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ohproserpine · 3 months

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ii. deer dolly

part i | part ii | more | ao3

tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, human! possibly ooc! alastor so he's a bit more "tame" here, unsettling & obsessive behavior, jealousy, possessiveness, written before episode 7; may become inaccurate, unwanted advances (not by alastor), murder, graphic descriptions of injuries

As the days unfolded into weeks, Alastor remained true to his word. A routine soon formed between the two of you: he would make regular visits to the speakeasy, engage in polite conversations with Mimzy, and take his usual seat to enjoy your performance.

In time, Alastor's interactions with you grew more intimate. And one night, following the success of one of your busiest night and biggest show, he surprised you with a beautiful necklace. Pulling you into your dressing room, Alastor asked for permission to formally court you. Without hesitation, you agreed, and in a burst of affection, proceeded to kiss him within an inch of your life.

Since then, Alastor had begun to take you on dates outside the speakeasy. He whisked you away to quaint diners, lively jazz joints, and even introduced you to his mother—a sweet woman who welcomed you with open arms.

Throughout your time together, not a single one of your performances escaped Alastor'. Why would they? For him, your shows were the very essence of color in his otherwise dull and monotonous existence. His devotion to you almost mirrored religious fervor as he attended each of your shows like an impassioned disciple in the dimly lit speakeasy pews.

Your voice became a spell, luring Alastor like a foolish sailor drawn to a siren's call. In those moments, the world faded away, and he followed the melody with an irresistible pull, captivated by thoughts of you, you, you.

Only you.

Tonight, however, was anything but ordinary.

Alastor, following his usual routine, occupied his customary spot at the pub, savoring his whiskey with slow sips from his glass. However, the comforting rhythm of the night, which he had grown used to, was broken when the band screeched to a halt, the shrill notes of the violin cutting through the air. Immediately, the pub erupted in a chorus of boos and shouts.

Alastor blinked, his smile turning strained as he noticed a man stumble onto the stage. It was clear that he was intoxicated, moving about as gracefully as a headless chicken, as he made his way towards you, nearly knocking you off your feet.

Noticing the commotion, Mimzy clicked her tongue, slammed her drink onto the counter, and swiftly rose to her feet. She rushed to the stage, the glitters on her vibrant dress catching the dim lights of the speakeasy.

“Why, I oughta—" she began to seethe, as she stomped towards the stage, finger wagging in the air. “That’s the fifth time this week, Giovanni!”

"Ah, Mimzy! Jus' wanted to surprise my sweetheart," Giovanni slurred, his thick accent muddled as he clumsily leaned into you, head tucking into your neck.

Snap.

Alastor felt a visceral reaction, something within him snapping as the glass in his hand cracked under the strain of his grip. The fractured crevices dug into his skin, and golden liquor seeped out, mixing with crimson red blood.

As a regular performer at this pub, your popularity was unquestionable, and Alastor was not entirely pleased with the attention you garnered from other men. If given the opportunity, he would have you whisked away from this place. In his eyes, your voice was too lovely for a place like this. Your talent deserved a grander stage than the confines of this tacky establishment.

“Ahah,” you smiled awkwardly, shuffling away and shrugging the man's arms off of you. “Not your sweetheart, Giovanni…”

"Are you not happy to see me, carina?" Giovanni’s voice dropped to a whisper, his hand dropping to grip you by the waist. He leaned his face in closer, and you cringed. The man's breath reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were a bloodshot red. “Come on~ I came all the way to see you.”

“Ya' can go see and do whatevah the fuck you want with her after the show!” Mimzy scowled, stomping her heels onto the wooden flooring. “Can't have a moment of peace in here. Someone get him off my stage!”

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want!" Giovanni retorted, his anger bubbling over as he lashed out, kicking the microphone stand in Mimzy's direction. She barely dodged in time, the crash of the mic hitting the floor drowned out by the screeching feedback.

"Please. Just go," you pleaded, your patience wearing thin. "Why? Why do you always have to make a scene?"

"Ay, carina, don't get bratty with me. Let's talk in the back," Giovanni insisted, his grip on your shoulders tightening as he attempted to pull you off the stage. But before he could, Mimzy's guards intervened, forcefully yanking him away.

"Hey! Get ya' hands off'a me!"

Turning around, you rushed to get off the stage, but Giovanni somehow managed to break free and extended his hand, trying to grab onto you. Panic welled up within you as his hand reached out, but relief followed when he was abruptly stopped by none other than Alastor.

"Now, now," Alastor's voice had a lilt as he held onto Giovanni's wrist, but the venom woven into each word was unmistakable. His ever-present smile stretched wide, serving as a clear warning. "Causing a commotion isn't the best way to impress a lady."

"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wring his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled and adjusted his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.

"This ain't none of ya’ business. Let go’a me!" Giovanni scowled, attempting to wriggle his hand out of the brunette's iron grip. Alastor merely chuckled, adjusting his glasses with his free hand, the unsettling grin still playing on his lips throughout the exchange.

"Ha ha! Kind sir, when someone disrupts a delightful performance, it becomes everyone's business," Alastor laughed, the sound of it tinged with sarcasm.

"But I must commend you. My, that impromptu performance of yours was quite remarkable; you truly made a wonderful spectacle of yourself!" Alastor's grin widened, his mocking tone drawing out laughter from the crowd.

Then, Alastor bent down to meet Giovanni face to face, his amusement fading.

“Though I think you've overstayed your welcome, no?” Alastor's grip tightened around Giovanni's wrist, the pressure leaving bruises in its wake, hues of purple, green, and blue blossoming beneath the skin.

Alastor's grin turned sharp. "You will leave. Now."

"F-Fuck are you gonna do if I don’t, aye?" Giovanni spat, attempting to maintain a façade of bravado despite the pain. He tore his hand away from Alastor's grip, cradling his wrist. "Ya' think you can tell me what to fucking do?!"

"Hmm. I would at least advise you to salvage whatever dignity you have left and leave. If you had even a dust of intelligence in that hollow head of yours, that would have been the first thing you'd have done," Alastor chuckled.

“Damn right. Ya ain't got no fuckin place in my establishment,” Mimzy scowled, snapping her fingers and gesturing towards the men surrounding Giovanni. “Take him away, boys!”

As Mimzy’s goons surrounded him again, Giovanni sneered, "This ain't over."

"Oh, my dear pal, I assure you, it is very much over. The lady has made her wishes very clear," Alastor grinned.

With a final snarl, Giovanni was forcibly led away from the scene, his protests fading into the background as Mimzy's guards escorted him out. Mimzy wasted no time, bustling backstage and barking orders to her staff to clean up and prepare the stage once more.

Alastor's charismatic facade returned as he turned to you, though a glint of irritation lingered in his eyes. "Apologies you had to see that, cher. Let's hope the rest of the evening proceeds much more smoothly."

"I hope so." With a sigh, your gaze shifted downward, and you spotted his injured hands. The glass he had broken earlier had left wounds all over his calloused palms — not deep, but enough to draw blood.

Concern etched across your face, and you gently touched Alastor's hands. The radio host, accustomed to your touch by now, allowed you to inspect the damage.

"You're hurt," you pointed out, caressing his skin.

Alastor met your gaze with a reassuring smile. "Ah, this is just a trifle. A mere inconvenience, I assure you! My, I've endured far worse during hunting, darling! This is hardly worth mentioning."

"But—" you began, only to be interrupted by his finger pushing against your red lips.

"Worry not, cher. I'll take care of it. There's no need to play nurse," he spoke with finality, as if this was a matter not open to further argument.

"Alright," You managed a small smile. "I am really sorry things turned out this way, Al. I didn't know Giovanni was going to show up again. He's always been like that for as long as I can remember. I told him to stop but he never does."

"No need for apologies. None of this fault is on you, darling. Though it does add a touch of excitement to otherwise mundane affairs, doesn't it?" Alastor chuckled heartily, though you sensed there was a bitter undertone to his laugh.

"Excitement? That man is a shitshow just waiting to happen," Mimzy returned and walked up to both of you, rolling her eyes. "And I thought I got rid of him for good..."

Suddenly, she leaned in with cosmetics in hand, deftly swiping lipstick across your lips and delicately brushing blush on your face. "Now come on, dollface, let's get you back to that stage."

You realize you're still on shift, but the thought of performing feels nearly impossible at the moment, especially with all this lingering adrenaline in your system. Admittedly, you're a bit shaken up, and all you want is to curl up by Alastor's side and savor the night with a drink in hand.

"Oh, Mimzy…I'm not sure I can really perform right now, love. I feel…" you slowly trailed off, faltering under the weight of Mimzy's hardened gaze.

The blonde cooed out your name, her fingers gently wrapping around your arm, soothingly rubbing it up and down. "Dollface, you're not here to question; you're here to perform! Alastor here has been so kind to get rid of your little problem. Now, let's get back up on that stage and do what you're good at."

"Pardon?" Alastor snapped with a raised brow, his usually jovial tone replaced by a sharper edge. "Well, I don't mind in the least. In fact, I rather enjoyed putting that simpleton in his place. I'm sure your patrons can afford to wait, can't they? This poor dear is still shaking in her heels!"

But you intervened, mustering a smile and smoothing down the wrinkles on your dress while nervously tending to your hair. "Oh no, Al, it's alright. Mimzy's right. I can't just let one man ruin my entire night."

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, taking a moment to compose before adding, "Besides, the show must go on, right?"

Alastor paused, his eyes narrowing as he studied your nervous tics. The radio host silently appraised your form for a few more seconds before eventually giving in. "Hmm, very well. If that's what you wish."

"Thank you, Al," you whispered with a smile, tilting your head up to press a kiss against his cheek. Your lipstick had left an imprint on his bronze skin, but he made no move to wipe it off.

With a chuckle, Alastor leaned back into you and returned the gesture warmly.

"I'll take care of everything, doll," he whispered, voice low, before pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "He won't ever bother you again."

Confused, you blinked up at him with those bright eyes he loved so much. "How do you plan to do that, Al?" you asked, but he ignored you, staring at you with that unsettling look in his eyes again.

Alastor suddenly raised your hand to his lips, brushing the knuckles with gentle pecks, causing your mind to blank and cheeks to go aflame.

Tapping her foot impatiently, Mimzy's irritation grew as the display of affection lingered longer than she deemed appropriate. With a swift swat of her hand against the man's shoulder, she hissed at him. "That's enough outta you!"

Alastor smirked to himself and began walking back, seemingly satisfied with the subtle disturbance he had caused. He was such a bastard, but he was yours.

With a shake of your head and a smitten blush gracing your cheeks, you returned to the stage. The blinding spotlight enveloped you as Mimzy tossed the microphone back into your waiting hands.

Meanwhile, Alastor reclined in his seat at the booth, his gaze fixed intently on you as you resumed your performance. The audience, having brushed off the brief interruption, eagerly redirected their focus to you.

Rabbit, rabbit! Won't you run away? Don't give the farmer all his fun today~ He'll get by without his rabbit pie. So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run!

As you neared the end of the song, Alastor joined the crowd's applause, rhythmically snapping his fingers together.

Wonderful, as always.

Snap.

The sudden, jarring sound shattered the stillness of the forest, followed by a shrill scream that seemed to shake the trees. Giovanni's hands instinctively shot down to his ankle, where his bone had twisted in a gruesome sight that sent bile rushing to his throat. However, he had no time to inspect the damages as a rustling bush caught his attention. Desperately, the man began crawling on the ground, doing his best to move farther away, dragging mud and dirt all over his body.

"Don't give the farmer his fun. Fun. Fun," emerging from thick shrubs, Alastor sang lowly as he continued his slow advance, relishing in the fear that emanated from his prey. He raised his hand, fingers idly tracing over the red mark on your lips, and if he focused hard enough, he could still feel the burn of your affections. "He'll get by without his rabbit pie."

The dense forest around them seemed to close in, casting eerie shadows as Alastor's menacing silhouette moved closer. Giovanni, now gasping for breath, cast terrified glances over his shoulder, desperately searching for an escape route.

"So run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run," Alastor continued to trail after the man, his axe slung over his strong shoulders, a sinister grin etched on his lips.

Ah, it had been so long since he last pursued larger prey, opting for smaller catches like rabbits and squirrels lately. This, however, was a different kind of pursuit, and the thrill was delicious.

“It's rather unsavory to disrupt a live performance,” Alastor mused, gripping his axe and running his bandaged palm along the side of the blade. "Oh, the misery! Each performance interrupted, a masterpiece marred!"

“Though I suppose you redeemed yourself with your own impromptu circus show,” Alastor snickered, reaching down and seizing Giovanni’s sprained ankle, dragging the screaming man back toward him.

"Good show!" The radio host grinned as he pressed his feet against Giovanni's back to prevent him from escaping. Alastor raised the axe high, the glint of the blade reflecting the crazed gleam in his eyes.

"Now, let's see how this act ends."

With a practiced swing, he brought the blade down, chunks of flesh and blood spraying onto his clothing and skin from the impact. Alastor laughed as the light gradually faded from the man's eyes, his once-struggling arms and legs now falling limp.

“What a show!”

#sephiewrites #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor imagine #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x you #hazbin x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor

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seraphdreams · 3 months

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SMILE, YOU'RE ON CAMERA. | YUUTA OKKOTSU.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. when taking care of your university finances proves troublesome, the universe grants you your very own savior. but it’s gonna cost you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, college au!yuuta / bimbo reader (obvi), filming, lots of porn references… a lot, virginity loss, praise, oral n fingering, slight obsession, pussydrunk yuuta, unprotected love making, yuuta’s rich and unsettling. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 5.3k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! omg, yuuta? i meant to have this out a few weeks ago but got caught in a little writing slump :( nevertheless, here’s to a new year and a new fic! yuuta’s been slowly creeping his way up my favs list , tehe !! as always, please reblog / comment if you enjoyed this , it’ll fill me with joy. thank u ♡

you’re a pornstar.

albeit, an amateur one with heaps to learn regarding the ruthless industry, but the weight still stands.

the details in which you came to the jarring conclusion were muddled with the convoluted steps that it took for you to get there, murky in your bubblegum-filled mind. all you knew was that yuuta okkotsu was a force, a gentle one, to be reckoned with.

it must’ve played out once you returned to your campus dorm beyond the dusk of midnight, under an unmitigating fatigue from the twelve hour waitressing shift just prior. through abhorrent patrons and the lack of a spendable paycheck, the excruciatingly long night barely made you enough money to even think about buying those dollish pumps you’ve been yearning for. how cruel.

in between working and haphazardly handing your earnings over to university fees and textbooks, you just couldn’t seem to make ends meet.

you would curse the day you took it upon yourself to branch away financially from your parents under the guise of growing up, since now it’d be a blessing to have even a cellphone bill paid off. whatever the issue seemed to be, lady luck was truly never bothered enough to be on your side.

fortunately for you, though, it was that same arduous night, you had been huddled against your stuffed animals in bed, mindlessly scrolling through the various social media apps on your phone; switching from sites like instagram and twitter to youtube then right back to instagram all over again, only to be met with an offer dusted in pink glitter that caught your eye as if it were made for you.

“stars needed — will pay upfront.”

it was a shoddy story post, one that could be clicked past and forgotten forever — yet, a brisk reminder of your situation in the form of borrowed, used textbooks with pages missing or vandalized, and today’s horoscope that said to take risks; you did exactly that, aiming a swipe up that would ultimately rid you of the worries of yesterday.

there were no reasons as to why you couldn’t be a star. certainly, you had the face for it, and you were told by multiple charmers that you were beyond beguiling to get anything you could ever ask for. what dismay could possibly unfold from contacting .. yuuta okkotsu .. about his offer?

hm, that’s funny. the name rang familiarity as it seeded in your mind.

must be one of yuuji’s friends.

itadori yuuji, your best friend of three years now. out of all the time you’d spent together, you came to realize that he could get along with anyone, despite their true intentions. he spoke highly of his friends as well, which earned him a sacred spot in your heart that couldn’t be replaced by anyone.

itadori had briefly mentioned in a ramen-fueled frenzy that one of his peers were “so insanely talented” and that you’d definitely get on with him. but when you asked for validity on that vague claim, all yuuji seemed to respond with was a mere “just meet him, you’ll see.”

from your recollection, the acquaintance he was boasting about, as if it was his own personal victory, was none other than your yuuta okkotsu. he was meek, stuck to a close-knit friend group consisting of maki and toge from your physics class, and the one time you ever spoke to him was to ask about yuuji’s whereabouts, to which he responded that he went back to his dorm after gojo-sensei’s lecture.

he seemed, normal. average, even. that surely had to be the case since your memory was hazy on his being otherwise.

it was true, though, yuuta was gifted. in a way that transcended words, skillful towards visual aesthetics, and careful with the craft. he would spend most of his freetime fumbling with a camera or recording the works of the mundane. overtly, he’d grown such a strong passion in the field of videography in hopes to capture the reality of humanity, the authenticity within intimacy — what could he possibly need a “star” for?

shadiness aside, you were in a tough spot, willing to do whatever to free yourself from the financial burden that was jujutsu technical university. with a swift swipe in tandem with the soft tapping of the pads of your thumbs on the keyboard, you were taking yuuta up on his offer.

within seconds, he responded back with his address and an appropriate meet-up date to start the project.

if only you were aware of how drastically your life would change from here on out.

a cluster of days had passed since you last got into contact with yuuta. he had told you to meet him at his place, claiming it would be more efficient than traveling to an unnamed destination with pounds of heavy photography equipment.

where you stood currently, was in front of the bare oak of his front door, hand wrapped in a loose fist as you knocked gently on the wood. a quick moment had passed by before you took initiative to raise your fist and knock once more. before your touch could meet the wood, a muffled “coming!” chimed beyond the door. from what you had heard on the other side; the scuttling behind the door and jingle of the lock, yuuta had opened the door soon after.

with his hand rubbing away the goosebumps that stood at the back of his neck, he beamed. cordially, warmly.

“you’re actually here. hi,”

upon first glance, yuuta had a distinct look. he stood tall, not tall enough to matter or incite intimidation, and although he wore a black button-up (a bit formal for an occasion as casual as today), his lean build shone through under the thin fabric, ripples of veins dancing up his forearms. what you couldn’t miss, however, were the grey eyebags under his emotionless navy orbs, as if he’d forgone weeks of sleep.

yuuta okkotsu was unsettling.

“hi,” your voice sounded as a sweet croon, dulcet enough that you could barely hear it yourself as it escaped in a breathy breeze. his smile grew softer in response, that monotonous gaze in his eyes fizzling away into something of serenity. “come in, please,” yuuta held the door open wider for you to tread past, caught up in observing the bunch of fabric that hugged tightly around your ass, then closed it gently behind you once you stepped completely inside. he silently cursed at himself for ogling — he truly didn’t mean to stare. you’re just a lot prettier up close. “i was just getting set up. you can have a seat if you’d like.”

as you’d expect from any guy your age, his place wasn’t much to gaze at, nor did it have much personality. in a corner to your right was a houseplant, that of the fern variety, and a few steps deeper into the abode was the living room, where yuuta resumed his fumbling with the transfiguration of his tripod.

you decided to sit on the couch across from him, taking in the bleak sight of his home. you would have almost believed it was unlived in had it not been for the scattered midterm review papers decorating his coffee table. it was obvious he had money from the endless rows of space that surrounded the two of you, although a candle or something would be nice.

he peered away from his tripod to look through the viewfinder of his camera, ensuring that the lens was functioning properly. he grew pleased to see the image of you distracted in fiddling with your thumbs reflected back at him. “are you nervous?” his gaze fell upon you through his own eyes, a concerned expression harboring his features.

you were pulled out of your muse of unfamiliarity to direct your attention to the sound of his mild voice, returning a smile to his that eased the worriment trapped behind dull, blue eyes. “n-not really, i don’t think.”

his lips curled up once more at that, in fact there wasn’t a time so far that you hadn’t noticed him without his signature smile. “here, let me help with that,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping away at the screen before ultimately turning it back off and settling it back into its place in his pocket.

your phone vibrated beside you, screen lighting up with a bold alert.

[YUUTA OKKOTSU SENT $1000]

before you had a chance to even process the significance of the notification, he started back up,

“i hope i got the right information, wouldn’t want your hard work to get in the wrong hands.” the tilt of his head in tandem with a chuckle resonated sheepishly, and he returned to watch you through his camera lens.

he was right. the money did soothe your nerves.

“i’ve barely done anything yet.” a ditzy giggle followed soon after your sentence, a sound that yuuta couldn’t possibly ignore. you were already starting to pull at his heartstrings.

“and you’ve done it so perfectly,” his praise left you flustered in that moment and you bit down softly on your lower lip to keep your smile at bay. “thank you, yuuta.”

you would’ve never guessed that your introverted classmate had enough experience in him to be such a flirt, or have your cheeks heating up with fervid affection, no less. but maybe yuuta was just like that; maybe this had been natural.

