on it too. At one point, Sanji brought Robin, Nami, and Chopper slices of cake–and then brought you a plate as well. That time, everyone’s eyes were on him, but Sanji pretended like nothing was off.
When he chirped “Hi, Y/N-chan,” to you as he passed by you in the hall, you had enough. You grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. He immediately knew he messed up, but despite your fingers fisted in his collar and your murderous expression, he only flushed red.
“What are you doing?” you hissed.
“I–I’m–” Sanji stammered. Blood started to run from one of his nostrils.
“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded. “Being all sappy and disgusting to me. Who do you think I am?”
“I–I’m sorry,” Sanji tried. You grit your teeth, beginning to fear the worst.
“Did you lose all respect for me when you saved my life?” you asked bluntly.
“Of course not! I think highly of you.”
“Too much so, don’t you think?” you had to struggle not to shout. “Is this because you heard me crying last month?”
Sanji shut his mouth, glancing aside and giving away the answer. He nodded.
“Am I weak to you or something?”
“No, that’s not it–” he tried, but you pulled him away from the wall and slammed him back into it.
“I don’t understand! You’re too soft with me. Why are you treating me so nicely?”
“Because you’re a woman, and women deserve the best.” He said it unflinchingly and with conviction, looking right back into your eyes.
The answer was obvious, but a part of you still hoped it was something else, hoped that because he didn’t go overboard with his affections that he didn’t know. Your grip on his collar weakened and gave away along with your hopes, hands hanging limply at your sides.
“When did you find out?” you asked quietly. “Or should I say, how?”
“I saw you crying.” Sanji pulled out a handkerchief, wiping his nose.
“So?”
“You may look and act like a man…but a woman’s tears leave no room for doubts.”
You stared at him in disbelief. Unfair. That’s what this was. Just unfair. Because after all those years living as a male, you got found out because of Sanji’s freakish sixth sense for women. Your sigh was heavy, and you had to rest your head in your hand for a moment.
“Okay, well, we need to set some things straight. You can’t keep slipping up around me, or the others will find out. They already suspect something’s up.”
“I'm trying!” Sanji retorted. “I knew you were hiding it for some reason, so I tried to keep myself in check! Do you know how hard it’s been?”
“How hard it’s been?” You wanted to punch him. “You have no idea what I go through every day just to keep up appearances! Just to earn the regard I deserve! Why couldn't you respect me as a man?”
“I don't respect men.”
“Ugh!” You punched the wall by his head instead. Sanji didn’t flinch. “You have to take me seriously.”
“I am!”
“We can’t keep going like this.” You bit your lip in frustration, trying to think of a solution. Maybe you could use his weird complex around women to your advantage, if he would just stop giving it away. “Okay, listen. Sanji. If you really want to do me a favor, the best thing you can do is help me keep my secret. That means whenever you have the urge to treat me like a girl, you nip it in the bud. Can you do that?”
“I…I’ll try.” Sanji went to take your hand, but you yanked it away.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about! You can’t be so familiar.”
“I’m sorry. It’s hard! I–I want to treat you right. I want to be close to you.”
“I want to be close to you to,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “But I. I’d… I’d rather hold onto my secret.”
He looked hurt, which sent a cold pang of guilt into your stomach. Reaching out, you patted his shoulder. “I’m depending on you, do you understand?”
Sanji took in your expression–serious, worried, uncertain–and nodded. The hand that reached for yours instead went over his heart. “I promise,” he said, “I will do everything I can to help keep your secret.”
The talk with Sanji helped massively, fixing his odd behavior around you for the most part. There was one thing he couldn’t give up, and that was giving you a nickname. He called you something in French–“mon petit chou,” he would say–but as it was foreign, you figured it was safe to use around the crew, and let it slide.
It was only a few months later that you learned Robin was fluent in French.
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hyperfixat · 4 months
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HI!! i have decided on a posting schedule for this fic!! once a month, every month on the 25th, i hope you look forward to it <3 due to someone asking i will have a taglist, so please leave a comment or ask (i won’t post if you ask me not to) to join. any comments or reblogs mean a lot, thank you all for the support i have received.
also, dunno if i mentioned; while the reader is intended to be inclusive toward everyone they are, in the canon of me writing them, bisexual. everything else is up to interpretation
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** Written PRE 1.5 – Any mentions of new characters is pure speculation and or headcanons.
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The Astral Express decides to stop at the Xianzhou Luofu first, then wrap things up on Jarilo VI. According to Pompom the train’s warp is near instant, so they won’t set for take off until the early hours of tomorrow.
Due to them being the first to offer, that night you spend in Caelus’ room. It’s pretty bare bones, an uneven mix of Dan Heng literally living in the archives and March 7th’s tasteful over decoration.
They offer their bed to you, willing to sleep on their relaxing-chair, but Caelus is the proud owner of a queen size bed. Long story short, their bed is large enough to share, and you do.
Initially you had fallen asleep on separate ends, but throughout the night, you migrated closer, making it so that when you crack your dry eyes open as the lights at Herta’s station turn on for the day, you’re greeted with front row seats to Caelus’ face.
After the initial fluster of emotions, you calm your body and mind and get ready to seize the day.
“So who, here, are we gathering up, again?” March questions you merrily, holding a hand out to help you off the express and onto the landing port.
“I hope everyone will still be here,” you muse, basking in the cool air of the flagship. “Will the Stellaron Hunters be here, you think?”
“Probably,” Dan Heng affirms, moving to stand next to you. You glance at him and smile.
“There’s Jing Yuan, Loucha, Fu Xuan, Bailu, Yukong,” you briefly consider mentioning Jinglui or Tingyun, but decide against it. “Yanqing, and of course Blade, Kafka, and Silver Wolf.”
“I doubt Silver Wolf will be here in person,” Caelus nods. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her not as one of her fancy holograms.”
The six of you, the whole Express minus the conductor, casually walk through the scape of the Central Starskiff Haven, taking in the sights.
The weather (which is likely simulated) is nice and cool enough not to warrant you drowning in sweat. March 7th casually slips her arm through yours, tugging you closer to her. Your gaits are forced to be in sync, but you weren’t walking that much differently than her.
“Be gentle with them, March,” Himeko lightly chides. Her hand falls on your other shoulder, lightly squeezing.
“I’m fine, Ms Himeko,” you reply lightly laughing. “March wasn’t rough.”
“Oh? Well if it isn’t the Astral Express!” Jing Yuan is walking at your group, crossing the flow of walking traffic. He’s so much larger than the game made him seem; he’s taller and broader (especially in the chest) than his game model portrayed. His hair looks shiny and smooth, and you’re staring, aren’t you? Alluring golden eyes meet yours, “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
You don’t want to speak, too afraid you’ll make an absolute fool out of yourself in front of the General.
“Hey Jing Yuan,” Caelus, ever the angel, redirects his attention. “We need to have a meeting with you and a few others later on. Are you free this evening?”
“Hm?” Jing Yuan gives a distracted sound of affirmation. “Indeed, I am.”
The next person you run into is Master Diviner, Fu Xuan. The short pink haired girl (Fu Xuan in this instance, not March 7th) looks up at the commotion of your group’s entrance.
“The Astral Express and… friend. How can I help you today?”
Caelus and March help lead the introductions throughout the day and before you know it you’ve tracked down Qingque, Loucha, Sushang, and are now on the hunt for the hunters.
“Are we sure they’re here?” You ask after another detour down an Aurum Alley backstreet leads to nothing. “Could they be… I don’t know… at their secret base?”
Welt frowns, resting his weight onto his cane as he comes to a stop next to you. “We can only keep looking, as we don’t know where that so-called secret base is. If we don’t find them soon,” he sighs. “We will have our discussion without them.”
Your group resigns to having your meeting with the Xianzhou Luofu residents without the Stellaron Hunters.
Qingque listens to what you say with a blank, contemplative face, her hands fiddling with her Mahjong pieces, fingers rubbing the smooth finish. She looks at you when you move your gaze away, eyes watching you curiously.
“I know it’s hard to believe,” you finish off your mini-speech. “But, please, you all are vital parts of this world and its story, and I don’t know who else to turn to.”
Loucha has long set his coffin down beside him, letting the thing take up an entire chair’s space. Jing Yuan looks across the table at the blond man, “what do you make of this situation?”
“It sounds absurd.” The voice didn’t come from your table. You lift your head and look around the empty plaza.
“Silver Wolf?” When you utter her name, her hologram flickers beside you. She’s semi-opaque and looks down at you.
“You know my name.” Silver Wolf aprases you. “That does help prove your point, I’ll give you that.” Her gaze moves to a well maintained shrub across the way, “I think it’s legit, Kafka.”
“Kafka?” Jing Yuan’s eyebrow raises. At that moment her well maintained, elegant form slips out from the branches of the bush. She pulls out a stray leaf from her hair and nods at the General.
“How intriguing.” Kafka switches her focus to you, “if what you say is indeed true…”
“It is.” You say before you can stop yourself. Her eyebrow lifts at your eager reply.
Fu Xuan crosses her legs and stares harshly at the wine haired woman. “You are a wanted criminal on the Xianzhou Luofu.”
Kafka gasps, faux hurt on her face. Her hand lays over her chest, right where her heart is. “Imprisoning me would be against your better interests regarding this one right here.” She says, referring to you. “If Elio were to know of how this little one has come to our world, who would be able to ask if not me?”
“Silver Wolf could, no?” Fu Xuan bites back. When her gaze moves to where Silver Wolf’s hologram was though, she has disappeared. Kafka giggles softly.
“I take it that is a no,” Jing Yuan chuckles.
“A game…” Qingque muses softly. Sushang, seated beside her, nabs a lone Mahjong tile, flipping it in the air idly. “It’s so odd. I have a whole life of memories, yet you say I am only built to be a side piece for entertainment.”
You look down at your lap, face feeling hot with shame at ever evening playing Honkai Star Rail. It’s not like you could have known…
Madam Yukong hums, “while I am inclined to believe you, is there any proof you can offer us? Something you know that would otherwise be unexplainable?”
Loucha is silent in his seat. “How much do you know about us?” He seems troubled.
You think, wondering where the question came from at the same moment a certain cutscene comes to mind. Loucha was somewhere he shouldn’t have been and is carrying more than just a coffin laden with secrets around.
“As a general rule of thumb, I won’t be revealing anything possibly hurtful or incriminating about anyone here.” You sigh, a line of worry coming across your forehead. This is all a lot to deal with. “I… I will do my best not to infringe on any of your private lives.”
“Hey now,” March puts on a sympathetic tone and pets the crown of your head. “I’m fine with you infringing on my private life.” The words most definitely contain an innuendo that you don’t think anyone at the table failed to miss.
With pink cheeks Dan Heng says as well, “You have become somewhat important to me in the limited time we’ve known each other. I would not object to having a more private relationship with you.”
Rounding back to the Foxian’s question you address her. “I mean, yeah, I could tell you what I know of your lives, but honestly? It’s mostly trauma, and sad, sad things.”
Yukong takes a long pause, lips thinning. “I see. I will lend you my trust for now, though I wish to have a private moment with you later on.”
The whole table shares with you that you have no need to worry about forging bonds with them, and it makes you tear up a bit. “That’s very kind of you all, thank you.” Once the emotional moment has come and gone, you realize the absence of one key character.
“Kafka, where’s Blade?”
Her face, that remained unchanging for the whole duration of the conversation, falls slightly. “The Mara is harsh on him today.”
“Oh,” you’d almost forgotten about the Mara. The affliction that curses those who don’t die by it, leading Blade into an undying fate of misery. “I would like to talk to him and fill him in on me being here.”
“He will come and find me soon enough. Wait here with me, darling.” A warm feeling covers your face and chest at the pet name she gives you. Everything about this woman makes you feel crazy….
“Leave them alone with you?” March's tone makes it clear how much she detests the idea. “No way!”
Kafka pouts, eyes lidding as she looks over at the girl, “would you rather I take them to meet Bladie?”
Caelus calls your name, meeting your eyes considerately. “You played our world as a game, so you must have an answer to this. Do you trust Kafka to bring you no harm if we leave your side?”
Now that… it’s not like you’re alone in a desolate place with her. Screaming is always an option. The thought of spending time alone with her makes your heart beat faster and fills your head with its sound. You got sidetracked, imagining sitting side by side with the woman… rather you should focus on the question at hand.
“Yes.” It’s half true. You wonder if her Elio has given her orders regarding anyone from other worlds. Hopefully nothing like ‘eliminate them on sight.’
The Xianzhou Luofu and Astral Express crew bid you goodbyes, Himeko making a point to narrow her eyes threateningly at Kafka as she exits the pavilion.
Kafka drags a chair out next to you and leans on her elbows, gazing at you. You force yourself to maintain calm, even breaths, willing and praying for the heat in your face to dissipate.
The two of you sit there in silence for a moment.
“I wonder if Elio foresaw me coming into this world,” you muse, gazing into Kafka’s pupil-less eyes. The color, a captivating mix of red wine and magenta, doesn’t give away emotion.
“I doubt it.” Her words are floaty and smooth, “As much as I don’t want to admit that, but your existence seems beyond even Elio’s grasp of understanding.”
“Will…” those words send an uncomfortable feeling down your spine. “Will he be angry about that?”
“Who’s to say?” Though in her unchanging eyes you swear you see a hint of amusement. “Though the way you captivate the hearts and minds of everyone you come across, I don’t believe you to be in any danger.”
Well, at least you don’t have to worry about being nuked or anything at the moment. That’s a relief.
Occasionally making small talk, the sun sets on the Loufu as you and Kafka watch. It’s quite intimate for having just met today, but you find your head leaning on her shoulder, breathing in her scent.
While the sky is painted twilight purple, Blade finally makes his presence.
His gait is cool and slow and had you not known of his Mara-Struck status you would think he’s calm and relaxed. His red pupils dilate when he catches sight of you, and they flick over to Kafka where they stay.
“I am late.” He says, though does not apologize.
“Don’t worry about it, Bladie, I had plenty of time to learn about this little one.” Kafka rubs the back of her hand on your cheek, the rings unnaturally cool against your face. It envokes a rush of heat to your face, making you divert your gaze to Blade, who takes the seat next to you.
You’re caged in between the two most beautiful, cool, and awesome Stellaron Hunters. Breathe. Just breathe and don’t pass out or get a bloody nose, because that’d be so cringe.
Kafka’s laugh twinkles in the air like wind chimes at your reaction.
“Are you planning on staying with the Astral Express?” Blade probes. He traces the planes of your face mentally, taking in every detail that graces you.
“Oh?” Kafka leans across you to tease her… (dog) comrade. “Recruiting them already, are we?”
Recruiting you? Are they trying to get you to join their organization? What use would you be as a Stellaron Hunter? You have no battle experience (how would battle even work? Turn based fighting, even in the real world?), so you’re useless there. You have some tech know-how, but clearly nowhere near Silver Wolf’s talent. All you have is— oh.
They want your knowledge about being from beyond this world, don’t they? That revelation brings a sour feeling to your soul. So you weren’t being paid attention to out of genuine interest rather they’re using how you react so positively to being fawned over to gain your favor.
You pull back, away from Kafka and Blade. The chair scrapes the pavement painfully, shrieking as it does so. Both of their gazes flash over to you.
“Where are you headed off to little one?” Kafka calls for you as you gather yourself and stand. Blade remains silent, but his gaze makes up for it in intensity. Though with Kafka’s eyes being clouded and without pupils, it’s not a high calling.
“Restroom.” You lie comfortably.
“Let me come with you,” Kafka says, moving to standing as well.
Even if you do not use the same restroom, you shake your head. “It’s okay, I’ll be back,” maybe.
Himeko finds you wandering Central Starskiff Haven alone, her fiery hair flowing behind her as she speeds up her walk to a brisk pace. She calls out your name, making you look up and offer a half smile.
“Ms Himeko.” You greet.
When she reaches your side, she wraps a lean arm around your shoulders, and tugs you a tad bit closer. Her sweet perfume feels like a second hug.
“Did Kafka abandon you?” Himeko’s words bring a more genuine smile to your face, and respond lightly.
“I didn’t want to continue the conversation we were having.”
Her hand strokes over your hair, “hm? Do you want to elaborate on that or would you rather not breach that topic for now?” You wrap your arms around her waist, seeking comfort, and ignoring the way her golden accessories dig into your torso.
“I want to go home,” you reply quietly, speaking into her skin. Though you don’t know if you wish to go to your home, your home in the real world, or simply seek out the safety and privacy of the Astral Express.
“Let’s get you home, then.” Himeko keeps you close as you navigate through the thinning crowds. Her arms are sturdy as she keeps you close from other pedestrians.
“Where are the others?” you wonder idly. Perhaps they took the time to catch up with the Xianzhou Luofu locals. You hope they won’t leave early for your sake, childishly running away when things don’t go quite the way you’d wanted. That’d make you feel far worse than you already do.
“I believe Caelus and General Jing Yuan are training with Yanqing,” Himeko begins. “March is at the Divination Commision. Welt and Dan Heng are in the Exalting Sanctum. As for the native citizens, I can’t say I paid much attention to where they headed off to.”
You nod contemplatively. “Can we get something to drink, or eat, before we head back to the Express?” It seems like a decent way to spend the time, and your body seems to have realized that you haven’t eaten much today.
Himeko agrees, and both of you find your way to an outdoor table at the Sleepless Earl, the both of you nursing Immortal’s Delights and sharing a new cake they’re testing out. Mengming was eager to offer up the slice to you both, and well, free food is free food. It’s delicious too.
At a certain point you realize just how much of a date it is you’re on with Himeko, a classic coffee shop date. It makes warmth flutter in your chest like butterflies on fire. And she’s not doing it out of desire to wring you for information. Perhaps she feels some moral obligation to not let you get lost, but it seems that she likes you, genuinely, as a person. That brings a soft smile to your face that you cover with a sip of your sweet coffee.
Before you find yourself lost once more in the gold of Himeko’s eyes once again a flash of orange hair and brilliant fire catches your attention from your peripheral vision.
There’s a familiar looking street performer showing off dangerous fire swallowing tricks with a crowd surrounding her. With a start you realize it’s an unreleased character, one you had not accounted for being here.
Gui… something.
Himeko follows your gaze when you jolt, “I’m sure those tricks are safe, she looks well practiced.” Her cool hand covers yours, her gold rings clinking against the table.
You shake your head, “she’s part of the game.”
“Hm? I thought we rounded up everyone on this nation already?”
“I thought so too. She’s unreleased, but I’ve seen her trailer and some leaks. Gui, ah I can’t recall her name, but we should probably catch her attention when we can.”
Gui is amazing at keeping the crowd around her engaged. She’s a natural performer.
There’s a round of cheers as she leans back comically, covering her mouth like she’s going to cough before leaning upwards and blowing out a sharp stream of flame from her mouth.
“She’s really good,” you murmur to yourself, transfixed by her crowdwork.
“Indeed,” Himeko nods.
Guinaifen, you remember her name just as she takes a large, performative bow. The citizens around her disperse and you whisper her name under your breath. As if she could hear you, her amber eyes meet yours from across the pavilion. Her head tilts, her side ponytail leaning more crooked than it was.
“We should talk to her,” you say, but shyness is a hard beast to battle and you drop your stare.
Himeko lets out an amused huff as she stands and crosses to talk to the girl.
A few moments later the two fiery haired women return to your table. Guinaufen drags a chair from an empty nearby table and sits next to you.
