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girlsoutlate · 6 months ago

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the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

part two

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite a solitary life whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter. mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled "won't be a minute". thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?". staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, gaz listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied "steak for dinner? tha's perfect". a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price fondly said to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table watching you busy yourself by the counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your loose ponytail. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. "pass me a can. please?" you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented "what would your men think if they saw you like this?". for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personality but that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up the last forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

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w4ndal0ver · 7 months ago

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said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 7: said i'm gonna play with myself (milf!wanda x tutor!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: While tutoring Wanda's children, she invites you to stay for dinner, before giving you a call that you'd never forget when you get home

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, mommy kink, phone sex

said i'm gonna play with myself.

“Let’s wrap up for today, Tommy. I think you’re well on your way to acing this unit,” you say, gathering your notes.

Tommy grins, newfound enthusiasm lighting his face. “Thanks! I might actually read the rest of it now.”

As you gather your things, you take one last glance at Wanda, who is arranging the table. A flutter of excitement stirs in your chest—this tutoring session is just a step into something deeper, something you can’t wait to explore.

Just as you finish packing up, Wanda glances at the clock, then back at you, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “You know, it’s still early, and Vision won’t be home for a while. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’d be nice to have some adult conversation.”

A rush of excitement mingles with nervousness at the invitation. You glance at Tommy, who looks equally surprised.

“Yeah, stay! My mom makes the best food,” Tommy adds, his grin wide and eager, clearly hoping for an excuse to avoid any homework.

Wanda laughs, a melodic sound that fills the kitchen. “It’s true! Plus, I could use some help keeping Tommy on track. We can talk about your studies too.”

You hesitate for a moment, considering the offer. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” you ask, glancing between Wanda and Tommy.

Wanda shakes her head, her eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. “Not at all! It’s always more fun to share a meal. And I’d love to hear more about your experiences at Yale, especially your English Literature classes.”

Your heart flutters at the thought of spending more time with Wanda, diving deeper into conversation and sharing stories. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love to stay.”

Wanda’s face lights up with happiness. “Great! Just make yourself comfortable. I’ll finish up here.” She moves back to the stove, and you take a seat at the kitchen island, feeling the warmth of her invitation settle around you

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask genuinely, wanting to show her your appreciation for letting you stay.

“Just sit there and look pretty for me.” She smirks, looking at you over her shoulder as she starts to dish up the food that she’d made. She starts to softly hum to herself as you perch on the side. “This smells amazing,” you say, leaning closer to inhale the rich scent.

“It’s a family recipe for beef stew,” she replies, her eyes lighting up. “Tommy and Billy love it, especially on chilly days like today.”

The kitchen feels warm and inviting, and you admire how effortlessly she creates an atmosphere that feels both homey and elegant. As she plates the stew, you can’t help but appreciate the care she puts into everything she does.

“Dinner is served!” she announces, setting down two bowls, each steaming and inviting. The sight alone makes your mouth water, and you grab a warm roll from the basket nearby, slathering it with butter.

As you dig into the meal, you find yourself drawn into Wanda’s world. She shares anecdotes from her life, her voice soothing and engaging, while Tommy and Billy interject with playful commentary. The laughter that fills the kitchen feels intimate, and you notice how Wanda’s eyes sparkle when she talks about her passions.

Between bites, you steal glances at Wanda, captivated by the way she moves about the kitchen, effortlessly transitioning between tasks. Each moment with her feels charged, as if you’re discovering more than just a talented cook but a woman who radiates warmth and kindness.

As dinner winds down, Wanda leans back in her chair, satisfaction evident on her face. “I’m glad you decided to stay,” she says, and her smile feels like an invitation, a promise of more moments like this.

“Me too,” You reply, a flutter of excitement stirring within you. This cosy kitchen, filled with lingering scents of dinner and the warmth of shared laughter, felt right.

As you sit there, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and the fading light of the afternoon, your gaze drifts to Wanda. She moves with an effortless grace, her laughter mingling with the aroma of dinner, and you can’t help but admire the way her eyes light up when she engages in conversation. Each glance she steals in your direction feels laden with unspoken intentions, and you find yourself wondering what goes on in her mind. What motivates her to invite you into her home, to share this intimate moment with her family? There’s a softness to her demeanour, a hint of flirtation that suggests she sees more in you than just a tutor for Tommy. The warmth in her gaze ignites a mix of excitement and curiosity within you, making you contemplate the possibilities that lie ahead—possibilities that make your heart race with anticipation.

As Tommy and Billy finish their plates, they exchange playful glances before Tommy pushes his chair back. “Can I be excused? I need to go check something on my phone.”

“Me too! Can we play that new game?” Billy pipes up, bouncing in his seat.

“Alright, just keep it down,” Wanda replies with a smile, waving them off. The moment they scurry from the table, the atmosphere shifts, leaving just you and Wanda.

The air feels charged, almost electric. You lean back, savouring the lingering warmth of the meal and the soft glow of the kitchen light. Wanda glances toward the pantry and then looks back at you, a playful smile dancing on her lips. “How about a little wine to celebrate surviving our first tutoring session?”

You chuckle as she moves toward the cupboard, reaching for a bottle. She holds it up, tilting it slightly as if to gauge your reaction, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you think? Care to share a glass?”

“Why not?” you reply, intrigued by her casual invitation. Wanda pours two glasses, her movements fluid and graceful. As she hands you a glass, her fingers brush against yours, sending a small thrill through you.

“It’s nice to unwind after a long day, don’t you think?” she says, leaning against the counter, her gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart flutter.

“It definitely is,” you agree, raising your glass in a mock toast. “To surviving tutoring sessions and small towns.”

She laughs, her eyes lighting up, and you can’t help but admire the way she carries herself, exuding both warmth and confidence. “And to new beginnings.”

You take a sip, enjoying the rich flavours as the conversation flows effortlessly between you. “It’s weird being back in Westview. This town can feel so stifling,” you admit, twirling your fork absently. “I didn’t realise how freeing it would be to go to Yale and finally be able to express myself.”

Wanda tilts her head, her gaze locking onto yours with a mix of curiosity and intrigue. “Have you found anyone in Connecticut?” she asks, her voice light but filled with genuine interest.

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “Oh, there were plenty of people interested, but none that I could be bothered to get to know. Friends, sure, but not a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Wanda leans in slightly, her elbows resting on the table, interest evident in her expression. “Not even a little spark with anyone?”

Her question is playful, and you feel a rush of warmth. “I guess I just didn’t find anyone worth my time.”

Wanda’s smile widens, and she tilts her head slightly, her hair falling to one side. “You’re telling me a beautiful girl like you couldn’t find someone to take a chance on?” She leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s hard to believe.”

The playful banter makes your heart race. “Believe it or not, I’m not exactly the most sought-after prize.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she replies, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I find you quite intriguing.”

Feeling emboldened by her flirtation, you decide to take a bolder step, though you tread lightly, your curiosity tinged with an eagerness to learn more about her. “So, I’ve been curious about something,” you say, hesitating just a moment to build anticipation.

“Hit me.” She says, her eyes twinkling as her finger traces the rim of her wine glass.

“Your affair with Agatha, what was that like?”

Wanda’s expression shifts, the playful sparkle in her eyes momentarily flickering with surprise. “You’re quite the inquisitive one, aren’t you?” she replies, a mix of intrigue and wariness in her voice, but there’s an underlying thrill in her tone. “How did you even - no it doesn’t even matter.” She laughs, knowing immediately that Agatha wasn’t exactly one for keeping her mouth shut.

You lean forward slightly, drawn in by her response. “I mean, it seems like it must have been complicated. You two have such a dynamic.” You let the words linger, allowing the weight of the question to settle between you.

Wanda tilts her head, contemplating her answer, her lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The silence hangs, thick with unspoken thoughts. “Complicated is one way to put it,” she finally admits, her voice softening. “It taught me a lot about myself, about what I wanted.”

“Did you ever think about what might have happened if things had gone differently?” you ask, your tone teasing but sincere, hoping to coax out more from her.

Wanda’s eyes meet yours, the intensity of her gaze making your heart race. “Sometimes,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers brushing against yours on the table. “How come you’re so interested in my love life young lady?”