“no, thank you.” his thumb hovered over the record button just as his eyes met your gaze over the brim of the camera. “would you like to start now?”

he took the nod of your head as confirmation to press the record button, finally getting started with the project.

you blinked blankly at him as he tilted his head and flashed a warmhearted grin. “how old are you?” was his first question. he had asked while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. as he did so, you took notice of the silver ring donned around his finger.

he couldn’t have been married, no?

keeping your answer as vague as possible for the sake of matching his comforting warmth, you responded, “twenty-something.” he let out a satisfied huff of air as he nodded and moved onto his next query.

“and what’s your major?”

with the question barely having enough time to linger in the suggestively tense air, he added, “you’re very beautiful, by the way. do you mind taking your dress off for me?”

as much as it should’ve alarmed you, you were swayed by his toothachingly inviting timbre, its gentleness pulling compliancy from you in a matter of a few mere words. you only shook your head, forgoing the short piece of fabric that clung to each curve and dip of your body while your nipples hardened under the glacial, artificial breeze of his home. once the silk pooled at your hips, that, along with your panties were dropped onto the floor, leaving you bare and vulnerable under the camera — and yuuta’s watchful eye.

he swallowed thickly at the sight, remaining as respectful as he could despite the monster growing in his pants; his eyes locked right back onto yours as if he’d get striked down for moving them even a millimeter south. “are you a virgin?” he queried, opting to move his hand from awkwardly at his side to fidgeting with the button at his shirt, ultimately undoing it and revealing another inch of skin at his heated chest.

from the nature of what you had signed yourself up for, you were hesitant to answer his question. of course you needed experience to be a star, and with you lacking the preconceived ability, you could kiss your $1000 goodbye..

yet he looked at you with an expectant gaze. no traces of malice in his eyes or frustration from your quick witted silence, but merely, with patience. and in that moment you couldn’t find it within yourself to lie.

“i am,” out of shame, you curled in on yourself, hoping that the sofa would engulf you, and your feelings, crossing your arms over your bare chest as if it’d create a wall of privacy behind your own humiliation. “is that okay?”

yuuta’s being only grew warmer at the response, you figured he’d be hot to the touch by now, from searing pleasure or unshakeable cordiality, you wouldn’t know. “yeah, that’s okay,” it came out breathier than he would’ve liked, a telltale sign of his aching desire. “that’s more than okay.”

truth be told, he had never met anyone as enchanting as you. you looked up at him with such trust in your eyes that it daunted him — fear that the assurance he wielded from you would shatter beneath him, and he’d be drowning. in a sea of his own wistfulness. now that he had you, he couldn’t let you go.

you were on to make a breathtaking star.

now feeling less coy than before, you relaxed your head into the palm of yuuta’s hand. you hadn’t noticed how long he’d been stroking at your cheek, or when he closed the vexing proximity between the two of you, all that mattered in that moment was the roll of his gentle vocables flowing through your ears and the thumb of his that graciously caressed your cheek.

you came to realize that he was much more handsome this way as your eyes toured his own, then down to the sliver of sweat-sheened skin peeking from underneath the black veil of his shirt, then down to his…

he’s so fucking hard.

confined against his slacks was his cock that leaked an ample amount even while it was untouched. you could make out its silhouette, something girthy, perhaps heavy, but nothing like you’d expect from yuuta. uncharacteristically huge.

“yuuta.” you whispered, mainly to yourself, as your mouth began to water at the sight, and his cheeks dusted pink once he realized what you were fixated upon.

“do you wanna,” he started up but faltered soon after when your lidded gaze flitted back up towards his. never had he felt so weak before, it was as if you’d casted a spell on him. “do you maybe want to—” he paused to avert his own gaze and embarrassment. “—put it in your mouth?”

he could’ve sworn he heard the increase of his heartbeat in his ears when you crinkled your brows, pretty face forming into an even prettier pout.

“but i’ve never—”

he stopped you before you could start, interjecting his own voice of reassurance.

“it’s okay. i’ll guide you,” taking his camera off its stand and moving the rest of the configuration elsewhere, he held it in one hand to better capture the scene unfolding before him. “just try your best for me, okay?”

“okay.” when he returned your concern with a small smile, you took it upon yourself to undo the arrangement of his pants, carefully hooking your finger into the elastic waistband of his briefs and pulling down just enough for his length to spring free.

for what felt like minutes, you marveled at his sheer size, wondering how anyone of his nature could possibly be hiding something like that. it curved upwards with a prominent vein or two running up the underside while it continued to leak, so much so, that you had to collect it all at the tip with your finger.

the tip? flushed the prettiest pink you’d ever witnessed and was as bulbous as it was mushroomed, you knew you’d have a bit of difficulty trying to fit into your mouth. it seemed to twitch under the fanning of your breath to which yuuta let out a whine of pure impatience.

“can i..?” your words trailed off when you involuntarily found yourself pressing chaste kisses along the length of his cock until they met with his sticky tip; a recreated scene from the various porn videos you’d seen. the sensation sent a jolt of palpable pleasure through his being, yuuta’s dark hair curtaining over his eyes while he made a damn good attempt at silencing his moans, with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip.

your eyes kept watch at his wavering expression while you wrapped your hand at the base of his length and began to pump slowly, yet another thing you had learned through the fascinating world of porn.

“suck it,” it was clear to you that yuuta had grown desirously impatient from your teasing, looking down at you with a hint of hunger in his beautiful orbs. “please?”

you took his words as an incentive to finally give him what he’s been leaking for, wrapping gloss-sheened lips around the thick inches of his tip, accommodating for the stretch with a dulcet whine that reverberated deeply within him. had you not been caught up in building the gradual bob of your head, he would’ve kissed you, left you with smeared lips and a tongue that ached for only him upon seeing the sinful sight of innocent eyes fixated on his own. you’re beautiful. truly, to die for.

caught all on tape to be watched over and over again.

at the bliss, yuuta’s lip parted open, alotting for a slur of groans turned whimpers to tumble past. “you- you’re already doing, so good.” he praises, the words floating on his breath. his free hand finds itself back at your face, thumbing the warmth of your hallowed cheek while he captured the moment behind his lens. once you came to a comfortable rhythm, you couldn’t stop yourself from dipping your fingers between your thighs to ease the evergrowing ache in your core. in fact, you’d been like this since the moment yuuta spoke a word to you, lightheaded and malleable — what he’s beginning to love most about you.

your digits collected slick at your entrance, the immeasurable amount of essence that you’d pool providing ample leeway for you to sink three fingers inside, pumping at the same rhythm in which you’re sucking yuuta. soft fingertips curling against your gummy walls weren’t enough, though, and when he had caught notice of your weakening resolve, his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth.

“sorry, ‘m sorry,” he began, with a choked moan. “just- so close, so fucking close. c-can you take me in deeper?”

the hum of assurance that sounded from you sent vibrations coursing through his cock, from tip to base. had you not been preoccupied with chasing your own high, you would’ve missed the pitchy moan he let out just after. with your palm now pressed up against your clit while you worked in tandem to pleasure the nub and your greedy hole, you attempted to swallow another stubborn inch of him.

simultaneous with the bobbing of your head, he matched your pace, abdomen flexing when the white-hot pleasure became too much and he could feel it in his ears. he wanted so badly to throw his head back, completely lose himself in bliss, but he had a job to do. he wouldn’t dare let the sight of your glassy lidded eyes and glossy lips struggling to wrap themselves around the stretch of his dick go unfilmed, unseen.

as his tip continued to prod the back of your throat and your fingers aided you in relieving the discomfort from your cunt, you found yourself just dangling off the dangerous edge of your release, strokes away from making a mess — and yuuta did too.

it wasn’t long until his head started spinning, legs got weaker, and his core coiled tighter; all the signs of a mindblowing orgasm, and blew his mind, you did. “baby- y/n, if you keep doing that- i might cum.” what he was referring to was the way you fondled his balls in the warmth of your soft hands, yet another trick you had learned from porn. “i don’t wanna cum in your mouth but if you—,”

a jumbled slew of curses flowed from his lips as he did the inevitable, shot his load deep down your throat, gently thrusting his cock in shallow strokes to jettison every last remaining drop. the taste on your tongue was nothing like you’d be warned of before. yuuta wasn’t bitter, he went down easy.

hell, you’d use his cum as a condiment for desserts if you could.

in a matter of moments, your own high had washed over you like cold water over a heated body, much needed and refreshing. once he hesitantly pulled out from the heat of your mouth, cock still hard and twitching for more, he gently pushed back strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“can i see?”

you held out your cream-slickened fingers, sopping with your juices as yuuta proceeded to catch how they dripped on camera. he then took your palm, with the cadence of a knight kissing the back of a princess’s hand, and slipped the soiled digits into his mouth. his tongue lavved around your index and middle fingers while he hummed satisfactorily at your taste. “you’re just as sweet as i imagined.” he smiled, finding amusement in your post-orgasmic, dazed state.

“do you do this with a lot of other girls, yuuta?” you queried, taking the time to scan your eyes over his face. it was as if he seemed to get more attractive as your time with him went on. he tilted his head slightly, finding your question endearing. “you’re my first, actually.” yuuta responded softly, as if his normal speaking voice would be too heavy on your delicate ears.

you jumped at the chance to tease him as he did you, placing your thumb back over the slit of his hard-on and lightly rubbing; which resonated within yuuta as a tonal mewl. a little smile pulled at your lips when you got your perfect reaction. “can you be my first?”

“i’d love to be,” he took your request with unadulterated honor as if he’d been tasked by the deities above to serve you. “just- just lay back for me. i promise i’ll take good care of you.”

and that you did; conforming to his call of request with such compliance it made his heart swell. you had positioned your body to rest languidly against the seat of the sofa, shaky legs hesitant to spread fully while your hand roamed up your sternum to find solace in kneading your tits.

he couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked, laid out for him as such. how had he been so lucky to be the only one to have the opportunity to marvel at the scene? with a steady hand, he faintly trails his hand up the expanse of your inner thigh, a silent beckon for you to open your legs wider. involuntarily so, your body had accepted his presence and allowed for the spreading of your thighs.

what you’d come to notice with yuuta was that he was watchful, observant. he seemed to pick up on every detail, even the minuscule bits that were most likely to fly over anyone else’s head, had been taken into account. it’s probably why he’s immensely proficient at what he does. not once had he allowed himself to miss the labored heaving of your chest, or the sheen of sweat thinly coating your body — the twitching of your clit when he stroked featherlight touches at the nub. he couldn’t call himself a true cameraman then.

his fingers had collected remnants of your previous orgasm before they worked in tandem, both middle and ring, to prod at your sensitive hole, slowly sinking themselves in. it was almost embarrassing how quickly your greedy cunt swallowed him in, as if it’d been waiting for his touch for years now. “y-yuuta, ‘m still sensitive.” you crooned in response to his digits exploring your cavern, plush walls gripping him with such tautness that he’d found it difficult to even curl his fingers.

his own mind spun (and cock leaked) at the thought of that same warmth around his length, and when you called his name, all he could think about was how pretty you’d sound moaning it. he wouldn’t mind if you were sonorous, if the neighbors would hear, if inumaki who lived downstairs would come knocking with a mouthful of complaints, if the whole world knew his name; because in that moment, yuuta okkotsu was yours.

yuuta okkotsu was in love.

after some shallow pumping, enough to have your legs attempting to enclose around his arm, yuuta had pulled his digits out and replaced the lost sensation with the fat tip of his cock stroking your slit up and down.

“i’m gonna put it in, okay? if you want me to stop, tell me. if i'm going too fast or slow, let me know.”

he perused your face for a hint of an answer, seemingly nothing going on behind your vacant, large eyes. your initial response was curt, an ode to the simplistic nature of your mind. “mhm.”

how endearing you were to him, just a unadorned reaction weakening his being, causing his heart to figuratively crumble within its confines against his ribcage. he had searched for a heartier answer, something tangible to hold on to, because, lord knows how terrible he’d feel if he took your indication the wrong way. “can you be vocal for me, please?”

you nodded your head. “i’ll let you know, yuuta.”

with a carefulness that only came from the most benign of beings, he had sunken the first inch of himself into your awaiting heat.

he was paused when your hand dashed to his lower abdomen, futilely pressing against the skin.

“wait—” you huffed wantonly. “—‘s too big.”

his eyes wavered with concern, hidden under the veil of pure arousal. in yuuta’s case he had dreamed of a compliment as self fulfilling as yours, for his thoughts of being average were shattered upon first inch. “should i stop?”

you shook your head, reveling in the light of his attentivity towards you and your body. “no,” you moved your hand from his abdomen. “don’t stop.”

one of his arms rested beside your head, helping to prop him up over your body while he dropped his head down to watch the way your bodies connected. gradually, the sight of his length slowly sinking inside, stretching you out further and further until he was in to the hilt flooded his vision. yuuta had caught on to your labored gasps, merely growing harder from your honeyed voice like music to his ears.

he then lifted his head, strands of inky, out-of-place tresses falling over his face and partially covering the depth of lingering eyes, that lingered for a second too long, causing that shuddering sensation you had once felt when you first met him to reappear. he held his camcorder beside his face, an all too cheerful grin masked over his features. “i’m all in!”

creepy.

there was no doubt that you hadn’t felt full. he practically spilled over with how much girth he possessed and throbbed innately within your walls. the swell of your tummy from just how deep he was, was enough to tear away at his composure and drag his length back before driving his hips in at a force unrecognizable to him. the yelp you had let out from his eager thrust dwindled into a blissful moan. “sorry, so sorry.” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off the faultless assortment of breathtaking features that was your face, eyebrows creased together, parted lips and eyes squeezed closed as if you’d been focused solely on the pleasure he was giving you.

his next thrust stroked softer than its predecessor, having no remnants of eagerness but instead, the nuance of a man that’d been simply smitten.

the meticulousness of his ministrations coursed through your body wondrously, each push and pull lathered in lust, savored to be remembered for the rest of his time on earth. it was as if he’d known your body for years, knew every dip and fold, every swell and mast, aware of what exactly it took to leave your body hungry for his touches.

you’d grown comfortable in the pace at which he set, your mind hazing over each time the blunt tip grazed along your gspot. he peppered kisses along your jaw and down your sternum, the fanning of his warm breath against your chest doing the minimum in stiffening the peaks of your breasts. shootable footage forgotten, yuuta took your mound into his mouth, teeth gently rolling against your nipple which caused you to tighten around his cock in response, the sweetest mewl he’s ever heard from you tumbling from your throat.

“at least take me on a date first, yuuta..” the wittiness of your voice had earned a stifled smile from him, finding utmost admiration in the suggestion. he’ll be sure to take you up on your offer, just as you had done for him.

when you felt the familiar coil within you starting to build up once more, you dipped your hand down to rub at your clit in tandem with the increasing vigor of his strokes. the sensation was all too foreign to you, too pleasurable that you couldn’t keep your sounds at bay. “‘m so close, g-gonna cum!” you had warned, yuuta pulled away from your tit with a soft pop. he chose to rest his head at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, mindlessly chanting the words like a mantra.

“i love you, i love you,” his pace faltered, growing sloppier by the second. “love you, love you so much.”

intoxicated by your heat, your scent, just you being you, and being so perfect — yuuta was pussydrunk. incredibly so. never in his life had he ever felt as high as you made him. you were an angel, sent to him from heaven, to defile and mark.

quickly, your release surged through you in torrents of ecstasy, nothing that you’ve experienced before, coating yuuta’s cock in the glorious essence of you. “cumming!” you cry, to no avail particularly since yuuta wasn’t wholeheartedly aware of the situation at hand. his mind was clouded with you, just as you were full of him, wincing in the aftershocks of your fervent orgasm and convulsing around his length with need.

it wasn’t long before his own ununified thrusts came to a sudden close, signifying the warm spurts of cum painting your insides, filling you entirely to the brim and leaking down your ass from riding out his high.

“god, i love you.” he whined, pressing faint kisses to your neck, unable to peel himself away from your fervid body. coming to your senses, his words finally resonated for you. “we only just met.”

he pulled himself up, opting to look down at your flushed face with a vague hint of confusion on his face as he tilted his head. “have we?”

“we have.” you nodded.

to yuuta, he’s known you his whole life. you were the light of his existence, the fire in his heart. had he managed to confuse you with someone else? surely, that wasn’t the case.

once he pulled out of you, he made sure to capture the moment that you leaked his seed on film, but in that time, borrowed jealousy had filled his soul. he couldn’t share the tape as he had planned, no one else deserved to see you in the same way he did. no one.

he tucked himself back into his pants, leaving you bare and oozing for just one second to fetch a warm wet rag to clean you up with. when he came back, you noticed just how chipper he’d gotten, if that were even possible. “you were amazing,” he smiled, gently wiping your folds pristine. “i’m so grateful you came to me.” the smile you returned matched his own, “thank you, you were- really good too.”

he perked up, eyes moving from between your thighs to your face. “really?” and when you nodded to him, you could see the apparent relief flow within his being. “you know,” he started. “i’m very interested in you.”

you tilt your head, jutting your lips in a cute pout. “interested, how?”

the camcorder that now resided on his coffee table, unpresumebly documenting the scene on display was picked up by yuuta, and turned off. he grinned softly, eyes shutting from his ear to ear smile.

“may i take you on a date?”

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forbidden-sunlight · 2 days

Text

yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part two]

warnings: implied infidelity, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity, non consensual surveillance.

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption.

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Hey guys, and welcome to part two of my new original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa.

This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project and @impeakcharacterdesign for being my beta-reader for the final draft.

I definitely was not expecting such positive feedback on the first part in less than a week, so thank you all for reblogging, liking, and commenting your thoughts on it, they really made some of my more stressful days in the medical field a little brighter :)

Also, if the lofi vibes nor are the clothes written in here aren’t your thing, feel free to insert whatever is your preferred interior theme and fashion/clothing style.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy the drama being unfolded on the stage.

Part one

Yeo Jung-Hwa was unhappy with the series of events that had occurred at the office. Hyueng Mun-Hee had bursted into his office with tears streaming down her bright red face, sobbing about how she cannot stand being bullied by the team manager of her department any longer. Who was the team manager?

You. His fiancee. The woman he must marry. A promise between his father and yours that would be beneficial to everyone involved - everyone except him. Wasn’t he entitled to experience pure joy of being loved and in love? To be with someone who wasn’t tiresome and annoyed him all the time?

Meeting Hyeung Mun-Hee had felt like seeking the sky for the first time. She was a breath of fresh air to his stifling world. Hearing your most recent act of cruelty towards her had been the final straw. And like any self-respecting CEO, he texted the CFO to look into it before all hell had broken loose. He was receiving emails from the managers of all the other departments left and right, all with the same attachment. Botched up documents. And the one who had sent it was none other than Hyeung Mun-Hee.

But he didn’t believe it at first.

He truly thought it was another underhanded trick you had created to get Hyeung Mun-Hee fired because that’s exactly the sort of person you are to him; a dishonest, greedy, arrogant woman whose saving grace as a human being is an excellent work ethic. Once he had calmed his darling, drying her tears with his handkerchief, he marched into the Finance Department and demanded answers from you as soon as he got off of the phone with his panicked CFO. Instead of apologizing for what you did, you explained how Hyeung Mun-Hee made mistakes and you gave her a chance to fix them, but she did not correct them. She completed the required training. She knows how to calculate and make spreadsheets, so why is she pushing her work onto others?

More importantly, you fixed her mistakes and sent out the correct ones to the other departments. Everything has been resolved, but you wanted Hyeung Mun-Hee to attend the company’s financial seminars to ensure that this embarrassing incident does not happen again. As much as he despised you, every point you made was correct…especially after he retreated to his office and compared the budget allocations on his monitors; Hyeung Mun-Hee’s on the left and yours on the right. The numbers in his darling’s work were completely off, and they could have cost the company hundreds of thousands if the situation hadn’t been resolved.

He was certain that it was sheer dumb luck.

Just because you had prevented a major internal disaster from occurring doesn’t mean he would ever look at you as he looked at Hyeung Mun-Hee. In a cesspool filled with hypocrites and liars, his darling is a breath of fresh air. Pure, kind-hearted, committed. Loving. So many qualities you lacked. Yet is it all that it seems? He thought, sitting alone in his home office late at night. If Hyeung Mun-Hee made these mistakes, why didn’t she just admit it instead of coming to me?

He wanted to believe she was telling the truth, yet the proof is right there on his computer. Like his predecessors, he needed to take on the responsibility of a leader and make sure that the conglomerate’s integrity remained intact. However, he also desired to shelter his darling from the world’s cruelty. Remove her from the department and secretly marry her so that they could be together at last. He is selfish, but he has the right to bask in his own happiness. Unlike some people.