“Ms Himeko here says you need to talk to me about something? I saw you watching my performance, so if you’re asking for trade secrets, I have to let you down now. A magician never reveals her secrets~.” There’s a sheen of sweat across her forehead and her baby hairs make a halo around her face. Your mouth dries up when you look at her.
“Oh, it’s nothing like that,” you say with a hoarse chuckle. You lift your refreshing drink up to wet your palate. “Actually, it’s a bit on the serious side. I would have invited you to the meeting earlier, but I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“Hm? What meeting?”
“You have to take my word for it but I am not lying. Make an audience with the general if you want. He will back up my claims.” You ignore her question, instead focusing on carefully delivering your words. “This is a game. I played this world as a video game, but somehow I wound up here and I’m letting you know because you are an important side character. I did not know to search for you, because you aren’t a part of the story yet. If a time comes where I need your assistance to get me back to where I belong or something like that, I wanted you to be informed of this.”
“HUH?”
After thorough explanation with Himeko’s assistance, you bid Guinaifen farewell.
The artificial lighting of the Alliance ships dims as time passes, simulating a sunset as a natural planet would have. When the sky turns orange and pink, the same soft pink as a certain March 7th’s hair, you and Himeko decide to make your way back to where the Astral Express docked.
To your surprise, when you step into the passenger cart the breasts of Jing Yuan greet you. You blink, then look up to meet the man’s eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Jing Yuan chuckles to help alleviate your embarrassment.
“It’s quite alright, I must be going now, I hope to see you again, and soon,” he finishes by saying your name, the deep rumble of his voice bringing more warmth to your face.
“You too, me too. Uh, bye Jing Yuan, I hope to see you soon.” You’re going to die, that was so embarrassing, what the fuck, you’re so so silly. Himeko hides a smile, wrapping her arm around your shoulders to escort you back down the sleeping cart and to the safety of her room where you can recover from your flush.
taglist. @leafanonsforest
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hiatuswhore · 18 days
Text
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝓎 𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝒱 — 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒹𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓉𝑜𝓃
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♕ A/N: Yeah so this hiatus has been so criminal. Honestly my “writers block” has just been insecurity. I’ve gotten into this bad habit of comparing my writing styles to others and that is such a viscous and toxic self attack. Long story short, I’m a little dummy who needs to remember why I got into fanfic writing in the first place, to have fun. If you feel like it. Please please please send feedback. There’s one final part left. Maybe some bonus chapters with the new season.
♕ SUMMARY: Oh, the most scandalous season of the year has come to pass. After quite the successful year for the Bridgerton’s the eldest son plans to throw his hat in the ring. Concurrently the Sharma sisters do just the same. One a spinster, the other hopeful romantic, and the middle daughter? What can be said about such a force that is not said when she enters the room. Good luck to all who pursue her.
♕ WORD COUNT: 4.7K
♕ WARNINGS: None
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BLINK. SMILE. NOD. You remind yourself every few seconds. Edwina leads the conversation with a jubilant smile.
Meanwhile, you tally each time Kate’s gaze meets your own as she watches you walk a tightrope, waiting for an inevitable fall. You sit out of place, Kate on your right and your mother on your left. Both rubbing the mustard yellow onto Edwina’s arms, your nose scrunching at the pungent wafts of Haldi. Each time Edwina’s gaze meets your own, you smile. You tilt your head, doing what you do best, offering your unwavering support—no matter how much your chest knots.
“Didi, are you okay? You are so quiet,” Edwina says, leaning forward to capture your gaze. You smile, lying through your teeth, “You are to be wed soon. I shall miss you, is all Bon.”
“You must calm yourself, Bon. Keep still,” Kate smiles down at a jittery Edwina. Her joy practically spills out, her every move indicating pure excitement.
”It is all so strange. I have faced a thousand tomorrows, but they all have been leading to this one,” You pause. Tomorrow. Every laugh, jest, slight—all of it leading to tomorrow. The day you make a fool of yourself—the mark of your first-ever regret. Though your mother speaks, the words do not reach you. The sinking in your chest renders you silent, almost queasy.
”Oh, it has...caused you doubts?” Kate’s cautious tone has your ears perking up, and your absent gaze finds Edwina. Your mother nudges you with a gentle smile, a reminder of her presence.
”Bringing the wedding forward is a sign of genuine feeling, but...well,” Edwina pauses, a sigh leaving her lips as she finds her words. Your heart was banging against your ribcage as Edwina glanced at you. “It has unnerved me. Didi, perhaps you should truly consider Lord Beauregard’s proposal. He’s a wonderful companion to you, and he seems to care. That way, we can navigate all this together.”
”I don’t know, Bon. It’s a lot to consider,” You tilt your head, a tight-lipped smile across your lips, "but right now is not about me or Lord Beauregard. It’s about you and the Viscount.”
“Your sister is right. Rest assured, Edwina, the Viscount adores you. He has devotedly courted you and made his intentions clear from our first arrival. Even going out of his way to procure (Y/n)’s and Kate’s approval. There is no lady better suited for the Viscount,” Your mother’s adoration beams on her prized child, your expression faltering nearly imperceptibly.
“I just—I still wish that when he looks at me, I could be certain that he truly loves me. Like—like—“ Edwina looks around as though the words sit in the room with all of you. Then her gaze finds yours again, “Like how Lord Beauregard looks at (Y/n). His fondness for
her is so evident, written right on his face. I fear, in fact, that the Viscount does not look at me often enough to even tell.”
Your mother and Kate glance at each other with a collective sigh. You lower your gaze, fiddling with the top lace of your peach gown and swallowing the sizzling golf ball in your throat. Kate speaks softly, this time avoiding your direction entirely, “Looks can be powerful, Bon, but also fleeting. Displays of mere passion, perhaps. Nothing more.”
”So the Viscount feels little passion for me?” Edwina exclaims, amusement dancing in her gaze as your mother chuckles. You force a chuckle from your lips, quiet and timid, the antithesis of your very being.
Clearing your throat, forcing a smile to the surface, you grin, “What Kate is failing at saying is that true love is different. It’s complicated and unpredictable. That’s the fun of it. It’s there when you least expect it. You worry now, but fear not, Bon, when it clicks, it clicks.”
“Since when have you become so knowledgeable about love, Miss, avoiding marriage and love?” Your mother teases. Each of your giggles fills the room, and for a moment, only a moment, the dread no longer exists. For a moment you are back in India, in your childhood home.
You cringe at the sudden intrusion, turmeric overwhelming your nostrils as Edwina’s hand gently swipes the mixture across your cheek. Her saccharine giggle contrasted with your wide-eyed stare. She speaks with a whimsical glint in her eyes. One like your own but doe-eyed and hopeful, not calculated and mischievous. “It is said, when spread on an unmarried person, Haldi will help them find a worthy partner that brings the complicated and unpredictable excitement too.”
”Well, Haldi can mind their business,” You tilt your head with a sarcastic smile, earning your mother's pointed stare. Kate chuckles and shakes her. Edwina turns to Kate, who offers a warning stare.
“Now, now. You shall receive it too,” Edwina says, stroking the Haldi across Kate’s cheeks. You fail to ignore the Haldi on your cheeks. It sits like a reminder that tomorrow will come whether you are prepared or not. You shall watch him marry Edwina. Your sister, nieces, and nephews shall be his—but never you.
“Hey!” You exclaim, once again pulled from your thoughts as your mother spreads Haldi across your chest. Reaching into the mixture only takes seconds before the four of you make a mess of it. The giggles are seemingly endless.
Despite the joyous moment, it’s fleeting as the hours seem to fly. Before you know it, you stand in a lavender gown that matches Kate's. You maintain an expression void of emotion, seemingly zoning out—the subtle indicators, near imperceptible. Light sweat coated your brow, and deep sighs left you as though the air was limited. You thank every and any god above for the smokescreen that keeps your beloved family from noticing. Sitting by the window as servants help Edwina prepare, you watch as Kate retrieves the gold bracelet with emeralds dancing across the band.
Edwina stands in front of the full-length mirror. Her eyebrows pinch at the sight she catches in the reflection. Her smile was curious and of awe, “Didi? What are those?”
”I brought them with us from home. I knew this season would be a success,” Kate smiles down at Edwina as she closely inspects them with a warm gaze. You keep your gaze outside the window, willing yourself to ignore every ailment that plagues you. Far too busy pondering potential ways to avoid attending Edwina’s pending nuptials.
Edwina’s head tilts as she searches for familiarity, “they are quite beautiful. How have I never seen them before?”
“They belonged to my mother. Amma wore them on her wedding day and saved them,” Edwina asks if they were saved for Kate. Kate chuckles lightly, “I brought them for you. I insist, beautiful bangles for a beautiful bride.”
”Will you wear them with me?” Edwina asks, but Kate shakes her head, assuring Edwina she will be no bride any time soon. Edwina’s gaze shifts to you, “Well then, Didi, you may very well be a bride soon. Could you wear one with me?”
“Bon—“ You sigh, your gaze meets Kate. The pity in your eyes only furthers the stir in your chest.
“I’m so nervous, but you are the bravest person I know. I don’t know, it may be silly, but wearing this, I shall have a piece of Kate with me up at the altar and knowing you’re wearing it too,” Edwina pauses, her gaze pleading as she holds the bracelet out to you, “It’ll be like we’re in this together. Maybe I can channel some of your courage.”
At the touch of your fingertips, the metal chills against your skin as it soon shackles you to your living nightmare. As Edwina returns to getting ready, you visibly falter for the first time. While your sweet little sister fails to see it, Kate’s quickly at your side. She excuses the both of you slyly, your hands trembling in hers as you both exit the room.
“Bon—“ Kate says, but you offer her a sharp, “don’t.”
You walk with haste to the nearest glass, throwing down a quick shot, ignoring Kate’s advisory against alcohol. Your eyes are misty as your defenses crumble around you. Taking a deep breath, you quickly steel yourself, marching back into the room, rendering Kate unable to console you.
It all passes in a blur as you stare absently out of the window once more. The arriving guests. The bracelets. The wedding gown. Your mother's gushing of Edwina’s beauty in her gown only fuels the fire that slowly burns from the inside out.
“Didi,” you gaze from the window onto your approaching sister. She smiles warmly, taking both your hands. Your heart caught in your throat when she said, “You love him.”
“Wha—I—uh?” You stammer, eyes widening as you try to wrap your brain around her easygoing persona.
“You should not be afraid to tell Lord Beauregard how you feel. You have been nothing like yourself, and I’ve forgotten you have not seen Lord Beauregard in some time now, and you shall see him today. Just tell him,” Edwina says, smiling sweetly. The panic fades into a tremendous relief as your shoulders fall.
“Today is your day. Don’t worry about me, Bon,” You smile, gently squeezing her hands.
“Oh, my beautiful girls,” Your mother says, her gaze moving between you. Her gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, her eyebrow pinching, but the door opening steals her attention away. Concurrently, your body tenses.
“Come. Let us put all the nasty gossip behind us for once and for all,” Your mother stands, taking one of your hands and Edwina’s. Kate joins, taking your own and Edwina’s free hands. She offers you a comforting squeeze. “Let us give the ton a wedding to remember and show them who we truly are.”
Outside the curtains, you stand at Kate's side as if a prisoner were standing before the guillotine. Your corset seemingly constricting as your mind fails to move your legs. You grip Kate’s hand tighter, your ears ringing so loudly you can hardly hear your whisper to her, “I fear I cannot do this, Didi.”
”You are the strongest person I know, Bon. You can. I’m with you all the way. For better or worse,” she whispers. Looking up at her, you blink back tears, and a nervous chuckle leaves you with a final quick whisper: “It sounds as if we are to be wed.”
Kate lets out a soft as she gently pulls you along with her. Servants pull the sheer curtains away as you both pass through. Your gaze finds William in seconds, sitting with Aunt the Queen. His gaze was cold and focused on the groom. You never meet the groom's gaze despite it searing a hole into your head.
You curtsy to the Queen, and William’s gaze remains behind you. As you take your place behind Kate, your gaze meets the grooms for only a second—your breath hitch as you approach the entrance, awaiting the inevitable. A smile takes your face at the sight of your mother and Edwina. Despite everything, your dear little sister always amazes you with her beautiful presence.
Archbishop begins the ceremony, but his words do not reach you. The ringing of your ears grows louder, your right hand soon fiddling at your side. Your smile falters into an absent stare as the bangle on your wrist becomes more noticeable than the gown that covers much of your skin. You let out a shaky exhale, your left hand crushing the stems of your bouquet.
Squaring your shoulders, you take a deep breath and stare forward. A weak smile on your lips as Benedict shoots you a wink—the calm brief as your gaze meets the groom. You refocus on Benedict, but it’s mere seconds, and you both return. The bobbing of his Adams apple, light sweat above his brow, his gaze unfocused, hazy—perhaps you imagine it. You are in Edwina’s place, standing before Anthony, not with a joyous smile but a smug one. A reminder that each day would be a challenge, one you’d both happily accept—a future.
“My lord,” The Archbishop shatters the fantasy with a firmness, tearing your gaze from him; you focus on Kate’s shoulder.
A brief reprieve as the wedding crashes violently with the present reality. Your left hand grips the bouquet stems so tightly it rips beneath the force of your palm as your right hand trembles at your side, the bengal sliding menacingly around your wrist. You tense as your racing heart becomes your only focus, clashing with the loud ringing in your ears.
Anthony looks around the room, and again, his gaze finds you. Edwina’s eyebrows pinch as she follows his gaze. You do not look up from Kate’s shoulder, confident that one wrong move shall bring your end. Even as Edwina turns back, prompting Anthony, his gaze flicks to your unwavering stare on Kate’s shoulder. Your trembling hand matches the pace of your raging heart as you force your tears to remain in your lids.
“I, Lord Anthony Bridgerton,” Archbishop recites, his words ringing loudly in your ears as they hit you head-on. The bengal slips from your wrist, releasing you from its confines. Your eyes close with a sigh of relief as everything quiets. Anthony stands before you when your eyes open, holding the bengal out to you. You glance at Kate, her gaze panicked as she looks between Anthony and yourself.
Lifting your hand, you falter for a second; the moment has lasted far longer than it should. Your gaze locks with his own as you reach out cautiously. His thumb brushes against your own faintly at the touch of the metal. Muttering a thank you and apology, you return to your spot with your gaze low and lips pursed, holding the bengal not placing it back on.
“I need a moment!” Edwina shouts, her voice echoing through the silence. Your eyes widen, and she’s rushing down the aisle from the altar before you can even process. A sea of indiscernible chatter fills the room as you watch your mother rush after Edwina. It all soon returns, the ringing in your ears and your chest constricting. William rises from his seat, his gaze gentle as he stares at you. You look everywhere but at Anthony. Kate grabs your hand, pulling you back down the aisle out of the ceremony.
”—we will call for tea, and once you have something in your stomach, you will be strong enough to go back out there. The Viscount—“ You stand in the doorway, Kate standing a few paces in front of you, your mother a few in front of her. Edwina paces the room, taking deep, haggard breaths. Your mother fumbles to recover the moment, “The Viscount will understand, yes Kate? (Y/n), dear, perhaps you might find that tea—“
“It is not tea that I want; it is the truth!” You freeze in place as Edwina looks at you in a way you have never seen her look at anyone. Though words enter your mind, they do not leave your parted lips. Your mother voices her confusion as you stand as a deer in headlights, teary-eyed and guilty. Edwina continues mercilessly, “Still uncharacteristically quiet, sister, how telling of your deceitful nature!”
“I don’t understand what is happening,” Your mother's gaze bounces between you. Kate sidesteps in a failed attempt to hide you from Edwina’s view, your presence only furthering her rage.
“I shall tell you what is going on, Mama. Your daughter does not love chaos, as she claims. She loves destruction! Decimation at the tips of her fingers, slowly poisoning all she touches!” You blink through your tears, unable to find the words or even begin an explanation.
“Edwina—“ Kate interjects and appears to be the only intervention that deters from her verbal assault.
“Oh, you cannot deny it now, Kate! You enable her! You always have. The two of you are constantly deceiving me. Together in your deception! You knew! Didn’t you? You knew of her feelings for him, ” Edwina narrows her eyes at Kate, the implication of her words giving your Mother much-needed clarity. Meeting your mother's gaze, your head tilts, all but pleading for comfort without words.
“Alright, that is enough. No good can come from this at present. Let us all take a moment to calm ourselves, shall we,” Your mother says, moving to Edwina’s side. She sits Edwina down, dissolving into a bundle of tears. You try to voice an apology, but your Mother turns to you, speaking sternly, “I said that is enough. You have done enough today.”
”Mama, please. I didn’t want this, please. I’m sorry,” You cry, panting softly as your words spill out. The ringing in your ears returns and grows louder steadily with each passing second. Kate interjects only to receive the same sternness, “And you. You have kept so very much from me.”
”Mama, please,” You cry; reaching out for her, she pulls away and points to the door.
“Anywhere else right now, (Y/n),” She says. Rushing out of the doors, everything splinters into a heap of colors and sounds. You pant as though you have run miles rather than mere steps. When you rush into the first set of doors you find, you rush past several faces you cannot make out. Your breathing choppy and staggered, your hand trembling without pause as you pace vehemently.
“(Y/n),” You cringe at the sound of your name, shaking your head as sobs rattle you to your core. He takes your hands, guiding you to the floor. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“It’s not William. I’ve ruined everything; I’m a terrible sister—a terrible person,” You cry, shaking your head; he places a hand on your cheek, stilling you as he wipes a tear.
“You’re far from a terrible person. Stubborn, sure, but not terrible,” He chuckles, tilting his head down to meet your gaze.
“You don’t understand—“ Panting endlessly, William keeps his gaze locked on you and takes a deep breath in and out. He continues to do so until you follow, and even then, he continues for a few moments.
”I’ve made my intentions with you—my uh, my feelings very clear. And when I realized your impact on Anthony and me, I was angry and jealous. He’s so at ease with you even when you’re annoying him, and you seem to forget anyone else is around when the two of you interact,” William says with a slight smile. Your face falls at his words.
“William, I am so sorry—“ Your voice wavers and William chuckles, shaking his head before you can continue. He nudges your side with a grin.
“No apology needed. I only wish for you to be happy (Y/n) just as I wish for Anthony, and with time, your sister will share this sentiment. Of that, I am sure. I must warn you, though, things will grow far worse before they grow better,” William says, resting your head on his shoulder; he kisses the top of your head. You close your eyes, refocusing on deep breaths.
After a few minutes you clear your throat, “I should go, the last thing I need is another scandal.”
“You’re nothing but trouble, Miss Sharma,” William grins, shaking his head. A giggle leaves you as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing his tight.
”Thank you for this,” You mutter, squeezing a little tighter as he kisses the crown of your head once more. As you head back to the room, you pause as Kate sits outside with her head in her hands. She looks up at the sound of your approaching steps, quickly rising at your sight. Neither of you says a word before silently agreeing you both must face this head-on, accomplices. You knock gently upon the door, and Edwina’s face manages to sink even further at the sight of you.
“What?” She asks coldly; before you can get a word in, Kate inquires about your mother, but Edwina cuts her off, “You seem to know all. How could I possibly offer any insight of my own?”
”Edwina, please. Your anger is with me, not Kate,” You say, earning a huff in response.
“Mother is off, getting some air,” Edwina opens the door wider before moving from it entirely. You take a cautious step inside, still lingering by the door as Kate closes it behind the two of you.