“You asked about mine first.” It was your turn to wink this time and the reaction that you got from Wanda was completely worth it. Finally her cheeks blushed pink, her lips rolling against each other and her tongue poked against her cheek, something you realised was her tell.

“You got me there sweetheart.” She hums, taking another sip of her wine, the sip turning into a glug, the wine matching the deep colour of her cheeks, highlighting the blonde highlights of her hair which she tucked behind her ear.

You watch her, captivated by the way she navigates the conversation with both grace and playful candour. Wanda’s demeanour radiates warmth, but there's an underlying intensity in her gaze that pulls you in even closer. She leans back slightly, her fingers swirling the wine glass, the deep red liquid catching the light in a way that mirrors the spark in her eyes.

“You know,” she starts, her voice light but teasing, “I didn’t expect such an insightful conversation over dinner. I usually just get ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ or ‘What’s your favourite drink?’” She laughs softly, a musical sound that echoes in the cosy kitchen, making you smile in response.

“Those questions have their charm, but I’d take a good chat about love lives any day,” you reply, letting your gaze linger on her lips as she speaks. “It’s way more interesting.”

Wanda’s smile widens, a glint of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Interesting, huh? So, you’re saying I’m interesting?” Her tone is playful, but there’s a subtle challenge behind it that makes your pulse quicken.

“Absolutely. You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met,” you say, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in your stomach. You can’t help but feel drawn to her, a magnetic pull that’s both thrilling and intoxicating.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she responds with a smirk, leaning closer again, her elbow brushing against yours. “But seriously, I’m curious. If you had to pick, what’s your type?”

You pause, considering your answer, but the way she’s looking at you makes it difficult to think clearly. “Honestly? Someone confident, a bit witty, maybe a little mysterious.” Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flicker of intrigue dance across her features. “You know, like someone who can keep me on my toes.”

“Oh really?” Wanda arches an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a sly grin. “I think I might know someone who fits that description.” Her gaze flickers to your lips and back to your eyes, a playful challenge lingering in the air between you.

“Do you now?” you tease, leaning closer, your heart racing as you embrace the flirtation. “Care to share?”

She chuckles softly, a soft sound that wraps around you like a warm blanket. “Maybe. But only if you promise to keep it a secret.”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, a playful seriousness in your tone, your heart thumping in anticipation.

“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lets just say this person has a soft spot for pretty girls who can hold up their own in a conversation.” She bites her lip, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks, and for a moment, you’re both lost in each other's gaze, the air thick with unspoken tension. Just then, you notice the clock on the wall and blink in surprise, realising how much time has passed. “Wow, I really should get going. I can’t believe how late it’s gotten.”

Wanda’s expression shifts slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering across her face. “Oh, do you have to?”

“Yeah, I should” you begin, but she interrupts you, standing up and moving toward her purse.

“Wait, let me grab something for you,” she says, her tone light as she rummages through her bag. You take a moment to gather your things, but the atmosphere feels charged, and you can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end.

As you slip on your coat, she turns to you, a hundred-dollar bill in her hand. “Here, take this,” she says, extending it toward you.

You glance at the money, then back at her, unsure. “Wanda, this is way too much. I can’t just take this.”

“Just take it, please,” she insists, her tone soft but firm. “Consider it a thank you for making dinner so enjoyable.”

Her fingers brush against yours as she tries to push the bill into your palm, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of her touch, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “I really can’t”

“Just let me do this,” she interrupts, her eyes locking onto yours, an intensity behind them that leaves you breathless. “I want you to have it.”

With a sigh, you let her close your hand around the bill, the warmth of her touch lingering. “Alright, if you insist.” You grab your stuff and she follows you out towards the front door.

As you stand by the door, the weight of the moment settles around you, electrifying the air. Wanda moves closer, her gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that sends your heart racing. You feel a thrill as she reaches up, her fingers gently brushing against your cheek, and then she tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The soft caress sends a shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but lean into her touch, savouring the warmth of her hand lingering near your face.

“There,” she says, her voice low and sultry, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Much better.” The way her fingers linger near your ear feels almost intimate, and you find yourself holding your breath, caught in the moment.

Wanda’s eyes search yours, a spark of mischief dancing in their depths. “You always look beautiful,” she adds, her voice dropping just above a whisper, making your heart flutter. The compliment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities.

“Thanks,” you manage to reply, your voice softer than usual, the closeness between you two making the world outside fade away. You can feel the warmth radiating from her, a magnetism that draws you even closer. All you wanted was to tell her how beautiful you thought she was, pull yourself into a kiss as she slams you up against the door to her suburban house, but instead you can’t get the words out.

As she pulls her hand away, a slight blush creeps up her cheeks, and you notice the way her gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, an unspoken invitation that makes your pulse quicken. The chemistry between you crackles like electricity, and you can’t help but wonder what might happen next, the evening stretching before you with infinite possibilities.

“See you next Tuesday,” she says, a smile playing on her lips as she steps back, watching you with an expression that makes your heart race.

As you step outside, the cool air hits you, but the warmth of the moment lingers, not able to get it out of your head as you walk back home. Everything about her felt so wrong, but you couldn’t ignore the way her eyes gazing into yours made you feel, something so raw and exciting. She was magnetic, all you wanted to do was let your walls fall down and allow her to take you into her grasp, but you knew that you couldn’t, it was too risky.

.-.

As soon as you reach your house, your thoughts are still tangled in the evening’s events, the warmth of her touches still ghosting over your skin. The immediate heat of the house matches the flush in your cheeks despite the chill of the cool night air. It feels unusually quiet, especially after the buzzing tension you’d just left behind.

Kicking off your shoes, you move through the motions of getting ready for bed, but your mind keeps circling back to Wanda. The way her stare lingered on you, how she always leaned closer with each exchange, her fingers brushing yours. That last touch, the press of her hand around the money she forced into your palm, everything was making your skin burn uncontrollably.

You slip into bed, your phone resting on the nightstand, its screen dim but somehow tempting, as if you half expect a message. You close your eyes, but Wanda’s image is imprinted there, her teasing smile, the way she tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear, the flash of something daring in her eyes every time she glanced at you. There was no more denying it, you’re drawn to her in a way that feels inescapable. The flirting, the touches, she reads your mind without saying a word.

Just as you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes softly, the screen lighting up with a name that makes you jump up in excitement. Wanda.

You pick up without hesitation, “Hey Wanda,” you say, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you hadn’t been thinking about the way she’d look on top of you.

“Hi,” She replies, her voice warm, a little lower than usual, “I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all,” You assure her, shifting slightly under the covers, your thighs squeezing together at nothing but the sound of her voice, “What’s up, it’s late?”

“I was just thinking about our conversation earlier,” She says, her tone deepening with every word she spoke, “I wanted to check in, make sure you got home safe.”

You smiled, touched by her genuine thoughtfulness, “I did, I’m just getting ready for bed.”

“Good, good.” Wanda murmurs. There’s a slight pause, and you hear her inhale deeply, “I, uh, was also thinking about what you said, about finding someone,”

You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat, the tension rising over telephone lines. “Yeah? What about it?”

Her voice drops lower, and there's a subtle shift in the air. You can hear her breathing, soft but uneven, something about it was different. “I guess it’s just, surprising, you know?” She whispers, “That someone as pretty as you hasn’t found anyone worth your time.”

You shift the phone harder against your ear, suddenly hyper aware of the weight of her silence between every word. “Wanda?” You ask gently, her silence deafening.

“I’m here,” She responds, but there's a catch in her voice, a breathless quality that wasn’t there before, “It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you.”

Your breath catches, her words making your stomach flip and you could almost choke against her words, “About me?”

There's a soft sound on the other end of the line, a barely audible gasp. Wanda’s breathing hitches and you feel your pulse quicken as realisation dawns down on you. Her breaths are shallow, broken by quiet, restrained moans.

The sudden intimacy of it makes your skin tingle, Wanda was touching herself, while talking to you. The idea sends a rush of heat straight through you, your own breath panting as you process what’s happening. Your mind circling down on the thought of her blowing a blonde strand of hair out of her face as her back arched against the palm of her hand.

“I-” You don’t even know what to say.

“You have no idea how much you've been on my mind.” Wanda whispers, her voice thick with pleasure, each word punctuated by the sounds of her breath quickening, “God, I couldn’t stop thinking about you even after you left.”