Well, if he can’t outright get the truth from you…then he’ll just have to call in a favor from a certain someone in the underworld. The person in question could set up cameras in your bedroom by slipping in and out of your estate as a groundskeeper or pest control and no one would be the wiser. He could do it for a price and make sure that nothing could be traced back to him. The last thing Yeo Jung-Hwa wanted is to be arrested for illegally filming someone without their consent.

Not when this is an opportunity to sever ties with you completely, once and for all.

Two days later, he received an email and an attachment. When he clicked on it, four camera angles appeared on his desktop. All of them were in your room. But is this really your room? He expected it to be clean with sleek, wooden floors covered by monochrome carpeting and a walk-in closet filled to the brim with extravagant clothes, shoes, purses that she wouldn’t wear twice in her life. The uninspiring minimalist bougie interior design that is being coveted amongst the upper classes. Your taste was much more comforting. It appeared cozy, with soft lighting and warm blankets.

Strings of fairy lights strung up across the ceiling. A full bookshelf was near the bed. The floor was decorated with knitted ottomans and candles. You lit them all back up as soon as you returned from the company, much later in the evening and when he was in his home office, cradling a cup of black coffee.

You disappeared into the back for a moment, returning in a two-piece fleece loungewear with mushrooms and plants on them. Something he had expected to see Hyeung Mun-Hee dressed in, but not you. Were you trying to copy his lover’s tastes so he would pay attention to you? How shameless!

When he flipped the audio on the cameras, he expected to hear snide remarks about Hyeung Mun-Hee or see you talking to someone on the phone about sabotaging the new project coming up soon so that you would take all the credit. Instead, you were…shopping on a furniture site?

“I don’t need another bookcase, or it’ll look too cluttered. I can’t get any more potted plants either. I’ve already done enough renovations here to make it cozy and relaxing. What about…a salt thingy? What’s it called?” You typed a few words in the search engine, [Eye Color] irises brightening in realization. “Oh right, Himalayan salt lamp! That’s not a terrible price for this one! And yarn. I need more yarn to complete that gift for Caretaker Lee’s birthday. Speaking of which, I could work on that tonight. Give my eyes a break from staring at screens all damned day.” You scooted over to the edge of the bed, pulling one drawer outward. You then reached inside, removing knitting needles, yarn and dark red clumps of something. You put on headphones and began to knit.

You, the proud and arrogant Park Seo-yun, was knitting.

You didn’t move from that spot at all, completely focused on your project when a knock came from the bedroom door. A fleeting, fearful look appeared on your face before you frantically shoved all of your materials back in the drawer, sputtering to wait one moment that you weren’t decent before putting on a bored expression, scrolling through your phone and reclining back like a lazy cat. You told them to come in, and an elderly woman in an apron walked in with a wooden tray filled with assorted foodstuff, carefully setting it down on one of the ottomans.

“Thank you for preparing my midnight snack, Caretaker Lee. I’m sorry it’s been such an inconvenience while I’m reviewing these documents for tomorrow.” You said with a smile. Caretaker Lee shook her head, walking over to your bed. You scooted over so she wouldn’t fall over the edge (presumably, because this entire situation is bizarre to Yeo Jung-Hwa), and she sat down. She smiled down at you, stroking the top of your head.

“This humble one is honored to serve the Park family, especially the hard-working young miss. It cannot be easy, with the current circumstances. Young miss…please forgive me for speaking outright…but are you certain about going through with this engagement? It seems that you have never spent any time with him outside of working at his conglomerate, and any time he has is spent with someone else.”

Yeo Jung-Hwa expected you to hit her, to punish Caretaker Lee for speaking out of turn and to mind her own business. Instead, you stared at her for a long moment, wide-eyed and mouth slightly parted…before your lips curled into a melancholy smile, eyes softening.

“I thank you for your concern, Caretaker Lee. But this is an engagement between my father and the conglomerate’s predecessor. It’s not something that can be broken off so easily with benefits for both parties.” You said. “This is the price to be part of the elite. To sacrifice your happiness for the sake of business.” You then leaned forward, pulling Caretaker Lee into a hug. “It’ll be okay, really. I’m Park Seo-yun. I can take care of myself. And you should be in bed. You’ve got a long drive to see your grandchildren tomorrow morning. Enjoy the weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”

“But-”

“I’ll bring the tray down the kitchen when I’m finished.”

“Miss-”

“Nope.”

You then shooed her out of the room, telling Caretaker Lee to send your mother a text as soon as she got to her destination. The old woman smiled sheepishly, wishing you good night and asked you to not stay up too late. Once she was out of the room and the door was closed, you walked back to the bed, shoulders sagging and suddenly looking incredibly tired before you fell face first onto the blankets, legs dangling from the edge. You remained like that for a moment, then picked yourself up and curled up your lower body, grabbing one of the blankets and putting it over your legs. You retrieved your hidden supplies, resuming your knitting, taking five minute breaks in between to eat from the tray. Three more hours passed until you decided to call it a night, blowing out the candles and switching the fairy lights to a lower setting before disappearing into the bathroom. You came back out, grabbed the tray, and vanished.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. You are a haughty, greedy woman who could care less about commoners, much less servants. You love shopping at boutiques and only want the best of the best in anything. Even in an arranged marriage. He could never be happy with someone like you.

But is all of that true? A nasty little voice in the back of Yeo Jung-Hwa’s mind hissed. Those were rumors created by other women who weren’t pleased that they weren’t good enough to marry you. Park Seo-yun is a stranger to you. You never bothered to know nor care to. Why would you when you have someone you love, Hyeung Mun-Hee?

He didn’t need to, and the fact that he wanted to know the truth about you of all people terrified him. He’s not supposed to care, not to be curious or even concerned about your well-being. This was a strategic engagement, not one born out of mutual affection. He has a role to play in this world after all.

Three weeks had passed since he had the cameras installed, and all Yeo Jung-Hwa had discovered or even learned is that you were a completely different person in your home than at the office.

You work Monday through Fridays, always on time and never staying late unless it was necessary. You returned to your family estate late on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays because there was a spinning class at the company gym after your shift on those days. Friday evenings were spent in either your room, holed up and completely focused on knitting or doing something else that helped relax you. If you were staying up late, the servants would provide a midnight snack for you. The portions increased on the days you were at the gym, alluding that you possessed an enormous appetite due to a high metabolism instead of being a glutton as Hyeung Mun-Hee has told him time and time again. You talked to yourself when you were alone, or at least your thoughts before making a decision on something. When he remotely hacked into your laptop to see if he could find any evidence of foul play there, he saw your browsing history contained only decoration aesthetics ideas, healthier snacks to eat at night, local beginner yoga instructors, and shopping at small businesses on Crafty plus one or two high-end boutiques for business casual outfits. Nothing incriminating on any level whatsoever. But he was not going to let you off of the hook that easily.

At work he ignored you entirely, focusing his attention on Hyeung Mun-Hee and blocked your calls so that he didn’t have to talk to you outside of business hours. There was not a single text message or voicemail from you on his cellphone when he unblocked your number yesterday morning after coming into the office. Understandably frustrated and cranky from a lack of proper sleep, he decided to change the deadline for the quarterly income statements and the inspections of the company’s financial software, including reinforcing the firewalls and ensuring there was no fraudulent activity in the company’s transactions to Monday morning.

With this amount of work, he was absolutely certain that it would be your slip-up. That you’d push your assigned tasks to Hyeung Mun-Hee so you could keep working on your knitting projects. Today is Saturday, and you left your house at seven o’clock to go to the office. You stayed awake until midnight typing away on your company laptop, looking over spreadsheets while talking to the head of IT on speaker, arranging a test run on the firewalls on Sunday evening.

Instead of helping the team prepare for everything to be finished at the beginning of the week, Hyeung Mun-Hee was sitting across from him inside a coffee shop, beaming and utterly happy that they were finally out on a date after not being on one for so long, she was getting worried about him. Well…perhaps. Yeo Jung-Hwa glanced down at the shopping bags by their feet. They had gone to trendy high end streets and luxury department stores earlier this morning, with Hyeung Mun-Hee desiring…no, more like insisting that she had at least eight new work outfits so that she would represent his company properly as a team member of the Finance Department.

If that’s true, then why are you here using my black card to shop instead of working at the office? He thought behind a smile as his supposed lover’s words went from one ear and out the other. If you were here with him, he’d probably have been more accepting of indulging in your vices and insisting on paying for everything instead of you, even when you were just as wealthy as he is.

“I’m sure that you will find out why Park Seo-yun is acting so suspiciously!” Hyeung Mun-Hee said in a hushed voice. “I can’t believe you are even associated with such a vile person.She can’t get away with talking down to others like that! She may be rich, but she doesn’t know how to truly appreciate what she has right now!” She giggled. “It’s funny, isn’t it? She has everything, but she still clings to your engagement like a sad puppy! If she truly loves you, then she should have convinced her father to call everything off so that you can be happy. But the rich think differently I guess, right?”

His smile tightened. “Perhaps.” He said, languidly sipping the java chip mocha frappuccino that she bought for him even though he preferred to have his coffee black with no sugar and he’s told her this little tidbit many times. “She is extravagant, but you also have luxurious taste, Hyeung Mun-Hee.”

He watched her eyes widen in surprise and embarrassment, sputtering for a moment before she asked. “W-What are you saying, Yeo Jung-Hwa? You know me! If I had been given a choice to meet up, I would have chosen the downtown area so you could try the street vendors I’ve been talking about!”

And risk my health by getting food poison from reused cooking oil, poorly washed utensils, and ingesting noodles that are too greasy or salty? Absolutely not. He thought with slight irritation.

“Maybe, but we both know that we must be discreet in our interactions, as I’ve told you before.That’s why I suggested we come here, but instead of sampling delicious foods at the restaurants I recommended, you wanted to come here instead after shopping. If I remember correctly, your department is supposed to be presenting a big project on Monday. Why are you here, shopping to your hearts’ content instead of being at the office and helping out the team?”

“W-Why should I be there?” Hyeung Mun-Hee countered, bolting up from her seat as she stared at him in shock. “If I go there, Park Seo-yun will harass me! I can’t work in an environment like that! I did those seminars she told me to do and passed the tests! Can’t I enjoy a day off?!” Fat tears began to build up behind her hazel eyes. “I’ve been working hard enough!”

But you are the one who is putting in the overtime needed to finish the job. You are leading the team to do what needs to be done. Hyeung Mun-Hee is just enjoying the perks of being by his side. Have you eaten lunch yet? Perhaps he can stop by somewhere that allows take-out and bring some to your office under the excuse that he needs to get some work done as well. Dinner too, perhaps?

“ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME, YEO JUNG-HWA?!”

He glared at her. “Sit down, Hyeung Mun-Hee.” He hissed, displeased that her shrill voice had attracted unwanted attention from customers who were either sitting at tables or waiting on orders to finish up at the pick-up area. “Finish your drink, and take a taxi back to the city, to your home.”

“It’s still early in the day, we haven’t been out in a while!”

“And I’m tired from the shopping. I don’t need to see what you bought because I already have seen them all at the shops.” He replied tersely. “I need to stop by the office and take care of a few things at the office before I need to go home.”

Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face is a dark shade of purple. Consumed by anger, her mouth hung open, on the brink of another explosive tantrum, as the coffee shop door swung open, exposing its next patron. You.

You stepped up to the pick-up area, looking at the various drinks with a pensive expression before waving down a barista. “Excuse me.” You said. “I’m here to pick up a mobile order for several drinks under Park. When will they be ready? I need to hurry back to the office with caffeine for my employees or things are going to get ugly.” The handbag hung from your wrist as you fished out your phone, presumably showing the online order to the young man. He looked at you before smiling at you.

“We’ll have it done in just a moment, ma’am.”

Is it wrong for Yeo Jung-Hwa to desire the bright smile you gave to that insignificant commoner when you did not know he was here with Hyeung Mun-Hee?

Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations!

Important things must be said three times.

The viewership score for Episode 52 has arrived!

Taglist: @cerisearan @julietdelamare @ghostdoodlen @mochinon-yah @queenofspades403 @alittletiredcry @burningaestheticsimp @proper-fox @neutralrobot @reallysparklychaos @tired-of-life-86 @nunezs-stuff @yandere-dark-cupid @imperfectbloodmoon @cassanderasblog @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @ixchelhernandez4 @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @persephone-kore-law @swallowtail-lotus @tonightwrites @majestichugs @pinkynecktie

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere!ceo #cw obsessive behavior #tw obsessive behavior #cw noncon #tw noncon #cw cheating #tw cheating #cw work toxicity #tw work toxicity

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vintagetimetarot · 2 months

Text

Message from your future spouses higher self 🌹

Hi everyone! It’s been so long since I posted a PAC. So sorry! My mental health hasn’t been great. But I finally mustered up some motivation for a reading today. This is whatever your future spouses higher self wants to bring to light to you. Let’s go! Pick a vinatge image below for your pile. (Side note, a lot of the piles were very similar, so if you feel drawn to more than one, go for it!)

Pile 1: The message your future spouse’s higher self wants to tell you is that that are genuinely so proud on how far you have come in life. They can’t wait to finally meet you, they say that your union isn’t super far away. They want to let you know that once they come into your life, they’ll be your biggest cheerleader and number one support. They think you are the most beautiful, graceful, and talented person they’ve ever met. They wish they could just hold you all night. They want to let you know that your relationship is not one sided at all, even though it may come off that way when you two first meet. They just love you so much! They also pick up that you haven’t been emotionally feeling great, they are here to remind you how beautiful of a person you are and why they fell in love with you. They really want to emphasize how true their connection is with you. That’s all Pile 1, I hope this resonated.

Pile 2: Your future spouses higher self wants you to know that whatever struggles your dealing with right now are about to end. They know how amazing you are and are telling you they have 100% faith that you will get through whatever is going on. They are letting you know divine timing is on your side, and things are going unfold into a happy place naturally. They admire how you’ve been handling everything with such grace, they think you are so beautiful/handsome for this. They are telling you to look for signs (birds and rabbits for some reason may resonate) of your union coming closer. Just hold on a little longer! Even outside of your love life, good offers and opportunities are coming to you, and you need to embrace them is what your future spouse is saying. Materially, you are in for a really good time, and it’s going to get even better once they come into your life. Your future spouse is well off, and will try to share this with you by giving gifts and taking you to nice places and such when you first meet/start dating. They are here to tell you that are very excited for you guys to meet and are very excited. That’s all Pile 2, I hope this resonated!

Pile 3: Your future spouses higher self wants your to trust your gut more and believe in yourself! They love every part of you and are asking you to not be so ashamed of yourself. You are a hard and generous worker, and they want you to start recognizing your power and your influence. You bring so much positive energy into your family and friends lives, and especially theirs. They want to tell you they just love you so deeply. They want to let you know when they come into your life, they will rush in so fast. (The Elvis song came to mind lmao). They want you to be patient with them as they are charmer and experienced at love, but have their fallacies sometimes. They like to put you on a pedestal I see. They want to remind you to keep making good choices in your life. Your skill and dedication to things is something they admire and wish for you to keep up. Keep up the good work is what they say! That’s all Pile 3, I hope it resonated!

Pile 4: Your future spouses higher self wants to be more assertive for yourself in love so you can attract them into your life sooner. They are ITCHING to just meet you already. They consider themselves lucky knowing you are their future partner. Your future spouse is saying to keep your standards high and to not settle for breadcrumbs. The relationship they are about to give you will be beautiful and the romance of a lifetime, but you need to trust the process. As you both balance your lives and keep moving forward, the closer this connection gets. You are a natural born leader and they want you to assert and put yourself or there more. You have such a bright future ahead of you right now, and they just wanna tell you that you should be excited and happy. They think that you’ve been doing a good job, but wanted to serve this to you as a huge reminder. You bring so much life and light into people’s lives and you have amazing gifts, they are screaming at you to start using them! That’s all Pile 4, I hope it resonated.

#tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile #pac #future spouse

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seivsite · 8 months

Text

BRUSHSTROKES OF MAGIC.

includes: lyney x fem!reader. painter!reader, fluff, may be ooc lyney, painter and her magician muse — wc: 591

You had finally secured tickets to Lyney and Lynette’s captivating Magic Show.

After putting in hard work through small art commissions and assisting others, your perseverance paid off. Luckily, you found yourself seated in the second row, enjoying a perfect view of the entire stage. As the lights dimmed, a spotlight illuminated the enchanting magicians.

“Welcome to Lyney and Lynette’s Magic Show!” Lyney exclaimed, his arms wide open in a welcoming gesture.

The performance unfolded before your eyes, blurring the line between reality and fantasy.

The show concluded with a burst of applause, whistles, and amazed cheers filling the room. Lyney and Lynette took their bows, expressing gratitude to the audience before exiting the stage.

While others started to leave the theatre, you remained lost in your thoughts, unable to tear yourself away.

You noticed Lyney’s occasional glances in your direction, but you brushed them off, assuming he was merely engaging with the audience. Your hands moved instinctively, retrieving a small paper and a worn pencil that you carried everywhere. Swiftly, you sketched the scene, capturing the magicians as the focal point.

Unaware of another presence, you snapped out of your trance when a red rose materialised before you.

Your eyes widened at the sight, then lifted to meet the culprit—a mischievous grin adorning his face.

“Well, M’lady, perhaps we should step outside before we find ourselves locked in here,” he suggested, tucking the flower gently into your hair. Extending his hand, he invited you to join him.

You accepted his hand, and he turned to his sister, who stood waiting.

“Took you quite a while,” she remarked, her expression unchanging.

“Apologies, Lynette. It seems M’lady was deeply absorbed in thought,” he responded.

“Please stop addressing me like that,” you murmured, your cheeks tinged with a blush.

“Apologies again! I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing your name. I’m Lyney. This is my sister, Lynette, and you are...?” He walked alongside you as the three of you departed the theatre.

“(Name), pleased to make your acquaintance,” you replied.

From that day forward, your bond with Lyney grew remarkably strong, much to Lynette’s amusement as she shook her head at her brother’s persistent attempts to win you over.

In a meadow bursting with vibrant blooms, Lyney stood amidst the flowers, becoming both your muse and a devoted spectator. As your brush danced gracefully across the canvas, each stroke seemed to weave a rich tapestry of emotions.

“Are you almost finished, M’lady?” Lyney’s voice broke the tranquil air as he noticed your momentary pause.

“Hmm, just a few more minutes,” you replied, urging him to remain where he stood.

When the art piece finally took shape, it radiated colours and beauty that surpassed mere brushwork. Lyney was thoroughly impressed, unable to contain himself as he pressed a kiss to your cheek, prompting a delightful blush from you.

“Thank you for immortalising me in your art, M’lady. I shall treasure it,” Lyney expressed, his tone sincere.

“It’s no big deal,” you replied with a smile. Lyney settled beside the portrayal of yourself, gazing at you with unwavering attention.

“Is something wrong?” you questioned, perplexed by his sudden change in demeanour.

“No, it’s just that something has been occupying my thoughts,” he confessed, his fond gaze fixed on you.

Your head tilted in curiosity, awaiting an explanation.

“Despite my belief in the wonder of my magic tricks, they pale in comparison to your beauty and talent. I’m afraid, M’lady, that you’ve stolen my heart. So, will you do me the honour of accepting this responsibility?”

NOTES. he’s cute i like the idea of painter!reader w lyney whos a magician, also my second genshin work weee. kinda rushed this so whatever plot i have is a bit wonky, maybe.

TAG LIST. @yanqingisim

LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3

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natsaffection · 3 months

Text

Reward | N.R

MINORS DNI 18+!

Summary: Natasha is proud of her best player.

Warnings: g!p Natasha, kinda manipulative, desk sex, rough sex

Word count: 1,9k

A/n: first time writing g!p. It’s a little rushed, but that came suddenly in my mind 🧍🏻‍♀️

The halftime buzzer echoed through the gymnasium, signaling a break in the intense game. Natasha, clad in her coaching attire, surveyed the court with a stern expression. The tension in the air was palpable.

Natashas piercing gaze followed the players as they retreated into the locker room. Her team was trailing, and the urgency of the situation reflected in the crease of her brow.

As the players settled into the locker room, Natasha’s eyes remained fixed on you. A silent understanding passed between you both – Natasha knew that you were their last hope for a comeback. The weight of expectations rested squarely on the your shoulders, and Natasha’s intense stare conveyed the gravity of the moment.

Inside the locker room, the air was charged with anticipation. Natasha, standing at the center, addressed the team with a steely resolve. “This is our chance to turn the game around. We’ve got the skills, the talent, but we need to play as a cohesive unit. Y/n, you’re our linchpin. The team looks up to you, and we need your best performance out there.”

Her eyes bore into you, emphasizing the crucial role you played in the team’s destiny. Natasha delved into the intricacies of the revised strategy, urging the players to synchronize their movements and capitalize on their strengths. The locker room echoed with the intensity of Natasha’s words, each one a call to action.