“Edwina, I never wanted to hurt you. By the time I realized, it felt far too late to say something. So, I thought that I would swallow it down to avoid this because I wanted you to
be happy. I know you wanted this badly, but I didn’t realize how deep this ran. But it does not matter; I am unfit to be Viscountess, but you, you’re perfect for it,” Your voice wavers as her teary gaze meets your own. Edwina scoffs, shaking her head.
“He said the same thing. I half expected to discover that the two of you prepared it ahead of time. Perhaps it speaks to your compatibility or your deceitful nature,” Edwina shakes her head at you, her gaze cold as ice.
“Edwina, (Y/n) has always supported. You and I both know she is not deceitful. Misguided, certainly. Stubborn almost all the time. But she’s our sister,” Kate says, eyebrows pinching as her head tilts. Edwina’s gaze bounces between the two of you. Her eyes land on Kate.
“I do not know which pains me more. Both your betrayals or your pity,” Edwina says, her head held high with a conviction you never knew her to be capable of.
“Edwina, we are sisters—“ Kate takes a step toward her, reaching out for her hands but halts at Edwina’s next words, “Half-sister, with the misfortune of having (Y/n) as a sister. I want you both to recognize that I am a grown woman and for the first time in my life, I can make a decision based on what I would like.”
Edwina glances over at you, her at ease presence furthered unraveling your nerves, “I have already imagined the life I would lead with Lord Bridgerton as Viscountess at Aubrey Hall. It lives in my mind and is mine to do with as I like. So, if I choose to marry Anthony, it will be because it pleases me and no one else. I need you both to understand that. If I go through with this wedding, it will have nothing to do with either of you.”
You swallow thickly every version of reality where you have no place in her life evident. Kate's reassurances fall victim to the high pitch. Like nails to a chalkboard in your ears. Your personalized torture.
Kate remains at your side, the silence jarring. Uncertain of an appropriate reaction, you find yourself in a hazy void. You refuse the tears pushing at the edge of your lids, no words in reach to synthesize the depths of the pit in your chest. Time fuses into a distorted blend of unrelenting dread. The footman delivers the summons, the neat handwriting familiar.
Kate hesitates as you ask her to join you. Would it fuel the fire? Further the divide? Perhaps. Even still, you both cross the silks and satins of the entryway—the wedding hall. It's still as breathtaking as you all left it.
”You sent word for me?” Your eyebrows pinch as Anthony's words linger in the air. Kate answers as your lips merely part, and no words leave you. You glance at Kate, who mirrors your visible confusion. Approaching footsteps carrying the answers to each lingering question.
Edwina enters like the calm before a storm. Her hands clasped in front of her, her gait determined, and her mindset. She passes Kate without sparing her a glance, Edwina’s gaze bouncing between you and Anthony, “I have made my decision. I thought it best that you both hear it from me.”
“Edwina, perhaps we should speak privately,” Kate suggests, earning a mirthless chuckle.
“No, and quite frankly, I am giving our sister a courtesy I was not granted,” Edwina keeps her head high, her presence delicate yet commanding. She turns to Anthony, who has not looked away from you. A rare sight of pure vulnerability in your eyes as you look at Edwina. Silently pleading for forgiveness. A soft sigh leaves Edwina as she keeps her eyes on Anthony, not continuing until she has his full attention, “I cannot marry you, Lord Bridgerton. You cannot provide me with what it is I want. What it is that I deserve. What everyone deserves. I may not know exactly what true love feels like, but I certainly know what it is not. It is not deception or, wandering eyes, or a role to be fulfilled. I cannot marry you because I cannot betray myself. You will never meet my eyes in the same manner that you met my sisters on that altar today. You will never...”
Edwina falters, a sigh escaping her as she briefly glances toward you and back to Anthony, “You will never look at me the same way. I would be your Viscountess, your wife, the mother of your children, but I would never be yours because you’ll be hers.”
Your eyes find Anthony as her words seep into your bones. Edwina addresses you and Kate with words of contempt and eyes of sorrow. Her retreating form leaves a heavy silence as Kate rushes after her. Neither of you move, Anthony at the altar and yourself a few paces down the aisle.
“I thought I taught Edwina nothing, but I fear she too shares the ability to scorch the earth in a fit of rage,” You chuckle, the tight-lipped smile dissolving into a huff, “I have ruined everything.”
”You speak as though you did it alone,” Anthony says, meeting your gaze in the same spot where he was meant to recite his vows.
“I should go,” You whisper, watching as he glances off, seemingly pondering something. Clearing your throat, you square your shoulders, “Lord Bridgerton.”
”You should stay,” He says, an odd ease to his demeanor. You can only wonder if he feels the turmoil that rages within you. He tilts his head, “Your sister is braver and wiser than us both. She had the courage to act on what she sensed between us. And here we are, you ready to flee and myself standing perfectly still. We’ve felt it for months.”
You inhale sharply, and the reality is apparent: you cannot escape this. Speaking hardly above a whisper, you fidget with the skirts of your dress, “I’ve lit more than enough fires today. If I were wise, I would go.”
”Then, only for a moment, my pyromaniac, play the fool with me. Humor me in this inevitability, a fate that cannot be. Explore the untenable depths of our desires for this moment only before we face the reality waiting for us out there,” Anthony holds out his hand to you. His smile does not reach his eyes as you stare at his hand before you.
A sigh leaves you as you chew on your bottom lip. You cross your arms, raising your head high, “If I am to play the fool, you will have to address me by my proper honorific, of course.”
”And what’s that?” Anthony’s eyebrows pinch as you turn your head.
“Viscount Bridgerton, of course,” You smirk as the realization slowly dawns upon him. A hearty laugh leaves his lips as you accept his hand with a gentle grin.
“The sky could be falling in, and you would find a way to jest,” Anthony smiles as he shakes his head. You nod, chuckling beneath his gaze, far closer than you were a few seconds prior. Neither of you, aware of when or how you got so close. The warmth brings a merriment that blurs the line between what can and cannot be.
The violins.
The flowers.
The gossip eager Ton.
The bride and groom at an altar without wedding bells. ”I fear I have destroyed my relationship with my sister.”
“And I, with my best friend.”
You give his hands a gentle squeeze on your own, gasping as he pulls you forward. The touch of your lips light at the climax of your shared fantasy. As you both pull apart, the warmth chills. You are not husband and wife; you are a scandal.
A smudge on both of your reputations.
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archangeldyke-all · 1 month
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This is so dumb but, Sevika helping reader with her confidence when asking for sex? Idk, I need a nap
CUTE
men and minors dni
for the first few months of your relationship, sevika's the one initiating sex a majority of the time.
she doesn't mind. you usually respond eagerly, and half the time, she acts because she can tell you want to, but you're too shy.
it's in the way your gaze lingers on her lips as she speaks. the way you find any excuse to touch her. the way you bite your lip while letting your eyes trail down her body.
but, after you guys are together long enough for the jitters and nerves to wear off, sevika decides she wants to hear you ask for it.
so, one night over dinner, sevika asks you about it.
"y'know you never initiated sex before?" she asks.
you choke on your food. sevika bursts into giggles, pounds your back as you sputter, and waits for you to collect yourself.
"sev, what the fuck?!" you ask. she just chuckles and shrugs.
"i'm always makin' the first move." she says.
"well... yeah." you mutter, suddenly recounting your past times. "but... most the time i'm, like... starin' at you until you do?" you try. she bursts into laughter.
"so that's on purpose!?" she asks. you shrug.
"'s just kinda a side effect of me gettin' horny. i just zone out an' focus on you." you explain. sevika grins, then darts forward to kiss you.
"that's romantic." she sighs. you smile, and she tilts her head at you. "you could always use your words, too, y'know." she whispers. you groan.
"i know! it's just-- what am i supposed to say?" you cringe. she giggles, then kisses you again.
"whatever you're thinkin'. i doubt i'll say no to you." she whispers against your lips. you gulp, and she pulls away before you can pounce on her, smirking at you as she pours you another glass of wine.
so... you try your best. it's sevika after all, you'd crawl to the ends of the earth for her. how hard could asking for sex be?
incredibly hard, apparently.
the first time you try is the next night. the two of you'd gone dinner and a movie, and now, you're sitting on sevika's couch, chatting and cuddling.
"--so then i told silco that i'm not his fuckin' babysitter, 'n no matter how cute the kid is when she's got the little ponytails in, nothin' they do is gonna convince me to spend the night watchin' her--"
"i want to have sex with you right now, please." you interrupt. the second you do, you cringe, and sevika bursts into laughter.
"the please was a nice touch." she giggles. you huff.
"i dunno! i'm trying!"
"right in the middle of my story?"
"sevika, i'm tryin--" she cuts you off with a kiss.
so it's not a total failure, but it's not the smoothest you could've been.
you try again after dinner the next night, cuddled in bed, teeth freshly brushed and wrapped in warm jammies. sevika's spooning you-- you won rock paper scissors for little spoon tonight-- gently scratching your scalp as you trade anecdotes.
"anyways, tomorrow for dinner i was thinking--" sevika adjusts as you talk, ever so slightly, just a gentle shift of her hips against your ass. it's enough to make your brain short circuit. "sex?"
sevika bursts into laughter and you groan. "now or for dinner?" she teases. you elbow her and she grunts, then bites your ear in retaliation.
you turn around in her arms, hiding your face against her neck. "sevika, you told me to use my words--"
"that was actually only one word, baby." she teases as her hands start sneaking down your pajama bottoms. you bite her lip.
the next time you try, though, you seem to do alright.
sevika's working away at her desk, too distracted by the papers scattered around her to notice you approach her.
she groans when you start massaging her shoulders, her head flopping back in relief as she blinks up at you.
"you wanna take a break?" you suggest. sevika hums.
"did i work through dinner again?" she asks. you giggle, shaking your head no.
"not a food break." you say, pulling her chair out and circling around her before sitting in her lap. you strip your shirt off and throw it behind your shoulder, and when you pull the fabric over your eyes, you're greeted by sevika's grin.
"a sex break?" she guesses. you nod.
"is that... okay?" you ask.
"that's fucking fantastic." she promises, wrapping her arms around your waist and launching forward for a kiss. you giggle against her lips.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub
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theblueflower05 · 1 year
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The Sweetest Sylaung
A/N: So I def didn’t mean to write a novel long Neteyam smut story but here we are. Debating on making this a mini series. Also the anon that requested a “curvy” reader insert- here ya go!(she’s also an Augustine- buttttt you can only see that if you squint lol)
Word Count: 6k+
Warnings: This is smut. Pure smut. Please don’t read if it is not your jam. You are in charge of cultivating your own online experience, you’ve been warned!
Pairing: Aged Up! Neteyam x Human!Curvy!Reader
Summary: After an “accidental” romp in the forest, you do your best to avoid Neteyam. It’s for everyone’s good, or so you’ve convinced yourself.
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“I’m begging for you to take my hand, wreck my plans. That’s my man”- Willow, Taylor Swift
The kaleidoscope of colors explode under your eyes in endless patterns and shapes as you look over the sample of Pandora flora under the heavy duty microscope. This particular piece of the Moons terra had never been discovered before, only blooming at what you estimated to be every ten or so years, under the right monsoon like conditions
At least that’s what you had discovered so far.
The flower, which sprouted into a berry, and then dissipated into a moss like cluster of microorganisms all within its short life cycle had turned into your passion project. You we’re doing your thesis on it, the last step in getting your Masters.
You’d gone through schooling on a computer screen, guided by the greatest minds on Earth that had relocated to Pandora. Scientists of all fields who you’d grown up around. None of them had been surprised when you’d picked up botany. Xenobotany to be exact.
It was in your blood.
The desk your at shakes violently- disturbing your precision like focus. Breaking you straight out of your zone.
“Ugh” you groan, frustrated, raising your head, eyes narrowing at the culprits.
Spider, Lo’ak and Kiri freeze like deers in the headlights of your fury. Spiders arm raised, a wad of paper balled up in his hand, aimed to shoot. He lowers it slowly as the weight of your your heavy gaze zero’s in.
“Sorry, cu-”
“I told you guys, if you cant behave to get the fuck out” You seethe. Your nerves are paper thin anyway. Too much screen time frying your brain something fierce as you focused in on your studies. “Is that not what I said, verbatim?”
“You need to chill. You’ve been so high strung lately. Come hang out with us” Lo’ak suggests smooth and unhelpful. As usual. “When was the last time you left the lab?”
You roll your eyes and bite your tongue, trying not to say anything to scalding to the surprisingly sensitive Sully brother. “No thanks. I’ve gotta focus”
“Maybe Lo’aks right” Kiri starts, her face screwing up as she speaks “Eywa that sounds wrong. Nevermind, My brother is never right- but you should come hang out with us. Let’s go swimming- the watering hole is over flowing from the storms”
The deep sigh through your nose isn't calming, even though you pretend it is. You know they mean well, in the most annoying way. That you’d been buried in books and paperwork in the lab for the past couple months.
Hiding from the outside world within the thick walls of Hell’s Gate.
“Can’t. This is important, Kir- but why don’t you guys head down there? Its closer to Home Tree and its almost curfew anyway” two birds, one stone. Its a smart suggestion- but Kiri’s face falls, shoulders sagging and ears lowing. That look had always gotten you-
“I cant today, but maybe tomorrow? The samples are too fresh and I don't want to put them on ice…But I think Max made those Yovo cookie things” That’s only half of the truth, but luckily Kiri’s always been understanding.
She grabs your elbow in her long fingers and tugs you along.
The mess hall had seen better days, but the large open space still tends to be the meeting ground for the humans that were allowed to stay and inhabit the moon. With twelve foot tall ceilings and airtight exits and windows that lead out to the Avatar Program training yards. Its a common room of sorts, a place where everyone gathers. For meals, for mismatched Holidays. But mostly for gossip.
I mean, what else is there to do?
Like currently, you’re deeply engrossed in the story that Doctor Martinez’s, Xeno-Zoologist is recounting. All dramatics and dirty intimate details “It’s true, they’re gonna bring it before Mo’at and everything”
He’s talking about Trevino and Eital’i.
Everyone had heard the whispers, seen the not so subtle signs. The main Radio Tower operator had turned during the resistance, had fought beside Jake and had been allowed to stay on Pandora- better stuck on a foreign planet then thrown in a familiar jail cell. Trevino’s a cool guy, really.
A cool guy who had been sleeping with a Na’vi woman, apparently. The two had kept it under wraps, really private. No one could pin down how or when it happened,,,but to go to the clan’s Tsahik seeking a mating blessing? That’s major.
“You’re lying” you accuse in a gasp as the table breaks into whispers, all wide eyes and shaking heads. “They’re going to mate?...How?”
“It’s not like it hasn't happened before” Another scientist chimes in casually. Like it’s a known thing.
Which it kind of is.
Taboo, yes. But not unheard of, more like untalked about.
Humans and the Na’vi of the forest had lived in close quarters since the overthrow of the RDA. Jake, the standing Olo’eyktan, just had a little too much homosapien in him. Yeah, he’d survived the soul transfer and fully inhabited his blue body- but he never quite grew out of his human roots.
It had been hard, lots of politicking and good grace shown on both parts, but somehow, like all biomes in the vast perma green forest, all had learned to live in harmony. Most Omitikaya kept their distance. Very hesitant about the human presence. They had every right to be scared, hostile. Scarred by man and its weapons and its destruction.
Others had been raised in close proximity to Grace’s school. Had become accustomed to the nearly two decade long human presence on Pandora. Curious and accepting.
You’d heard about interspecies hookups.
Locker room talks that left your ears burning and your heart racing. It usually came from members of the Avatar Program- It tends to set a precedent, when the quote on quote “royal family” of the Omiticaya is a Jarhead and a native woman.
Na’vi are gorgeous, tall and lean but humanoid enough to be familiar…you’re not exactly sure what they see in humans but you know damn well what you guys see in them.
“How do you think that works? The…physicality of it all I mean. Trevino doesn't have an Avatar. How do they fuck-”
You’re not the only one zoning out from the conversation and it’s lewd turn.
You watch Kiri watch Spider and your heart aches for her. What they have is secret, delicate and forbidden. As a woman with high standing in the clan, you knew that her feelings for the boy wouldn't go anywhere. Couldn't.
When they we’re kids, it was cute. Now that they 're both technically adults, it was just plain stupid.
You tell her of the fact, often.
Kiri tells you to stop projecting.
———
The Sully Kid’s are always late. It’s like no matter how hard they try, they cant make curfew. You throw on an Exopack, hurrying them to the fence.
“Yeah, yeah okay mom. Take it easy” Lo’ak shrugs huffily as you yank hard on his arm. “I’m going, Y/N!”
“Not fast enough you strumbeast’s ass! You’re gonna get me into trouble, who do you think your dad’s gonna blame when you guys end up back at Home Tree super late again? Norm chewed me out for that shit last time!” You man handle the much taller than you alien.
Kiri and Spider a few leagues in front of you, already at the mouth of the giant fence. They’re awkward, not in their usual synched steps. You wonder how much of that conversation earlier had gone to their heads?
You’re bickering with Lo’ak, an extremely normal occurrence. He can be a real douche. and had been kind of insufferable lately. You think its nerves about his impending Iknamaya.
So engrossed with getting them on their way home that you don't even notice him until it’s too late.
Neteyam is a skilled hunter, through and through. The youngest in the clan to ever make a kill. Swift and quiet. Beloved.
But around you he feels out of his element. Clunky and awkward, no matter how hard he tries to play it off its like you can see right through him. Its scary and thrilling, sets his stomach alive with butterflies everytime. This is no different.
Showing up to Hell’s Gate to retrieve his siblings was something he had done since he was a child.
He’d used to bleed hours away playing with them at the scientists fortress, but as he had gotten older and his responsibilities had grown heavier- he had little time for it. Still, when ever his parents would send him out on a one man search party to bring them home, he’d jump at the chance.
At the hope of seeing you.
You’re arguing with his little brother, trying not to laugh at something he said and Neteyam knows. He knows he shouldn't feel jealous but he just cant help it. Cant help the acidic twist of his insides.
Especially when he chirps out his family's familiar call, letting his presence be known.
And watches that pretty smile fall right off of your face.
“You’re late, as usual” His voice has a stern edge. It’s annoying, the role he has to play. Kiri is a woman grown, Lo’ak just weeks away from being the same. He doesnt blame them for the way their feathers bristle, almost viscerally.
“Ah, big brother you didn't have to come all this way to get us” Kiri reassures, patting Neteyam on the chest good naturedly. “We we’re just about to be on our way”
Neteyam notices the way you try to look anywhere else but him. It stings because he cant stop looking at you, cant pry his eyes away from your form.
“You all should start heading back before dad notices” Neteyam starts. His father had been busy as of late, harvest season abundant and fruitful this year because of the heavy rain season “I’ll catch up, I need to speak with Norm”
“What? Dad cant use the coms now, he has to send his messenger” Lo’ak’s nose scrunches a little, always questioning. On a normal day it wouldn't affect Neteyam so much, just a normal jab from his snot nosed little brother.
Not today. Not when he’s stretched so thin. Not when you refuse to look at him but are staring at the side of Lo’ak fat head. It feels wrong, makes his skin heat up to the point that it feels itchy and tight.