Her words are laced with heat, and you feel the tension between you spike, your body responding to the quiet sounds of her gasps, to the way her voice curls around each breathless word.

“I can’t stop imagining” She trails off, another soft moan escaping her, and it feels like it’s all for you, every breath, every sound. “What it’d be like if you were here”

The room feels hotter suddenly, your pulse pounding in your ears. You can picture her now, in her own bed, hand sliding against her skin, her body arching with every wave of pleasure. It’s almost overwhelming, how close she feels despite the distance, how intimate this moment has become.

“Wanda” you murmur, your voice betraying your own excitement, your body reacting to the sultry edge in her voice, to the rawness of this unexpected moment.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she teases softly, her voice a delicate thread of desire. “I can tell, I can hear it in your voice.”

You can’t help the way your body responds, heat pooling low in your belly, the thrill of her words sending sparks through your veins. This connection, the electric pull between you and Wanda, feels impossible to ignore now. You could feel your arousal building between your legs, doing everything you could to not join her.

“Tell me what you’d do,” Wanda whispers, the soft, sensual command in her voice making you shiver. You swallow hard, the intimacy of her question hanging in the air, the weight of what she’s asking leaving you breathless.

Your breath catches at her words, the weight of Wanda’s request settling over you, igniting something deep within. There’s a moment of silence, thick and heavy, as you process the intimacy of what she’s asking. You can practically hear the soft rustle of sheets on her end, her breath laboured but controlled, a steady rhythm that mirrors your own quickened heartbeat.

You close your eyes, sinking further into your bed, the thought of her, so vulnerable and uninhibited—making your skin flush. “I…I don’t know,” you murmur, feeling your own voice falter with nervous excitement. But even as you say it, your mind spins with possibility. You know exactly what you’d want to do but you’d never been with a woman before, you’d never been with anyone like that before. You knew that nobody knew that you were still a virgin, but you weren't ready to admit that.

Wanda’s voice softens, her tone coaxing but still thick with desire. “Come on,” she whispers, and you can almost see the playful smirk on her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath against your skin. “Oh I see.” She chuckles through breathy gasps. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” You gasp at her words, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Wanda, I-” You couldn’t help it, no words were coming out. The nerves of your inexperience coming through so obviously in the waver in your voice.

“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t know what you’re doing do you?” Her soft moan echoes down the line, a breathless, sensual sound that sends a shiver through you, “You don’t know how to pleasure a woman like you pretend to, do you.” Wanda’s words drip with seductive authority, her voice threading through the phone like a secret. "You don’t have to pretend with me," she purrs, her breath quickening, sending shivers down your spine. "I’ll teach you. All you have to do is listen."

Your heart pounds in your chest, the sheer intimacy of her voice making your body react in ways you hadn’t expected. You shift under the covers, your skin burning with a mixture of desire and nervousness. "I’ve never—" you start, but your voice cracks, barely above a whisper. The admission hangs in the air, your vulnerability on full display.

"I know," Wanda murmurs softly, her tone teasing yet reassuring, as though she had known all along. "But I can show you, if you let me."

You can hear her breathing, now quicker, almost ragged, as if the very thought of guiding you through this is bringing her to the edge. "Do you want me to show you, darling?" she whispers, the question itself a caress. "Do you want me to tell you exactly how I’d fuck you?"

Your breath catches again, your pulse racing, the words sending heat coursing through you. “Yes,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice. "I want you to."

Wanda hums softly, pleased with your surrender, and you can hear the shift of her body, the subtle movements of fabric and skin. "Good girl," she whispers, her words laced with a satisfaction that makes your chest tighten with want. "I want you to close your eyes and imagine me there with you, my hand tracing up your thigh, slipping under your clothes, touching you exactly where you need me."

You can hear the faint sound of Wanda’s breath catching, her own pleasure mounting as she describes it to you. “Can you feel that? My fingers on you?” she asks, her voice breathy and low, pushing you to the edge of your self-control.

“Yes,” you whisper back, your voice shaky, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, her voice deepening, the sensual command impossible to resist. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."

You’re trembling now, caught between desire and nervous excitement, but you push past the nerves, your need for her overtaking everything else. “I want you to touch me, to fuck me,” you confess, your voice barely a whisper, the words trembling on your lips.

Wanda’s breath hitches, and you hear the unmistakable sound of her pleasure, a soft gasp escaping her as she touches herself. "Say it again," she demands, her voice thick with lust, desperate to hear your desire.

“Wanda,” you moan softly, giving in to the pull of her words, the fantasy she’s woven around you. “I need you to fuck me. I want you to touch me, make me yours.”

The sound of her gasp on the other end of the phone sends a wave of heat through you, and you can hear her losing control, her breathing turning rugged and uneven. "Mmm, you’re such a good girl," she purrs between breaths, her voice dark with desire. "You’d let me take you, wouldn’t you? Let mommy fuck you until you can’t think straight."

There it was, you let out a moan at the way she titled herself. You knew you’d been into that for years now, but never daring to tell anybody, but of course she knew, she could read you so well. You nod, even though she can’t see you, your entire body aching for her touch. “Yes, please mommy, I want it so badly.”

Wanda moans softly, her pleasure evident, and you can almost picture her, the way her body must be arching under her own touch, lost in the same heat that’s consuming you. "I’d make you beg for it, sweetheart. I’d have you trembling beneath me, begging for more."

You bite your lip, your breath catching at the raw hunger in her voice, your own need reaching a fever pitch. "I’d beg," you admit, barely able to find your voice. "I’d beg for you mommy."

Her breath comes faster now, a soft, breathless moan escaping her lips. "That’s my girl," she whispers, her voice breaking with the weight of her own pleasure. "You’d be mine. All mine.”

Wanda's moan on the other end of the line grows louder, ragged with need, as if your words pushed her even closer to the edge. You can hear the soft rustle of sheets, the unmistakable wet sounds of her fingers moving faster, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The image of her, undone and desperate for release, fills your mind, stoking the fire building within you.

“Say it again,” she demands, her voice thick with desire, trembling with the intensity of her pleasure. “Tell me what you want, tell me you’re mine.”

Your pulse races, each beat louder than the last, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. You grip the phone tighter, biting your lip, but you know she wants more than your silence. “I’m yours, Wanda,” you whisper, breathless, giving her exactly what she needs. “I’ll do anything. Just please, fuck me. Make me yours, mommy.”

The sound she makes in response is guttural, a low, throaty moan that sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, fuck.” she gasps, her control slipping further with every passing second. You can hear her fingers moving faster, the wetness of her arousal audible through the phone, and it’s intoxicating, pulling you under with her.

“Good girl,” Wanda breathes, her voice barely holding together as she edges closer to climax. “You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you? Let me fuck you whenever I want, take you however I want.”

“Yes, yes,” you whimper, your own arousal becoming overwhelming, your body aching for her. “Please, Mommy, I’d be so good for you. I’d let you do anything to me.”

That’s all she needs.

With a sharp, shuddering breath, Wanda moans loud into the phone, the sound of her orgasm raw and uncontrolled. Her breath catches, breaking into uneven gasps, and you can hear the wet sound of her fingers as she rides out the wave of pleasure, her body clearly shaking from the force of it. Each sound she makes is laced with satisfaction, a deep, throaty hum of ecstasy as her release takes over completely.

You can barely breathe, your body reacting to the sheer intimacy of hearing her come undone, your own desire pooling low in your belly, desperate and needy. Wanda’s breathing gradually slows, her soft, contented sighs filling the air between you, and you close your eyes, imagining the flush on her cheeks, the way her body must be lying spent against the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” she whispers, her voice still heavy with satisfaction. “I can’t wait to hear you beg for real.”

“Wanda, I don’t know what to say.” You admit, your brain fuzzy and spaced out at the unexpected nature of her call. You’d only been back home for a few days and you had no idea how much of an impression you’d made on the older woman.

“You don’t have to know what to say honey, that’s my job.” She hums as you hear the click of heels against tiled flooring. You could almost choke on the sound, she wasn’t in her bedroom, she was in the kitchen, the echoing of her words now making sense as each moan had bounced around the emptiness of the room.

“Are you in the kitchen?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you imagine her there, the scene playing out in your head like a movie. You envision her bending over the kitchen island, the soft glow of the lights casting a warm hue over her skin as she calls you, wanting you to picture every moment of her tantalising routine.