You, absorbing Natasha’s gaze, felt the weight of responsibility but also a surge of determination. This was the moment to prove yourself, not just as an individual player but as the catalyst for the team’s resurgence. Natasha’s demanding coaching style became a beacon of inspiration rather than an obstacle, pushing the team to elevate their game.

As Natasha continued to outline the strategy, her eyes never wavered from you. It was as if she could see the potential waiting to be unleashed. The halftime break ended, and the team, led by Natasha, returned to the court with a renewed sense of purpose. The second half unfolded with precision and determination and your team executed Natasha’s strategy flawlessly.

Under Natasha’s watchful eye, you showcased her your exceptional skills with a fierce determination. Every move was calculated, every shot purposeful. The team rallied around you, the synergy evident in their coordinated efforts. The scoreboard gradually shifted in their favor, the gap closing with each passing minute.

Feeling the weight of Natasha's expectations, you drove towards the basket with a newfound determination. The opponents, sensing the shift in momentum, intensified their defense. Yet, you maneuvered skillfully, executing a flawless layup that brought the crowd to their feet. A quick glance towards Natasha revealed a subtle nod of approval, a silent acknowledgment of the pivotal play.

However, the game was far from over. The opponents retaliated, scoring a basket that widened the gap. Natasha's stern expression betrayed a momentary tension – a coach acutely aware of the precarious situation. Her jaw tightened, and the lines on her forehead deepened as she contemplated the next move.

Gathering the team during a timeout, Natasha's voice cut through the air, firm and resolute. "We're running out of time, but we don't back down. Tighten your defense, trust the plays. Y/n, lead the charge. We're not letting them dictate this game."

Fueled by Natasha's unwavering belief you rallied the team. The court became a battleground, each possession a testament to their resilience. Natasha, though stoic, radiated a fierce determination that reverberated through the team.

In the closing minutes, you orchestrated a series of plays that saw the scoreboard narrowing the gap. Natasha, on the sidelines, displayed a subtle shift in demeanor – a mixture of anticipation and confidence. With seconds ticking away, you seized the moment, sinking a game-changing shot that tied the score.

The crowd erupted, and Natasha, unable to contain her pride, allowed a rare smile to grace her features. The final buzzer echoed, signaling a dramatic turnaround. As the team celebrated their hard-fought victory.

———

Natasha approached you with a subtle yet undeniable glint in her eyes, a mix of pride and something more enigmatic. The post-game euphoria lingered in the air, creating a charged atmosphere between coach and player.

"Y/n, that was an exceptional performance out there," Natasha commended, her voice carrying a rare warmth. "You truly stepped up when the team needed it the most."

Natasha's hand brushed against your shoulder, a subtle yet deliberate touch that sent shivers down your spine. With a glance towards her office, Natasha extended an invitation. "Why don't we discuss the game in more detail?“ You were too naive to understand her real intuition, so you just agreed. She is your coach after all, so what could go wrong?

As the two of you enter her office, Natasha walks ahead and you close the door behind you. She leaned against her desk, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that surpassed the boundaries of a post-game analysis. The subtle hum of the air conditioner was drowned out by the unspoken tension between coach and player.

"Y/n," Natasha began, her voice a low murmur that seemed to draw you closer. "There's something about you on the court... a fire that's not easily extinguished. It's intriguing."

You, still caught in the afterglow of the victory, met Natasha's gaze with a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty. "Thank you, Coach. I just did what I thought was best for the team."

Natasha circled the desk, closing the distance between you both. "You did more than that. You showed a level of skill and determination that goes beyond the court. It’s rare."

The air in the room thickened as Natasha's fingers lightly traced the neckline of your jersey, a subtle yet deliberate touch that sent a shiver down your spine. Your heartbeat quickened, the unspoken tension taking a more palpable form.

"I see potential in you, not just as a player," Natasha whispered, her lips mere inches from your ear. "But as someone who understands the game beyond its rules."

Caught in the magnetic pull of Natasha's presence, you felt a swirl of emotions. Confusion, anticipation, and a hint of something more. Natasha's gaze bore into you, a silent invitation that transcended the boundaries of a typical coach-player relationship.

"C-Coach Romanoff," You began, the words catching in your throat as Natasha's proximity became more pronounced. "I'm not sure I understand..."

Natasha silenced you with a finger against your lips, her eyes locking onto theirs with a smoldering intensity. "Sometimes, Y/n, the best plays happen off the court," she murmured, her voice carrying a seductive undertone. "Let me show you a different kind of victory."

You look up at her innocently and she leans down to kiss you. As she continued, you felt her hand slide down to your pussy. She runs her hand over your panties and rubs her fingers further inside. She held onto your shoulders a little with her other hand so that you wouldn't squirm too much. “M-Mrs Romanoff, I don't think we-”

She continued until she could feel your wetness through your underwear, "It's pretty wet down here.." she whispers in your ear and now starts to knead your breast. She grabbed your nipple and twisted it between her fingers, her head still in your neck “Should I stop?” The action was already sending waves through your body and your body twitched, “I..D-Don’t know...." she twisted them more, "Do you want it or not? You decide.“

Her movements ran through your whole body. Even your fingers were starting to cramp, “Comon, Detka, Say 'please don’t stop'..” She let go of your nipple, but now pushed it into your breast and you twitched again. “p-please don’t stop! Do not stop.."

This turned Natasha more on. You give your complete control only to her. She smelled your neck and licked it, “Say 'I want you’. ” Your head was so covered that you didn't even know what you were actually saying, “I-I want you..”

Now she let go of you completely and you staggered briefly to find your feet and stand again. She took a step back and took off her leather jacket, “Good girl.”

She walks you back and pushes you against her desk. She holds your waist, lifts you up and sits you on her table. She stands between your legs and her hands caress your soft thighs.

She kisses you again, moving her hands further up. She grabs your ass, pulls you a little closer and lets her cock rub against you. You moan into her mouth and pull away. You put your hands behind you and brace yourself on her desk. She continues to rub herself against you, her eyes scanning your body. She moans and pulls away, quickly pulling your panties to the side. She kisses you as she slides her finger into your pussy.

Your eyes close as she begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of you. You gasp as she curled a finger inside you. But then she lifts you off her desk, turns you around, and presses your chest flat against the desk. She spreads your legs, bends down and presses her chest onto your back.

There was a slight rustle as Natasha opened a packet of condoms and slipped it over her member and then she pressed herself against you, cursing and cursing under her breath. You let out a breathy moan at the penetration, pushing yourself back onto hers. "God, you're so tight..." Natasha hissed as she was fully inside your vagina.

She didn't start gently and wait for you to get used to it, she immediately started hitting you roughly. Within moments you were moaning and panting wantonly, your body almost melting into the table. “Mrs R-Romanoff!”

She moaned in agreement, your knuckles already white from gripping the edge of the desk so tightly. Natasha began rocking you, first with small, hard thrusts, then longer and deeper. She changed positions a few times until she managed to hit your perfect spot, causing stars to appear in your vision.

The desk creaked and rocked under the force of her thrusts, and you were sure someone could probably hear the rhythmic tapping of the desk, but that only added to the whole excitement. “That’s it, make some pretty noises for me.” The dark sound of her voice echoed through your body, sending your racing brain into hyperdrive.

Every time her hips slammed into you, you felt white, hot ecstasy pouring from your core and coursing through your entire being. You couldn’t stop the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips, no matter how much you wanted them to.

“Such a good fuck toy,” she purred, burying a hand in your hair and tugging painfully. “Taking my cock so good.” Suddenly and violently, she jerked your head up so that her lips touched your ear. "Since you've had so much practice lately, I’ll give you a little reward.”

You arch your back and scream, "F-Fuck!" felt a lot of joy and couldn't hold back your salivation any longer. She stares contentedly at your drooling face, knowing that she is the only one who has the privilege of fucking you senseless. “Fuck yes, baby, cum for me. Cum on that damn cock!” she grits her teeth as she penetrates you. She feels your tight little hole begin to twitch around her and doesn't let up, feeling you buck your hips against her. “I think I c-can’t, I can’t...”

“Yes you fucking can, baby, let go..Lose control for me..” She pumps into you faster, getting dangerously closer to her own release. “You can do it, baby, just fucking let go!”She throws her head back and rubs circles on your clit with her thumb as she relentlessly drills your pussy. “Fuck yes!!”

“I-I’m coming-“She grabbed your neck and pulled your face towards hers. She brutally claims your pretty little mouth, swallowing your screams as you cum hard on her cock.

#natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romanov smut #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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rheya28 · 9 months

Text

Sol School of Fashion ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

♥ Hi guys, today I present to you SOL School of Fashion "SOF". This build/project is extremely special as I collaborated with the lovely and talented @farfallasims who kindly curated all the looks for the 2023 SOF Fashion Show Event

2023 SOF Fashion Show Theme: LUXURIOUS TROPICS " High end fashion meets the tropics" Looks Curated by: @farfallasims [ Look Book Link ] 25:23 Build by : @rheya28 [ Speed Build & Fashion Show ]

♥ Sol School of Fashion "SOF" is a well known fashion studio/school located in Del Sol Valley. SOF is a space that encourages boldness, creativity, and innovation. Sims can have access to a café, photo studios, a classroom, a meeting room, a lounge, as well as a customizable runway with a backstage dressing room that consist of all the fashion necessities needed to produce a professional fashion show event.

READ ME

♥ I placed this as a Generic Lot as we don’t exactly have a fashion school Lot type, so it’s all just pretend. This lot could also be set as a Café as it meets all the requirements to function as one.

♥ This build was inspired by bbygyal23's Curve Agency , another talented builder so please check out her content!

♥ Warning: This is another CC heavy lot

♥ Please make sure to turn on bb.moveobjects on!

♥ Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own.

♥ Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file but please make sure to credit me.

[VIDEO] TIME:

0:02 Intro

1:34 Speed Build

25:23 Fashion Show

27:25 Photos

♥ LOT DETAILS

Lot Name: Sol School of Fashion

Lot type: Generic lot type or Cafe

Lot size: 40x30

Location: Starlight Boulevard, Del Sol Valley

♥ MODS:

TOOL MOD by TwistedMexi

♥ CC LIST:

*Note: I have all parts of all sets in this list unless noted otherwise, so I highly recommend you guys dl them since I frequently use them in all my builds!*

Awingedllama : Boho Living, nostalgia living

Greenllama: The woodwind collection

Novvas: Holz Kitchen

Qicc: Sleep Hallway, Urban Bedroom

S-imagination: Nota

Sooky: Abstract framed posters -wooden frame

Sooky: Bon ton n1 ceiling lamp - Tall

Syboubou: Daguerre Reica Camera, Ballet mirror , fency

The Clutter Cat: Dandy Diary, Mellow moods

Aira : Artist in me

Anye: Zara Bathroom

ATS4: pot 4, pot 13, plant 16 Crafting room: dressform blouse, dressform male, dressform suit, folded fabrics, jar, paperstack, patterns, sewing machine

Harrie: Bafroom, brownstone, kichen

House of Harlix: Baysic, harluxe, brutalist, coastal, kwatei, octave, shop the look 2, spoons, Jardane, Livin Rum, Orjanic, tiny twavellers

Felix Andre: Berlin, Chateau, fayun, colonial, grove, kyoto, paris, shop the look

Brainstrip: my corner cc pack desk only

Charlypancakes: Munch, the lighthouse collection, miscellanea, modish, smol

Leori: Hipster loft

Illogical Sims: Home office

Kaiso: rustico living

Kate Emerald: Blissful baby Ottoman

Kiwisims4: Blockhouse hallway, Blockhouse Dining

Leaf Motif: Devon kitchen

Little Dica: Country side Cabin, Rise & Grind, sleek slumber

Madame Ria: Back to basics paint wall, Limber lumber

Madlen: Hiru misc set

Rusticsims: Mayaken, Modular life

Myls: Simple Clothes rack nordic

Mxims: LG

Myshunosun: Sol kitchen, Arrie Office, Gale dining, Lottie, Macaron kitchen, herbalist kitchen, tranquil bedroom

Peacemaker: Alesund, Hudson, Kitayama, Terra tiles horizontal/vertical, Vera Office

Pierisim: Coldbrew, David Apartment, Domain Du clos, MCM, Oak house, Tilable, unfold, Winter Garden

max20/maxsus: Poolside lounge pack

Sforzinda: Func EP02 Espressogrindomatic, espressoimpresso, cabin slats

sims4luxury: Mcgee&co Callhan rug

Sixam: Artz Living room, small spaces work from home, hotel bedroom, kessler kitchen, stylist wood livingroom, teen room

TaurusDesign: Eliza Bedroom, Elsa kids room

mycupofcc: Modernist

Tuds: 2ndWave, beam, cave, cross, wave

♥ Thank you to all CC Creators

♥ Tray file

♥ Gallery ID: Applez

♥ Twitter: Rheya28__

♥ Tiktok: Rheya28__

#sims 4 #thesims4 #ts4 #sims #showusyourbuilds #sims 4 cc #thesims #sims 4 builds #ts4 build #builds #build

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adascore · 3 days

Note

Hello! Not sure if you’re taking requests but would you consider doing an addition to TSS where young!arsenal reader was starting before Beth and Viv came back and has been benched majority of the time since (Kyra core☹️). Maybe during like the west ham game was one of the subs thrown on halfway through and after the loss made a snarky comment about “being thrown on to unfuck everything” type of thing to another teammate and Viv/beth overhear and think she’s talking about them (maybe they’re already a little insecure about losing such an “easy” game, self doubt post ACL) and things are super frosty and weird at home until one of them snaps and makes a comment about how they still wouldn’t have won even if R started. Hurt/comfort angst but with a happy ending!! Not sure if any of that strikes your fancy but I had the thought and you’re so talented:) no worries if not!!!

TO JUMP THE GUN(NERS)

pairings: arsenal x teen!reader / meadema x teen!reader / kyra cooney-cross x arsenal!reader

warnings: the west-ham match. swearing. angst. awkwardness.

author’s note: OMG LOVE THIS IDEA ! like this was right up my alley I felt like 😭 thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the story!

masterlist

February 4, 2024 - Essex, England

It had become a routine, seeing her name and number on the bench. She took a glance at Kyra, a knowing look in her eyes.

The young Arsenal homegrown wondered where it all had gotten wrong. Well, she knew the answer, but it wasn't exactly something she could say out loud to anyone.

She was transported back to the 2022/23 season, where she would warm the bench until either Vivianne or Beth were too tired or they needed to be rested for the next match.

Their injuries had changed everything.

Y/N not only became a regular starter, but became a vital part of their game. Her absence would be noticed.

She scored the goals that got them to the semifinals of the Champions League, keeping them level with 2x champions Wolfsburg.

However, Beth and Vivianne were back now. Alessia's arrival also didn't help much, the former Manchester United player having cemented herself into the starting line-up.

It also didn't help that Jonas was not a fan of rotating. Only in specific Conti Cup matches or against what he deemed 'weaker' teams in the league would he make changes to the usual starting XI.

In other words, she was back to step 1.

That's why it was hard to watch her teammates falling 2-1 behind against West Ham, with no one seeming to find an answer or any will to turn the game around. It was a painful spectacle.

In the 63rd minute, Jonas decided to throw herself, Kyra and Cloé in the match, and take out Vivianne, Victoria and Beth. It was a desperate attempt, and the three Gunners found themselves on the pitch, tasked with the challenging mission of trying to fix everything that had gone wrong so far.

Y/N and Cloé quickly created some chances but the West Ham defense or the swift reflexes of Mackenzie Arnold saw them go in vain.

The teenager could see the expressions of her teammates on the bench, visibly frustrated with how the match had unfolded since Alessia's successful header.

Vivianne couldn't hide the discontent in her eyes as she sat with a subtle shake of her head. Her partner, sitting beside her, noticed and Beth patted her thigh, offering silent support as they continued to watch their team scramble for a late equalizer.

As the final whistle blew, the disappointment within the team was high. Y/N did her usual post-match routine, and congratulated all the West Ham players on their win, while giving and receiving solace from her own teammates.

The teen found Kyra again, someone who she had found a friendship in over the months the Australian had joined the Gunners.

''You alright?'' The midfielder asked her, a dejected tone in her voice.

Y/N nodded. ''Yeah, you?''

''Not too great, but there are worse things in life.'' Kyra responded, trying to put the loss in perspective.

''True,'' the striker agreed, ''I can't believe he keeps putting us in these positions.''

Kyra nodded. ''You think he would learn after Tottenham.'' She sighed.

''Apparently, we're not good enough to start, but when he needs us to unfuck everything that happened, then he knows who we are.'' Y/N said, her frustration evident. The unfair treatment of some players during the season lingered in the air, leaving a bitter taste after the defeat.

As the youngsters continued their conversation on their way to the locker room, Vivianne and Beth, unintentionally overhearing their discussion, exchanged puzzled glances.

''Did you hear that? 'Unfuck everything'?'' Beth repeated her housemate's words to her partner.

Vivianne's brow furrowed as she processed what was said. ''Yeah,'' the Dutchwoman breathed out, ''not very nice.'' A hint of sadness lingered in her voice. It stung that their efforts were being discussed in such terms, especially by the young girl they were living with.

They didn't say much else to one another as they strolled through the corridor.

The atmosphere in the locker room was subdued, void of any banter and entertaining chats. Most of the players were already there as the couple walked in.

Beth took a glimpse at Y/N and Kyra who still seemed in a discussion with one another, although they were whispering now.

''Girls, we're a lot better than this.'' Kim broke the ice, a neutral expression on her face.

Everyone nodded at the captain, the collective disappointment from the match was visible. ''Well, it's done, we can't change anything about it. So, everyone just do a reset, try to get some sleep or distract yourselves on the bus, and I expect everyone with fresh minds and legs at training.''

The team nodded and weakly applauded Kim's small speech.

As the team began to disperse, Y/N caught Beth's eye, offering a faint smile in greeting. However, the winger's response was noticeably strained, her usually warm demeanor replaced by a subtle tension.

"Everything okay?" The younger one ventured, her concern evident.

Beth's smile faltered slightly, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet Y/N's. "Yeah, everything's fine." She replied, though her words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

The striker's brow furrowed further, a flicker of uncertainty clouding her features. "Are you sure?" She pressed gently, not used to this awkwardness from her teammate.

"I... yeah, I'm sure." She retorted, her voice tinged with irritation.

"Okay..." Y/N trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. Sensing the dismissiveness between them, she offered a hesitant smile before turning back to where she had been talking with Lia.

As her housemate walked away, Beth's expression hardened, a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she shouldn't act like this towards her, but her words had really struck a nerve for some reason and it was hard to pretend it didn't.

The drive home on the bus wasn't that different, though the atmosphere was more subdued due to the loss. Y/N and Kyra were seated next to each other, Katie and Caitlin sitting on the other side of them.

''You alright, Y/N?'' Caitlin asked, noticing the youngster's quietness.

Y/N looked up, glancing away from her nails to the older Australian player. She hesitated answering, not knowing if it was appropriate to say anything about her interaction with Beth.

She sat up straight and motioned for the three of them to huddle together over the small table. They got her message and did just that.

''Did anything happen on the bench or something? Cause I had this weird exchange with Meado, and it's just stuck in my head.'' She explained, her voice hushed.

They all frowned at her words. ''No, she was just frustrated about the game, but so was everyone else.'' Caitlin responded.

''What happened?'' Katie chimed in, curious to know about this exchange.

''I don't know. She was looking at me in the locker room, and I smiled at her, but she, I don't know, just looked weird at me. I asked her if she was alright, but she was kinda distant with me? She responded a little irritated so I left her alone, but it was weird.'' Y/N gave a small summary of the interaction.

"That is strange." Kyra mused, breaking the silence that had settled over their huddle.

They nodded at her words, agreeing with the young Australian.

''I didn't notice anything.'' Caitlin said with a pout, feeling sorry she couldn't help her younger teammate out. ''Me neither, kiddo.'' Katie added, a similar expression on her face.

Y/N smiled sadly, disappointed she wasn't any wiser on Beth. Katie rubbed her arm once she noticed her dejected expression. ''Hey, I wouldn't worry about it. It's a tough loss.''

The youngster nodded at the Irishwoman's words. ''Yeah, you're right.''

Katie was not right.

As soon as she got in the car with the beloved couple it was clear that something had gone down for them to act in such a sour mood. Vivianne's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, while Beth stared out of the window, her expression unreadable.

Sensing the palpable tension, Y/N shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The youngster wanted to break the silence, but the words wouldn't come out. It felt like they were stuck in her throat.

The drive home felt like forever. Every minute made the atmosphere worse. Y/N tried to catch Vivianne or Beth's eye, hoping for some sign that things would get better, but there was nothing.