“That's none of your concern. Head back to Home Tree. Now” He doesn't normally throw his weight around. But he feels the need to puff up big in front of you “Those are orders. Get out of here”
Lo’ak’s less offended and more surprised. One of his oh so human eyebrows cocks, a sly remark in his throat before he scoffs. “Aye, Aye Captain Kiss Ass. C’mon Kiri let's go. See you later Spider, Y/N”
He deuces up Spider, gives Y/N a pat on her small shoulder and glares harshly at his brother before he disappears into the thick brush of the jungle.
Kiri wraps her arms around you in a strong hug, muttering about ‘swimming’ and ‘promises’. The small impish smile she shoots Spider gives YOU butterflies so you don't blame the way he swoons, before she’s off behind her younger brother.
“I can go find Norm for you, bro. I think he’s still out in his Avv, but Max can radio him back in” Spider is none the wiser. Doesn't notice the heavy tension that simmers on a low bubble. Oblivious, as usual.
“Yeah, sure” Neteyam replies, barely sparing the human boy a glance. He’d feel bad for it later, when he could form coherent thought. When his brain wasn't on Y/N issued override.
Spider chatters, good natured. He never got to see the Olo’eyktan in training anymore. He missed his homie.
“Well, I should be heading back. You guys have a good rest of your night-” You’re already turning on your heels when you make the announcement, eager to get back inside. Back behind the safe walls of the lab- far away from Neteyam.
“No”
Neteyam who stares at you with all too knowing eyes. He looks straight through you like he can see through your clothes, through your thinly veiled escapism attempts. He reaches out, wraps his long fingers around the top of your arm and tugs you back to him. Gentle, but very firm.
He doesn't have to say it- it’s written all over his face. Not this time. He’s not going to let you run away from him.
“Netey-” You start in a whine, tugging on his hold. He doesnt relent, if anything his fingers tighten as his eyes narrow. Dangerous, desperate.
“Just talk to me” it’s a barely concealed plea, his tail twitches anxiously behind him “I'm just asking for five minutes. Please Y/N”
Spiders oblivious, yes. Stupid? No. He doesnt know exactly what's going on between the two of you but has clued into the fact that it’s heavy and he wants no part of it.
The excuse he makes is shit- he’ll just go find Norm. Yeah… he’s so out of there.
“What is wrong with you?” You hiss as you watch Spiders awkward, quick retreating form. Eyes flickering over the empty for now training yards “So much for keeping it lowkey, huh? Could you be anymore obvious?”
“What’s wrong with me?” Neteyam is almost shaking with disbelief “What the fuck is wrong with you? You havent talked to me in over a month. Everytime I make any kind of attempt you bolt. I dont-” He sighs, pinching the wide bridge of his nose with the hand that isnt holding onto you.
He looks tortured. Tired. Run a little ragged.
Beautiful.
“I don't know what I did? If this is about that day in the forest-”
You sigh at his words, once again pulling on his hold. Shaking your head desperately because you can't.
You can't talk about it. Fuck, you’ve been trying not to even think about it.
And failing as you replay the event over and over again the darkness of your bunk. Hyper fixating on the way that his lips had felt against yours. Oh the way that his big hands had worked your body over
“Don’t” you whisper “Please don’t”
You’d never been one to beg for pity, for mercy but that’s what you do now. Beg him to let you out of his tight clutches. Metaphorically and physically.
“You’re all I can think about” It's a gutted admittance, but Neteyam makes it all the same “That night- I can’t sleep. I can barely eat- I’m falling behind on my duties because I keep coming back here. Standing outside this fence and waiting for you. I know you could hear me over the coms, right?”
And you could, a few weeks or so ago.
When he’d begged you to come out. To come speak to him. His voice so appealing that you’d almost caved. You’d had to turn off your receiver. Had sat with your head in your hands for hours as you fought the urge to crawl to him, knees raw and your bloody heart on a platter only he could divulge in.
He shuffles closer, all lean strong muscle. Firm, unmovable. “You heard me”
“Of course I did”
“And you still left me out here” He scoffs, head shaking slightly as his adams apple bobs, his ears are pinned to the sides of his head in obvious distress “I could never do that shit to you.”
“One of us needs to be the adult in this situation” Your voice is as strong as you can make it. Trying to speak reason on to both of you “We can pretend it never happened and go back to the way that things were before. You’re my friend, Tey”
You reach up, stroking at his wrist. Trying to soften him enough for him to let this go. Let you go.
He’s trying to control his breathing, all that training for all of those years for what? One fragile human girl to make him completely unspool? To lose any and all composure he’d worked so hard to gain.
He was always the adult, in all situations. Had been born with a neck cramping crown on his head. Shrouded in pressurized glory.
“If this is me being childish, so be it. Where has pretending gotten you, huh? Look at you, yawntutsyìp. you look so tired. When was the last time you slept? Kiri says you spend days in the lab without resting”
His hands, both of them, come up to cup your face. Huge and calloused. Yet he holds you like you're something precious. A small animal, a rare gem. His whole entire world since he was just a boy.
Neteyam thumbs at the cool glass of your mask, tenderly. The bags under your eyes are sunken and bruised. “Don’t shut me out”
Your body, in its entirety, clenches at his words. Velvet and sincere. He’s a fucking dream. Your head leans into his hands, neck sagging of its own accord as any and all words of protest leave your weak mind.
He makes you so easy.
“Let me in…I dont want there to be this distance between us anymore” He hisses around the word distance. Hating even having to say it “I want to be inside of you again”
Your plump lower lip gets skewered between your teeth, eyes screwed shut as you remember the last time. Your first ever time being full…you’d dreamt of it every night since it had happened.
If it wasn't for the blasted mask and your need for Earth’s oxygen he’d kiss you. Right here right now. He didn't really give a shit who saw or what they had to say.
Instead pulls you into his chest, lets you wind your arms around his lean middle and bury your chest in his diaphragm. Its as close as he can get you, for now. Makes you cling to him the way that he’d clung to every thought of you for the last weeks.
You wish it was lungfuls of his skin that you were taking as you try to bring yourself down from this abrupt shaky high. You dont get it, how your relationship couldve flipped this hard in such a short time.
He had always just been Neteyam. A shameless flirt yes- but that’s all it was.
“Would you like that?” He questions, hands working through your hair. Fingers light and soothing on your scalp. Massaging the thoughts right out of your head.
“Hmm?”
“If I was inside you again?” He presses on. You can feel the tickle of his long, thin, tail as it wraps around the back of your calf and you groan, digging your nails into his back.
“You’re such an asshole. Stoppppp it” You’re embarrassed and turned on and already feel stupid enough, he doesn't need to rub it in. His chest shakes as he chuckles.
“I’m serious. Tell me you want it-”
“Neteyam! Hey!”
The two of you break apart in an instant. You jump away from him as though struck by lightning. Instantly putting enough distance between you and the Na’vi that maybe, just maybe an onlooker might think that the embrace was friendly.
It’s Norm, having heard that the eldest Sully was looking for him he’d come eagerly.
The smile you plaster on is forced and honestly, Neteyam doesnt fair any better. He’s obviously flustered, just glad that his erection isn't tenting his tweng.
“Spider told me you and your dad are looking for me. I’m not intruding on uh anything, am I?” Norm looks between the two of you.
Your arms are folded tightly over your chest and Neteyam is rubbing at the back of his neck, strong jaw flexing as his teeth grind.
Oh yeah, Norm had definitely interrupted something.
Knows for sure as you scurry away. As Neteyam, always so level headed, has to string together words. Stumbling a little bit as he tries to remember the message that Jake had relayed.
It’s not any of his business, he thinks at the time. He sure didnt want to be the one to shine the light on whatever the hell was going on here. Turning a blind eye to the mysteries of Pandora is the only way to survive the harshest terrain known to man.
———
You dont know that though-
No, you’re spiraling more a little bit as you prepare yourself for bed. Brushing through your thick hair and staring out into space as your mind assaults you with all of the gnarly ‘What If’s’
Norm had seen and he had to know right? Oh god, what if he told Jake?
You balk. Lowering the brush as your eyes bulge out of your head.
What if he told Neytiri?
That's actually a super horrific thought. Like nightmarish. You have a lot of respect for the future Tsahik...
…And a very healthy does of fear. She didnt like humans and made it known. She tolerated them only for her husband's benefit. What if she found out that her eldest son, her golden boy, had fucked one?
You’re freak out is interrupted by static, by the beeping of your com receiver on your night stand.
“Y/N?” its Neteyams muffled voice through the device. You’d ignored it once. You should ignore it again…
“Yeah?” you wonder if he picks up on how shaky you sound through the receiver.
“Tomorrow night meet me at the East Gate. Like when we we’re kids” he’s not really asking. Not demanding either. You could ignore him again, but he has to try.
The line goes silent, quiet for minutes on end.
“Y/N?”
You’re so stupid. “What time?”
You can hear the grin he’s sporting as he replies “0100”
“Got it, over. Good night, Neteyam. Go to sleep”
———
The East Bay is on the other side of the large fortress-like building. It's not that it's forbidden, or anything. but it is deserted. It’s where the military personnel had inhabited, and since most if not all of them had gotten the hard boot off Pandora it was empty as a ghost town in these maze like halls.
When you we’re younger; you’d caught Spider sneaking Kiri and Lo’ak in through the rarely used entrance. You’d demanded the know how, if he didnt want you to rat on him for it. It was a rare occurrence, but the Sully children had all been snuck into Hell’s Gate this way over the years.
You type in the codes, disabling the alarm system in order to usher Neteyam into the pressurized, air lock. You’d toted one of the Avatar Exopacks along for him, they’re heavier then hell but he’d need it.
“Hi” you smile, suddenly shy as the tall Na’vi man stands before you.
That's what he was now. A man, not only in the eyes of his people but as a whole. Broad and muscular, strong. Verile. The next leader of his people. You know that he’s highly desired in his clan. Women fawn over him. Vie for his attention.
It doesnt feel real that he wants to give it to you.
You’re nothing special. Not tall and stunning like the Omaticaya women. Even by Earth’s standards you're short, curvy. Not particularly pretty. Insecurity gnaws at you, as it so often does.
“C’mere” Neteyam urges, boldly yanking you by your waist. Pulling you flush against his body. Grabby and insistent, he wants to feel your bare skin. All plush and soft, hes been dying to taste it since the last time.
Kicking himself over and over for not savoring every bit of your body that you gave to him. He won't make the same mistake again.
He’s not gonna lie, the concrete and metal of the walls inside of Hell’s Gate have always made him a little claustrophobic. But he can't do this outside-
His lips capture yours, demanding and needy from the jump. Big, over powering, he swallows your little chirp of surprise. Devours any and all breath from your lungs. Its messy and so good. You hadn't gotten to kiss him last time.
His mouth tastes amazing, his tongue rough in texture just like you remembered. It grates your lips as you suck on it-
“Hey, slow down a little bit” You giggle as Neteyam paws at your ass, lifting you off the ground until you squirm hard, making him release you “Not here, we can't do this here there’s cameras everywhere”
“I don't care” Neteyam pecks all over your face, trying to recapture your mouth as you avoid him “Let them watch, most of those pervs would like it”
And they would know that you’re his. The thought is beyond heady.
You gasp as his sharp canines ghost over the delicate skin of your neck, nibbling on your pulse point “Please- Neteyam”
You firmly push him away, hand on his chest and maybe if you hadn't cut him off cold turkey he would've given you space. Could've pulled away for a moment to let you say your piece. Instead the idea of letting you pull away even an inch is unbearable to him.
No. instead he tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He hauls loads heavier then you every day, your protests mean little to him. With his free hand he scoops up the Avv Exo Tank,
“Where to, yawntutsyìp?”
Where too is an old conference room. Its as good as any, and Neteyam yanks a couple cushions off the old couch to act as a brace for your head as he lowers you to the floor, flat on your back.
You’re so pretty like this, he tells you of the fact.
With your hair a mess behind you, your face free of that damned mask. Grinning up at him as you rub your thighs together. He wishes he had that camera that his dad liked to take pictures on. He wants this moment of you framed, immortalized.
“I hate sky people clothes” He mutters as he tugs on the hem of your t-shirt. It hides you, hides all that skin he craves.
“You want me to take it off?” You offer eagerly, raising up enough to start peeling the piece of clothing off. You’re bare underneath, completely. Your breasts jiggle as they’re freed, nipples peaked in the cool air-conditioned air.
“Don’t ever put it on again” He demands, taking it from your hands and tossing it across the room. He’s dead serious, but by the way you're giggling you obviously think its a joke.
He can’t help it, he dives in face first. Rubbing against your soft breasts, obsessed with the way they feel. Heavy, pillowy. He drags his tongue across all of your bare skin. From your clavicle to your nipple. You always smell so pretty, but its got nothing on the way you taste. It explodes bright and savory on his tastebuds.
You let him explore, until your spit soaked and shaking. Your panties sticky as your hips search for any kind of friction. “I need you”
“You have me, my love. All of me” your eyes water at his words. At the sincerity. At how much you want them to be true.
You grab one of his hands and drag it down your chest. Past your soft, rounded belly and into your shorts. He grunts as you guide him to where you’re wet and pulsing. Rythmetically clenching around nothing.
He circles your clit, feather light. More of a tease then anything and you want to sob. You’d thought of nothing but this, touched yourself imagining him. “Tey-”
He smiles around a mouthful of nipple,tugging on with his teeth. “I missed you so much”
“Then be nice to me” you plead, trying to shove yourself down on his fingers.
“We’re being nice now? Were you nice to me when you ignored me?” he can't help it, hurt bleeds into his voice. It had been so fucking painful, knowing that you hadnt wanted to see him. To be with him.
“I’m sorry” you whine, grabbing his face, pulling it from your bosom. “I’m so sorry. I was so scared- I’m still scared but I need you”
He lets you cup his cheeks, lets you plant kisses all over him. The bridge of his nose, his eyelids, his cheekbones. You dote on him, gentle and caring and he gorges himself on your love.
“You cant ever do that again, okay?” He shivers as you kiss his ear, running your tongue along the hyper sensitive flesh “If you’re scared you come to me, not run from me. Do you understand?”
You nod, eager. “I promise, Neteyam”
It’s all he needs to hear, that you’re his. That you won't deprive him of your presence ever again. He doesn't know what he’ll do. He’s a little scared of the man he becomes when it comes to you, you’re not the only one frightened by the gravity of your feelings.
“You asked if I wanted you inside me again? Yes. So much. I never knew I could be that full” it’s like you know just what to say. You light him up from the inside. His fingers begin circling your sopping clit again, this time with intent.
It’s blurry, the fact that your lightheaded making it hard to think. To track what he’s doing to you because somehow Neteyam seems to be everywhere at once. His big body all encompassing as he takes you.
“No-no marks, baby” You try to remind him and his blazing eyes zero in on you in a glare “you know we cant…not where they can see”
You’re right, and he hates it. He’ll just have to mark you where only you can see. Where you can look at your self and be reminded that you belong to someone. That you belong to him.
He doesn't have the patience, cant stop his hands from shaking- the tear of your shorts and panties echos around the room as he removes any barriers between him and the heat at the apex of your thighs.
You cant help the thrill it sends down your spine. He’d…ripped your panties off. You thought shit like this only existed in bad Earth made Porn that you’d found on one of the labs computers.
“Sorry, sorry” his apology is far from sincere though and you can't help but giggle, patting his braids fondly.
The fingerfucking is rough, your wines and moans spilling from you as he hits spots inside of you that make you want to curl up. It’s too good. Too much-
You screech, back bowing as he bends to kiss you, loud and sloppy, right on your wet clit. His big head burrows between your thigs as he delves on your cunt, his long rough textured tongue lapping at the fat puffy lips. The texture difference has both of you groaning.
It’s heartbreakingly good, the kind of good that you’ll never be able to forget. That you’ll crave and need for the rest of your life. Addictive, as he dedicates himself to making you feel pleasure.
Neteyam eats pussy the same way he does everything else in his life, exceeding any expectations. His instincts sharp as he hones in on how to make you lose your mind.
He keeps telling you how good you taste, breaking away for heaving breaths before he reburries himself. The only sounds in the room are the beyond wet sloshing of his tongue lashing and the pathetic noises your making.
He’s eating you alive, you don’t know how you’re supposed to survive this.
His fingers, two and then three fuck in and out of you. Corkscrewing as he loosens your tightness up for him.
“O-ooh” you whine high and reedy as you feel your tummy tightening, the pressure building in a way that makes you feel like you cant breathe. You cant your hips, shoving them down at that perfect angle “Oh, sh-shhhhit. I’m gonna, I’m-”
He doubles down and you’re a goner.
The orgasm is devastating. Sofuckinggood you think you might see stars for a minute there. You can't even scream, you keep letting out these little cries that are more like wheezes. A desprate attempt to get some kind of air back in your lungs-
Which reminds you.
Even though you’re in a daze you wiggle away from him, he hisses at you about it but you swat the top of his head as you reach for the Exo Pack.
You shove the mask in his face, between your legs.
”Breathe, Neteyam” you demand him to gulp down the Pandoran air. Yeah, he could go longer in your environment than you in his but still. Death by giving head isn’t the way you’d like him to go out.
He takes long breaths and you try not to be embarrassed by how soaked his chin is.
When he pulls away his eyes are a little more focused “Thank you, sweet girl. Always thinking about me, huh?”
You nod, dropping the mask. Closer this time for easier access. His eyes quickly zero back in on your swollen pussy, on how wet he got you. On how pretty it looks. His mouth is watering all over again-
When you try to close your thighs, the burning of your cheeks getting to be too much he hisses again. It’s not a sound he often makes and it’s a revelation, he’s so sexy. Almost feral.
“Who said I’m done?”
You’re never going to be able to get over this man “I already came?...”
“Yes? So?” he rolls his eyes, lowering his head, nuzzling at the damp juncture of your inner thigh “You’re still so tight, here feel”
His fingers slip back in you and you mewl, baring down as he scissors the long digits.
“We have to get you loose enough to take me, I don’t want to hurt you” He explains it like you need convincing. Like he has to convince you to let him eat you out. You just re-spread your thighs, relaxing back onto the cool floor as you let him do as he pleases.
It takes two more orgasms that you scream and shake through until he deems that you’re ready. By the time that he begins to slide his cock into you you’re a blubbering, oversensitive mess. You’re crying rivers of tears as you cling to him.
“Hold my hand? Please ” You request and he smiles, kissing your tear streaked cheek as he interlaces his longer fingers with yours.
Humans and Na’vi can fuck, but we’rnt designed to. His dick is overwhelimgly big and will really injure you if the two of you aren't careful about this.
You both gasp sharply as his tip breaches you.
It hurts, it’s agonizing. It’s the kind of pleasure pain that you didnt even know could exist. Everytime you think you can adjust, he pushes in another inch. But oh, how you missed it. Being so full it feels like you’re going to burst. You’re pussy flutters as it fights to take him and you focus in on his face.
It’s all scrunched up in heavy concentration. His lips speared between his sharp teeth in a way that has them almost bleeding.
You can't have that. You tug him into a kiss, soothing the abused flesh with your tongue.
“I-I dont want to hurt you” He whimpers as his forehead rests against yours.
“It’s okay, you’re okay” You hum to him, grasping at his hand even tighter “I love what you do to me. I love how you feel”
When he bottoms out you think he must be in your ribs. Hes still, letting your body get used to him. Trying to be kind. You want to tell him that there’s no getting used to his size. That he could fuck you every day for the rest of your lives and he would still feel just as massive.
“Please” you wail instead “please”
The first gentle snap of his pelvis has you both reeling. Your thighs lock around his thin hips, urging him. You can take it. It only takes a little urging for him to lose himself. The harsh stretch of it has you shaking as your over sensitive pussy tightens. You’re coming again, less intense the the previous orgasms, thankfully.