“Maybe,” Wanda teases, her voice dripping with mischief. “Will I see you next Tuesday?”

You feel a thrill rush through you at her question, the way she asks it, sending your heart racing. "You know I’ll be there," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with eagerness.

“Good,” Wanda replies, a satisfied hum escaping her lips.

“Goodnight, Wanda,” you murmur, your heart fluttering with excitement as the call ends, leaving you with thoughts of her dancing through your mind. As soon as you heard the line end, you reached down to your underwear, the fabric completely soaked and you threw your head back in frustration. You wanted to touch yourself, but it felt wrong, you wanted to leave yourself in desperate heat, making you want Wanda even more.

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kateschi · 8 months ago

Text

same book, different chapters

synopsis: an ordinary evening takes a turn when katsuki expresses what you've always known but never expected to hear.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

being with katsuki is a lesson in unspoken understanding. you knew who he is long before you started dating him—loud, brash, and not the type to share his feelings openly.

but it didn’t take long to realize there’s so much more to him than that. his love is quiet, reserved, and shown in the details:

how he pulls you out of the way of a passing car, or how he remembers the smallest things, like your favorite kind of tea or that you prefer your coffee without sugar.

and that is enough for you. mostly.

you didn’t expect him to be the kind of boyfriend who says "I love you" with ease. katsuki isn’t like that. it isn’t something you hold against him either.

but every now and then, a small part of you wonders what it would be like to hear him say it—to hear those three words slip past his lips in the same way they had from yours.

you say it first, a quiet “I love you” in the middle of a peaceful night when the world outside feels still.

his response comes in the shape of hugging you tighter, securing you in his arms. however, he doesn’t say it back, and you don’t expect him to. you don’t need him to.

still, there are times when you find yourself holding your breath, wondering if one day he’ll actually verbalize it.

it isn’t that you doubt his feelings. katsuki isn’t one to waste time on things or people he doesn’t care about.

you know how much he cares by the way he silently takes care of you, always putting you first in his own way, even when his words are rough around the edges.

it’s just that sometimes, words have a way of making things feel more real.

tonight is one of those easy evenings you cherish—one where you don’t have to think too much about anything. the two of you are in your kitchen, making dinner together, though “together” is generous.

you’re doing most of the work while katsuki stands next to you, arms crossed, casting a critical eye over everything you do.

“you’re putting too much salt,” he says, the frown on his face making you smile.

“pretty sure this is the exact amount the recipe says to use,” you reply, amused at how serious he always gets when it comes to food.

“that recipe’s wrong. I could’ve made this better with my eyes closed.”

“then why don’t you?” you tease, turning your head to glance at him. his gaze is sharp as usual, but the small curve in the corner of his lips betrays him.

“maybe I’ll cook next time,” he grumbles, looking away like the very idea of giving in bothers him.

you laugh softly, enjoying the banter. this is something you love about him—how even in these simple moments, his presence fills the space with a sense of ease.

there’s no pressure to be anything other than yourselves, even when his blunt honesty clashes with your more relaxed approach.

as you stir the pot, you can’t help but let your thoughts wander back to the three words. you know katsuki isn’t the type to say things until he’s ready, and you respect that.

but part of you is curious—would it ever come naturally to him, or would it always be something unspoken between the two of you?

still, as you stand there, the warmth of his steady presence beside you, you realize that maybe you’re okay with it remaining unspoken. katsuki shows his love in ways that don’t need words to validate them.

and then, without warning, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. you freeze for a moment, caught off-guard.

“katsuki?” you ask, your voice soft, as you lean into him instinctively.

he doesn’t answer right away, just holds you there. his touch isn’t hesitant, but it is different from the usual casual touches you’ve grown used to.

“you’re annoying sometimes,” he mutters, voice low in your ear.

you chuckle, relaxing further into his hold. “I know.”

there’s silence for a beat, and then: “but I love you anyway, idiot.”

you blink, unsure if you’ve heard him correctly. you turn your head slightly, trying to see his face, but he buries it against your neck, hiding his expression. “did you just—?”

“don’t make a big deal out of it,” he mumbles, voice suddenly gruff, though you can hear the embarrassment beneath the words.

a smile breaks across your face, warmth spreading through your chest. you didn’t expect it, but that makes it all the more special. he isn’t saying it because the moment demands it.

he isn’t saying it because you’re waiting. he says it because he wants to, because he feels it.

“I’m not,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably as your happiness bubbles up in your voice. “but…I love you too.”

you feel his grip tighten around you and a kiss pressed to your shoulder.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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nicholasgoodgirl · 9 months ago

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that was mean- nicholas

summary: nicholas was having a bad week and gave you the silent treatment.

warning: argument, crying, happy ending

a/n: i couldn't stop thinking abt this no joke. so ofc i had to write it out

from late at night till he left early this morning for work nicholas has been either quiet rude or both.

we haven't spoken to eachother or not even silents acts of love. nothing.

he cut his alarm clock off and i tried to give him a hug before he got out the bed and he pushed me off of him "not right now" he grumbled and got out of bed

when he left for work i said 'bye' to maybe break the silence shared between us, but i got no response. it was starting to get lonely. i missed my bestfriend that was also my boyfriend

i had nobody to mess with or someone to talk to about my day.

to stop these lingering thoughts i go back to bed to maybe get my mind off of things.

i wake up around 8 am which was later than the time i usally woke up around, but today was sorta a lazy day.

it was gloomy not much sun was shining, it rained a little here and there. it was more of a slow day for me so the extra rest was very much needed

i text my boyfriend forgetting about the whole silent treatment ordeal.

me: how's your day going so far?? :)

and to no suprise i was left on delivered and soon left on seen. i messaged him periodically throught the day; hoping that maybe he would reply

it was almost time for dinner which normally nicholas cooks cause he's just better at it, but i didn't know when he was coming home or if he would even do it, so i look up some quick easy recipes and nothing struck my fancy but the pizza recipe. cause how hard could it really be?

i put a packet of yeast into my bowl along with some flour, water, oil, and salt. i let that sit for 30 minutes then im back to cooking again.

spreading flour onto the counter and placing the dough onto it; kneading it into a circle shape. this was harder than i thought

i look around for the marinara sauce and i put it into a different bowl and add a few light seasonings.

i paste that onto the dough, then i sprinkle some alot of cheese onto the pizza and my additional toppings bell peppers, spinach, and mushrooms.

i was so proud of myself especially sense i wasnt the cook, out of me and nicholas. i was really excited for him to try what i made but again i highly doubt he would even eat the food.

i put the pizza away into the oven completely forgetting to set a timer and put on a movie while i wait.

a smell of burning was the first thing that woke me up. "shit shit shit" i repeat totally freaking out remembering i left the pizza in the oven.

i get a rag and ineffectivley wave smoke out the air. when i open the oven it smelled horrible. i was coughing from all the smoke that had entered my lungs.

i take the burning pizza out and throw it into the sink, and hose it down with the water.

thats when i hear the front door open and mentally face palm. "what's that smell?" he asks "i kinda burnt a pizza that i tried to make"

"of course you did" he mutters sounding unimpressed. "and the fuck you mean 'kinda' you obviously did burn a damn pizza" he gestures to the chunk of charcoal burnt pizza

"it's not like i did it on purposes or something if thats what you think" my tone sounding a bit confronting.

"It's smells fucking horrible so open a damn window first off" he took a step closer raising his voice.

"you don't pay for shit so i don't understand why you almost had this place in flames secondly. then you also wanna blow up my phone while im working for crying out loud what do you want from me!" he yelled directly in my face

and im sure he knows by now i hate being yelled at. it's something my parents did and overall doesn't solve anything

i just take it, i didn't wanna fight so i go over to the nearest window and crack it open so the smoke clears.

my eyes watered from all the harsh words he could dish out but not the equal amount of attention "well.. you are- when i was.. ugh s'not my fault" i couldn't get a full sentence out. i felt so belittled in this moment

"im going to bed i don't have time for your stupid ass shit" those words hurt more than he thinks.

he had the most patience for me, always making time for us and now he doesnt.