Car rides after losses were never filled with much conversation, but it had never been like this.

A wave of relief went through her as the car was parked in front of their apartment complex, longing for the comfort of her room where she could hide from whatever the situation was.

Y/N couldn't even come up with a guess on what had transpired. Did they have a fight? Did she do something? Did someone else do something?

She had absolutely no clue.

However, the tension seemed to follow them into their shared home. The silence had become even more deafening with each step they took.

Beth disappeared into her room without a word, while Vivianne headed straight for the kitchen, her movements stiff and mechanical. Y/N stood in the hallway, feeling like an outsider in her own home.

Their behaviors made her feel anxious, feeling that knot inside her stomach. What had happened during the game? What had caused them to retreat into themselves like this?

Unable to handle any of it longer, Y/N tentatively approached the Dutchwoman in the kitchen. "Um, Viv?" She began, her voice small.

Vivianne glanced up, her expression guarded. "Yeah?” She replied, accent heavy.

The younger girl hesitated, unsure of how to broach the subject. "I, uh, did, uh, something happen at the game?" She stammered, her words stumbling over each other in her haste to get everything out.

The striker's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you talking about?” She asked, her face neutral.

Her response only added to the youngest one's confusion. It seemed as though they were both dancing around a subject neither wanted to address.

"I-I just... noticed things were a bit off between everyone after the match," Y/N explained, her voice barely above a whisper, "and, well, the car ride home was... a bit weird, you know.”

Vivianne's expression softened slightly, though her guard remained up. ''Don't worry about it. Just… frustration from the game.''

But Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just frustration. She wanted to press further, but the fear of causing further conflict held her back.

Instead, she offered a hesitant nod. ''Okay, good.'' She murmured to the floor, retreating back to her room with a heavy heart.

The Arsenal homegrown player pulled her phone out of her pocket, searching up Kyra's contact. It only took a few rings for the Australian to pick up, she was probably already on her phone as she was called.

''Hey.'' Her accent momentarily bringing a smile to Y/N's face.

''Hey, you're home?''

''Yeah, just arrived. What's up?''

There was a brief pause before Y/N continued. ''Things have gotten a bit weirder since, uh, on the bus.''

''Shit. What happened?'' She asked, her voice filled with genuine worry.

''It's just... the tension at home is almost suffocating," she explained, ''it was completely silent the entire time we were driving home, and when we got home, Beth immediately went to her room. I tried to ask Viv about, but she told me it was just frustrations, but it clearly is not just that.''

There was a moment of silence as Kyra processed Y/N's words. "That doesn't sound good," she finally replied, ''you really have no idea what might have happened? Maybe they had a fight or something?''

Y/N shook her head, even though her teammate couldn't see it. "No, that's the thing. I'm completely lost." She admitted, frustration lacing her words.

''Same. I wish I knew what to say to help.'' Kyra said softly.

''It's alright, Ky. Thanks for letting me ramble.'' Y/N chuckled, appreciating the opportunity to unload her worries onto her friend.

''It's fine, honestly. It must not be fun to be in this situation,'' the Matilda replied, feeling for her friend, ''if anything else happens you can always let me know, okay? I'm gonna have some dinner now.''

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ky. I really appreciate it.”

''Anytime. Take care, I'll see you at training.''

''You too. Bye, bye.'' They bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Y/N prepared to leave her room again, wanting to check if Vivianne had started dinner yet or not.

Just as she stepped into the hallway, she nearly collided with Beth, who was coming out of her room with a tight-lipped expression. The sudden encounter caught them both off guard.

''Shit, sorry.'' The younger one apologized first, giving her housemate an awkward glance.

''It's alright,'' Beth brushed off, ''uh, were you on the phone just now?" She asked, her brow furrowing slightly.

Y/N nodded. ''Uh, yeah, with Kyra.''

Beth's expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her features. "Oh, Kyra." She murmured, her voice tight.

The younger girl simply stared at the winger, not knowing what to say to her words. "Is everything okay?" Y/N ventured, her voice hesitant as she searched Beth's face for any sign of what might be bothering her.

Beth's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she seemed lost in thought. When she finally spoke, her words were tinged with a hint of irritation. ''Everything's alright.''

Y/N offered a small, uneasy smile and nodded. "Oh, okay." She said, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

With a nod of acknowledgment, Beth turned to walk away. As she watched Beth disappear around the corner, she wondered if it had been something she had done. However, she couldn't recall saying or doing anything that day that would have provoked this kind of demeanor from the couple.

The young striker walked into the living room, noticing Vivianne bustling about in the kitchen. But what caught Y/N's attention was the hushed whispers exchanged between the couple, Beth and Vivianne not being subtle about their gossiping.

A sense of discomfort washed over the youngster as she hesitated in the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt or retreat unnoticed. But before she could make a decision, the Dutchwoman glanced up and caught her eye, her expression inscrutable.

''Hey, dinner is almost ready. Just some leftover pasta from yesterday.'' She informed Y/N, her tone somewhat forced as she attempted to maintain a facade of normalcy.

Y/N forced a smile. ''Nice, thanks, Viv.'' She answered, trying to ignore the awkwardness that hung in the air.

She retreated to the couch, feeling as if she wasn't welcome in the small space. Something was off, and she couldn't help but feel like she was on the outside looking in.

She scrolled on her phone for a few minutes before Vivianne called her to the table as the food was ready. As they gathered around the dinner table, the atmosphere remained strained, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

Vivianne served up the leftover pasta, her movements brisk as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. Beth sat across from Y/N, her expression unreadable as she picked at her food.

Y/N tried to focus on her food, but the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach made it difficult to swallow.

For a few moments, the only sound was the clinking of forks against plates, the silence punctuated only by the occasional awkward cough or clearing of throat.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Y/N opened her mouth. "So, um, what did you guys think about the match?'' She asked the pair, her voice coming out more high than she had intended.

As if on cue, Vivianne and Beth glanced up from their plates at the same time.

''It was tough, but it shouldn't have been tough. We lacked a clear tactic.'' The experienced striker answered, filling up the silence.

Y/N nodded, relieved at least one of them responded to her attempt at conversation. She took a peek at Beth, who did not seem amused in the slightest to talk about the surprising defeat earlier that day.

''It was just another match of us fucking everything up, and you kids having to unfuck it all.'' Beth said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

The youngest's eyes widened slightly at the cutting remark, not expecting those words to come out of the Brit's mouth.

Vivianne shifted uncomfortably in her seat, casting a quick glance at Y/N before fixing her gaze on her partner. "Beth, that's enough.'' Her voice was stern, warning Beth that this was not the way to go about this.

But Beth ignored her girlfriend, her eyes fixed on Y/N with an intensity that made her squirm. ''No, she needs to learn to not talk about teammates that way, especially the ones that have just gotten back from serious injuries, and need time to reintegrate into the group.''

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, she cast a desperate look at Vivianne, silently pleading for her to intervene and diffuse the situation before it escalated any further.

''Beth, I wasn't-''

''You weren't what? You weren't talking shit to Kyra about us right after the match? You weren't talking shit about us to Kyra on the phone just now?'' The oldest continued in an accusing tone.

Vivianne let out a sigh, her frustration evident as she attempted to defuse the situation. ''Beth.'' She said firmly, her gaze shifting between the two other people at the table.

''I wasn't talking shit about you guys. I would never do that.'' Y/N managed to let out, offended at the mere idea of her not appreciating the two women who'd let her move in with them a 1,5 years ago.

''Y/N, we heard you. On the pitch after the match, with Kyra.'' Beth responded bluntly.

Y/N swallowed hard, slightly ashamed of being caught. ''We were just... we were just frustrated, okay? That comment wasn't directed at any of you guys, it was more at Jonas, to be fair.''

The couple grew silent at the admission, realizing they had greatly misunderstood the two young girls' conversation. ''About Jonas?'' Vivianne repeated, her voice carrying a note of embarrassment.

The young striker nodded. ''Yeah, me and Kyra have just been a bit upset with our game time, that's all. It felt like a repeat of the Tottenham game.''

Beth and Vivianne exchanged a glance, coming to a silent understanding. ''We're sorry for jumping the gun on that one, darling. We really thought we needed to teach you some manners.'' The Brit nervously apologized with a chuckle.

''It's alright, we probably should've been a bit more discreet.'' Y/N brushed her apology off with a hand gesture.

''No, you two are in your full right to complain.'' Vivianne retorted, agreeing on the playing time matter.

The teenager waited a few moments before elaborating. ''I don't mind sitting on the bench, it's great to get rest, you know? But it almost feels like he doesn't trust me to get the game starting or something. I like to think I did great last season, so this kind of sucks.'' She opened up, not having voiced these thoughts to anyone but Kyra.

''You did amazing last season, you stepped up when we needed someone and the team will never forget that.'' Beth smiled, squeezing the youngster' s hand.

''It seems that Jonas forgot.'' Y/N muttered bitterly, looking down at her empty plate.

The couple silenced themselves at her mumbled words, not knowing what the appropriate response would be to cheer her up about the situation. They were indirectly responsible for the young girl to not get as much game time anymore, so whatever they would tell her, she would most likely not feel much better afterwards.

''Just focus on what you're doing right now. Show up to training, recover well, maximize everything in the minutes you do get. Show him that he should trust you to start, and that you deserve to have that spot in the line-up.'' Vivianne chimed in, her voice soft but resolute.

Y/N nodded at the older woman's words, though her demeanor still seemed dejected. ''Yeah, I'll continue to do that.'' It came out somewhat passive aggressive.

''I know it doesn't fix the situation, but you're my personal star girl, regardless whether you play or not.'' Beth softly smiled at her.

The teen managed to crack a small smile back, appreciating the sentiment. ''Thanks, Beth.''

''You're mine too.'' Vivianne added.

''Hey, that's my compliment for her! Find another one if you want to be cute!'' Beth scolded her partner, dramatically feigning annoyance.

The Dutchwoman frowned. ''Everyone calls her ‘star girl'! You're not original either!'' She pouted back.

Y/N couldn't help but let out a chuckle at the banter between the couple, happily accepting the momentary distraction from her frustrations.

Beth playfully rolled her eyes. ''At least I'm complimenting her!''

''Sorry that I was just giving useful advice, Bethany.'' Vivianne retorted.

''Useful.'' The Brit repeated, her voice heavily tinged with sarcasm.

Vivianne's mouth gaped, pretending to be offended. ''It was useful! That's what I would have wanted to hear at 19 year-old.'' She defended herself.

''19 year-old's want to hear praise, Viv. They want to be called star girls, not receive a lecture.'' Beth quickly replied, with a smirk.

''Y/N, it was useful, right?'' The older striker turned towards the teenager.

''Yeah, Y/N, tell Miss Miedema how useful her advice was.'' Beth chorused her words, grinning from ear-to-ear.

The youngster simply glanced between the two of them, before picking up her empty plate and standing up from her seat. ''I'm taking this as my sign to leave.''

She ignored their pleas with a satisfied grin, making her way to the kitchen to dump her plate, and walking back to her room.

The couple watched her depart, sharing a knowing look, a hint of amusement dancing in their eyes. ''She's gonna call Kyra, isn't she?'' Vivianne chuckled.

''She so is.'' Beth agreed with a laugh.

requests are always welcome!

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #beth mead x reader #vivianne miedema x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #meadema

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saturnrevolution · 10 months

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Jupiter through houses

Jupiter in the 1st house

You are a curious person, always looking for the next activity that will help expand your identity. The negative manifestation of your Jupiter sign is a tendency to focus a lot on other people’s perception of you and allow opinions to say who you are. When you are in your power, you don’t express yourself by societal definitions, but create new ways from within. You are also vouching for justice and you take life as an adventure. Most blessings come to you when you are willing to learn, when you are open to knowledge, you travel and explore through experimenting. You create your own luck by shining bright.

Jupiter in the 2nd house

When it comes to receiving from the Universe, you have this ability to allow abundance, especially material and financial, to come to you. You do this best when you are letting things unfold, when you are living in the present moment and have a positive outlook on life. It’s important to follow your values and philosophies. Financial gain can come to you fast, but you can also spend it just as fast. So, it’s important to be disciplined in your ways, while still allowing yourself the freedom to do whatever you want. Invest in things that help you grow and build your independence, as later on you might be a strong pillar for others.

Jupiter in the 3rd house

Your words matter, sharing your wisdom with the world is part of what brings you luck and abundance. There needs to be a fair balance between what it is you speak up on and how much you hold in. You can find wealth in your hometown or home country. Short distance travels help you refresh your mind and put you in a good mood. You could become a teacher or coach, however you need your words to be heard. You have the ability to manifest through your thinking, so know that negative thoughts will expand in more negative thoughts. Write them down and let them go, then focus on the things you are grateful for to succeed.

Jupiter in the 4th house

Your luck comes from your ancestors. Your lineage is protecting you and wants you to succeed. Whenever you spend time connecting to your roots, your culture or living place, you discover new sides of yourself. Speaking on your goals with family and loved ones helps you manifest them. You might sometimes get stuck in a victim-like mentality, so make sure you are surrounded by people that support you. Having a home that makes you feel inspired is crucial, decorate it in a way that helps you shine. Spending time in your own comfort is restoring, but taking risks is too. You might move abroad or live abroad one day.

Jupiter in the 5th house

Whenever you nurture your inner child, you are on the path to success. You are someone that enjoys the little things in life, that wants adventure and passion. You are creative and talented, and your expression speaks louder than words. However, sometimes you might take your talents for granted and not nourish them enough. While it’s amazing to have fun, discipline would be a game-changer for you. You sometimes find abundance through romance, but do not give your power away by not setting boundaries. Value yourself. Take yourself on dates, do those things you loved as a child, your passions and dreams will unfold.

Jupiter in the 6th house

There is nothing more healing for you than living with intention. Caring for your body and health, offering yourself what you need is putting you on the right path. However, overindulging or over-worrying or stress puts you off your path. This is why, the best approach is to create a routine that you truly resonate with. Find the things that work for you on a daily basis, listen to what your body needs, and find ways to make every activity feel like it was made for you. You like music? Listen to it while you cook, offer love to little things, and you will gain it back. Your ability to get disciplined will offer you success.

Jupiter in the 7th house

Why is it that others are able to see your warmth, but for you, it’s much harder? Whenever you connect to others, you spend time with people that make you smile and feel empowered, you thrive and attract abundance. Abundance can come in the form of people too, collaborations, projects that just take off. However, if you spend your energy on people that drain you or make you doubt, you will attract more lessons. Your knowledge is contagious, accept the side of you which thrives and allow positivity to come in. This way, you will live the life you have always imagined and attract love from in and out.

Jupiter in the 8th house

Some people are scared to dive deep. But not you. Your inner world is one of the most valuable tools you have. If you focus on your negative feelings towards a situation, those feelings will grow. However, if you focus on what makes you feel good, what offers your life meaning and purpose, you will attract blessings. You have the ability to shine alight on what seems dark, you have the ability to trigger people in realizing what they need. Whenever you research into the occult, taboo subjects, or you bring up difficult subjects, you are able to make others feel seen. Just open up more, people are waiting for your ideas.

Jupiter in the 9th house

You are a teacher and a student of life. You are someone who is able to create wonderful stories through living their life and then share their knowledge in concepts that inspire others. You are able to change paradigms if you allow yourself to truly believe in your philosophies. However, you need to also open yourself up to other people’s ideas as a way of relating to people. You attract blessings through studying, travel or reading. While your experiences are important, be careful not to get so lost in this search for meaning that you neglect those that want to be a part of your success. Stop and look back at times.

Jupiter in the 10th house

You career is where you are lucky and will receive blessings in this lifetime. You have the ability to reach your goals, as many opportunities are aligning for you. However, it’s yup to you to decide which ones are here to help you grow and which ones are selling a false promise. You could be a leader or thrive in a management position. The best way to reach your success is by not getting carried away with work so much that you forget to play. It’s in those moments of rest and contemplation when inspiration comes to you, and when you offer yourself the space to push forward. Dream big, rest bigger.

Jupiter in the 11th house

You are blessed in this lifetime with many life-changing connections. You have the ability to create friends wherever you go and to seek their support whenever you are in need. However, be careful with setting boundaries. When you feel you are tired or you simply want to be alone, allow yourself that space. Blessings come to you when you spend time in communities of people that share the same interests as you. You could easily become influential online by speaking on your beliefs. Allow growth to happen by trusting your authentic self and showing up as it in front of others. You could also become an activist.

Jupiter in the 12th house

Your inner wisdom is the most subtle thing about you, but also the most valuable. Whenever you take decisions based on your intuition is when you thrive. You have the ability to evolve spiritually, if you just allow yourself to face your shadows. Sometimes it might feel as though it’s harder to tap into your luck, but the truth is that the power lies in your hands. Daydreaming can be a great tool of manifesting, although sometimes you might forget to take care of your body. Find a balance between the ethereal and the physical world and you will thrive. Meditating and breathing techniques are your best friends.

#astrology #jupiter #like #houses #posted

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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washing machine malfunction II m.earps x reader

based on this request here washing machine malfunction II m.earps

"taking footage to scout with are you?" your best friend teased as you filmed a clip of the game, smacking her knee and sending her a playful glare. "no! proving to mary i sat through the entire game." you quipped back, sending the video to your girlfriend and pocketing your phone.

"oh sorry are we not up to your standards? do you only watch games at old trafford or wembley now?" your best friend cooed pinching your cheek sharply. "yes actually, or at least where they have actual toilet blocks and not portaloos." your face scrunched up with disgust.

"hey if you'd like to donate some money toward that we'd be very grateful, not every womens team gets funding you know." your best friend huffed as you frowned and squeezed her knee.

"i'm only teasing. you know i'm happy to be here, just wish i was watching you yell at people on the pitch and not at me for once!" you sighed as the girl scoffed and smacked you, she was normally the captain but was out in a boot having sprained her ankle last week.

"so where are you coming on the table?" you clarified, eyes set back on the match unfolding in front of you. "third, but its only the fourth round of the season. lots can change!" the brunette admitted as the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

"okay no offence to you and your entire team but your keeper kept you all alive this game, it should be 5-0." you whistled as the second half started to wind down.

"of course you favour the keeper, what a shock!" your best friend drawled sarcastically with a roll of her eyes as the whistle blew for full time and a 0-0 draw.

"hey just because my girlfriend is a golden glove holding, bbc sports personality of the year winning, world cup finalist and champion of europe with a tram named after her doesn't mean im bias to keepers!" you grinned holding your hands up as your best friend rolled your eyes.

"oh but you don't brag about her right." the girl mocked with a pout as your grin grew. "only to those who have no choice but to listen, i'd like to see you try and run away from me." you gently nudged your toe against her moon boot as she shoved you.

"you know you could always play with us next season! reallyyy make the girlfriend proud, i can see mary being a very loyal wag." the girl teased as you laughed sarcastically. "you couldn't afford my salary." you shrugged with a click of your tongue.

"more like we couldn't afford your two left feet and lack of hand eye coordination." the girl snickered gesturing for you to help her up. "yeah that too." you had no choice but to agree with a grimace, tugging her up and carefully helping her down toward the barrier.

you stood by as she gave a speech, commending the girls on their efforts as your phone buzzed and you looked down with a smile seeing it was a few messages from your girlfriend.

"god you're so in love its disgusting, get a grip!" you glanced back up and pocketed your phone, playfully punching your best friend in the arm as you waited for her to finish speaking with some of her team, having driven her to the game.

"you can tell us all about what we did wrong at training! stop making your poor mate wait around for you to run your mouth." the keeper from the game warned with a grin as she joined the small huddle you were in.

"you were perfect as per usual, only feedback is maybe score from the box next time? make the game a little spicy!" your best friend teased the taller girl who rolled her eyes. "no seriously you played great! that dive in injury time was textbook and that penalty save? world cup stuff." you complimented with a wide smile.

"and she'd know, her girlfriends played in one so thats high praise." your best friend interjected shoving your head playfully. "wait seriously? talk about a dream!" the girl exhaled with a whistle and a grin.

"well then since you clearly have a good eye for talent-" the girl paused to tug off her jersey, handing it to you with a grin before hugging the girls goodbye and heading off. "we best be off to, i'll see you all monday. i'll bring my whistle!" your best friend teased as the girls groaned, you waving goodbye as the two of you headed off to your car.

"i'd be leaving that in the car if you know whats good for you." your best friend nodded to the jersey on your back seat as you pulled a face and started up the car. "what! why?" you laughed as you drove off.

"umm because your girlfriend is a world class keeper and you just took a keepers jersey from someone else." your best friend hinted. "mary won't care! she's all for more girls wanting to be keepers and she loves the womens game." you rolled your eyes as your best friend only hummed, swiftly changing topics.