Neteyam had been so focused on making you feel good that he’d neglected his hard, weeping cock. His balls are so full that he knows he’s not going to be able to draw this out.
You know you have to look stupid, mouth hanging open as you raggedly gasp for breath, letting out punched out sounds as Neteyam pounds into you. You cant look away from his face though.
It’s mesmerizing, all of it. The sounds he lets out. The way that his braids sway with the rhythm of his pleasure seeking body. His broad shoulders, bulging biceps and forearms- you are so fucked.
You’re so in love.
“Please Y/N” He wheezes as you squeeze around him, letting go of your hand so he can wrap both of his arms around your lower back “I can’t hold it. W-where should I?”
Oh. Oh, he’s the sweetest man. He always has been.
You peck his lips, not minding that he’s too lost in his own pleasure to really kiss you back
“Come inside me. Come inside me. Come inside me” it’s a heated chant, broken and breathy by the erratic rhythm of his hips and he buries his head in your neck, wailing in the skin there.
Just for a moment, lost in the haze of sex, you can tell he forgets his own strength. Thrusts into you so hard that you scream out in pain, the mushroom tip of his long cock batters your cervix relentlessly. Its a sharp, startling sensation that you’ve never known but you ride it out for him. Desperately trying to keep your whimpers of discomfort at bay.
When he comes, his whole body goes still and ram rod straight. He hugs you tightly to him. You wish you could see his face. Next time, hopefully.
He’s Neteyam, the mighty warrior. The dutiful son. The next clan leader but as he shakes and twitches and basks in the afterglow you can't help but want to baby him. But stroke his back softly, rubbing the residual tension out of his tired muscles.
He’s your big ol’ pussy cat, you’d always teased. He purrs like one every time you’re affectionate with him.
You can’t help but run your hands along his sensitive spine. Let the length of his tail run through the loop of your fingers. He grins and flicks it from side to side. He’d always thought your fascination with it was amusing.
“Are you okay?” he mutters, still hidden in your hair as he starts to come back to himself and you hum, moving up to pat his braids.
“Mmhmm” you’re maybe not as capable of making words as you though you were. He chuckles and hugs you. Holds you in his big arms in a way that makes you feel untouchable.
The two of you lie in that room for as long as you can, until he has to start heading back to Home Tree, it’s almost morning and his parents are early risers. They’ll look for him if hes not in his tent…
It's hard. Letting him go. Even though you know he’ll be back. You keep pulling him back in for kisses, holding onto his muscular arms until he laughs and peels you off of him.
“I’ll be back my love. I’ll always return for you”
You frown but agree, pushing him away to get re-dressed- “How am I supposed to go back like this! Neteyam I don't have any pants!”
He’d shredded your shorts and panties. Literal tatters of cloth are all that’s left.
Neteyam cracks up, almost keeling over. Thinking he’s oh so funny. It lightens the situation and makes letting him go- watching him disappear back in the forest a little easier.
You end up having to pull your fortunately oversized t-shirt down as far as it can go as you make a mad dash across the facility, back to your dorm. You fall asleep grinning, thinking about how the panties had been a necessary sacrifice.
———
Norms on late night watch, keeping a bored, admittedly not sharp enough eye on the security camera’s feeds. With the rainy season, came an influx of Slinths’. It made sense to have a lookout, and somehow he’d gotten saddled with an overnight shift.
He’d definitely fallen asleep for a few hours. Not that he’d tell anyone of that fact.
There is nothing that could prepare him for what he see’s on the screen, over in the desolate East Bay. First, he thinks that he’s hallucinating, his sleep bogged eyes playing tricks on him.
He rubs them hard with his knuckles, not believing the image that is large and clear on the security footage.
It’s Neteyam. Inside the facility which almost never happened. And he’s bending down, his lips locked with Y/N’s . Kissing her hard and long before she punch’s in the code, and opens the air locked door to let him back out into the shadowy eclipse.
Norm’s learned a lot living on this strange moon- Pandora was mysterious. Full of things his brilliant mind would never understand. So he does what he does’ most of the time.
Minds his own business.
So I’ve had this idea cooking for months, but didn’t have the bandwidth to get it written down. The ideas wouldn’t translate to page and I still kind of feel like they didn’t butttttt whatever. This is pure self indulgence. I am so much more in love with Neteyam now. He is SUCH a good guy. Ugh.
Also, please remember that my requests are OPEN! Send in all that good shit. Come blue alien brain rot with me!
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kingofbodyrolls · 14 days
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Last Night in Magic Shop | pjm
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Summary: You find yourself down at the local club, Magic Shop, because your best friend feels like your lovelife is dry as ice. You did not plan on meeting a handsome stranger, who moves his body like an angel, but speaks like the devil. Feeling like he might match your nasty needs, you take him home, enjoying an unforgettable night filled with pleasure.
Pairing: jimin x reader (female, “Y/N”)
Genre + AUs: strangers to lovers, one night stand, vampire!au, smut (pwp), and a little sprinkle of angst and fluff (it’s very short and minor)
Word Count: 12.5k
Rating: mature / +18
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Warnings: explicit smut, exhibitionism + semi public sex (they are in a car and kinda get caught and they stop), kissing, grinding, thighs (yes it’s a warning), a harness (as fashion, yes, also a warning), choking, dirty talk, power play (it’s very dynamic but they are both trying to be more dominant, lol), dom/sub undertones, pleasing kink, oral (female and male receiving), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, biting, mentions of blood (it’s brief at the end), rough sex, but also very intimate, breast and nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex, spitting— in general this one is very dirty, flirty and rough! 
Author’s note: hi!!!! This is my gift to all you lovely people that follow me, and also to everyone else too! 💜 I really want to thank you, for following me, for reading my stories, for following my recs and library and helping me to show love to all the other authors on this platform that way 🫶 Thank you, truly. This is my gift to you— for my 1k follower milestone 🥳 It actually happened some time ago, I was still writing my long series at the time, so I didn’t really have time to celebrate it, but I really wanted to, so here I am bearing a gift! It’s another filthy one, and I have so much fun writing these, because this isn’t what I normally write (I’m more the fluffy and smutty, a lot of detail and words type of gal). I appreciate you all so much, and to those few people who really interact with me by commenting, messaging me, and just being there— thank you, you are incredible and I love you so much 🥹 Thank you, I hope you enjoy this one 💜 
Author’s note(2): this is pure utter filth yet again. I didn’t proofread this (I might do it later and find my stupid mistakes), but right now, I’m not in the mood. I hope it isn’t horrible, I’m feeling like that myself, but I really tried to make it extra filthy (more so than what I usually write). I do still hope that you enjoy and like it 🌸
Do you prefer to read on AO3? Well, it's posted there too!
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Despite your usual aversion to clubbing—the cacophony of deafening music, the stifling heat enveloping you, your skimpy outfit clinging to your skin like a second layer—somehow, you find yourself succumbing to the relentless persuasion of your best friend, Hana, who insists on dragging you down to the pulsating heart of the local club scene, Magic Shop. Why you’re willingly diving into this chaotic abyss, well, that’s a fucking mystery even to you.
As Hana navigates the bustling bar to order drinks, you scan the crowded expanse for a spot to settle, but every booth seems occupied in this sea of bodies pulsating to the throb of the music. Amidst the frenzy, your gaze drifts inevitably to the dance floor, where a blonde haired man commands attention with his effortless grace, his movements a symphony of fluidity and raw sensuality. Mesmerized, you can’t tear your eyes away, tracing the contours of his physique, the chiseled jawline, the tantalizing glimpse of collarbones beneath his unbuttoned shirt. The way that he moves his hips, undulating and assaulting the air like he’s making love to it, sends dangerous spikes of arousal through your body. And then, your breath catches as you notice the daring accessory adorning his torso—a leather harness, snugly embracing his waist wrapped around him twice and being collected at his shoulders, with a tantalizing hint of danger, leaving you spellbound and inexplicably captivated.
No. That couldn’t possibly be your saliva glistening on the floor, could it?
“Have you found a place to sit?” Hana’s voice interrupts your trance, but as you remain transfixed, she tracks your gaze to the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor, drawing an eclectic crowd like moths to a flame. With a knowing chuckle, she realizes the source of your fixation.
“Ah... Jimin has caught your eye,” she chuckles, a mischievous smirk dancing on her lips as she wets them with the tip of her tongue. With a playful wink, she acknowledges your attraction before swiftly scanning the room for the elusive empty booth you had overlooked.
She drags you along with your drinks to an unoccupied booth, the crimson leather beckoning like a siren’s call. You both sink into the plush seats, but your attention remains tethered to Jimin, captivated by his every fluid motion.
You’re spellbound, utterly captivated by the mesmerizing display unfolding before you. How does someone possess such mastery over their own body? With each twist and turn, Jimin exudes a level of control that borders on otherworldly, his slender frame clad in skin-tight leather pants that leave little to the imagination. His thighs, robust and powerful, evoke a primal longing within you, God, what you’d do to be crushed by those.
The sound of something snapping jolts you from your trance, and you instinctively tear your gaze away from Jimin, heat flooding your cheeks and ears as you turn towards your best friend. Your heart pounds, caught between embarrassment and exhilaration, as her fingers snap, commanding your attention back to her, a silent reminder of the real world beyond your intoxicating reverie.
“You’ve got it bad for him,” she smirks, teasing and taunting in equal measure as she swirls her straw through her drink, a wicked gleam dancing in her eyes before her lips playfully encircles the straw, a silent challenge hanging in the air.
“No, I don't,” you declare, the lie hanging heavy in the air, though you’re well aware she sees right through you. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, betraying your denial, while your gaze remains ensnared by the mesmerizing figure on the dance floor. With each pulse of the music, your heart threatens to break free from your chest, pounding an erratic rhythm of desire and apprehension.
“You and every other soul in Magic Shop,” she bursts out laughing, a knowing twinkle in her eye as she brings her drink to her lips once more, the ice clinking against the glass in rhythm with the pulsating beat of the music.
Your brows knit together in a mix of frustration and discomfort. She’s keenly aware of how long it’s been since you’ve let loose, both on the dance floor and in the bedroom. She knows the ache of longing that's settled deep within you, a silent companion during those lonely nights. And perhaps that’s why she’s orchestrated this night out, dragging you to this chaotic den of temptation, her intentions as transparent as glass: she wants you to indulge, to find release in the arms of another.
Yet, despite Hana’s persistent nudges towards potential romantic connections, you harbor little optimism for any amorous encounters tonight beyond enjoying the company of your friend. It’s not that you hold rigid standards, per se, but after navigating through numerous relationships and even dalliances with one-night stands, you’ve come to a firm conclusion: you don’t crave love, nor do you feel a pressing need for a man in your life. However, Hana sees it differently; she views your reluctance to dive back into the dating pool as a lamentable missed opportunity for some good dick, hence her relentless efforts to nudge you towards potential romantic escapades.
None of your past relationships have managed to captivate you for long; they’ve all fallen short of taming your restless spirit or fulfilling your insatiable hunger. None have been able to meet you on equal footing, to sate the voracious appetite that burns within you.
But as you watch Jimin, something shifts within you, challenging your steadfast stance on one-night stands. Holy fuck, the man’s dancing is nothing short of mesmerizing, and if you claimed you weren’t already feeling a surge of arousal just from laying eyes on him, well, that would be a blatant lie.
He might just possess the rare ability to match your intensity, your insatiable hunger for connection. He exudes an aura of irresistibility that both entices and intimidates you, knowing full well he could be too much to handle. But you revel in the thrill of the chase too much to resist the temptation of a potentially unforgettable encounter.
You find yourself unable to shake the thought: does the way he moves on the dance floor hint at his prowess between the sheets? Those hips, snapping and thrusting with such abandon, leave little to the imagination, igniting fantasies of what they could do in a more intimate setting. If only it weren’t just the air he was thrusting into…
Fuck.
A shiver of apprehension snakes down your spine as you witness the crowd parting, creating a path directly towards you. Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as you realize the magnetic force drawing him closer is aimed squarely in your direction.
His gaze, as dark as the depths of the club’s chaos, pierces through the tumult, locking onto you with a laser-like intensity. In those obsidian orbs, a potent mixture of desire, confidence, and a hint of something dangerous dances. A quick flick of his tongue over his lips sends a jolt of electricity through the air, so fleeting you almost doubt you saw it, yet you can’t shake the image of something glinting, sharp, nestled between his teeth.
Your pulse races even faster, a frantic rhythm matching the pounding bass of the music, as Hana’s kick under the table barely registers amidst the magnetic pull of Jimin’s gaze. With each step he takes toward you, the air grows thinner, suffused with the heady anticipation of his proximity. Your lungs strain for oxygen, chest heaving with each shallow breath, as he finally stands before you, a commanding presence that leaves you breathless and utterly captivated.
“Hi,” his voice is a seductive melody, dripping with a sweetness that lingers in the air like honey. His complexion, paler than the moonlight, seems to shimmer under the dim lights of the club, casting an ethereal glow that draws you in even closer.
“I haven’t seen you in The Magic Shop before. Care to dance?” His invitation is laced with an enticing charm, emphasized by the subtle swipe of his tongue over his lips, leaving them glistening with a tempting sheen. Those lips, plush and inviting, evoke a sinful allure, almost reminiscent of a Bratz doll, but with a touch of dangerous sophistication. And his eyes, simultaneously gentle yet piercing, hold a captivating depth that beckons you further into his intoxicating world.
For a fleeting moment, you’re rendered speechless, caught off guard by his proposition, until Hana’s insistent nudge against your shin reignites your senses. With a jolt, your mind snaps back into focus, racing to catch up with the whirlwind of emotions and desires swirling within you.
You can’t help but smile, warmth flooding your cheeks as a rosy hue paints your features. “Sure,” you reply, the word escaping in a breathless whisper, your heart pounding in anticipation of what the night may hold.
With a quick glance and an apologetic smile, you abandon both Hana and the untouched drink sitting before you, the promise of the dance floor eclipsing any lingering sense of guilt. She waves you off with a knowing smirk and a playful wink, seamlessly returning her attention to her own drink, her silent encouragement echoing in your mind as you navigate towards Jimin.
With a firm yet gentle grip, Jimin guides you back to the heart of the pulsating dance floor, his touch igniting a wave of electric anticipation. Envious gazes track your every move as he positions you in the center, his fingers finding their place on your hips with a confident precision. With each sway to the rhythm, the world fades away, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you and the music.
You’re enveloped in a trance-like state, surrendering to the rhythm dictated by his touch. While you may not consider yourself a skilled dancer, you grasp onto the simplicity of a few basic moves, but in this moment, you relinquish control, allowing the music to guide your every sway and dip, melding your body to its seductive melody.
Amidst the snickers and the encroaching dancers, Jimin remains unfazed, his attention steadfastly fixed on you and you alone. The world may swirl with whispers and glances, but in his eyes, there’s only the two of you, locked in a mesmerizing dance of desire and lust.
Drawing nearer, Jimin’s presence becomes almost suffocating, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in. His voice, dripping with a seductive allure that sends shivers down your spine, wraps around you like a venomous embrace. “What’s your name?” He murmurs, each word laced with a potent mixture of desire and danger, leaving you utterly captivated.
“Y/N,” you pant, the syllables escaping your lips in a breathless whisper, as if each letter were a confession of the wildfire burning within you. Your heart races like a runaway train, its thunderous beats drowning out the cacophony of the club around you. A flush of heat spreads through your body, igniting a primal fire that blazes from within, leaving you certain that every inch of you must be dripping with arousal, pooling at your feet like molten desire.
“I’m Jimin,” he introduces himself, the words carrying a weight of promise as his fingers tighten around your hips, almost leaving an imprint on your skin. You nod in silent acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you, as if the intensity of his touch speaks volumes more than mere words ever could.
Suddenly, he spins you around, pulling you flush against him, his dick pressing intimately against your ass as he grinds against you with an electrifying urgency. Resting his head on your shoulder, he envelops you in his intoxicating presence, the rhythm of the music pulsating through both of you. “You know,” he whispers huskily into your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “I can smell you from here. And damn, you smell so damn good.”
Your heart leaps into your throat as he playfully nips at your earlobe, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. With a daring touch, his hand edges dangerously close to your core, his fingers trailing along the hem of your dress, hiking it up just enough to send a shiver of anticipation down your spine.
The pressure of his body against yours, the rhythmic grind of his hips, brings an undeniable awareness of the growing bulge pressing into you with every movement. Each subtle thrust sends a surge of heat coursing through you, igniting an even fiercer desire that has you practically dripping with anticipation.
Releasing your hips with a tantalizing touch, he withdraws slightly, allowing you a moment to dance before him, a silent invitation to showcase your allure. His gaze, smoldering with appreciation, traces the curves of your body as he maneuvers around you, closing the distance once more. As he resumes his sensual grind against you, you're entranced by the fluidity of his movements, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of the music and the magnetic pull of his presence.
“Are you some kind of professional dancer?” You manage to question, though the words emerge as a breathless whisper, your lip caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to contain the moan that hovers on the edge of your lips, provoked by the tantalizing roll of his hips against your own.
Awareness of the surrounding stares registers somewhere in the back of your mind, but in this pulsating sea of bodies, everyone’s lost in their own rhythm. The only thing that matters is the intoxicating sensation of Jimin’s body pressed against yours, sending waves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.
He leans in once more, his voice a seductive melody laced with a tantalizing blend of sweetness and danger. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear, “I’m a dancer.” Each word drips with an intoxicating allure, drawing you deeper into the irresistible allure of his world.
You gulp audibly, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, where his heart beats with a rhythm so languid, it could almost convince you it’s ceased to beat altogether. Yet, beneath the surface, it pulses steadily, a silent testament to the calm amidst the storm of his fervent movements upon the dance floor.
You lock eyes with him, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of your lips. “So,” you tease, your voice barely a whisper, “are you as flexible in bed as you are on the dance floor?”
He licks his lips once more, a subtle gesture that sends a jolt of anticipation coursing through you. In that fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of something primal, something dangerously alluring flickering in the depths of his eyes. But before you can grasp it fully, it vanishes like a wisp of smoke, leaving you both captivated and curious.
His laughter spills forth, rich and raspy, a symphony that resonates deep within you, setting your senses ablaze. His eyes crinkle at the corners as his smile widens, transforming his face into a captivating portrait of mischief and allure. Leaning in close, his breath dances tantalizingly against your ear, each word a whisper that sends shivers down your spine. “Take me to your place,” he murmurs, his voice a seductive promise, “and you’ll find out.”
Your mind reels as a torrent of thoughts flood your senses.
Fuck. Is he for real?
Is this happening? Is he serious? 
Pausing for a heartbeat, you draw back slightly, your gaze sweeping over him as you search for any hint of deceit or jest. The intensity of the moment demands clarity, and you refuse to be swept away without knowing if his words hold genuine intent or mere flirtatious banter.
“You heard correctly, darling. If you take me home, can I taste you?” His question hangs in the air, his eyes betraying an innocence that sharply contrasts with the sinful allure of his voice, each word dripping with a seductive promise that sets your pulse racing.
You swallow, hard, a surge of desire mingling with a tinge of apprehension as his words ignite a primal response within you. Your body betrays you, slick with anticipation, a physical manifestation of your yearning for the dangerous allure he exudes. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you find yourself drawn to the danger like a moth to a flame, craving the exhilarating thrill of the unknown that he represents.