"that's so mean.. you're being so mean" i wipe some tears that had fallen. i turned away from him silently crying.

the peices of my hair stuck to my tear-soaked cheeks. "wait- I'm sorry please don't cry" nicholas' voice was filled with regret.

i lazily push him away from me but he doesn't budge. his arms wrap around me bringing me into his familiar embrace. "I'm so sorry for being an asshole. I've been having a long shitty week and i know thats not an excuse so you don't even have to forgive me."

"you're everything to me. i swear i didn't mean it." he adds

the unforgettable cruel words he'd said to me earlier shoved ontop of his sweet loving words made me cry more.

i let him hold my trembling body as sobs tore through my chest, each inhale was ragged and uneven.

my hands clutched the material of his shirt "im so sorry sweetheart i never wanna make you cry" he explains in such a low voice, giving my hair strokes in attempt to calm me.

my face still burried into his neck tears now starting to dry away, and my breathing starting to even out. he carried me over to the couch and placed me in his lap

i was drained from all the crying, the tense feeling in my body beginning to melt away when i really started to feel nicholas' touch. my eyes drooped again this time staying shut for longer.

i was too tired to resist the sleep that had tooken over. and being cradled in his arms didn't help.

"I'll order pizza for the both of us alright?" he took me off of his lap and placed me on our couch. then lays one of our throw blankets ontop of me. "can we talk in the mornin'?" is the last thing i remember asking before dozing off.

a/n: can yall tell idk how to make pizza

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez fluff

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alllbedo · 2 months ago

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how to win over genshin men !

includes: xiao, lyney, albedo, venti, wanderer

xiao

sheesh. good luck with this one…

in all seriousness, he’s a tough one, but it’s still possible to make him crack iykwim

firstly and most importantly, you can’t be clingy. like at all. if he senses you getting too close too fast he’ll run off like a cat

be chill. nonchalant. whatever word you fancy. just don’t be creepy.

in all honesty, you’re going to have to go into meeting him with the goal of friendship in mind, not a relationship.

if he gets even a hint that you wish to pursue him in that aspect too early on into your meetings, he’ll get irritated and, you guessed it, run off like a cat

in short, become VERY VERY VERY good friends before you even think about crossing that line

he’s just scared okay be patient and gentle with him and he’s yours i swear

lyney

our little magician is much harder to win over than you might think!

underneath his cool and charming façade, he’s just a boy who wants the best for his siblings.

that being said, become friends with lynette or freminet before getting close to him!

don’t get me wrong, it’s not like you’d be doomed to friendship forever if you met him first, but getting along with his loved ones is a sign that he can trust you.

because he’s apart of the fatui, trust is hard to garner from him, so consider yourself lucky!

once you’re good friends with one or both of his siblings, he’ll probably make the first move

friendship-wise you idiot….

he’ll most likely come up to you one day on the streets of Fontaine with the ploy of demonstrating a new magic trick he plans to use in his next show

but secretly, he just wanted to talk to you

compliment him or act surprised, just don’t be cold or nonchalant !!!! he will get offended and lose all interest immediately!

he’s already insecure enough please don’t bruise his (fake) ego

keep in mind to compliment HIM, not just the trick. keep it playful. not too serious. just bordering on flirtatious and friendly.

he’ll grow flustered, as he’s more used to people admiring his tricks rather than him. he’ll get quiet, so you’ll need to start the next part of the conversation.

talk about what he loves most, his weak points: his siblings!! share the details of your most recent outing with freminet or lynette, and boy will he fall head over heels.

he’ll invite you to a “private magic show” after

it’s not dirty you sewer rats.

it’s most likely a big tea party with his siblings present as well. he’ll just show off card tricks the whole time. lynette will eat some crêpes and fall asleep. freminet will wander off halfway through, claiming he has to repair pers. you’ll be the only one left.

just “ooh” and “aah” until he’s done

albedo

my favorite boy.

albedo’s biggest interest (ahem, turn-on) is curiosity and mystery.

go up to dragonspine one day, seemingly in order to gather some ingredients for a recipe.

we all know what you’re really up to, though

however, as you were walking up the mountain to “accidentally” pass by albedo’s lab, a huge avalanche caused heaps of snow to fall upon you

it’s your lucky day, though, because albedo was strolling by at that very second! how convenient i know right

that also means he saw you get absolutely bodied by snow though so …

anyway, he obviously comes to your rescue, grabbing onto your outstretched hand and yanking you up from the soft snow.

he’ll firstly ask if you’re alright, and then proceed to bombard you with questions about why you were up there in the first place.

okay now here’s the part where you have to lock in

you need to be soooo mysterious. answer with something so blatantly false that even he sees through it. better yet, add hesitation to your replies.

this will interest him, but also make him a little suspicious, so now you have to lay off the mystery.

say you lost your way and mention being cold so that he’ll offer to lead you up to his lab.

once you’re there, it’s your turn to ask questions, be the curious one.

you’re gonna have to glaze alchemy sooo damn hard bro. idk pretend like you’re interested if you’re not.

he tends to grow bored when the conversation isn’t a topic that interests him (canon), so beginning a discussion in a topic he loves is the best way to grow closer to him.

after your most likely lengthy discussion over alchemy, he’ll walk you back down the mountain, pointing out different landmarks for the “next time you’re up here” 😏

so he’s implying that you’ll come back huhhh … ;)))

bro he wants you so bad, trust !!!

venti

bard boy time!

out of all of these character’s, he’s the easiest to win over.

start simple by attending his poetry and prose read-alouds next to the big statue in mondstadt. other people will be there, so you’ll need to make yourself stand out by standing at the front of the crowd, or smiling at him whenever he looks up to gage reactions.

he’s a god, he obviously knows all mondstadt citizens, so when he sees you, someone he doesn’t recognize, his interest is already piqued.

once his session ends, simply clap and smile. stay in your place. once the rest of the crowd wanes off, and it’s just you and him left, you want to be the one to start the conversation. show that you’re not scared to show interest in a poet’s work (even if all you’re truly interested in is the poet themself…)

compliment the poem or inquire about where his inspiration for it derived from. he loves talking about poetry, so he’ll be happy to share.

being forward is where your best chance with him lies. people seem to forget that he’s been voted the best bard in mondstadt for several years now… he’s a popular guy! he has a lot of people swarming him each day, asking for poetry advice, complimenting him, asking for a duet, etc.

so you need to be BOLD. put on them big girl/boy pants and make your interest in HIM as a person clear.

it’s best not to compliment his appearance too much, since, y’know it’s not really his

but don’t focus on poetry too much either.

be flirtatious. once you start talking about poetry, he’ll turn the question back to you. he’ll ask about your knowledge and/or experience with the art.

if you write poetry, good for you, because you’ve got him hooked.

here’s your opening: tell him what topics you like to write poems about (hint: mention the word “love”)

he’ll agree, saying that he writes poems about love as well.

next, you should ask him something along the lines of “does that mean you have a muse?” or some variation. ask him if he has a significant other.

now he’ll realize that your interest in him is different from the rest of mondstadt’s citizens’, and reply that he doesn’t.

if he’s really hooked, he’ll return the question, and once you say no, he’ll invite you to hang out with him more privately another day to discuss poetry.

propose going to angel’s share and you’ll have yourself a husband already

wanderer

this one’s also a tough one.

he’s not quite as standoffish as xiao is, but he’s close to it

he’s kinda just mean …

the only way to impress him is by one-upping him in anything, whether it be in witty comebacks, an assignment in the akedemiya, or in a sparring match.

show him that you’re not a burden, that you can hold your own.

if there’s one thing he hates in a romantic partner, it’s dependency.

i see a lot of people depict wanderer as a sucker for a clingy s/o, but i can’t help but think that he’d absolutely hate that.

he’s been tied down all his life, why would he want the one person who sets his heart free to then tie it down with their mortal limbs? automatic turnoff.

prove to him that you don’t need him, but that he instead needs you.

beat him in a sparring match and he’s drooling istg

you can’t be too avoidant though. he loves the chase, but he won’t chase forever. he values his dignity too much.

it has to be a sort of mutual thing. you chase him for a bit, and he chases you.