"maz? baby i'm home!" you called out as you let yourself in, unwrapping your scarf and hanging it up on the hook. "two seconds love!" you heard your girlfriend call out from the laundry as you took off your shoes.

"hello beautiful!" the brunette appeared with a grin, placing down a basket of clean laundry on the sofa and opening her arms as you melted into them. "you smell nice." you mumbled into her shoulder making the taller girl laugh.

"ah yes the wonders of soap and shampoo!" the keeper teased, kissing you hello before pulling away. "and she's doing laundry? house wife in the making over here!" you teased, smacking her playfully on the bum with a wink.

"oi! watch it cheeky." mary warned with a point, sitting down on the sofa as you leant over the back of it to peck her lips several times. "whats that babe?" mary noticed the jersey tucked into the back of your pants as you walked into the kitchen.

"oh! well the keeper of saf's team is like insane for the league level they play. i'm serious it could have been like twenty to nothing if she wasn't on her game. we were talking after the game and she gave me her jersey!" you shrugged, dropping the item onto the counter as you rummaged through the fridge, missing the look which crossed your girlfriends face.

"oh? thats nice." mary replied bluntly as you glanced at her with a small frown. "yeah it was." you shrugged it off, grabbing it and tossing it into the dirty basket of laundry.

"how was your afternoon?" you changed topics, grabbing out the stuff to make you and mary a cup of tea. "yeah fine, went shopping with tooney and had to make a last minute excuse to leave because she takes forever! so on the rare chance she asks, you're deathly ill and needed me back home." mary groaned dramatically, head thumping back against the sofa.

"like worse than you and thats saying something!" mary tutted as you made a noise of offence. "hey! if i have to sit in a sports store for two hours while you try on every fucking pair of gloves known to man and then buy none of them, you can carry my bags and sit on a comfy little waiting chair while i try a few outfits." you warned seriously as your girlfriend held her hands up in surrender.

"especially when some of those 'outfits' i spend hours trying on are for you." you hinted, handing her the mug of tea as a smug smile settled on the keepers lips.

"mm yeah we haven't been that sort of shopping for awhile, you free tomorrow baby?" mary grinned wolfishly as you flipped her off and settled into the section of the sofa that wasn't covered in laundry and flicking on the tv.

"change, put this on please babe." mary tugged on the bottom of your shirt, dropping a new item of clothing onto your head. "urgh mary!" you huffed, pulling it off and sending her a glare as she grinned at you with a mouthful of toothpaste.

"why do i need to change?" you noticed what she'd given you and asked with a knowing smile. "i don't like that shirt." mary shrugged pointing to your current top with her foot as she sat up on the counter brushing her teeth.

"its your shirt!" you laughed with a shake of your head. "then i want it back, so change." mary ordered, leaning over the sink and spitting. "what if i don't want to wear this?" you egged her on, holding up the jersey inbetween your fingers like it disgusted you.

"then go pick another one, theres about twenty or so in there you can choose from." mary shrugged nodding to her side of the closet where the jerseys she'd chosen to keep over the years hung proudly, rinsing out her mouth and stepping out of the bathroom.

"mmm i actually think i might go put on that jersey from today, saf's team just played so well." you stripped off your top and took a few steps back, watching your girlfriends eyes drop immediately to your chest.

"you know on second thoughts love i actually don't think you need to wear anything at all." you laughed as mary tackled you to the bed, attacking your face with kisses as you squealed and pushed her off. "you hate that i took that girls jersey today don't you?" you moved to sit on top of her with a grin.

"no!" mary rolled her eyes, reaching out for you as you grabbed her hands and pressed them into the mattress. "yes you are, admit it. you hate it, the thought of me wearing someone elses kit!" you teased with a smirk, pressing down her hands harder.

"okay well can you blame me? you're my girlfriend and you wear my jersey. nobody elses!" mary huffed with a frown as you smiled and leant down to kiss away her pout. "you're such a baby, its adorable." you mumbled against her lips.

"i am not! god you're such a wind up." mary pulled her hands free and flipped the two of you, hovering over you now as she ducked her head and started to gently kiss at your neck.

"and tomorrow the washing machine is going to malfunction and that girls jersey will sadly be gone."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso community #engwnt #woso blurbs

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winterrrnight · 3 months

Text

“here we are again” — new beginnings chapter II

PAIRING: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader

WARNINGS: none!

EDITH SPEAKS: hello mls! I hope you enjoy reading this chapter <3 just a lil note: updates will get a bit sporadic for the upcoming week or so because I have some big things coming up which unfortunately require more attention than my silly little fics :( I greatly apologise for that, but let me tell you once I'm free I'll have great fics awaiting you all!!

please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading and don't hesitate to let me know any of your thoughts 💕💕

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You let out a huge sigh as you lean back in your chair and close your eyes shut. You’ve been trying to find a good preschool for Sage, after you had to pull her out of the one she was earlier in because their fees increased exponentially, and unfortunately you haven’t been earning enough to support Sage going to such an expensive school.

“Mamma mamma!” You hear her call you out from a different room. Her footsteps are audible as she comes running to you, basically banging the floor with her feet.

“Mamma!” She says, smiling wide, standing next to the front legs of your chair and tugging on your pants. You look down at her and plaster a big smile on your face, picking her up and placing her on your lap.

“Yes baby?” You coo, leaning to press a kiss on her soft cheek, which is tinted a light pink.

“I made something for you! You have to see it now,” she says, now tugging on your crewneck. You get up from your chair, Sage on your hip as you go to the room she was just in.

You set her down on the floor, and she picks up a folded paper. “Here,” she grins, and you take the paper from her.

You unfold it and you see a drawing of you, her, and one strange man standing next to the two of you. She’s colored in the drawings, her colors going out of her drawn lines, assuming their own directions, but nevertheless, you can’t help but grin wide at the present.

“Sage baby,” you get on your knees in front of her, “this is so cute! You’re my talented little kiddo, aren’t you?” You smile, tickling her sides. She laughs and squirms to get away from you, her little hands trying to swat you away.

“But who is that?” You ask, pointing at the drawing of the strange man.

“Fafe!” She yells excitedly.

“Fafe? Who’s ‘Fafe’ baby?”

“We met him, at the, at the store! He was big, veryyy big!”

And suddenly it strikes you. The handsome, handsome man who you met at the grocery store. It’s been around a week since that day and you had nearly forgotten about him.

Nearly.

Until this exact moment.

Now everything comes back to you; the exact moment you saw him, your eyes sinking into his, your heart beating so loud it might as well jump out of your chest.

“I remember him baby, why did you draw him?”

“Because, because he was very nice to me,” she says, her hands at her back as she’s swaying side to side in her position.

You aren’t sure what to reply to her with. She drew a man you met and didn’t even talk for more than five minutes on a random Tuesday, and showed you three being a family.

Dad, mom, and Sage. A family.

Is she expecting you two to just get married to him? To bring him in your house this quick?

But, at the end of the day, she’s a four year old little girl, with a wild imagination, and a desire to have a father figure in her life.

You’ve tried your level best to never let Sage feel the lack of a father in her life, but you always knew deep in your heart that one day, she will wonder why she only has a single parent, and why can’t she have two parents like all her friends. But you never expected this day to come so early.

You shake your head and come back to reality, and let a smile pull onto your lips. “I’ll hang this on the fridge next to all your other art,” you tell her, and she jumps up and down with excitement. You make your way to your kitchen, your daughter on your heels as she’s giggling, and you pin her drawing up with a magnet next to the rest. You take a step back to admire the splash of colors on your fridge door, your heart feeling content.

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You smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, and tie the bow of her dress tightly. Sage is especially giggly today, your hands roaming over her little body which constantly creates a tickling sensation on her skin.

“Mamma, where are we going?” She asks you, carefully pocketing a candy you gave her. You pick her up and take her to your kitchen island, settling her in her chair to hand her her cereal.

“We’re going to a new school baby,” you say, pouring milk into her bowl and mixing it well with her fruit loops.

“But, I love home,” she puts, her eyes big and wide, and you know she’s trying her best to convince you to stay at home by putting on a puppy dog face.

“You know that face doesn’t work on me,” you smile, sitting next to her, and gently smoothing a hand over her hair. She only giggles as her answer and you pick up her spoon, and start to feed her. Even though she knows how to eat on her own, you’re worried she might get messy and spill the milk on her dress.

You were worried she might not like the idea of going to a new school. She really liked the previous one, but you knew you couldn’t keep her in there for long. But here she is sitting next to you, eating her cereal as excitedly as if you’re about to go to an amusement park.

Once she’s done eating, you both leave for the school. This one also happens to be closer to your home than the last one, so you're quick to reach there. You help Sage get out of the car, her light bag hanging on her shoulders and her hand securely in yours, as you lead her to the main doors of the school.

When you go inside, the receptionist leads you to the classroom Sage has been assigned to. A few children are sitting on the floor of the classroom, empty white sheets spread around them along with unopened boxes of paint.

You hear Sage audibly gasp as she notices all the art supplies, her eyes shining with a desire to create art. You look around the classroom to spot a teacher, but there’s no one to be seen.

You decide to maybe talk to the receptionist once again; maybe she’s making a mistake? You leave Sage in the classroom and turn around, and almost in the next fraction of the second you bang into a broad chest.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry!” You grunt, your eyes closed from the impact. You run a hand over your forehead, feeling a slight pain from your collision into the broad and muscular chest.

You finally open your eyes, and you see the last person you would expect to be here.

“Rafe?”

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what do you all think Rafe is doing there? 🤭

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hoshifighting · 4 months

Text

The Biggest Fanboy

Synopsis: Sooyoung, a loyal fanboy, expressed his admiration for you, his favorite choreographer through social media and DMs. The dynamic unfolds as you, the choreographer, surprises Sooyoung with a visit to his dance studio.

Word count: 6.4k

Reader! Famous choreographer, Hoshi! Her biggest fanboy, also a dance studio owner

Warnings: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), lap dance, dancing sex? Soonyoung is WHIPPED and also a good boy!, unprotected sex, hair pulling, praising, they run away from his studio, intense sex.

As Y/N, a renowned choreographer with a string of successes in the world of dance, you've always been dedicated to your craft. In the bustling metropolis, your fame has reached unexpected heights, attracting fans from all walks of life. Among them is Kwon Sooyoung, a talented dancer who, to your surprise, happens to be a fanboy of your work.

Sooyoung, the proud owner of a prominent dance studio in the heart of the city, has made his admiration for your choreography evident through social media and interviews. His posts and comments on your platforms are a testament to his genuine appreciation for your artistry. Despite the virtual nature of your interactions, there's a unique connection that has developed between you and Sooyoung over the years.

The dance community buzzes with excitement whenever Sooyoung shares his thoughts about your latest creations. His loyalty is unwavering, and his dreams of meeting you one day are a constant thread in his online presence. The friendly exchanges in your direct messages have become a regular occurrence, and he never misses an opportunity to extend an invitation for you to visit his studio.

One day, with a break in your busy schedule, you decide to surprise Sooyoung and make good on his invitation. The metropolis stretches out before you as you arrive at his studio, a sleek and modern space with glass walls that offer glimpses of dancers in various stages of practice. The energy is palpable as you walk through the hallway, admiring the dedication of those who share the same passion for movement.

The receptionist welcomes you warmly, explaining that Sooyoung is currently teaching a class. She gestures down the hallway, directing you to the last room on the right where you can observe the class in session. As you make your way, the sound of music and the rhythmic beat of dancing feet grow louder.

As you sat on the bench, Sooyoung wrapped up the dance class, you couldn't help but be enchanted by the scene before you. The little girls, with beaming smiles, gathered around him like a flock of eager butterflies drawn to the warmth of his presence. Sooyoung, wearing that bright pink ballet skirt over his black sweatpants with an air of confidence, embodied a perfect blend of professionalism and playfulness.

The music faded, and Sooyoung, with his infectious energy, announced, "It's time to say goodbye, girls!" The children, bubbling with enthusiasm, rushed toward him, calling out, "Uncle Soonyoung!" Your heart warmed as you witnessed the genuine affection they held for him.

One by one, Sooyoung embraced each child, lifting them off the ground and spinning them in his arms. Laughter filled the room as he playfully interacted with each girl, making sure to pat their heads and exchange a few words before letting them go. His genuine care and affection for his young students were palpable.

Observing this heartwarming spectacle, You couldn't help but be captivated by Sooyoung's ability to create a nurturing and joyous environment in his dance studio. The way he effortlessly connected with the children showcased not only his skills as a dancer but also his genuine love for teaching and mentoring.

As the last of the children leave the room, Sooyoung takes a moment to catch his breath and rehydrate. He reaches for a water bottle, taking a sip as he absentmindedly scrolls through his phone, unaware of the surprise awaiting him.

Meanwhile, you stand outside the glass wall, arms crossed, and a wide grin on your face. The anticipation builds as you patiently wait for Sooyoung to look up and notice your presence.

Finally, as if prompted by some invisible cue, Sooyoung's gaze shifts from his phone to the room beyond. His peripheral vision catches a glimpse of your figure, and he does a double-take. The water bottle pauses mid-air as he raises his eyes, and a gasp escapes him. His eyes widen in disbelief, and he chokes on his water at the unexpected sight of you.

Coughing and sputtering, Sooyoung quickly puts down the water bottle, his expression evolving from surprise to sheer excitement. His eyes lock with yours through the glass, and a mix of emotions plays on his face—joy, disbelief, and genuine happiness. His phone slips from his hand, momentarily forgotten as he rushes to the door, his eyes fixed on you. "Y/n?" Oh my goodness, what are you doing here?" Sooyoung stammered. The little girls' earlier cries of 'Uncle Soonyoung' are now replaced by the pulsating beat of your name on his lips. "I never thought you'd actually come."

"Well, here I am," you answer, you can't help but smile at his reaction, appreciating the sincerity in his voice. "Well, I figured it was about time I took you up on that invitation," you reply with a playful glint in your eyes "your enthusiasm on social media finally convinced me."

Sooyoung laughs, a joyful sound that fills the room. "I can't believe you saw all those fangirl comments and actually decided to visit. This is amazing!"

You can't help but chuckle at Sooyoung's sudden self-awareness as he glances around, perhaps noticing your gaze lingering on his choice of attire. "I'm sorry, I must look like a mess after the class." He apologizes with a sheepish grin, acknowledging the contrast between the bright pink ballet skirt and the practical black sweatpants.

"Oh, don't apologize at all," you assure him, your smile widening. "I think it's a bold fashion statement. Shows you're not afraid to have a little fun, even while teaching."

Sooyoung relaxes a bit, the corners of his mouth turning up in relief. "Yeah, it's a little tradition I have with the kids. They love it when I wear something unexpected. Keeps the energy high, you know?"

You nod in understanding, appreciating the effort he puts into creating a lively and enjoyable atmosphere for his students. The vibrant pink skirt becomes a symbol of his dedication and connection with the kids he teaches.

Sooyoung beams with pride, leading you further into the dance studio. "I've been following your work for years, and having you here is like a dream come true for me and the kids."

"Thank you for making the time to come here. My students are going to lose their minds when they find out you're here," he says, excitement evident in his voice.

You wave off his gratitude with a smile, appreciating the genuine excitement in Sooyoung's voice. "It's my pleasure. I've heard so much about your studio, and I couldn't resist seeing it for myself."

As you walk through the vibrant space, the walls echoing with the sounds of laughter and the rhythmic steps of dance, you can feel the energy and passion that permeate the studio.

"Guess who's here, everyone?" Sooyoung exclaims, and the anticipation in the room builds.

The students exchange curious glances until their eyes fall upon you, the famous choreographer they've likely seen on screens and admired from a distance. The realization dawns on them, and the room buzzes with excitement.

As the students express their awe and gratitude, you find yourself surrounded by a group of enthusiastic young dancers eager to share their experiences and ask questions. Sooyoung watches with pride as the studio transforms into a hub of excitement and inspiration.

"See what I mean?" Sooyoung says to you with a grin.

[...]

As the clock strikes 10 pm, you check your phone and realize it's time to bid farewell to the lively dance studio. Sooyoung, with a hint of disappointment on his face, accepts the announcement that you need to leave. His shoulders sag a bit, reminiscent of a child whose playtime is coming to an end.

"Thank you so much for coming. This means a lot to all of us," Sooyoung expresses his gratitude once again.

You chuckle at his childlike reaction, finding it endearing. "It was my pleasure, Sooyoung. Your studio is truly something special."

As you gather your things to leave, Sooyoung, with a shy yet hopeful expression, hesitates before making a request. "Um, can I... Can I give you a hug?"

His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and you can't help but find his humility charming. You agree with a warm smile, and he practically beams with joy as he wraps his arms around you. Sooyoung seems to forget the world around him for a moment, reveling in the embrace, and he murmurs a heartfelt thank you.

Stepping back, he seizes the opportunity to extend another invitation, this time to the upcoming spring confraternization of the studio on Saturday. Sooyoung's eyes reflect a mix of hope and excitement as he asks, "Would you like to come? It would mean the world to everyone."

You consider the invitation, appreciating the sincerity in his request. "I'll see if I can make it. If my schedule allows, count me in."

Sooyoung's face lights up with joy once again, and he thanks you eagerly. With a final wave, you exit the dance studio, leaving behind a room filled with memories of unexpected surprises, shared laughter, and the promise of a potential reunion at the upcoming spring event.

As you arrive home, your phone buzzes with excitement, and Sooyoung's name lights up on the screen. With a smile, you open the messages to find a delightful spam of photos, capturing the memorable moments you shared at the dance studio. You respond in kind, sharing some of the photos you took, creating a virtual album of the unexpected day.

Sooyoung comments that a fellow dancer from the studio managed to capture some beautiful shots. Anticipation builds as you wait for the photos to download. When the images finally reveal themselves, there's a heartwarming photo of the two of you hugging and another where you're captured mid-laughter.

"We look good," you reply, adding a playful emoji to convey your delight at the captured moments.

Inspired by the joyous memories, you decide to share a sequence of photos from the day on your social media. The last image in the series is the candid shot of you and Sooyoung wrapped in a warm embrace. In the caption, you express your gratitude, acknowledging Sooyoung's kindness and the incredible day you spent at his studio.

"Such a sweetheart! 🌟 Today was absolutely incredible. Thank you for welcoming me so warmly, Sooyoung" you write, accompanied by a heart emoji.

The post quickly garners attention, with friends, fans, and followers expressing their admiration for the dynamic duo and the evident connection between the famous choreographer and the dedicated dance studio owner.

Sooyoung's excitement reaches new heights as he sees your post on social media, featuring the photos of the two of you hugging. In a burst of enthusiasm, he can't contain himself and immediately shows the post to Seungkwan and Dokyeom, eager to share the unexpected turn of events.

"Guys, look at this!" Sooyoung exclaims, waving his phone at his friends. "Guess who just posted pictures of us hugging?"

Seungkwan and Dokyeom lean in to get a better look, their curiosity piqued. As the images appear on the screen, they exchange amused glances, clearly entertained by the uproar unfolding in the comments section.

"Soonyoung, you sly dog," Dokyeom teases, nudging him playfully. "Looks like her fanbase is having a field day with this."

Seungkwan adds with a grin, "I knew you had a soft spot for each other. The fans are shipping you two hard."

Sooyoung's cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. "I didn't expect this at all. They really think we look like a couple?"

Dokyeom chuckles, "Well, judging by these comments, they're all in for it. Y'all are becoming a thing, apparently."

Seungkwan joins in the laughter, "Who would've thought? Your crush is now the talk of the country, Sooyoung." The three of them share a moment of camaraderie and amusement as they scroll through the comments, witnessing the unexpected frenzy caused by the seemingly innocent hug.

[...]

Sooyoung had been tapping his feet nervously, anticipation building as he awaited your arrival at the studio's spring event. Throughout the week, your conversations had been filled with uncertainties due to your hectic schedule. He hadn't received a confirmation, leaving him on edge, hoping against hope that you'd show up.

He couldn't help but feel a rush of relief and excitement when he caught sight of you walking towards the studio. With a quick glance in the window's reflection, he hastily adjusted his hair and straightened his shirt, hoping to make a good impression.

As you entered, the energy in the room shifted. The circle of people around you buzzed with excitement, eager to engage with the renowned choreographer in their midst. You graciously greeted them, sharing smiles and warm words, soaking in the atmosphere.

But when your gaze finally met Sooyoung's, his heart skipped a beat. Your bright smile was like a ray of sunshine, and as the crowd parted, you made your way toward him. The circle of people hushed, giving the two of you a moment.

You embraced Sooyoung in a warm hug, and his nerves melted away in that instant. "I'm so glad I could make it," you said softly.

Sooyoung, feeling a rush of emotions, stammered slightly, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I hoped, but... wow."

You chuckled at his flustered reaction, deciding to playfully tease him. "Were you worried I wouldn't show up?"