“Yes,” you moan, unable to resist the primal urge coursing through you, as you press your hips into his, igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the air, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from him.
With every passing moment, it feels like the world around you is spinning out of control, but amidst the chaos, one thing remains crystal clear: the overwhelming desire pulsating between you and him. Driven by an insatiable hunger, you seize his hand and lead him back to the booth where you and Hana were previously seated, your heart pounding with the anticipation of what’s to come.
As you approach the booth, the scene unfolds before you—Hana seated on a stranger’s lap, their lips locked in a passionate embrace. With a mixture of amusement and urgency, you gently tap her shoulder, disrupting the fervent kiss as you insert yourself back into the moment.
Hana’s face lights up as she turns to greet you, her smile infectious and her laughter filling the air with vibrant energy. “Leaving already?” She exclaims, her voice buoyant with excitement. “Enjoy yourselves!” With a carefree wave and a raucous cheer, she dives back into her passionate exchange, leaving you to embark on your own adventure.
With a sense of trust and understanding between you and Hana, you leave the club, confident that she can handle herself. However, you both value communication and keeping each other informed of your whereabouts. As you step outside, you swiftly retrieve your phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that you and Jimin are heading to your place.
His fingers, cool against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the night air, envelop you in a sensation that sends a shiver down your spine. Yet, in this moment, the chill is a welcome contrast to the heat of the anticipation swirling around you.
“I’ve ordered an Uber,” he announces with a smirk, his eyes ablaze with desire, a hunger that mirrors your own. Your response is a throaty moan, an instinctive acknowledgment of the electrifying tension between you.
He draws nearer, his presence overwhelming as he pulls you into the circle of his arms. His lips tease over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling anticipation in their wake, before tracing a path to your ear. With a husky whisper that sends shivers cascading down your spine, he confesses, “I really can’t wait to taste you.”
You whimper softly, a mixture of desire and frustration escaping with each breath. The intensity of his desire ignites a fierce longing within you, matching your own fervor for him. The anticipation is almost unbearable, every passing second stretching into an eternity as you yearn for the arrival of the Uber to whisk you away to your place where you can finally satiate the burning desire between you.
As the car pulls up, Jimin graciously holds the door open, a silent invitation into the sanctuary of the backseat. You slide in first, feeling the heat of his presence close behind as he joins you, the space between you shrinking until you’re sitting intimately close, every breath shared in the electric anticipation of what's to come.
You relay your address to the Uber driver, the words tumbling from your lips with a sense of urgency that matches the pounding of your heart. With each passing moment, you draw closer to the sanctuary of your home, to the promise of Jimin’s touch enveloping you, surrounding you, until you’re consumed by the fiery desire that burns between you.
Jimin’s lips glisten with a subtle sheen as he licks them, a tantalizing gesture that sets your senses ablaze. His touch, cool against the warmth of your skin, sends a shiver of anticipation racing down your spine as his fingers find purchase on your thigh. With your dress hitched up slightly, you can’t help but tense at the sensation, every nerve alive with the electric current of his touch.
You bite down on your lip, a surge of anticipation coursing through you as his fingers inch closer and closer to your core. Your body responds with an undeniable urgency, your arousal evident in the way your pussy clenches and glistens with desire. Every fiber of your being screams with need, your craving for him reaching a fever pitch. With his fingers poised just shy of their destination, his gaze locks with yours, a silent question hanging in the air.
“Can I?” He murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.
You bite down on your lip with a fervor that borders on desperation, the taste of copper flooding your senses as you draw blood. With a sharp inhale, you part your thighs, offering him unrestricted access to the throbbing ache between them, your drenched cunt aching to be touched, to be claimed by him.
His fingers remain still, a maddening contrast to the raging desire coursing through you, and frustration begins to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. In a desperate attempt to incite movement, you roll your hips, a silent plea for his touch to ignite the fire within you. Instead, his response is unexpected, his grip on your thigh tightening with a roughness that sends a jolt of electricity racing through you.
“Use your words, pretty.”
His gaze is penetrating, holding you in a vice grip of intensity that leaves you breathless and trembling. As you feel yourself drowning in the depth of his eyes, a desperate plea escapes your lips in a whispered whimper, “Please.”
You part your legs wider, a silent invitation for him to delve deeper into the intoxicating depths of your desire. In response, he surges forward, capturing your lips with his own in a searing kiss that ignites a fiery passion between you. His lips, impossibly soft and pillowy, leave you yearning for more even as they reluctantly part from yours. As his hand finally descends to your bare pussy, stroking your exposed clit with deliberate intent, his words hang in the air like a taunt, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “You’re not wearing underwear,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
You chuckle, a bold and bratty streak emerging within you as you revel in the delicious tension between you. “I’m not,” you reply, your voice laced with a playful defiance that only serves to fuel the fire between you.
He returns to kissing you with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze, the heat of his lips melding with yours in a passionate dance of desire. Each kiss is a tantalizing blend of heat and moisture, igniting a primal hunger within you. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their exploration of your core, teasing you with light strokes that send waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
Lost in the throes of ecstasy, a strangled moan escapes your lips, echoing the depth of your pleasure. As your eyes flutter open, you’re met with the stern gaze of the Uber driver reflected in the rearview mirror. Without a word spoken, his disapproving stare speaks volumes, conveying his unspoken demand with chilling clarity, leaving you both startled and exhilarated by the illicit thrill of being caught in the act.
You reluctantly pull away from Jimin’s embrace, your breath ragged and labored, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you address both him and the Uber driver. “Sorry,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper, a mix of apology and urgency lacing your words. With a silent gesture to Jimin, you convey the unspoken agreement to restrain yourselves until you reach the privacy of your own home, the anticipation of what's to come only adding to the charged atmosphere between you.
Instead, you lean your head against his shoulder, seeking solace in his warmth, your hand finding its place on his thigh, tantalizingly close to the growing bulge in his pants.
The car ride feels like an eternity, every passing moment tinged with the tension of anticipation and the weight of the Uber driver’s disapproving gaze in the rearview mirror. As the vehicle finally comes to a halt in front of your apartment building, you’re met once again with the stern glare of the driver, a silent reminder of the boundaries you’ve overstepped. With a contrite nod, you silently acknowledge his unspoken reprimand, eager to escape the confines of the car and indulge in the privacy of your own space.
Jimin shadows your every move as you lead the way to the elevator, his presence a palpable force at your back. With a silent determination, you press the buttons, the soft chime signaling the arrival of the elevator. Stepping inside, the silence between you hangs heavy, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. As you press the button for the 7th floor, the doors begin to slide shut, sealing you in. Before you can react, Jimin’s hands are on you, spinning you around and pinning you against the wall with a force that steals your breath away.
His lips capture yours in a searing kiss, igniting a blaze of desire that consumes you both. As his tongue seeks entrance, you part your lips willingly, inviting him into a sensual dance of intertwining desires. Together, your tongues swirl and dance in a passionate embrace, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through every fiber of your being.
A low, guttural moan escapes your lips, muffled by the intensity of the kiss as waves of heat and need cascade through your body. Every touch, every sensation leaves you burning with desire, your body aching for more of him, yearning to be consumed by the fire of his touch.
His roughness only fuels the fire burning within you, each forceful movement igniting a primal hunger that drives you wild with desire. The sensation of being pressed against the elevator wall sends shivers of excitement coursing through your body, intensifying the urgent need building between you. Unable to resist the intoxicating pull, you grind your core against his, the friction sending sparks flying and eliciting a guttural groan of pleasure from him, further fueling the fiery passion enveloping you both.
With a sudden ding, the elevator doors slide open, signaling your arrival at your floor with a jolt of anticipation.
A thin strand of saliva lingers, a tangible link between you and Jimin as you reluctantly part from his plush lips. The intensity of your kiss leaves you both breathless, panting heavily as if you’ve exerted yourselves far more than you actually have.
With a sense of urgency, you dart out of the elevator, tugging him along in your wake, each step quickened by the feverish anticipation coursing through your veins. As you approach your door, your movements become frantic, fingers fumbling in your purse in search of the keys, while his hands boldly explore the curves of your ass, fingers gripping with a hunger that mirrors your own.
A shiver of raw desire courses through you, electrifying every nerve as the keys slip from your trembling fingers. With a shaky breath, you bend down to retrieve them, the movement pressing your ass tantalizingly against his hardened dick, sending a jolt of anticipation surging through both of you.
A deep, primal growl escapes him, a guttural symphony of desire as you press your body against his, grinding against his throbbing cock with a fervor that leaves you both breathless. Finally seizing the keys, you straighten up, the charged silence between you, signaling the beginning of what promises to be an unforgettable night.
Before slipping the keys into the lock, you cast a teasing glance over your shoulder, a mischievous smirk playing on your lips as you drink in the sight of him. His eyes are dark pools of desire, wide and unblinking, reflecting a hunger that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. In that moment, you recognize the potent combination of lust and danger lurking within him, a heady concoction that only serves to heighten the intensity of your desire.
As you turn the key in the lock, the door swings open, but before you can even react, Jimin’s strength propels you forward, pressing you firmly against it. With a forceful urgency, he shoves you against the wall inside, your back meeting it with a thud, his movements swift as he swiftly closes and locks the door behind him. Keys tumble from your grasp once more, but in the heat of the moment, their clatter goes unnoticed. His lips find yours again in a searing kiss, a low growl rumbling from deep within him as he hungrily seeks to devour you, his desire palpable and insatiable.
“I want you so bad, please tell me I can have you,” he pants between feverish kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he pleads for permission, his desire echoing in every word. Overwhelmed by the intensity of his passion, you respond with a soft moan, your head nodding in silent affirmation, giving yourself over completely to the irresistible pull of his longing.
In a sudden rush of boldness, you recall his desire for vocal affirmation, and with a newfound confidence, you meet his gaze head-on. “I want you too,” you declare, your voice laced with a breathless urgency. “I want to suck your dick,” you continue, your words dripping with a raw desire that sets your pulse racing.
A deep, primal groan escapes him, reverberating through your shared kiss, as he breaks away just long enough to deliver his fervent response. “No,” he breathes against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “I want to taste you,” he declares, his words a promise of untold pleasures yet to come.
With a commanding presence, he presses his body against yours, pinning you firmly to the wall as his lips hover tantalizingly close to your neck, poised over your throbbing pulse point. In a surge of passion, he dives in, his kisses and licks igniting a fervent blaze of desire that leaves you gasping for air, each grunt and growl a primal symphony of pleasure echoing through the heated embrace.
His hands roam hungrily over your hips, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive urgency that sends shivers down your spine. Meanwhile, your own hands, rendered momentarily powerless by the overwhelming intensity of his touch, hang limply at your sides, unable to resist his commanding hold.
One of his thighs effortlessly slots between yours, pressing intimately against your core and sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. The friction ignites a primal response, coaxing a wanton moan to escape your lips, its echoes reverberating through the otherwise quiet hallway of your apartment.
As your brain snaps back to attention, your hands instinctively find their way to his hips, tracing the lines of his body with a newfound sense of purpose. With a boldness born of desire, you seek out his hardened dick, stroking him through the fabric of his pants with a firm yet teasing touch. His response is immediate and intense, a guttural moan escaping his lips and mingling with the heat of your kiss.
Your touch elicits a symphony of sweet, needy noises from him, each sound fueling the fire of your desire until you notice a subtle shift in his gaze. In that moment, something snaps within him, a primal instinct unleashed as his eyes darken with an intensity that sets your senses ablaze.
With a sudden, electrifying intensity, one of his hands ascends to your neck, his fingers curling possessively around it as he begins to exert pressure, cutting off your air supply. 
The sensation of oxygen deprivation sends a rush of lightheaded euphoria coursing through you, mingling with the overwhelming arousal that pulses relentlessly through your veins. In that moment, every nerve in your body ignites with a primal hunger, the boundary between pleasure and pain blurring into a tantalizing blur of ecstasy.
With an irresistible force, he withdraws slightly, his fingers maintaining their tight grip around your neck, a gesture of rough dominance that sets your senses ablaze with anticipation. Despite the intensity of his touch, there’s a calculated restraint in his actions, a deliberate balance between aggression and control that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. As you meet his gaze, you’re ensnared by the dark depths of his eyes, which shimmer with a potent combination of desire, danger, and an unspoken promise of untold pleasures yet to come. The sensation has your stomach knotting with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension.
“Behave,” he hisses, his words a menacing command that sends a shiver down your spine as you struggle for precious air, denied by his unyielding grip. With a wicked smirk, he releases his hold on your throat, and you stagger, your body nearly buckling beneath the weight of the intensity that courses through you, threatening to send you crumbling to the floor in a dizzying haze of desire and submission.
Gasping for air, your chest heaves with the effort as you cough, the sensation of your lungs burning only fueling your resolve. With determination shining bright in your eyes, you meet his gaze head-on. “No,” you assert, your voice trembling with defiance yet laced with an undeniable sense of strength and conviction.
With a mischievous smirk playing on your lips, you lick them in anticipation before lowering yourself gracefully to the floor, your gaze locked on his with an unspoken challenge. Swift and determined, your fingers deftly find the button of his sleek black leather pants, skillfully undoing them before defying gravity and pulling them down along with his boxers, exposing him fully to your hungry gaze. 
As his cock springs free, a resounding thud fills the room as it hits his stomach, the sound echoing off the walls with a palpable intensity. Thick and girthy, it stands proudly before you. While he may not boast the longest length you’ve encountered, you recognize that true pleasure lies not in size alone, but in the mastery of technique and the depth of connection shared between two bodies.
Anticipation courses through you like a current as you contemplate the possibilities of his prowess, a hunger igniting within you at the thought of experiencing his mastery firsthand. His cock, a work of art in its own right, boasts a rosy head glistening with a single droplet of precum, a tantalizing preview of the delights to come. With a confident grip, you encircle it with your hand, eliciting a hiss of pleasure from his lips as you begin to explore the contours of his dick.
With innocent doe eyes, you gaze up at him, lashes fluttering like the delicate wings of a butterfly, as you teasingly dart out your tongue to caress the glistening head of his cock. Each lick is a deliberate stroke of temptation, your movements reminiscent of savoring an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day, the taste of him a delectable treat to be savored. And all the while, your eyes remain locked with his, a silent challenge passing between you.
“You’re misbehaving,” he pants, his voice laced with a mixture of warning and desire, yet his gaze softens with an unmistakable tenderness that belies any true threat. But the allure of pushing his boundaries further is too intoxicating to resist, so you continue your ministrations with a defiant smirk, relishing in the delicious tension that crackles between you.
“But you like it, don’t you?” You tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you bat your eyes at him once more. Your hand continues its rhythmic stroking, each movement eliciting a fervent pant of pleasure from him, as the lines between restraint and abandon blur in the heat of the moment.
“I can tell,” you purr, a mischievous smirk dancing upon your lips as you lean in to kiss the head of his cock. With tantalizing finesse, your tongue traces along his slit, teasingly exploring every contour and eliciting a shiver of pleasure that courses through him like wildfire.
“Fuck,” he pants, his voice thick with desire as his body quivers under your touch, every sensation echoing with raw intensity. And oh, how you revel in it, the sheer power of your influence over him igniting a fire within you that burns with insatiable passion.
“Spit on my tongue,” you command, your voice a sultry whisper as you eagerly present your tongue before him, a bold invitation that speaks volumes of your desire. The air crackles with anticipation as you wait for his response, every moment pregnant with the promise of ecstasy.
He regards you with a questioning gaze, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re a nasty one, aren’t you?” He muses, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
“Yes. I’m nasty,” you assert, your voice dripping with unabashed confidence as you hold his gaze, unyielding in your demand. “Now spit in my mouth,” with an enticing flicker of your tongue, you beckon him to fulfill your desire, every nerve alive with anticipation for the illicit thrill that awaits.
Immediately complying, he spits on your awaiting tongue, a primal act of submission and passion that ignites a fiery intensity between you. With a seductive smile playing on your lips, you tease him with a playful sway of your hips before taking his dick deep into your mouth in one smooth motion.
You start with a deliberate rhythm, drawing him in with deliberate slowness that belies the fervent desire burning within you. Each inch of him fills your mouth, your throat accommodating his cock as you battle your own limits, a testament to your unwavering dedication to his pleasure. His fingers intertwine with your hair, a gentle yet commanding hold that guides and encourages you to unleash the full force of your prowess.
“Oh fuck,” he rasps, his voice trembling with raw desire as you envelop him with your mouth, every movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.
You mumble around his cock, the vibrations sending a symphony of pleasure through his body, each note echoing with the intensity of your desire.
He begins to fuck into your warm mouth with urgency, his thrusts gaining momentum with each slide, his grunts coming out in ragged breaths, sounding like he’s thoroughly out of breath.
“You’re doing so good, such a good girl,” he pants, his gaze fixated on you, your mouth enveloping him completely. The sight alone drives him wild, his arousal escalating as he feels his dick twitching inside your warm, welcoming mouth.
One of his hands grabs your cheek and pushes you further into him, your nose grazing against his dark brown pubic hair, leaving you gasping for air as you feel yourself choking on his dick.
“That’s what you get for misbehaving,” he grunts, a tug on your hair as he pulls you off his dick.
You gasp desperately for air, tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the saliva cascading from your lips.
Amidst your desperate panting, his chuckle pierces the air, laden with a menacing edge. Yet, fueled by your own defiance, you can’t resist the urge to unleash the brat within. With newfound fervor, you envelop him once more, your mouth moving in a wild, frenzied rhythm, eager to reclaim your dominance.
His hands grip your hair once more, tugging gently, an urgent plea in his touch. “I don’t want to come yet,” he murmurs, his voice strained with restraint and desire, a silent request for restraint echoed in his words.
Determined, you persist with fervor, each suction more insistent than the last, as if your very existence hinges on the rhythm of your movements. Sensing his impending release, his body becomes a symphony of tension and release, an exquisite dance to the crescendo of pleasure. Yet you press on, his hands now motionless in your hair, surrendering to the inevitable ecstasy building within him.
You moan softly, the vibration adding to the intensity of the moment, your cheeks hollowing as you draw him in, each breath drawn through your nose a desperate echo of your own need. Glancing up at him, you’re met with eyes ablaze, a visage of pure desire and disarray, his appearance a testament to the pleasure that courses through his veins, leaving him utterly ravished.
You press yourself further onto him, his cock delving deeper until it meets the resistance of your throat. His fingers tighten around your hair, a sensation that ignites a thrilling burn along your scalp, a welcomed discomfort that fuels your desire. With a frustrated hiss, he releases into your waiting mouth, warm liquid cascading down your throat. You fight the urge to gag, focusing on steady breaths through your nose, grounding yourself in the moment as he reaches the peak of ecstasy.
He gasps, his breath ragged, a testament to his spent state as you continue to coax out every last tremor of pleasure. He lets out a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity, prompting you to release his dick with a satisfying pop, a glistening string of saliva bridging the connection between you once more.
“You little minx,” he pants, playfully slapping your cheek as a smirk dances on his lips, his eyes ablaze with mischief, like a wildfire of desire.
“I tried so hard not to come, but I guess you had other plans,” he chuckles, his gaze fixed on you as you lick your lips teasingly, each movement a silent invitation for more mischief.
“Yeah, the night is still young,” you declare, rising to your feet with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Without hesitation, you extend your tongue once more, and this time, Jimin eagerly spits into your waiting mouth, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
“You’re so nasty,” he smirks, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, as if he’s eager to devour every inch of your being.