“chasing” in this scenario is not what it usually is in others.

with wanderer, chasing is simply finding some excuse to be in your presence.

does that mean he’ll talk to you? absolutely not. in fact, most of your enemies-to-lovers-esque relationship is expressed through actions, not words.

another thing he’s a sucker for: people with a sense of humor.

holy shit. this man never laughs at anything. if you can match his dark sense of humor, he’s whipped.

poor dude hasn’t laughed in forever, tell him a twisted joke or something

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #wanderer genshin impact #wanderer #xiao genshin impact #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #albedo genshin impact #albedo x reader #venti genshin impact #venti x reader #lyney genshin impact #lyney x reader #hoyoverse

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oscopastry101 · 1 month ago

Text

ᯓᡣ𐭩 LOVER

charles leclerc x piastri!male reader synopsis: two guys in love, but nobody really knows. six years in, and its still just quiet mornings, secret glances, and a shared life out of the publics eye. well, for now.

smau, fluff, uhm other??

warnings: just Pinterest guys as fc, any brunettes = charles, blondes = reader, this is kinda everywhere tbh?

!!! also i made reader have chronic leg pain, but like its not super severe nor is it mentioned outside of like.. one picture?

authors note: for the plot the leclercs consider ollie a leclerc and oscar well obv a brother-in-law lolz, uhm first story? also reader is oscars brother. also sorry if the french and stuff is wrong im using a translator..

enjoy!! C:

oscarpiastri posted a story! charles_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: always looking out for my brother] [caption: new additions to the family]

arthur_leclerc replied: your brother looks oddly like my brothers husband ↳ oscarpiastri replied: you can't even see their faces, how would you know? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: magic.

user1 replied: oscar has a BROTHER??

user2 replied: so oscar has a brother- but who is his brother with??

nicolepiastri replied: stays safe my boys ❤️ tell charles he should visit again soon! ↳ oscarpiastri replied: i'll share the word with him ❤️

lando replied: i've lost the plot, wdym brother osco? ↳ oscarpiastri replied: stay confused ↳ lando replied: you're so MEAN

arthur_leclerc replied: do i get one too???? ↳ charles_leclerc replied: uhm no?? you're not my husband ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: IM YOUR BROTHER???

user2 replied: omg they're so cute

leclerc_pascale replied: how cute, quels sont leurs noms? [what are their names?] ↳ charles_leclerc replied: Gizmo et Poppy, maman [Gizmo and Poppy, mom] ↳ leclerc_pascale replied: parfait, je t'aime [perfect, I love you] ↳ charles_leclerc replied: je t'aime maman [I love you mom]

georgerussell63 replied: you should get me one as well ↳ charles_leclerc replied: uhm, no!

liked by oscapastry, nicolepiastri and 507 others yourusername i'm being forced to bake

tagged oscarpiastri and justaninchident

oscpastry: you offered to bake them wdym 💔 ↳ yourusername: no i was forced by cha ↳ oscpastry: thats not my fault ↳ justaninchident: I ASKED NICELY? ↳ yourusername: sure... ↳ justaninchident: just say you hate me 💔

nicolepiastri: they look amazing! ↳ yourusername: thank you, mam ❤️

user3: those look so good, send some to me asap

bff: yumm pls send the recipe! ↳ yourusername: ofc i will

kingarthur: do i get any???? ↳ yourusername: only if you come over

bearguy: wth they look so good yn let me have one ↳ yourusername: uh i mean if you somehow get here feel free to take one? bring kimi if you come. ↳ bearguy: ON IT!

charles_leclerc posted a story! arthur_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: almost back on season!] [caption: say hi to the cute dog]

yourusername replied: you look so good my love ↳ charles_leclerc replied: never as good as you, amour

user2 replied: looking fine as always mr. leclerc

user4 replied: i cant wait for this season!! new teammate, im excited

ferrari replied: can't wait to have you back! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: i can't wait either!

lewishamilton replied: excited to race beside you, charles! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: me as well!

arthur_leclerc replied: wow that excited to leave yn and i ↳ charles_leclerc replied: not yn, but you? of course

charles_leclerc replied: awwss its my big dog

yourusername replied: hi hydra, my cutie

user5 replied: hi cute dog! hes so adorable!

user6 replied: now whos dog is that??

olliebearman replied: DID YOU GET A DOG? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: no, its hydra ↳ olliebearman replied: that.. makes sense!

kimi.antonelli replied: hi cute dog!

liked by 300,221 people gossipf1 Mclaren driver Oscar Piastri was seen walking into the Australian Grand Prix with a mysterious guy! Is this the brother who Piastri posted on his story about a week ago, or is it someone else we don't quite know? Stay tuned!

user7: I honestly think it's his brother

user8: if it's his brother BOOMSHAKALAKA DAYMMMMM ↳ user9: have we even seen his face?? ↳ user8: I did! I was there when they walked in, and let me tell you WOW! he was gorgeous

user10: who cares!! first race of the season and its Oscars home race, im so excited!

yourusername: they're quick with it, oh my ↳ oscpastry: always.

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 423,201 others ynpiastri new account, who this?

tagged: oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri: welcome aboard ↳ ynpiastri: thanks osco

lando: YOURE THE BROTHER?? ↳ ynpiastri: well, yes? you're the other driver? ↳ lando: yes!! nice to meet you, cooler piastri ↳ ynpiastri: nice to meet you too, less cool driver ↳ lando: BETRAYAL..

mclaren: welcome to the paddock, yn! ↳ ynpiastri: thank you very much mclaren

ausgp: excited to have you

user11: uhm user8 was right he IS fine ↳ user8: ID NEVER LIE

user12: PLS ONE CHANCE MR PIASTRI

user8: OMG I TOLD YALL

liked by ynpiastri, oscarpiastri and 928,123 others ausgp OSCAR PIASTRI GETS P1 THIS WEEKEND!! not only, but fellow aussie and rookie, Jack Doohan, gets points!! congrats!! p1 and p9 are no joke!

tagged: oscarpiastri and jackdoohan

ynpiastri: australians RISE, so proud of you osco!! and so glad to meet you jack, i'm very proud! ↳ oscarpiastri: thank you yn! ↳ jackdoohan: thank you so much yn, it means a lot!

mclaren: THATS OUR DRIVER!

alpinef1team: Lets Go Jack!!! Amazing first race, keep it up!

user13: IS THIS REAL??

user14: LETS GOOOOO

user15: OP81 DOMINATION IS REAL!!!

lando: congrats mate! you raced well today ↳ oscarpiastri: you as well!

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 512,123 others ynpiastri about sums up this week

user16: who are you doing the titanic pose with??? ↳ ynpiastri: secret shh

oscarpiastri: smoking in the house again? 😒 ↳ ynpiastri: my house my choice ↳ justaninchident: you're lucky i'm not home tsktsk

user17: hes so FINE?

user18: is this like.. a soft launch or sum

olliebearman: pls make more cookies, it was a rough weekend ↳ ynpiastri: sighhh alright, bring kimi

liked by oscpastry, bearguy and 89 others kingarthur i know what i saw...

justaninchident: delete it. ↳ kingarthur: nuh uh ↳ justaninchident: arthur, arrête d'être ennuyeux! [arthur, stop being annoying!]

yourusername: be so fr arthur

oscpastry: oh dear what now.. ↳ kingarthur: they were being... yk! ↳ oscpastry: oh come on yourusername justaninchident you said you'd behave ↳ yourusername: we were! arthur was just nosy 🙄

arthur_leclerc posted a story!

[caption: would you look at that.. husband reveal? charles_leclerc] [caption: arthur is dead to me, but hes not wrong]

arthur_leclerc replied: oh no.. did i post that

oscarpiastri replied: YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT DO THIS

ynpiastri replied: you're dead to me. ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: tbh im not sorry

user19 replied: WDYM??? WDYM???? HUHHHH

user20 replied: CHARLES AND YN PIASTRI???? WHT.

lando replied: ARE YOU SERIOUS??? ↳ lando replied: WHAT ELSE DONT I KNOW?? ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: i'm sorry you found out this way, man

olliebearman replied: papa y papa!

kimiantonelli replied: i hope you asked :( ↳ arthur_leclerc replied: duh, charles and yn have been planning to, charles just told me to get it over with

ynpiastri replied: my beautiful, handsome husband ↳ charles_leclerc replied: and my beautiful, handsome husband

leclerc_pascale replied: Félicitations mes garçons! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: merci maman

arthur_leclerc replied: you asked for it ↳ charles_leclerc replied: yeah, but i have to play the part

carlossainz55 replied: congrats amigo! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: merci carlos!

lorenzotl replied: finally, congrats charles! ↳ charles_leclerc replied: thank you, enzo

user21: YOURE WHAT?? YURE MARRIED?

liked by oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc and 1,203,202 others charles_leclerc home is where you are ❤️

tagged: ynpiastri

oscarpiastri: finally, hardest kept secret

ynpiastri: hard launched by my brother-in-law but i could never regret marrying you ↳ charles_leclerc: i'm glad arthur doesn't repulse you ↳ ynpiastri: only sometimes ↳ arthur_leclerc: HEY!

arthur_leclerc: you're welcome!

leclerc_pascale: my boys

carlossainz55: i can't say it enough, congrats amigos! ↳ charles_leclerc: thank you very much carlos ↳ ynpiastri: thank you carlos!

user22: i'm still in shock.