He blushed, a mix of embarrassment and joy coloring his cheeks. "I, uh, well... maybe a little. It's just... it means a lot that you came."

"Well, you did invite me, didn't you? Couldn't let you down, especially with all these fans waiting to see us together."

Sooyoung, reveling in the playful banter, smirks mischievously in response to your comment. "Oh, I see how it is," he teases, feigning mock offense. "I thought you came just for my dazzling dance moves, not to please the fans." He winks, his tone light and full of humor, "Guess I'll have to step up my game then, huh?"

You raise an eyebrow playfully, your eyes shifting to the big TV across the room where a video from Sooyoung's YouTube channel plays, showcasing his impeccable dance skills to a sensual song. With a sly grin, you suggest, "Maybe you can show me all those dazzling dance moves... when we're alone."

Sooyoung, catching on to the playful tone, licks his lips with a suggestive smirk. "Oh, trust me," he replies, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I've got a whole private playlist of moves that haven't made it to YouTube yet. Maybe you'll get an exclusive performance sometime."

In a whispered tease, you say, "Maybe you can give me a private lesson in those unreleased moves later. I'm curious to see if they're as impressive as you claim."

Your sultry suggestion catches Sooyoung off guard, and he sharply inhales, his eyes widening slightly at the unexpected turn in the conversation. "Well, if you're up for it, maybe I'll have to give you a sneak peek right here, right now," he whispers back, his breath warm against your ear.

As you spot Sooyoung's car in the garage, you turn to him with a playful grin. "Are you seriously going to ditch the event like this?" you inquire, raising an eyebrow.

Sooyoung, clicking the car key with a confident smirk, glances at you with a hint of mischief. "Who cares about the event when I can have you all to myself?" he responds, his tone carrying a touch of naughtiness.

His carefree attitude about leaving the event behind to have an intimate moment with you adds to the excitement. The sound of the car unlocking becomes a signal for your private escape.

As you settle into Sooyoung's car, the city lights casting a soft glow on the interior, you turn to him with a teasing smile. "So, why exactly do you want to have me all to yourself?" you ask, raising an eyebrow in playful curiosity.

Sooyoung glances at you, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. "Well," he begins, his tone playfully contemplative, "I thought it'd be a shame to waste such a perfect night on anyone else when I could have your undivided attention."

"Someone's being a bit greedy, wanting me all to themselves. Don't you know how to share?"

Sooyoung, without missing a beat, smirks and replies, "Well, when it comes to you, I don't mind being a little selfish. Can you blame me?"

With a sly grin, you lean in a little closer, your voice taking on a more suggestive tone. "Well, if you're going to be greedy, you better be prepared to handle all of me," you tease, letting the implication hang in the air.

Sooyoung, caught off guard by the unexpected boldness, feels a rush of heat. He glances at you with widened eyes, a mix of surprise and desire evident on his face. The atmosphere in the car becomes charged with a different kind of energy, and you can sense the playful banter taking a more flirtatious turn. Your naughty answer has the desired effect, making Sooyoung's mind race with anticipation as the city lights continue to flicker outside the car window.

As the car comes to a stop at a red signal, you feel Sooyoung's gaze lingering on the exposed skin of your thighs. Sensing his desire, you catch his eye and decide to playfully escalate the teasing. With the tip of your fingers, you subtly pull up the hem of your dress, revealing more of your legs.

Sooyoung, his eyes now fixed on the provocative sight, glances up to meet yours. His gaze darkens with desire, and he inhales sharply. "If you keep teasing me like this," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with a mixture of lust and anticipation, "I can't guarantee I'll be able to wait until we get somewhere."

With a sly smile, you respond to Sooyoung's suggestive remark, "I think I'd prefer a bit more space than a car. Besides, there are some moves I want to show you that might not be suitable for the back seat."

Sooyoung's eyes light up with a mix of excitement and curiosity as he hears your response. "Well, now you've got my attention. What kind of moves are we talking about here?" he asks, a playful grin playing on his lips.

You maintain the sly smile, enjoying the playful banter between you two. "Oh, you'll just have to wait and see. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," you reply, your tone teasing and suggestive.

"Well, then," he says, the anticipation evident in his voice, "where do you suggest we go? I'm up for a little adventure."

Sooyoung's grin widens as you suggest, "How about we continue this adventure at my place?"

His eyes light up with excitement, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds like a plan" he replies, his voice carrying a playful yet eager tone.

You slide your hands to his thigh, a subtle yet unmistakable signal guiding him towards your house. Sooyoung, his mind still buzzing from the teasing and the charged atmosphere, follows your lead.

He turns the car, the familiar quarter of your apartment passing by once again. The combination of the tantalizing proximity and your hand inching higher on his thigh has Sooyoung's concentration wavering. The city lights outside blur as he navigates the familiar route, the rhythm of the car reflecting the heightened pulse of the night.

In the confined space of the elevator, Sooyoung locks eyes with you from across the corner. A charged atmosphere fills the air as the anticipation reaches its peak. With a swift move, Sooyoung steps closer, his eyes conveying an undeniable desire.

Without a word, he surprises you with a passionate tongue kiss, the sudden intensity catching you off guard. His lips meet yours in a heated embrace, and you can feel the hunger in the way he kisses, a mix of desire and urgency. Sooyoung's hands grip you tightly, pulling you closer as the elevator continues its ascent.

As the elevator door opens, you pull Sooyoung with you, still lost in the fervor of the kiss. The two of you stumble towards your apartment door, the intensity of the moment propelling you forward. The keys tremble in your hands as you fumble to unlock the door, the urgency building with each passing second.

Finally, the door swings open, and you practically run inside, eager to feel Sooyoung's lips on yours again. You turn around, your back against the door, your bodies pressed together. Sooyoung wastes no time, and his lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that sends shivers down your spine.

With a subtle yet assertive move, you pull Sooyoung by the hem of his shirt, guiding him towards your room. The anticipation between you two continues to grow, and you have a plan in mind. Once in your room, you reach for your phone, intending to set the mood with a carefully chosen song.

After selecting the perfect track, you toss your phone onto the desk and turn your attention back to Sooyoung. With a teasing smile, you guide him to sit on the bed.

Sooyoung, unable to resist the alluring rhythm of your hips moving in sync with the music, bites his lip in a gesture of both desire and restraint. A moan escapes him, his eyes narrowing with intensity as he gazes at you. His furrowed eyebrows and fluttering eyes betray a mixture of longing and arousal, the unspoken connection between you becoming increasingly palpable.

As the music continues to play, creating a sultry backdrop to the scene, Sooyoung lays on his elbows, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of desire and anticipation. Sensing the connection between you two, you decide to take control, and you hover over him, creating an intimate space between your bodies.

You lift your hips up and down, the rhythm of the motion syncing with the music. He can feel your pussy bumping into his dick on purpose when you swing your ass above his bulge.

Sooyoung, captivated by the intimate dance and the connection between you two, lets out a low, throaty whisper, his voice dripping with desire. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his words revealing the intensity of the sensations that course through him.

His gaze remains locked onto you, a mixture of admiration and longing in his eyes. As the music weaves its way around the room, his hands find a gentle yet firm place on your hips, following the rhythm you've set. The unspoken language of desire fills the air, and in this intimate moment, Sooyoung's words echo the emotions that swirl between you, creating a soundtrack to the shared experience unfolding in the dimly lit room.

The room is filled with a charged silence as you take the hem of your dress and pull it up, revealing yourself naked to Sooyoung. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sharp inhale escapes him as his mouth slightly opens, captivated by the sight before him. The dim lighting accentuates the contours of your figure, casting a sensual glow on the intimate moment.

Sooyoung's eyes widen even further in chock as he realizes you're wearing nothing underneath the dress adds another layer of intensity to the moment.

A soft moan escapes your lips, a natural response to the electrifying contact between his pants and your exposed cunt. The fabric creates a tantalizing friction on your clit, adding a layer of intensity to the sensual dance.

Sooyoung, attuned to your reactions, registers the moan with a mixture of satisfaction and heightened desire. His hands, still firmly placed on your hips, tighten slightly in response to the shared sensations, pulling you closer and pressing you firmly against his bulge.

As Sooyoung takes off his shirt, revealing a sculpted and toned physique, he starts to dance his hips, swaying with a rhythm that mirrors the sultry music playing in the background. The tactile sensation of Sooyoung's rough jeans against your pussy adds a heightened dimension to the dance of desire. The fabric, brushing against you with every movement, creates a tantalizing friction that further amplifies your pleasure.

In the intimate setting, you look into Sooyoung's eyes and, with a sultry tone, express your longing, "Sooyoung-ah, I want more. I want you so bad."

His thumb runs through your folds, then he starts circling your clit, your knees shaking with the sudden contact of his warm skin. Sooyoung, still teasing with his skilled fingers, leans in and asks in a sultry whisper, "Do you really want me?" His question hangs in the air, the room filled with a charged anticipation. Without waiting for a verbal response, he plants a series of sensual kisses along the valley of your breasts.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, you grip Sooyoung's hair firmly, making him hiss. His eyes meet yours, a mix of surprise and desire evident in his gaze. With a sense of urgency, Sooyoung speeds up his actions in response to your moans, each movement adding to the crescendo of desire in the room.

Sooyoung, driven by the escalating desire, pulls you to the edge of the bed. He kneels on the floor, his gaze locking with yours from below. The change in perspective adds an extra layer of intensity to the moment. Your breath catches as Sooyoung's mouth works its magic, each touch and caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. Clit being sucked and flicked with his warm tongue, making you scream his name.

Sooyoung, immersed in the task at hand, closes his eyes, dedicating himself to giving you pleasure. His focused demeanor showcases his commitment, as if it's a ride-or-die mission. You run your fingers gently along his cheek, appreciating the dedication he puts into the moment. A soft laugh escapes you as you observe how intensely he's focused.

With a teasing tone, you praise him, "Soonyoun-gie, you're doing so well for me, such a good boy, the best boy." The words find their way into his consciousness, and his cheeks flush with a delightful shade of red. The combination of your praises and the pleasure he's providing creates a potent mix of sensations on him making him moan, vibrations sent straight to your clit.

As the rhythm of your lungs speeds up, breathing becoming fast and erratic, Sooyoung keenly notices the heightened intensity. In response, he speeds up, gripping your thighs tighter with a determined glare. The acceleration of his movements pushes you to the edge, and the climax arrives with an intensity that takes you by surprise.

As you catch your breath, Sooyoung's gaze meets yours with a satisfaction, and he rises from his kneeling position, a satisfied and content expression on his face. The dimly lit room is filled with a post-climactic tranquility as you catch your breath.

Sooyoung, still close, brushes a gentle kiss against your forehead, a tender gesture that adds to the intimacy of the moment. The air is thick with a shared connection, and a comfortable silence envelops the room.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you suggest, "You deserve a reward," as you notice Sooyoung's pants growing tighter. He chuckles nervously, attempting to decline the offer, "No, no, no need to. I'm satisfied."

Ignoring his protests, you proceed to unbutton his jeans, your hands working with a deliberate intent on his hard dick. "I swear, Y/N-nie, I-I'm already too-" As your touch intensifies, Sooyoung's words begin to slow down until they get lost in the growing tension. His breath becomes heavier against your neck, the room filled with the palpable anticipation of the next shared experience.

In the quiet, intimate space between you and Sooyoung, his protests become muffled breaths against your neck as your hands continue their skillful exploration. As you work your magic, Sooyoung's resistance dissolves, replaced by a growing need. He breathes heavily against your neck, words escaping him in fragmented whispers. "I... I didn't expect this... you're too much," he stammers.

Amused by Sooyoung's sincerity, you praise him once again, "You deserve it, you know. You made me feel so good." As you swing your feet, a playful expression on your face, you continue, "And it's not just about me. You should enjoy it too."

Sooyoung, still catching his breath, shakes his head, a content smile playing on his lips. "I'm already satisfied, honestly. Just seeing you like that, hearing you... it's more than enough. I dreamt about that," he admits, his eyes reflecting a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of vulnerability.

You can't help but find it endearing, his selflessness in the pursuit of your pleasure. "You're too good, Sooyoung-ah," you say, a teasing glint in your eyes.

In response to your teasing, Sooyoung chuckles nervously, "I-I'm fine, really. No need for anything else." However, you can sense a subtle curiosity in his eyes, a desire to explore further.

With a playful grin, you lean in closer, your breath warm against his ear. "Are you sure?" you whisper, your voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I can make your dreams come true too, Sooyoung-ah."

His cheeks flush slightly, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "Well, maybe just a little," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a shy smile.

As Sooyoung gets free from the rest of his clothes, he watches you approach his cock with a mixture of anticipation and nervous excitement. His breath becomes shakier, and he confesses, "I think I'm going to lose my mind."

A mischievous smile plays on your lips as you respond, "That's exactly what I want, Sooyoung-ah." Your words add a layer of playful tension to the room, and you continue to pump his dick with a deliberate touch.

Sooyoung sulks slightly, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure washing over him. He mutters, "This is too much," but his body betrays him, responding to your every touch.

As the exploration continues, Sooyoung's sulking demeanor begins to transform into a mixture of pleasure and surrender. Your skilled touch elicits soft moans from him.

Despite his initial protests, Sooyoung's body responds eagerly to your every move.

You pause amidst the intimate exchange, a soft smile gracing your lips as you ask, "Are you always this shy?" starting to pump him again.

Sooyoung, his cheeks still flushed, chuckles softly and replies, "No, it's not usually like this. I guess it's just... you."

You raise an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Me? What did I do to make you so shy, Sooyoung-ah?"

He shrugs playfully, a shy smile lingering on his lips. "I don't know. You just have this effect on me, I guess." he replies as he watches you getting down.

As your mouth wraps around Sooyoung's cock, he gasps loudly, arching his back in response to the unexpected pleasure. His mumbles become a symphony of fragmented words and hushed expressions of pleasure.

"Oh, woah," he gasps, fingers tangling in your hair. "T-that feels... amazing," he stammers, his voice catching between breaths. Incoherent whispers escape him as the sensations ripple through his body.

You feel his rapid heartbeat beneath your touch, his mumbles a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he's experiencing.

Sooyoung can't help but vocalize his pleasure when his tip hits the back of your throat, making a dripping mess around his cock, and then coming back, licking the head with flickering licks.

Sooyoung, caught in the throes of pleasure, finds himself reaching the peak of ecstasy. The grip on your hair tightens, a mixture of desire and urgency. His moans become more pronounced, blending with your own shared sounds of passion.

"Ah, sorry," he manages to mumble between moans, his voice husky with desire. He loosens his grip, his fingers now gently caressing your scalp as an apology. However, you find the roughness oddly pleasurable, and it only adds to the heightened atmosphere.

His words continue to be a mix of apologies and incoherent expressions of pleasure. "Didn't mean to," he whispers, but his actions betray his sincerity.

As Sooyoung reaches his peak of pleasure, his grip tightens momentarily before his body tenses with the release. He makes a mess, his breath hitching with the intensity of the moment. His chin lifts, and he throws his head back, a guttural moan escaping his lips.

The room is filled with the aftermath of shared ecstasy, the air heavy with a mix of passion and satisfaction. Sooyoung's body relaxes, and he breathes heavily, the waves of pleasure slowly subsiding.

After the intensity of the moment, you lean in to kiss Sooyoung, sharing the intimate taste of the aftermath. Your lips linger on his, and then you trail kisses across his cheeks, coaxing him back to the present.

As he slowly returns from the depths of ecstasy, you look into his eyes and softly ask, "Are you good, Sooyoung?"

Unable to formulate words, Sooyoung responds with a deep, satisfied moan. His body, still humming with the echoes of pleasure, communicates a sense of contentment that transcends spoken language.

As Sooyoung starts to regain consciousness, he begins to kiss your neck with a newfound awareness. The intimate act sends shivers down your spine, and you can feel his growing desire pressing against you.

His lips linger on your neck, and in the sultry atmosphere, you playfully remark, "Feeling more awake now, Sooyoung-ah?"

Sooyoung, his voice laced with desire, responds, "Very awake, especially here," as he gently emphasizes his growing arousal.

A mischievous glint in your eyes, you tease, "Should we change positions, or are you comfortable like this?"

Sooyoung, unable to resist the playful banter, grins, "I think a change of scenery would be nice. What do you have in mind?"

As the dynamics shift, Sooyoung now on top of you, his gaze filled with attentiveness, you look up at him with a playful yet commanding glint in your eyes. With a sly smile, you order, "Sooyoung-ah, show me your best moves. Dance for me."

His eyes widen with surprise, a mix of curiosity and excitement playing on his features.

Sooyoung, embracing the challenge with enthusiasm, focuses on the intimate performance. The music playing in the background becomes a subtle soundtrack to the dance unfolding between you two. He pushes only his tip, making you look at him with hooded eyes, biting your lip.

As Sooyoung hovers over you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and concern for your comfort, he softly asks, "How do you want it, slowly or all in at once?"

You pause for a moment, meeting his gaze with a playful yet anticipatory expression. "Surprise me," you respond, your voice filled with a hint of excitement.

As Sooyoung fulfills your request and enters all at once, a gasp escapes your lips, quickly turning into a passionate scream of his name. The room resonates with the intensity of the moment, the sound of your voice echoing through the intimate space.

Sooyoung, captivated by the raw and unrestrained pleasure he evoked, finds himself amazed. The realization that his biggest inspiration is screaming his name in the most explicit way adds a layer of ecstasy to the experience.

As Sooyoung begins to roll his hips, his hands exploring every inch of your body, the dance takes on a new rhythm. The synchronization of his movements with the subtle beats of the song transforms the room into a private stage.

His hips meet yours in a rhythmic dance, circling and rolling in a slow and deliberate motion. Each movement sends waves of pleasure through your body, making your toes curl with the intoxicating sensation.

Sooyoung starts to pick up the pace, his movements becoming faster and more fervent. The connection deepens as he feels you tightening around him, a telltale sign of shared ecstasy.

Sooyoung, balancing on the edge of the bed, moans with a mixture of pleasure and a hint of surrender. "Right there," you cry out, his name escaping your lips. Sensing the impending climax, you encourage him with breathless urgency, "Don't stop, Sooyoung, don't you dare stop." Sooyoung, his voice strained with desire, responds, "I won't stop, not until you're fully satisfied."

As Sooyoung continues his passionate rhythm, each thrust hitting that exquisite spot with precision, the intensity builds. The pleasure becomes almost overwhelming, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as your body tenses in response.

Then, in a wave of ecstasy, you reach the climax. Your body arches, and a torrent of pleasure courses through you, wetting both him and the bed. The room echoes with the sounds of your moans, and your body stretches in a blissful release, forming a perfect "O."

As Sooyoung witnesses the physical and emotional intensity etched across your face — the tightness around him, your shaky knees, and the continuous symphony of moans — a profound realization hits him. The sheer pleasure, the uncontrollable reactions, it's all because of him.

Overwhelmed by the sight before him, he succumbs to the intensity of the moment. His moans become a mantra of your name, a vocal expression of the pleasure coursing through him.

Your bodies are locked in a passionate embrace, and Sooyoung, on the precipice of climax, finally reaches the peak. He fills you up, the room resonating with the echoes of shared ecstasy, the culmination of a dance that transcended physicality.

In the aftermath of shared pleasure, Sooyoung, overwhelmed by a surge of emotions, tightens his embrace as if cherishing the moment. His arms envelop you as if it were the last time you'd be together in such an intimate space.

You, equally caught in the emotional currents, caress his hair tenderly, planting gentle kisses on his cheek. The room becomes a haven for shared vulnerability, a sanctuary where physical and emotional intimacy converge.

"I've admired you for so long, and now, being with you like this, it feels surreal."

You gently tease Sooyoung, noting his sentiment, "You're acting like this is our last moment together."

He raises his shoulder in a playful shrug, a hint of uncertainty in his expression. "I... I don't know what happens next."

Your tone softens with a playful reassurance, "Relax, it's not the end. In fact, I want to do this again. Maybe 200 times in every corner of my house."

Sooyoung's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at your suggestion. "200 times? That's... quite a lot," he stammers, caught off guard by the playful proposal.

You chuckle at his reaction, enjoying the playful banter. "I'm just kidding. But I definitely wouldn't mind doing this again."

The room fills with a light-hearted atmosphere, the tension easing into a comfortable and playful exchange. Sooyoung, recovering from the initial surprise, raises an eyebrow in playful curiosity. "Does that number also include the rounds?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "No, no. The rounds are not included in that count. But speaking of rounds, how about a round two in the bathroom?"

Sooyoung, now grinning, responds with a hint of mischief, "Bathroom, huh? That sounds intriguing. Lead the way."

726 notes · View notes

trulyhblue · 4 months

Text

Communication

Kyra Cooney-Cross x Dutch! Reader Blurb

Warnings: fluff, REALLY bad translated Dutch, language barrier.