When you finally pull apart, you can’t help but chuckle softly. “And you love every bit of it,” you tease, a playful glint dancing in your eyes.
He clearly revels in it, evident as he steps back, shedding his pants and boxers until they form a pool at his feet. Even his shoes aren’t spared, kicked off swiftly as he stands there, completely bare from the waist down.
Despite his softened dick, he remains an arresting sight, captivating and dangerous in his nakedness, every contour and line a testament to his allure.
With effortless strength, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you through your apartment, a smirk playing on his lips. “Bedroom?” He suggests, his voice laced with anticipation.
You chuckle softly, nodding towards your right, and with a casual tap of his foot, he swings the bedroom door open. A rush of heat floods through you, your arousal evident as you feel the slick warmth between your legs, undoubtedly coating him.
He opts not to flip the switch, allowing the gentle glow from the kitchen to filter into your bedroom, casting a tantalizing veil of shadows. With a playful yet confident gesture, he tosses you onto the bed, eliciting a spontaneous burst of laughter from you, reminiscent of a lovestruck fool lost in the feelings of her crush.
You’re well aware that catching feelings wasn’t part of the plan, that this was meant to be a fleeting encounter. Yet, as the intensity of the moment swells around you, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to every sensation, every touch, every whispered word shared between you. Despite your best efforts to guard your heart, you can’t help but revel in the dizzying whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, silently acknowledging that you’re utterly captivated by every moment spent in his company.
He lingers above you, a tantalizing pause that leaves anticipation crackling in the air. Then, with a deliberate yet primal grace, he sinks to his knees at the foot of the bed, his hands firmly clasping your ankles as he draws you irresistibly closer to the edge.
With a primal hunger, he yanks your scanty dress up to your waist, a guttural growl escaping his lips as his gaze locks onto your shimmering, needy pussy, the raw desire in his eyes igniting a blazing fire within you.
“Fuck. You’re practically a waterfall down there,” he remarks, his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips as he surveys your drenched arousal.
You spread your legs invitingly, gazing down your body at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go on, have a taste,” you challenge, your voice dripping with anticipation.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs and placing them over his shoulders. His mouth descends to your aching core, lips and tongue poised to give you the attention you crave.
His plush tongue meets your clit first, eliciting a frustrated moan from your lips. He sucks with the hunger of a starved man, savoring your taste. Moving down, he uses his fingers to spread your folds, allowing him to dip his tongue inside your throbbing entrance.
You pant, clenching around his probing tongue, every nerve alight with bliss, feeling as though you’ve been transported to heaven.
His tongue licks and laps at your sensitive skin, each stroke sending shivers through your trembling body. The need building inside you is almost unbearable—you crave so much more.
For a moment, his tongue plunges into your cunt, teasing and stimulating your hole. Growing impatient, your hands dart down to grip his blonde locks, fingers clenching tightly as you try to urge him on, desperate for more of his relentless attention.
He seems to get the hint, moving up to suck on your clit, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you release a soft scream.
Your body clenches, fingers gripping his hair tighter as a frustrated grunt escapes your lips.
The room fills with slurping noises, driving your mind into a frenzy of pleasure.
Suddenly, his fingers prod at your entrance, and you clench in anticipation. God, you want it—you want his fingers so bad. Honestly, you crave a lot more than just his fingers.
He pushes in one finger at first, and your breath hitches. Your walls clench around the single digit, and it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into his hand and face, desperate for more.
Fuck, how is he so skilled with both his hands and mouth? His suction on your clit is relentless, alternating between perfect suction and expertly flattening his tongue, sending shivers down your spine as he strokes your bundle of nerves from side to side.
As a second finger joins the first in your tight hole, you gasp at the delicious stretch. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex, and Jimin’s girthy size alone suggests you’ll need ample preparation. Despite already feeling dripping with anticipation, you know the importance of proper preparation to avoid any uncomfortable burns from the stretch.
With a suction-like force around your clit, he sends you reeling, seeing stars with each electrifying sensation. His face withdraws from your pussy, yet his fingers remain firmly embedded within you, a tantalizing promise of what’s to come.
His face gleams with your essence. His eyes, deep as obsidian, flicker with desire, his lips curved into a teasing smirk as he licks them hungrily. “Think you’re ready for a third finger?”
You moan unabashedly as his fingers find that sweet spot within, every touch igniting a cascade of sensations that render you pliant. Biting your lip to stifle the cries of pleasure, you nod eagerly. “Yes,” you pant, your voice a fervent plea, “please, get me ready for your cock.”
A triumphant smirk dances on his lips as he responds with a pleased grunt, effortlessly sliding in a third finger. The stretch is undeniable, prompting you to draw in a deep breath of air to accommodate the delicious fullness. Though there’s no burning sensation, your body pulses with the intensity of your arousal, each sensation amplified by your slickness.
“You like it?” His voice, a sultry whisper, sends shivers down your spine as he inquires, his pace quickening with each determined thrust of his three fingers inside you. Your response is immediate, a chorus of moans escaping your lips in tandem with his relentless motion.
“Yes,” you gasp, feeling the intensity of his touch reverberate through every fiber of your being. Heat pools at your core, beads of sweat glistening along your hairline, as your body surrenders to the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over you.
“Just wait until I fill you with my cock,” he murmurs, his voice laced with anticipation, his eyes smoldering with desire. “I want to see you fall apart on it. God, you��re so pretty,” he adds, his words a seductive whisper that sends shivers down your spine. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he returns to your pussy, trailing a teasing lick from his fingers buried inside you up to your throbbing clit, igniting a fire of longing within you.
“Fuck, Jimin. Please,” you pant, your voice thick with need. Every nerve in your body aches for his touch, craving the electrifying sensation of his tongue against your skin once more. You can sense the impending arrival of an orgasm, its tantalizing tendrils teasing at the edges of your consciousness, and you yearn for him to push you over the edge, to obliterate every last shred of restraint until you’re consumed by ecstasy.
“Please what?” He taunts again, his tongue teasingly tracing delicate patterns over your throbbing clit. The sensation sends waves of frustration coursing through you, igniting a fierce longing for more of his touch. You can feel the tension building within you, a potent mix of desire and impatience, as you yearn for his tongue to remain there indefinitely, granting you the blissful release you crave.
“Please make me come already!” You pant in exasperation, your fingers digging into the sheets beside your hips, a desperate plea echoing in the heated air between you.
With a shit-eating smirk, he dives back down, his mouth latching onto your clit with aggressive fervor. His relentless licking sends bolts of electricity through your body, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. Meanwhile, his fingers continue their relentless thrusting inside you, creating a symphony of pleasure that promises to tip you over the brink of ecstasy any moment now.
As his teeth tug at your clit, a surge of electricity shoots through your body, igniting every nerve ending with anticipation. The knot in your stomach tightens with each tantalizing pull, signaling the imminent unraveling of your senses.
“Yes. Fuck. I’m gonna come, Jimin-ah! Fuck, you’re so good,” the words tumble from your lips in a breathless rush, punctuated by the primal rhythm of your panting. Your body thrashes with unrestrained pleasure, every nerve alive with the electric touch of his lips and tongue. In response, Jimin’s hand tightens around your hips, pulling you even further down into his face.
As his tongue presses down on your throbbing clit, his fingers continue their relentless thrusts, driving you wild with their rapid pace. Your muscles tighten involuntarily, signaling the imminent arrival of your climax. It’s right there, teetering on the edge, tantalizingly close as every fiber of your being aches for release.
With your body trembling on the precipice of ecstasy, he withdraws his tongue from your throbbing clit, his face shimmering with your essence. “Do you really think you deserve to come?” His question hangs in the air, a challenge laced with mischief and desire.
Frustration boils within you, your body teetering on the edge of release, craving that sweet release. With a hiss of desperation, you prop yourself up on your arms, determined to meet his gaze. “I’ll be a good girl,” you plead, your voice a whispered promise laden with need. “I’ll behave. Just let me... please, let me come.”
His tongue returns to your throbbing clit with a ferocity that reignites every nerve ending, driving you to the precipice of ecstasy faster than thought itself. Your breath catches in your throat, each ragged moan echoing the crescendo building within you. As your body tenses with anticipation, you feel the inevitable release cresting like a tidal wave, crashing over you in blissful waves. Tremors ripple through your body, held securely in his grasp, as he maintains his relentless assault of pleasure, ensuring your euphoria knows no bounds.
As the waves of ecstasy continue to crash over you, he remains steadfast in his ministrations, guiding you through the tempest of pleasure. Yet, as the intensity peaks, reaching heights almost unbearable, you signal your overwhelming sensation by grasping his hair once more, a silent plea for respite amidst the storm of sensation.
His fingers retreat, and a pang of longing fills the void they leave behind, craving the sensation of being filled with his touch once more. His gaze meets yours, ablaze with desire and urgency, mirroring the yearning that courses through your own veins.
“Was it good?” He teases, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at you, observing the subtle flush painting your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.
“Fuck yes,” you pant, your voice husky with desire, feeling thoroughly ravished. Yet, beneath the lingering sensations, anticipation simmers, an eager yearning for him to take you with his cock, to stretch you, to fill you completely with his intoxicating presence.
He comes up to hover over you, his presence intense as he locks eyes with you. “You know what my plan is?” He murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.
Your eyebrow raises in curiosity, your heart beating a little faster as you wait for his next move, uncertain yet intrigued.
“I want to ruin you so deeply that every touch, every kiss, every moment with another will only remind you of me,” he whispers huskily into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as your body responds to his words, your pussy clenching around emptiness at his crude words.
“You’ve already achieved that, Jimin. No other man could ever measure up to the fire you ignite within me,” you confess, your voice laden with desire and admiration, your body still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure.
Your gaze, undoubtedly dazed and intoxicated with lust, fixes on him with an urgency that speaks volumes. “Jimin,” you implore, your fingers grasping at his arms, “I need you inside me. Right now. Please fuck me.”
He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes as he bites his lip in contemplation. “Fuck,” he breathes, desire smoldering in his gaze. “I want to fuck you. Badly. But I don’t have condoms. Do you or are you okay without that?”
You hold his gaze, your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you. “I don’t have any condoms either,” you admit, your eyes searching his for reassurance. “But I’m on birth control and I’m clean. Are you?” Your breath steadies, anticipation threading through your words.
His voice carries a confident assurance, yet there’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he meets yours. “Yeah, I’m clean,” he confirms, his tone firm, but tinged with a hint of vulnerability, as if silently seeking your trust.
“Then fuck me already,” you say, a bashful smile playing on your lips, your eyes locked with his, daring him to make the next move.
Jimin sits up, shedding his harness like shedding inhibitions, unbuttoning his white shirt with a flourish and tossing it carelessly to the floor. Now completely naked, he embodies the essence of a god, his presence both captivating and dangerous. Every line of his form speaks of strength and sin, his lean muscles rippling beneath pale skin that seems to glow in the dim light.
His touch ignites a trail of electricity along your skin as his fingers trace the curve of your sides. With a swift motion, he seizes the fabric of your dress, lifting it over your face, and then, in one fluid movement, he strips it away, revealing your body completely to his hungry gaze.
“No bra?”
With a mischievous chuckle, you shoot him a playful wink, a silent invitation dancing in your eyes.
“You really are a wicked little thing. Were you planning to seduce someone tonight?” His smirk deepens as his gaze lingers on your exposed breasts. His hands, cool against your skin, find their way to your chest, cupping them firmly, coaxing your nipples into stiff peaks within seconds.
He chuckles, his fingers dancing lightly over your skin, teasing and tempting you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath as anticipation courses through your veins.
“No, I just revel in the freedom of my body. Restrictions aren’t my thing. Encountering you, though, was a delightful surprise,” you chuckle, feeling his fingertips tracing patterns over your nipples, each touch sending delicious shivers cascading down your spine.
His fingers encircle both of your nipples, pinching them just so, and your body arches involuntarily, a gasp escaping your lips as you pant for breath.
He guides you further up the bed, positioning your entire body for his pleasure. As he settles between your legs, his fingertips dance along your thighs, each touch sending electric waves of anticipation through your body, leaving you trembling in anticipation.
His voice, a low rumble, breaks through the charged air, his eyes seeking confirmation before he delves deeper into the intimacy between you two. “Are you ready?” He inquires, his gaze locking with yours, seeking not just consent, but a shared desire to plunge into the depths of pleasure together.
You respond with an urgent plea, your voice laden with need as you offer yourself fully to him. “Yes. Put your dick in me now,” you moan, your legs parting eagerly, beckoning him to claim you as your desire ignites the air around you.
With an air of command, he positions you, pulling your thighs onto his sides, his posture exuding dominance. As he rises to a sitting position, his dick completely hard again, standing tall and unyielding, eager to claim you once.
“You’re so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you,” he murmurs, his hand finding his cock, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within his chest.
“Fuck me, please,” you rasp, the urgency in your voice palpable. Begging isn’t your usual style, but right now, you can’t help it. You need him inside you, filling every inch of you. 
As he aligns his dick with your eager entrance, a primal urgency fills the air. The anticipation builds with each teasing prod against your folds, a delicious tension mounting between you. With a low grunt, he starts to push into you, a slow and deliberate motion that sets your senses ablaze, every inch of him awakening a craving you never knew existed.
“Fucking hell, you are tight!” He pants, the raw intensity of his voice echoing the primal desire between you. With a slick ease, he slides inside, your wetness enveloping him like a long-awaited embrace, each inch stirring a tempest of pleasure that threatens to consume you both.
“Fuck. You’re so thick! It feels so good,” you moan, your voice a symphony of desire as he fills you completely. With him buried deep within, he pauses, his gaze intense and heated, a testament to the raw hunger pulsating between you, his sweat-slicked skin glistening in the dim light.
The way he stretches you is nothing short of incredible, sending waves of sensation rippling through your body. Your hands grasp onto his arms, seeking an anchor in the whirlwind of pleasure, forging a connection to him as he pushes you to the brink of ecstasy.
Then, he begins to move, drawing out slowly only to thrust back in with an irresistible force. Your gasp of pleasure is swallowed by the room as he establishes a rapid rhythm, plunging into you with a relentless urgency.
The bed jolts against the wall, the sound echoing through the room, and you know your neighbors will hear, but you couldn’t care less. You’re being thoroughly ravished, lost in the primal intensity of it all. The sheer ecstasy of the moment eclipses any concern for discretion.
He presses his weight into you, drawing you closer in an embrace that feels almost possessive. In a sudden rush of intimacy, he leans down to meet your lips, igniting a fiery kiss that seems to consume you both. As his body melds with yours, his every movement synchronized with the rhythmic pulse of his thrusts, you feel an electric connection unlike anything you've experienced before.
With tantalizing slowness, he trails kisses along your cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that sends shivers down your spine. His lips wander to your jawline, peppering it with delicate kisses before descending to the curve of your throat. There, he lingers, his mouth exploring every inch, igniting a primal desire that courses through your veins. Gradually, he moves downward, his lips now caressing your breasts with an urgency that matches the pounding of your heart.
His tongue dances sensually around your hardened nipple, sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. As his skilled hand teases and strokes the other, you arch into his touch, a symphony of sensations unraveling within you. With each gentle suck, you find yourself uttering his name in a breathless plea, lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy.
The sensation is intoxicating, a tantalizing mix of pleasure and desire that threatens to consume every inch of your being.
His closeness envelops you, his intoxicating scent mingling with yours, creating an intoxicating blend of desire. With each meeting of your hips, his warmth and the firmness of his cock hitting your sweet spot send ripples of pleasure coursing through your body, eliciting yet another primal moan from your lips.
“Jimin!” You moan, your hands instinctively flying up to his hair, fingers entwining in the soft strands as he devours your nipple, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, igniting a dazzling array of stars behind your closed eyelids.
He hums and chuckles around your breasts, the vibrations sending delightful shivers down your spine, his enjoyment evident in the way he savors every gasp and whimper that escapes your lips.
Then, he shifts his mouth over to the other nipple, the suction intense and demanding, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. Simultaneously, his hand finds the other nipple, tugging at it with a tantalizing mix of firmness and gentleness.
His thrusts are relentless, driving deep into you with an intensity that leaves you reeling, each plunge sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. It’s so overwhelming, you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion.
With a soft pop, Jimin releases your nipple, his lips trailing a path of fire as he moves back up to your neck, planting gentle kisses that send shivers down your spine. 
You pull him tighter into your embrace, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you confess, “Shit. I’m so close.” The urgency in your voice mirrors the pounding of your heart, each beat echoing the relentless rhythm of your desire.
His voice, thick with desire, resonates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he urges, “Come on my cock. I wanna feel you more.”
The raw, primal tone of his words sends a jolt of electricity through you, stirring an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. Every filthy utterance from his lips molds your insides like soft clay, leaving you trembling with an insatiable hunger for more.
His touch ignites a wildfire of sensation, each pinch and twist of your hardened peaks sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body again. You surrender to the delicious torment, your back arching instinctively as uninhibited moans escape your lips, a symphony of desire echoing through the room.
“Cream my dick, I know you can do it,” his words, a potent blend of desire and command, fuel your fervor even more. With each authoritative utterance, your need intensifies, the primal rhythm of his thrusts, his cock hitting heavenly places inside. His voice, a dark symphony of dominance, stirs something primal within you, urging you to surrender completely to the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.
With a tantalizing flick of his fingers as he pinches your nipple again, igniting a rush of sensation through your body, and a thrust that delves deeper than before, your senses blur, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of pleasure. As his dick plunges into you, reaching depths that send shockwaves of ecstasy through your core, you’re transported to the brink of euphoria. On the tender spot of your neck, he sucks a hickey there. With a primal cry that echoes through the room, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you, releasing your essence onto his throbbing cock.
When your walls tighten around him, a low growl of pleasure escapes his lips, punctuating the intensity of the moment. “God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he gasps, his voice laced with ecstasy. As the pressure builds within him, he can feel the impending release drawing near. “I’m gonna come soon too,” he confesses, the urgency in his tone mirroring the electric tension between you.
You pant, your chest heaving as you slowly descend from the peak of your ecstasy. Every breath feels like a blessing, leaving you in a state of serene satisfaction. Jimin’s touch has shifted, his fingers tracing gentle paths along your sides, while his hips move against yours with a newfound tenderness, each roll diving into you in a more sensual manner.
His thrusts delve even deeper, each movement driving him to the core of your being, sending shockwaves of pleasure reverberating through your body. The rhythmic collision of his hips against yours, accompanied by the tantalizing impact of his balls against your pussy, ignites a fire within you, consuming you with an insatiable hunger for more.
He hisses, a primal sound escaping his lips, as you feel the telltale twitch of his cock deep inside you, signaling his imminent release. His breath quickens, each exhale a symphony of urgency, while his once graceful movements give way to a primal frenzy. With a feverish intensity, he plunges into you, each thrust a fervent pursuit of his climax.
“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant, a symphony of pleasure and need in your voice, struggling to maintain your composure as he pounds into you with unrelenting force, each thrust igniting a wildfire of sensation within you. Despite the intensity, or perhaps because of it, you find yourself surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, relishing every moment of his powerful onslaught.
“Shit. I’m losing control. I—, I can’t,” he begins to mumble, his voice strained with an unexpected vulnerability, and you observe a fleeting, pained expression flicker across his face. 