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 723,123 others ynpiastri married this guy who used to pay me to make trays of cookies for him! but i wouldn't change a thing ❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: you forgot to mention they were the best cookies in the world ↳ ynpiastri: i didn't forget, i just let you say it

oscarpiastri: do i get brother of the year or what ↳ olliebearman: you get no awards, you've known forever...

user23: are these cookies still available in the current day or..

kimiantonelli: congrats!! you two are amazing ↳ ynpiastri: not as amazing as you

BONUS!! (i was gonna do a cool gc thing but i cant find any good apps so ill write it down ig..)

groupchat: leclerc family (unofficial)

arthur: so.. i may have done something!

oscar: WDYM MAY HAVE?? you said you wouldn't post it

yn: I hate you. no. i DESPISE you

charles: You.. posted the story?? 😐

arthur: TO BE FAIR! you told me to "get it over with" i took that as encouragement

oscar: HE WAS JOKING??

charles: i WAS JOKING. i meant we'd plan a cute post later?? then reveal it???

ollie: to be fair.. everyone kinda knew well, anyone who payed attention you guys weren't subtle

kimi: I think youre all dramatic i think it was very cute

lando: IM STILL PROCESSING??? MARRIED??? FOR TWO YEARS??????

oscar: why are you in this gc again?? like genuinley

lando: i'm here through acquaintanceship, duh! and because of you

yn: arthur you aren't invited to the next family movie night

arthur: You say that every time :((

charles: this time we mean it. and you're paying for dinner next time

arthur: how rude! but worth it

authors note!! that's a wrap! i honestly can't believe i wrote this and that it's over. this originally was a silly idea with charles and a polish baker but then i switched it up so much. do i regret it?? only a little bit. thank you for sticking around though!

to everyone who will like, comment, scream beside me, or just read quietly: thank you!!

463 notes · View notes

shosweet · 20 days ago

Text

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo picks you up after your afternoon college classes, casual clothing because he specifically told the commission he’s “off duty to pick up his darlin’ girl.”

he then picks up a hoodie and sunglasses on the way because you told him he’d cause a ruckus, fangirls and the press lining up to see him (as if his wings won’t give him away immediately).

he meets you in a small, low-populated area of campus, watching you from above as you look around for him and check your phone for any updates. once you find him, you smile and wave, keigo landing “gracefully” before you.

he gives you the biggest bear hug, wings fluttering as you tiptoe to wrap your arms around his neck.

“miss me, lovey? how was school, hm?” he asks, reaching for your bag slung loose on your shoulder. throwing it over his own, he sweetly kisses your cheeks, pestering you with more questions.

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo who drives you around to all your favorite places. he buys you everything you want, even the ones you slightly glance at through the display window. he couldn’t care less that you love to splurge, in fact, he indulges it happily (and he’s probably worse himself).

his favorite thing to buy you though, however, are sweet treats. sitting down in a small cafe (after renting it out for just the two of you), you share a small crepe, soft wrapping and warm nutella filling with fresh strawberries and bananas enriching the sweet flavor. it’s honestly a race between who can eat more — both of you have forever-unsatisfied sweet tooths.

“i’m gonna use the bathroom real quick, don’t eat it all,” he says, placing a quick peck on your lips before dashing off. when he’s back, he’s betrayed to see the crepe gone, only a sliver left behind. he looks at the piece, your innocent little smile, and back at the piece.

“i thought i told you to save some,” he sulks, wings deflating as he pulls his chair back and slouches.

“i did! right there,” you smile, pointing to the sad little piece with some whipped cream in the corner of your mouth, cheeks full and content.

“yer tryna starve me, aren’t you,” he cries.

“you could’ve ordered two, y’know,” you giggle.

“that’s actually so smart! thank you baby, yer a genius,” he exclaims, kissing your forehead before standing up to order another (you end up eating most of the second and he orders a third to-go, planning to hide it from you in his fridge).

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo, who loves eating meals with you anywhere. five-star michelin, fast food, take out, he absolutely adores anything.

although, one of his favorites would be at fancy restaurants. he loves seeing you get all dolled up with everything he’s spoiled you with, loves seeing your face light up at the extravagant display of the restaurant you go to. however, looking at the menu, you worry a bit.

“keigo, ‘s too expensive here…” you mumble, taking his hand across the table with brows furrowed. he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lightly.

“don’t worry about it, sweets. order anything y’like,” he replies with a sincere smile.

his #1 favorite though? cooking at home with you.

he cooks what he knows, learns new recipes, and makes all your favorite dishes without you having to ask. sitting at the island table, you watch as your head is propped on your hands, eyes never leaving his figure.

“need something?” he smirks, noticing his little one-woman audience. it’s especially bad if he wears a compression shirt with those sweats he knows drive you insane, and extremely worse when you’re ovulating.

“yer staring at me like yer gonna eat me alive,” he chuckles, placing a pan on the stove as he grabs more things from the cabinet, focus strictly on the food.

“kiss, please?” you ask, eyes wide and waiting. he only laughs, setting everything down and turning down the stove.

“tryna burn down the house now, are ya?” he jokes, walking over to you. “no matter, i have another,” he mutters before cupping your jaw. he kisses you deeply, almost as if he’s missed their touch even just a couple minutes away from them.

his hands stay on your jaw, one of yours tangling in his messy hair as the other strokes his wing. he gives a broken chuckle, pulling away.

“yer dangerous, love,” he says in a low voice. “let’s finish dinner first, yeah? after that, ‘m all yours.”

𐙚 older boyfriend!keigo who treats you like you’re his world. you’re curled up in bed, too weak and in pain to get up. keigo only gives you the space you need, checking in every now and then.

“refill your tea?” “tuck you in again?” “anything you wanna eat?” “need help going to the bathroom?”

he makes sure you’re attended to without you needing to lift a finger. even on days when he’s away, or you’re too irritable to deal with anybody, he sends a couple feathers your way. one sneaks in through the space under the door, lightly tickling your cheek.

“hi, keigo,” you groan. “i’m okay, haven’t eaten anything yet, can’t stomach anything down,” you mumble. keigo listens as he’s walking to a nearby cafe, looking for something small to satisfy you.

the feather in your bed floats away to your window, squeezing under it and pushing it open. soon after, a couple more feathers come in carrying small things keigo’s bought for you — a pastry, water, candy, a heat pack, and (ironically enough) a small plushie of him. there’s no rush, no scramble, no confusion — everything is calm and collected because keigo knows by heart how to take care of you.

the feathers place each item gently on the nightstand beside you. one more floats in with a tiny note, scribbled in keigo’s handwriting.

“rest up, love. i’ll be back again soon. i’ll keep this feather with you, let me know if you need anything. i love you! — keigo :)”

you giggle and place the note on your nightstand. the feather that brought it tickled the tip of your nose, just as keigo would kiss it before he leaves, and lays just above your head on the pillow.

“thank you, keigo,” you mumble before drifting off to sleep with a full heart. “love you, too.”

on your rooftop, he kisses the golden pendant resting on his chest, part of a matching set he’d gotten you for your anniversary.