Masterlist

___________________

Moving from your childhood club AFC Ajax was the hardest change of your life, but the easiest choice of your career.

You signed your first professional contract with them when you were fifteen, making your club debut in the same year. After six months of fitting into the squad, and having the opportunity to play in the Champions League as a substitute, you were asked to play for your first international camp against New Zealand, where you came away with a 2-1 win. From then, you have continued to be chosen for the National Team’s 23-player squad, continuously representing them as both a starter and a sub.

You were known for your agility, speed, and footwork, both on the ball and against both attacking and defending players. Being a midfielder, your job to maintain possession and create chances felt like a breeze to you, and your pure, sheer talent landed you with many of the most assists for the past three years.

Despite the friends you made at Ajax, you knew that opportunities to strengthen your player profile and widen your skills across the world were a dream of yours. You were a huge fan of Arsenal growing up, your parents taking you to games when they could.

When the opportunity arose to represent your country at the 2023 Women’s World Cup, you don't remember doing anything but crying for the days following your selection. You played your heart out that whole tournament. And while you didn't make it to the Semis, you walked away with a once-in-a-lifetime experience, with clubs worldwide wanting you as a part of their team.

Moving to Arsenal was a no-brainer. Not only were you a massive fan of the name itself, but they were among the best players in the world. You knew Victoria and Viv from the Oranje Leeuwinnens, and you had been told that you’d move in with Vic for the first couple of months upon your arrival, so the weight of the move felt lighter than many anticipated. You were roommates with Vic during Camps. But, in contrast to your Netherlands teammates, you didn't know an inch of English.

Well, other than the obvious words like Hello, Good Morning, and Goodbye, you were hopeless.

So, when you arrived on your first day of training alongside Victoria, you couldn't help but cringe at what was about to unfold.

“Ze weten dat je geen Engels spreekt, y/n.” They know you don't speak English. She spoke, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into her chest. “Ze zijn allemaal erg aardig.” They are all very nice.

You didn't reply, choosing to keep your arm around Victoria’s waist, your eyes filtering over each of the girls.

“Ah, hier is ze!” Ah, here she is. Viv said, walking out from beside Beth Mead, jogging towards you, eloping you into a crushing hug.

“Ik heb je gemist, y/n, hoe gaat het met je?” I’ve missed you, y/n. How have you been? She asked, holding onto your shoulders as she kissed the top of your head. The London chill meant that you were wearing a black long-sleeve under your shirt, its hem being detained in your hands. The chill of the air nipped your cheeks. The Netherlands were cold, but so was London.

“Hetzelfde. Ik ben goed.” Same. I'm good. You let out meekly, noticing a bouncy Beth Mead waddle over to the three of you, holding her hand out for you to shake. You had played against Beth before, and of course, you knew her from Viv, so you made sure to look her in the eye when you shook her hand.

“Hi!” She sounded cheerfully, keeping a ball at her feet. “I’m Beth!”

“Y/n.” You replied, trying to reciprocate her delight with a small smile. “I'm Y/n.”

Your eyes widened slightly when a ball came flying at the four of you, causing you all to yelp out and duck before it hit anyone. Everyone looked in the direction the ball had come from, a strong, Irish and Australian accent on cue to yell out.

“Sorry!” The duo cringed, running over to retrieve the ball with a grimace.

“Katie kicked it.” The Australian one said, but you didn't understand. You saw the pained expression on her face, and how the Irish woman, who you knew as Katie, glared at her in shock.

“It was a joint effort, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, fuck off, no it wasn't—”

“Ze vechten.” They’re fighting. Victoria muttered to you, making you laugh.

“Ik dacht.” I figured.

The two girls were silenced after another woman came marching up to the growing group, looking at you with a stern expression before softening the crease between her eyebrows. You knew she was Kim Little by her motherly stare.

Next to her was Jennifer Beattie, an Arsenal Defender. She had her arms crossed around her chest, shaking her head in false disapproval before strolling over to you, calling out to Jonas, whom you had met when you discussed your contract.

You felt like crawling into a hole and dying, the whole occasion of being introduced to everyone made your skin crawl. Of course, no one necessarily made you feel out of place, but you refused to let Victoria’s arm go throughout the whole ordeal. You knew most of the players due to their prominence in women’s football. Most of these women set the scene for how the sport is seen today, and the mere thought of them knowing who you were was surreal.

The two girls that were arguing before, Caitlin Foord and Katie McCabe were the first to come up to you. Victoria told you they were sorry, and you shook your head and brushed the apology off, not really knowing how to say the right words in English.

Steph Catley and Leah Williamson came up to you next, saying very few yet simple words before hugging you and wishing you luck. Alessia Russo was next, and you couldn't help but giggle as her cheeks went red as she started to speak.

“Erm— sorry, hold on.” The striker looked at Pelova, who prodded her on with her hands. Russo looked back at you, trying hard to remember what she wanted to say.

“Leuk… Leuk je te ontmoeten. Erm- sorry. Ik hoop… Ik hoop dat je geniet… van… Londen.” It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy London. You knew from her strained expression that she was well aware of how much she butchered the language with her English accent, but you pursed your lips together and smiled gratefully. The thought was genuine.

“Thank you.” You muttered, your slim vocabulary in English coming in handy. “It’s… nice to meet you, too.”

Alessia looked to be most accomplished with herself, asking Victoria a question before she was cut off by Jonas’ booming voice.

You waited, trying your hardest to latch onto an idea of what he was saying, but gave up when you felt someone behind you pulling you away from Vic’s side, leading towards the other end of the pitch.

When you faced the girl in front of you, she must've realised that she had startled you, since her eyes widened at your expression.

She was short, but your height, with a scrunchie in her hair and a training jumper over her Jersey. You couldn't count the hundreds of freckles that patterned her face, her doe-like Brown eyes looking at you with a mix of shock and awe.

“Hello, my name’s Kyra. Steph told me your name is Y/n… Jonas said that we are partners, so you can start if you want.”

You didn't say anything. You wish you could, but the words that left her lips were foreign. You felt a flush run across your face, humiliation at your lack of words hitching your breath. You must've looked so stupid since the girl waited for you to reply. Everyone was set off into pairs, a ball adorned between each of them.

The girl in front of you had the ball, picking it up and fidgeting with it in her hands. You stared at each other in silence, neither of you particularly knowing what to do. It wasn't until the girl put the ball to her feet, kicking it towards you, that you communicated in some way.

Instead of talking, the girl showed you the drills, pretending to be Jonas by overexaggerating her actions by marching around, waving her hands vigorously, and using the ball to make you laugh at her ridiculous impression of your Manager.

Her number was thirty-two, yours was thirty-three, and somehow it made you feel more of a connection with her. She was very patient if you didn't understand what you were doing the first time around, and you began to wonder if number thirty-two was trying hard not to talk just for the fun of it.

She never made you feel as if you were annoying her with the lack of audible contact, in fact, she looked to find it a fun game between the pair of you.

No one chose to interrupt or try and sever the consecutive numbers, finding Kyra’s unusual silence amicable in contrast to her typical outgoing self. Both Viv and Vic were eyeing you from where they stood with their respective partners, hesitant about the choice of Kyra as your partner, as you two were very different personalities. But after a while, the two Dutch women stopped looking to see if you were okay, hearing your faint giggles from the view of a giddy Kyra enough to reassure them.

Because of this, training went by quickly for everyone. Today was a pretty easy session, similar to the ones you knew from back home. You knew you were wrapping up when Kyra started juggling the ball, singing a loud tune before passing it over to you.

You moved your feet up and down as you juggled the ball from one foot to the other. Kyra giggled when she missed the ball you passed to her, tripping over her own feet and rolling around on the floor, clutching her stomach in laughter. You did this for a while, before Kyra dragged you across the field and to the stack of drink bottles.

You didn't really know where you were going, so you let Kyra take your hand and lead the way, walking behind her as you passed the bike rack and towards the indoor fields.

You didn't begin to doubt Kyra until you had pretty much walked the length of the training centre, where you had long discarded the fields you were once training on.

“Kyra.” You ushered, making the Australian stop in her tracks at the sound of your voice. She pivoted on her heel, staring at you absolutely gobsmacked.

You looked around, trying to find the words to get across what you wanted to say.

“Say it in Dutch,” Kyra answered, catching a glimpse of your reticence.

You thought to yourself for a second before nodding. “Waar gaan we heen?”

Kyra’s eyes widened, obviously not comprehending a word you said. She looked around, trying to find a solution.

She grabbed your hand again and led you down another corridor, pushing past a few doors, weaving through the never-ending maze of rooms before finally making your way back to the locker rooms, where Vic had taken you to drop off your possessions before training.

Kyra rushed to pick up her phone, waddling over to you, typing away vigorously and smiling up at you when a voice rang from the device.

“Ik kom uit Australië.” I'm from Australia. The voice spoke.

You laughed, taking the phone from the girl’s hands and writing down a reply.

“I know. I can tell by your funny accent.”

Kyra gasped, snatching the phone off you and furiously writing down a retort. You couldn't help but gape at her fondly, biting your lip at the sight of her concentration.

“Mijn accent is niet grappig, mijn grappen wel.” My accent is not funny, my jokes are. The phone sounded.

Before you could type out your own reply, Kyra went back to typing, but instead of letting the audio play, she squinted down at the translated sentence.

“Ik zou je… veel grappen kunnen… vertellen, weet je? Zou je ze graag… willen… horen?” I could tell you heaps of jokes, you know? Would you like to hear them?

For some reason, the Dutch that left the Australian’s lips left you gushing, nodding your head up and down as you grabbed her phone.

When you translated the sentence you had written down, looking down at the words in utter confusion, you sighed. Kyra was definitely no expert in your language, but you were just downright pathetic in hers.

She must've noticed your dismay since she looked over your shoulder, pointing at the first word. “Yes… but do you… have time... to tell… them all?”

She waited for you to sound out each word, humming and nodding in recognition when you repeated the sounds.

She smiled at you, taking her phone. You waited for the audio to play back to you. Kyra’s smirk only grew when she handed her phone back to you, the Contact App up on her phone — your name typed in and phone number blank.

You laughed, and she did too.

You could get use to this communication.

(just pretend it's you)

arsenalwfc : Cooney-Cross showing Y/L/N the ropes before our big clash on Sunday!

Comments:

kyracooneyx — best partner‼️ Laten we gaan gunners (let's go)

^ yourusername — 💗💗

^ user2 — THE DUTCH 😭😭😭

^ user3 — sleeping on the highway tonight, they're so cute 💔

User7 — the eyes chica 😍😍

katie_mccabe11 — quietest training session yet LOVE YOU Y/N

^ kyracooneyx — um rude 😡

vivannemiedema — Where did you two go after training?!

^ kyracooneyx — um, home? 🥰

^ victoriapelova — HAHAHAHA

kimlittle10 — welcome Y/N ❤️

^ yourusername — 💗

User1 — the duo we never knew we needed 🙌🏼🙌🏼

*liked by kyracooneyx

bethmead_ — happy to have you here Y/n!!!!

^ yourusername — Thank you ❤️

^ kyracooneyx — what about me?

^ caitlinfoord — what about you? 🤣

^ user4 — HAVSJDVSJSHSJS I'm dying

User5 — Y/n doesn't speak English, how did they even talk? Lol

^ user6 — Viv and Vic are there. I'm sure she was fine.

User7 — she's not even that good, at this point they're just getting anyone.

^ kyracooneyx — womp womp

* liked by yourusername

_____________

Number Thirty-Three 💗

You : what does ‘womp womp’ mean?

Ky : Niets, net als het. Xx Nothing, just like it. Xx

__________

#kyra cooney cross #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #arsenal x reader #katie mccabe x reader #caitlin foord #kim little #leah williamson #vivianne miedema #beth mead #woso community #woso fanfics #fluff

533 notes · View notes

allur1ngs · 5 months

Text

✮ colder hearts ✮

TW: mentions of violence, guns, typical mafia activities, arranged marriage (what can i say, i'm a sucker for tropes), age gap--bada is in her mid to late twenties and reader is in her early-ish twenties, bada speaks pretty formally bcs in this au i feel like she'd be extremely professional even when it comes to her loved ones, not edited bcs i got too excited and wanted to put this out asap so please ignore any mistakes

SUMMARY: your arranged marriage to older!cold!mafia boss!bada lee unfolds, revealing that there's more than just ice behind her cold heart.

part ii. enflame

WC: 1.9k

A/N: a lot of thoughts have been stewing in my mind thanks to @beetlejuicyy 's awesome mafia!bada content, + isabel larosa's song older!! this is just for fun!

DISCLAIMER: all characteristics portrayed are purely speculation and fiction, they are not meant to reflect bada's actual character, values, or attitudes. please keep this in mind!!

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite being older than you, is still considered too young to be a leader in the mafia business, which had initially made her a target of turf wars.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite all odds, won every single one of the battles because of her cunning strategies and equally talented members.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who becomes known for her cutthroat and merciless deals. She might be younger in the mafia scene, but she proved her commitment to her business when she had one of her lackeys killed for fumbling a job.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA whose engagement to you comes as a surprise. Having known nothing about your parent's business beyond the large amounts of money they made, you were shocked to find them sitting across from the infamous Bada Lee, the leader of the mafia crew, Bebe.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who has an undeniable, powerful presence. Even her simply sitting on the polished leather seats in your living room had you intimidated. Her blank stare sweeping across your entire being in mere seconds, boring her dark brown--almost greyish eyes into yours, never breaking eye contact for a second. there's a clear hierarchy in this room, and it's clear to everyone you're at the bottom of it.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, along with your parents, spare no time explaining her sudden appearance. words echo in the golden-trimmed room at impossible speeds, words like "marriage", "business deal", "protection", "money" deafen your ears and cause your skin to prick up.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who speaks to you then, her calculating eyes noticing the lost look in your own.

"We are going to be wed." She cuts through the jabbering voices of your parents, immediately causing them to fall silent. "I will provide you with a lifestyle grander than you could ever imagine, and your parents and I will secure a firm partnership as a result."

You remain silent only for a brief moment. "And what will you gain from this arrangement?"

Bada's lips form a thin line. It's not as if she hadn't expected you to speak up, but your question mildly surprises her. "Your parent's partnership..." she trails off for a moment, her sharp eyes finding your parent's figures, then sliding back to yours. "and your companionship."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who makes it clear to you when you move into her personal home--or more accurately--mansion, that you are not a piece of meat to her, or a body to warm her bed.

"I asked your parents to inform you of our arrangement beforehand." She stands tall before you, her black suit crisp and free from wrinkles as her long, thin fingers come to pinch the bridge of her nose in mild annoyance. "But it's clear to me from your demeanor when we first met that you were not." She sighs quietly, then removes her fingers from her nose bridge. She watches you silently before approaching you in long strides, now standing inches away from you. "You are under no obligation to stay with me. Say the word and you will be returned to your parents, and our union will be resolved. No consequences, no questions asked."

Despite knowing her for such little time, her words surprise you. The way she speaks to you is gentle, yet stern.

You're thrown for a loop. Just who is Bada Lee?

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who, despite being confident in what she can provide first you, is surprised when you turn down her offer to return to your parents. It seems your union will remain intact.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who shows you her professionalism when laying out what is expected of you.

"There are only three things I ask of you while you stay with me." She holds up three corresponding fingers in the air. "One, you must never lie to me."

Her finger drops as she uses her other hand to gesture to the rest of her crew who stand behind her.

"Everyone in this room is here because they have never once lied to me in their life." She explains. "Truth is something I value more than anything, so I promise to never lie to you. Of course, I expect the same from you."

"What about little white lies?" You cut in.

"White lies mean nothing to me." Bada dismisses. "But never lie to me about something important."

The next rule she declares seems easy enough.

"Number two, loyalty." She places another finger down. "Pretty self-explanatory."

You nod absentmindedly, trying to ignore how every moment you remain in the room with Bada and her crew, you become more and more nervous.

"The last and the most important," Bada leans over her sleek desk, her eyes lowering while she stares at you. "do not put yourself in unnecessary danger. You are under my care now, so your health and safety is my first priority. Never compromise them."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who sets firm boundaries with you.

"I want to make it clear to you that despite our wedding in the future," Bada licks her lips, her hands clasping together in front of her in a firm position. "I will not fall in love with you."

Your expression quickly twists into a look of confusion. Companionship, she had said.

"Feelings make business more difficult. Makes it harder for me to protect you." She says flatly. "I am more than happy to be another acquaintance of yours, or someone you cast aside while you enjoy the fruits of the lifestyle I can provide you."

"I like neither of those options." You respond somewhat bitterly. When you were told you'd be engaged, you expected for there to be at least some semblance of feelings between you and your betrothed. A lifetime of coldness and solitude was not something you signed up for.

"Then," Bada’s cold demeanor slips for a second, and if you weren’t paying so much attention to her in that moment, you would have missed it. “we can be friends."

And for the first time, you see her lips settle into a half smile.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who immediately gives you a card with funds for you to spend wherever you want, and whenever you want.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who assigns one of her most trusted and talented members to be your bodyguard. When she said your safety was her priority, she wasn't lying.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who's surprised when you come to visit her the following morning, carrying a tray of breakfast foods.

"Good morning." She greets you, her eyes quickly moving from the food in your hands to your eyes. You’ve noticed that Bada loves making eye contact when she speaks to you.

"Good morning." You greet back. Although the smile on your lips doesn’t fully reach your eyes, you’re trying your best to stay positive. You never know, your friendship with the mafia boss before you could end up being beautiful.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of your visitation?" Her words fall from her lips in a soft cadence, careful to make sure her tone doesn’t make it seem like she’s bothered by your presence.

Which is strange, she realizes. She hates being disturbed in the morning. It’s when her best ideas come to her.

"I thought," you begin while placing the breakfast tray in front of her. "if we are going to be friends, we might as well get to know each other."

Bada’s lips form a smirk as she leans back into her chair, her legs spreading apart.

"And…" you smile at her. "I heard you hadn’t eaten breakfast yet."

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who allows you to stay in her office for as long as possible, trying to convince herself that it's not because she's entranced by how you smile brightly at her when she engages in conversation with you, or how you cover your mouth to laugh at something she's said. No, it's definitely not because of that.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who starts to look forward to your morning visits. When she's particularly busy and you have to cut your conversation short, she feels a weight lift off her shoulders the second her eyes scratch your figure walking down the halls of your shared home, your bodyguard following after you diligently.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who tells your bodyguard to only take you to stores that are managed by her partners. She knows they'd never hurt you. You're her bride-to-be, after all.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who's in a particularly boring business meeting when she receives a call from your bodyguard on her personal phone. Her eyebrows immediately shoot up, a frown settling on her lips. She only receives calls from her personal phone when there's an emergency.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA whose heart drops when she hears your bodyguard shout into the phone that a rival gang had decided to have a shootout in the area where you'd been shopping for groceries.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who in a panicked, yet stern and chilly voice tells your bodyguard to protect you at all costs while she calls for backup.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who breaks multiple laws to speed to the grocery store, practically throwing herself into a street with bullets flying everywhere and broken glass littering the floor. She doesn't care. She runs into the store, shouting your name before ducking behind a turned-over shelf.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who breathes a sigh of relief when she hears you call out to her, your bodyguard shooting at a rival gang member that was about to enter the store. She rushes over to you, using her body to block you from the onslaught outside the store.

"Are you okay?" Bada's wide eyes find yours, then sweep over your body, looking for any injuries. "Are you hurt?" Her hands come to clutch the sides of your face, only pausing for a second when she sees a semi-long cut running along the soft skin of it.

"I'm fine." You breathe, your hands resting on top of hers. "Just surprised--"

"You're hurt." The way she says the words breaks your heart. It's like she'd been the one wounded, with how her eyes turn to large, sad pools, and her frown tugs down even further.

You flinch, one of your hands moving from hers and coming up to touch the cut on your cheek. "I didn't even notice--"

Before you can finish your sentence, Bada had already leaned in, her plush and soft lips pressing a gentle kiss onto the skin next to your wound.

When she pulls away you're stunned by her loving gesture, but neither of you is able to say anything before she quickly gathers your body into her arms, and cradles you close like she's scared of losing you.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who doesn't hesitate to dispose of anyone who threatens to harm you.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who after that incident, only refers to you as her fiancée. Not as a form of endearment--of course not--but just as a form of respect to your upcoming union.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who with every passing day, finds it harder to fight the warmth she feels when her eyes take in your form.

OLDER!COLD!MAFIA BOSS!BADA who'd fallen in love with you the day she'd met you, despite how hard she tried not to.

#bada lee x reader #bada x reader #bada lee #bada #street woman fighter 2 x reader #swf2 x reader

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 9 months

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part. Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's a good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway. Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8.

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him. But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin. He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's Outer Banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST

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