You reach out for him, your hands cradling his face with a tender urgency. “Don’t be afraid,” you murmur, your voice a soothing melody amidst the storm of sensations. “Just let go. Come inside me and fill me up,” you whisper, your words a gentle invitation laced with a primal hunger that echoes the rhythm of your entwined bodies.
His gaze darkens, a tempest swirling in those depths, as if wrestling with unseen forces. With a guttural grunt, he appears on the verge of surrender, yet something holds him back, an inner conflict etched across his features like a turbulent battle playing out before your eyes.
With a few final, desperate thrusts, he succumbs, his release flooding into your welcoming depths, a primal grunt escaping his lips as he fills you with his heated essence, a potent mixture of ecstasy and raw desire intertwining in the heat of the moment.
Ecstasy floods your senses as you revel in the sensation of being completely filled, every nerve ending electrified with pleasure. Your toes curl involuntarily, a physical manifestation of the intense ecstasy coursing through your veins.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” his voice, filled with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, pants out an apology, his breaths ragged and heavy. It’s a symphony of emotions, the frustration of losing control mingling with the sheer bliss of the moment.
Confused by his apology, you chuckle softly, your hands finding solace in tracing patterns on his back, a silent reassurance amidst the continued rhythm of his movements within you. 
His lips tenderly graze your neck, igniting a playful giggle within you. As his affection turns fervent, you relish in the sensation of him marking you, a primal instinct you love. Yet, the playful nip lingers longer, teeth sinking deeper than expected, sending a surge of arousal coursing through your veins. Your moans escalate, desire fueling your body’s response. But as the dizziness sets in and the need for air becomes desperate, a chilling realization dawns upon you—something is wrong.
Your eyelids flutter shut, a shiver racing down your spine as an icy chill envelops you, sapping away your energy. In the eerie silence that follows, darkness descends, swallowing you whole.
Someone shakes you gently, and you recognize Jimin’s touch. A warm, sticky sensation trails down your neck. Blood? The throb in your neck intensifies, a soreness radiating from the spot. Did he bite you so hard that you passed out?
“Y/N, oh my god, I’m so sorry!” His voice trembles with distress and worry as he gazes down at you, his eyes wide with panic.
“Why?” You ask, your voice slurred and heavy with exhaustion. Every word feels like an effort, and you’re overwhelmed by a bone-deep fatigue.
“I’m— I couldn’t stop,” he sobs, his voice cracking with guilt. You’re utterly baffled, trying to piece together what just happened.
“I should have told you sooner,” he mumbles, tears glistening in his eyes and his lips trembling. He looks like a completely different person from the confident man you met in Magic Shop.
“What’s wrong?” you groan in pain, attempting to move your body, but it refuses to cooperate, leaving you feeling heavy and unresponsive.
“I’m a vampire…” he confesses, his eyes lingering on your naked body, the sight of blood trickling from your neck and staining the white sheets.
“What?” Your eyes snap open, awareness flooding back as you see his tear-streaked face. Your heart aches at the sight, and you instinctively reach out, gently brushing away one of his tears.
“It’s okay. I had a feeling,” you murmur, doing your best to reassure him. When his tear-filled eyes meet yours again, you give him a soft, comforting smile.
“I think I drank too much from you. I’m so sorry. I should have asked,” he stammers, his voice heavy with shame. His eyes drop to the floor, reflecting his internal struggle. You can tell he takes immense pride in his self-control, and losing it tonight is tearing him apart.
“Jimin, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you reassure him, masking your own weakness as you attempt to sit up, your arms trembling slightly beneath you.
“It’s not fine. You passed out,” he grumbles, his expression a mix of concern and frustration, his lips forming a subtle pout.
"Oh. I did?" you ask, a flicker of confusion crossing your face as you piece together the fragments of your memory.
You take your hand up to your neck, fingers trembling slightly as they brush over the tender skin. Examining your palm, you find it smeared with a trace of blood, a stark reminder of the unexpected turn the night has taken. It’s not much though, and you guess the bleeding has almost stopped.
You reach out for him once more, closing the distance between you with a sudden, passionate kiss. The intensity of your embrace catches him off guard, his eyes widening in surprise, his lips yielding to the unexpected fervor of your touch.
When you draw back, your gaze locks onto his, unwavering and filled with a mix of emotions. “It’s still the best and most unforgettable one-night stand ever,” you declare, your words carrying a weight of sincerity and a hint of lingering desire.
He offers you a small smile that swiftly morphs into a mischievous smirk, as if he’s silently challenging you to another round.
“You know, I’m all for making this a regular thing, if you’re up for it. I mean, I don’t mind a little bite here and there. Maybe not to the point of blacking out, but everything before that? Damn, it was fucking hot,” you suggest with a playful wink, your sultry gaze locked with his, a subtle invitation lingering in the air as you moisten your lips.
An exasperated groan escapes him, his fangs emerging, sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. You extend your hand, tracing his full lips before daringly brushing your fingertips over his sharp fangs, a mixture of curiosity and arousal coursing through you.
Your gaze drifts downwards, finding his glistening dick coated in a mixture of your essence and his, standing proudly. With a seductive nibble on your lower lip, you reach out, your hand finding his throbbing cock, stroking it with deliberate intent, eliciting a low, guttural moan from him as pleasure courses through his body.
Teasingly, you inquire, “Ready to go for another round already? Got some superhuman stamina hidden in there?” Your jest is accompanied by an increase in pace, your hand working with newfound fervor, eliciting gasps of pleasure from him as his body responds eagerly to your touch.
In between gasps and needy pants, he admits, “Something like that.” 
His voice, dripping with desire, sends shivers down your spine. “I’m ready for more. And you... do you really want this to be a regular thing?” His words punctuate each stroke, his pleasure palpable as he speaks. 
“I’ve never found anyone who could keep up with me and my needs like this,” he confesses, his eyes closing intermittently in pure ecstasy.
“Yes, Jimin, me too,” you breathe, your voice husky with desire. “I feel like I’ve finally met my equal. You satisfy me in ways no one ever has. Please.” Your words, a soft plea, dance across his ear, sending shivers down his spine. As you feel him quivering beneath your touch, you know this connection is something truly special.
“Let me ride you,” you suggest with a sultry smile, but you’re not one to wait for permission. With a swift movement, you push him down onto the bed, eliciting a hiss of surprise followed by a deep, rumbling laugh from him. It’s a playful exchange, full of anticipation and eagerness for what’s to come.
“Fuck, I think I might be in love,” he groans, his words punctuated by a sharp intake of breath as you straddle him, aligning yourself with his throbbing cock. With a slow, deliberate movement, you sink down onto him, relishing in the now familiar, exquisite stretch that never fails to send shivers of pleasure down your spine, something you’ll never tire off.
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161 notes · View notes
chaileaf · 1 year
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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒
part two of anonymous bidder
› featuring: med student!shuntaro chishiya + fem!reader
› word count: 2,674 words
› synopsis: it had been three years since you last seen shuntaro chishiya after graduation. suddenly, a fateful interaction brings you two back together. the question is: will you forgive him?
› rating: nsfw, +18
› cw: vulgar language, explicit content, sex on camera, angst, brief rough sex scene
› setting: after college au where reader is interning as a biotechnologist in a hospital and chishiya is a medical student doing clinical rotations
⤷ chai's note: hey y'all! i really appreciate all the love i received on anonymous bidder so i decided to enlogate it into four to five parts. i know this is a bit short (and extremely less smutty) but i hope you still enjoy it! (also dw pt 3 is gna be way more explicit) i haven't been able to write much because i've been away at medic training for the army (long story) but i wanted to get part two to you guys asap. if you want to be added to the tag list, let me know! anyone who's in my tag list will be tagged in all of my future writings so if you'd rather be tagged in only anonymous bidder update, please lmk! i love you all so much! thank you for allowing me to create beautiful pieces for you guys. i appreciate everything. much love, chai !!
⤷tags: @poetrieshouse @tungstenorc @mackjestic @seraphvm @naegisimp @fishisahappydog @parkersmyth @huachengsbestie01 @chlooooop @bxcndd @kowzs @sleepysnk @luuminou ily guys sm for supporting my writing, you have no idea how much i appreciate it 🫶🏻
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your fingers flipped the pages of your notes while your eyes scanned over the material. “let’s see… test subject a responded to chemicals a and e very well. that’s a good sign.” you whispered to yourself, highlighting the text with your pink pen. “but chemical b and c did not react well. that could be detrimental when putting it into certain med-”
“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.
“y/n? is that… is that you?” a somewhat familiar voice questioned from the breakroom door you didn’t even realize opened. your eyes widened as you turned to face chishiya shuntaro, cheeks going pale and mouth propping itself somewhat open.
“chishiya?” you said out of shock more than actually questioning it. you never thought you’d see him again after college graduation, thinking he’d go to some hot shot hospital for his medical rotations. instead, he was still in shibuya. the hospital was nice, sure, but there were better options for the school’s valedictorian.
“how’ve you been? it’s been, what, almost three years?” chishiya asked with a chortle at the end, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the countertop with his hip. he looked nearly the same as he did when you’d seen him last. his silky blonde strands were still touching his shoulders. the brown eyes that had a habit of scanning everyone in the room were glistening with judgement. his frame looked bigger, as if he’d been working out in his free time. yet, something was off. he wasn’t the same chishiya. his presence seemed softer, as if he was less intense. could it be working with patients made him more susceptible to empathy and sympathy?
“i’ve been good!” your voice sounded excited and somewhat exasperated, as if you were holding a breath before speaking. “i started an internship here under the lead researcher for the hospital so work has been… draining?” you questioned, not sure if that was the right word to use. “but i really like it here! everyone is so nice and welcoming, surprisingly. i thought biotechnologists were snarky assholes.” the last sentence was whispered with a laugh. chishiya stared at you intently, causing the smile that creeped on your lips to fade. “is… is something wrong, chishi-”
“you just look as beautiful as the last time i saw you.” chishiya cut you off. the words were simple, but everything in your brain scattered as if the things he’d said were a complex math problem. you gulped, feeling a familiar crimson rush to your face. the room seemed about ten degrees hotter, causing your breathing to increase ever so slightly with your heart rate. his face was plain, but it felt like he was staring straight into your soul.
“i-” you tried to speak after a few moments of silence to kill the awkwardness. it was to no avail when the words decided to get stuck in your throat. you brushed the strands of hair coming out of your ponytail behind your ear out of embarrassment. “thanks…” your voice was so soft that he almost didn’t hear you. chishiya let out a small laugh, shaking his head. the almost-silver strands fell to cover his face, but you could still see his smile. he was definitely a softer version of the chishiya shuntaro you knew in college.
“you don’t have to be embarrassed, y/n. it’s just a compliment. relax.” you let out an exhale you didn’t realize was trapped in your lungs at the end of his statement. an awkward laugh escaped your mouth as you turned back to your notes, pretending to focus on them instead of letting memories of the past seep in. “anyways, we should go out for lunch today. you down?” he asked. it didn't seem malicious, but you couldn’t help but think that he wanted something else.
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your body was pinned under his, hands wrapped around your wrists as you screamed out of pleasure into the pillow. your back kept arching into him with each stroke of his thick cock. “you love that, don’t ya? fucking whore…” the last two words were mumbled under his breath as he continuously kissed your g-spot with the tip of his member. chishiya uncuffed a hand from your wrists and went to the locks of hair by the nape of your neck, pulling your head backwards to where his lips were pressed against your ear. “i wanna hear you scream my fucking name. show them how much you want me, pretty girl.” he relentlessly pounded into your cunt as you moaned loud enough for the camera to pick up. “show them you’re mine.”
it had been two weeks since the library incident, and you were absolutely needy for chishiya shuntaro. your pussy ached every time you seen his face around campus, as if it was made for him. your avoidance didn’t help, but instead made everything worse; especially since you watched him every time he livestreamed as k1ng0fd1am0nds. eventually, he cornered you in the dorms the same way he did in the library. one thing led to another until you were yet again underneath the beautiful man that was chishiya.
‘friends with benefits’ was what he’d call the situationship that lasted up to graduation. it was a wonderful experience, to say the least. chishiya was a very selfless person in bed and always made sure you got off multiple times before he did. you even gave in to his requests to perform with him on his cam streams. it was an anxiety inducing situation, considering nearly the whole school found out. it was the talk of the town for an entire two weeks, with some teachers even giving you a side eye. by the time everything went back to normal, graduation was nearing closer and you could see the finish line.
being done with chishiya was bittersweet. on one hand, you could finally be free of his grasp and actually try to find a real relationship. on the other, you knew you’d miss him. he was genuinely a fun person to be around whenever you weren’t at school. chishiya knew how to crack a good joke. he would pay the tab no matter where you two went out to eat. he also did his best to calm your anxiety whenever you were studying; in some cases, giving you head or fingering you while asking questions and stopping whenever you got the answer wrong.
at the end of it all, he didn’t seem bothered. chishiya didn’t even say goodbye. his dorm was empty and cleared out before you could get the chance to wish him well in his future. for some reason, it made your heart ache. you thought about it for a month straight trying to figure out what you might’ve done wrong. he never answered your texts or calls. he disappeared.
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“no.” you stated before closing your notes. chishiya scoffed in disbelief, and he must have thought you were joking with the smile that was still plastered on his face.
“oh, you’re serious.” chishiya’s mouth downturned into a frown as his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “i don’t get it. it’s just lunch, y/n.” you almost felt bad. almost. you continued to pack your things into your satchel bag and put it over your shoulder. looking at him in the eyes hurt too much, so you focused on the wall above his head to make it seem like you were staring at him.
“chishiya, if you want to fuck someone, go find some other girl for your cam show. we ended things three years ago, let’s keep it that way.” the words flowed out of your mouth before you could stop them. you could tell they stung by the way chishiya was looking at you with skepticism. the emotional poison he’d given you three years ago was finally out of your body and returned the original snake.
“y/n-” chishiya started, but was soon cut off by your own voice.
“goodbye.” and with that, you left the breakroom with a slam of the door.
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your heart was racing as you walked into work the next day, terrified that you’d be face to face with chishiya shuntaro again. you knew your words hurt, but you didn’t care. he hurt you. isn’t it fair?
guilt started to pour into your chest and made it feel heavier than usual. you did your best to shake it off on the way to the elevator, but it was to no avail. you wanted to apologize. you wanted to scream. you wanted to disappear, just like he did. all of these thoughts clouded your mind and you just wanted peace.
ding!
the doors to the elevators opened and hospital staff fled out as if they’d been in there for hours. you let out a deep breath, walking in after everyone cleared out and pressing the button for the lab. the doors shut quickly, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you clutched your satchel bag to your chest and rested your chin on the top. “i’m so fucking stupid…” you whispered to yourself while tears dared to well inside of your eyes.
ding!
the sound of the elevator brought you out of your thoughts and you leaned sideways on the elevator walls, facing a different direction than the entrance to hide the emotions that were slowly appearing on your face. “y/n?” chishiya’s voice felt like a burn to your ears. you closed your eyes and muttered a desperate ‘fuck’ under your breath. “are you okay?” his concerned voice was followed by the sound of the elevator creaking, causing you to look around with a somewhat panicked expression until the noise stopped and the elevator kept moving.
“yeah. yeah, i’m fine.” a sigh escaped your lungs as you leaned your head back onto the wall, ready to get this interaction over with.
“y/n, listen.” chishiya began, trying his best to speak before you could intervene. however, you weren’t about to let that happen.
“i don’t want to listen, chishiya.” you opened your eyes and positioned your head to where you could look him dead in the eyes. your gaze was nearly piercing his skull with every second you looked at him. “you disappeared, why can’t i disappear? why-” your voice became shakier with each word. you took an extensive inhale before letting it out and continuing. “why do i have to feel guilty for expressing my feelings in the breakroom yesterday? why do i want to apologize to you when you were the one who left me!” the tears that had left you returned at full force, dripping down your cheeks like a small waterfall in a forest.
the creaking noise of the elevator had gotten louder, but your frustrations drowned out every sound except the words coming out of your mouth. chishiya was staring sorrowfully at you, as if his own heart was breaking listening to you. his face was the least of your concerns as the elevator came to a halt. both of you grabbed onto the railings placed on either wall of the enclosed space, a thud bringing you both out of the current conversation. an automated voice rang through the elevator speakers, replacing the jingles that were playing prior to the sudden stop.
“please hold tight. assistance is on the way. do not panic.”
“jesus fucking christ.” you said with nothing but exhaustion and irritation. your head leaned against the wall again with a thump. this is not where you expected to be when you played the day’s events in your head this morning. “just my luck…” you mumbled, opening your eyes only to roll them.
“y/n, i didn’t want to do that.” chishiya started the conversation back up, walking closer to you in order to get you to look in his direction. you tried to back up, only flushing yourself further into the wall, as you stared him down. he stopped in his tracks. his body was clad in light blue scrubs and a white doctor’s coat. his hands came up and adjusted the lanyard and stethoscope around his neck out of what you presumed was anxiety. “do you want the honest answer, or do you want to keep going on hating me with no answer to why i disappeared?” chishiya quizzed, crossing his arms the same way he did when he was in college. his shoulder length hair was meticulously placed into a ponytail with only his bangs left out to frame his face.
you stared at him, waiting for him to continue talking instead of cooperating with a nod. chishiya inched closer, standing next to you against the wall so that you both were facing the elevator doors. he let out a profound sigh and began again. “i knew that i had feelings from you after the first time in the library, even before that, i knew.” he confessed, leaning his head against the wall as if to mimick you. your head turned to watch him as he spoke. “i didn’t want to accept it. i thought that i could keep you at a distance but everything kept telling me to go to you. i’d see you in the cafeteria and wave. you always avoided me, so i never even had the chance to tell you how i felt.” chishiya’s voice was lower now, almost as if he was embarrassed. “when i finally got you alone, we had sex. it was wonderful, don’t get me wrong.” he laughed to himself, causing you to chortle. the sentence almost made you blush, but it felt so natural to hear him talk like this. “anyways, i didn’t think that it would be the best impression if i asked you out after that. even when we were friends with benefits,” chishiya put air quotes around friends with benefits, making you stifle a laugh. “i didn’t want to ask you out. why?” he shook his head, strands of his bangs moving with him. “i have no idea. it would’ve been perfect. but part of me didn’t feel good enough. you deserved better. a clean slate of a relationship where it starts out as a relationship, not a fuck in the library. so i left.”
the end of his explanation came far too soon. you sat in silence, staring at his face that was focused on the elevator flooring. you wanted to feel guilty, but you didn’t. you had no reason to apologize since your feelings were valid and justified in this situation. his explanation was not an excuse. but… “i forgive you.”
the words were like an alarm to his ears, making him perk his head up and look at you. chishiya’s expression was that of a puppy you just asked to go for a walk. “what?” he questioned as if the words didn’t register into his brain.
“i forgive you.” you stated calmly with a profound sigh. “i understand that it might’ve been hard to come to terms with your feelings, so you did what you knew how to do. you closed yourself off and left. so, i forgive you.”
you both stood in the elevator for what seemed like an eternity of silence. the only sound present was a drowned out beeping noise from the elevator’s alarm system. it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, nor was it awkward. you couldn’t help but feel as if you both were healing from the past wounds with each other's presence.
“so, y/n...” chishiya said with a cracked voice before clearing his throat. it made you chuckle, as an unconfident chishiya wasn’t exactly usual. “would you like to go on a date with me?” his eyes veered over to yours and you retained the smile from your previous chuckle, nodding your head slowly.
“yeah, chishiya. i would.”
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