“i love you more.” and older boyfriend!keigo always means it.

longer drabble because i need him

454 notes · View notes

mead-iocre · 3 months ago

Text

Glasses | Brat!Reader x Alexia Putellas

anon says:

I can see brat! Reader needing glasses and she where’s contacts out but when she’s at home she wear her either black rim glasses or her clear rim ones and alexia finds her so cute when she wears them because she turns into a baby even if she is trying to be tough and bratty all Alexia sees is the incident look on her face

warnings: biiiiit suggestive. read at ur own risk lmao

word count: 488 words

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

she was standing in front of the stove, eyes glued to the phone in her hand. her hair was tied in a messy bun, eye glasses resting low on the bridge of her nose. her eyes scanned the recipe on her phone, and alexia could just about see her tongue poking out on the side of her lip-- a habit of hers she found so, so endearing.

she loves the way her glasses would slip down, the way her nose would crinkle in annoyance. and she would huff audibly before pushing the thing back up with her finger. so fucking cute, alexia would think.

"i told you to get them adjusted at the store, mi amor" she called out from her spot by the kitchen island, grinning at the way her girl immediately narrowed her eyes at her behind her glasses. damn she was sassy-- and cute.

"and i told you i'd do it next week" would be the only reply.

that's also what she said last week and the week before that.

she rounds the kitchen counter, approaching the subject with caution. she has the sudden urge to smoother her with kisses all of a sudden.

but that was cringe so instead she bends her neck slightly to leave a smacking wet kiss against her lips, the sharp frame of her girl's glasses lightly bumping against her cheek.

she pulls away, eyeing the wetness left behind on her lover's lips. she licks her own, tasting a hint of vanilla lipgloss that definitely does not belong to her.

"you're just scared they'll ask you to go for that eye test that you've been putting off for the past 2 years--" a palm comes up to cup her mouth, effectively quieting her. her girl throws her the meanest glare behind the glass frames that could kill a victorian child, but all alexia does is kiss her palm, knowing just how much that would annoy her. the way she lightly pinches her on the side is evidence of that.

but still, alexia just grins at her. adorable.

she grabs at her wrist, kissing her palm once more before pulling her mouth free. she just grins when her girl makes a show of rubbing her palm against her shorts.

"are you sure you can even see? i mean it took you a while to get me going last night--"

the glint in her girl’s eye was her only warning before she opens her mouth:

"alexia i could be blind and deaf and psychotic and i would still be able to find your pus--"

her eyes widen, mouth agape.

"cállate! jesus fucking christ your mouth"

alexia admonishes her. but not really. you'd think she'd be used to the perverse and wicked things that spew out of her lover's mouth, but everyday is just another opportunity to leave her stunned somehow

alexia feels her tug on her shirt, watches as she lifts up on her tiptoes so they are eye to eye. she leans in as if to kiss her, stopping just a few centimetres away--

and then "funny that's exactly what you were saying last night, baby”

₊‧.°.⋆✮⋆.°.‧₊

yall have such big brains. lemme kiss 'em

hope you enjoyed this one, anon. despite it being a short (and dirty!) one!

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

#anon request #anon's prompt #brat!reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #brat!reader stories #alexia putellas fanfic #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine

541 notes · View notes

harryslittlefreakk · 7 months ago

Text

recipe for disaster

summary: y/n is a stubborn, clumsy baker and harry is a stubborn, overbearing firefighter

warnings: none!

wordcount: 4k

a/n: hi my friends 💐 this is basically just setting up the story lolll it was meant to be longer but who has the time for that!! stay tuned for part 2 <3

masterlist 🫶🏼

Nothing felt better than a warm shower after a long day. Steam swirled all around you, the hot water pounding away the day’s fatigue - the morning rush, the non-stop hum of the mixers, the relentless work to keep trays filled with gingerbread men and warm cinnamon rolls.

You had always been proud of the bakery. The satisfaction of seeing customers bite into your creations - it was all yours. Every flaky croissant, every gooey cinnamon roll, every crusty loaf bore the unmistakable mark of your hands.

And that’s why, no matter how many times Claire told you to hire some more help, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. “You can’t keep this up alone,” she’d said in mid-October, standing in the doorway of the kitchen while you worked. You were wrist-deep in bread dough, kneading away as though the flour had wronged you.

“I’m fine,” you’d replied, the words curt and clipped. “It’s my kitchen. I’ve got it under control.”

Claire didn’t look convinced. She never did. “Christmas is coming, y/n. Orders are already piling up, and it’s not even December. This is too much for one person.”

You waved her off, refusing to look up. “I’ve done it before. I’ll do it again.”

But you hadn’t done it like this before. Back then, the bakery wasn’t so popular. There weren’t stacks of orders for holiday cakes, tins of cookies, and towers of Christmas pies. There wasn’t the constant pressure of phone calls and emails asking if you could squeeze in “just one more order.”

By the time December rolled around, you were drowning.

The days started earlier and ended later, the hours slipping away as you raced to keep up. You woke in darkness, stumbling into the bakery before the sun rose. Your hands ached from kneading, your back throbbed from bending over the ovens, and your head buzzed with the endless list of things to do. And yet, you’d refused to admit you needed help.

“I’m worried about you,” Claire had said one night, her voice soft but firm. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen again, watching as you haphazardly piped frosting onto yet another tray of sugar cookies. Your shoulders were slumped, your apron streaked with berry juice and chocolate.

“I’m fine,” you’d mumbled, though even you didn’t believe it.

“You’re not fine. You’re exhausted. You’re going to make mistakes.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, louder than you meant to. The words echoed in the kitchen, the air growing heavy. Claire didn’t reply. She just shook her head and left you to your chaos.

She was right. You knew she was right. And you knew that she’d snitch to your brother, who’d stop by to ask why you weren’t listening to his wife. Only to be followed by your parents, who’d ask why you weren’t listening to your brother.

They only cared for your well-being. They wanted you to succeed as much as you wanted to succeed. But you didn’t remember a time when the bakery wasn’t your baby. It had been your dream, your refuge, and your pride all wrapped into one - a living, breathing extension of yourself. The idea of sharing that, of letting someone else touch what you had built, felt like carving off a piece of your soul.

You squeezed your eyes shut until the screams of voices and thoughts were tiny whispers in the back of your mind, letting the water cascade over you, enveloping you in its warmth. The sound of the spray drowned out the noise in your head, a momentary reprieve from the chaos of orders, burnt loaves, and your own stubborn pride. For a few minutes, there was nothing but the water, the steam curling around you, and the faint rhythm of your breathing as you tried to piece yourself back together.

Every muscle ached, but the heat soothed it all into blissful numbness. It was pure paradise - at least until a rock came flying through your bathroom window, shattered glass crashing all over your tiles. What the fuck?

You turned the shower off with shaking hands, adrenaline coursing through your body. The cold winter air filled the room quickly, the evening wind whistling through the smashed pane.

You slipped your robe on with a groan, the fleece clinging to your damp skin.

That’s when the sound reached you - the incessant wailing of the smoke alarm from downstairs. Your stomach dropped. The bakery.

You’d sworn to be more switched on, to actually check the ovens before you retreated to your apartment. But the days were long, and your brain was goo by the time you waved the last customers out of the door.

The floors were wet beneath your feet as you slipped and skidded down the stairs, your mind cycling through every possibility of what would await you. A burglar who decided to commit arson? Your entire kitchen alight? The flower store next door burned to the ground, your beloved bakery an unfortunate casualty?

You reached for the light switch tentatively, your eyes landing on a curl of dark smoke seeping from the oven door. The entire bakery was dim, your soft lighting no match for the cloud hanging over the room.

That fucking deafening beeping was doing nothing to calm you down. You grabbed the broom, jabbing at the smoke alarm, and of course, missing the button every time, your hands shaking as the panic turned to adrenaline in your veins. Your free hand flapped wildly under the sensor, desperately trying to just Stop. The. Beeping.

“Hello? Let me in!”

A deep, husky man’s voice. The same man who was also pounding on your front door, his face pressed up against the glass.

If good things came in threes, how many bad things were you supposed to get at one time?

Your priorities might have been skewed, as they usually were, but getting rid of the axe murderer at your door was suddenly the most important thing in the world to you.

You charged towards the door, broom still in hand, throwing it open with a noise not too far from a growl. “It’s really not ideal for you to murder me right now! Come back later,” you shouted over the smoke alarm.

“I’m not- what?”

Okay, the murderer had a hot voice. But he was still a murderer. You pushed the door closed with your shoulder, but he wedged his shoe in the doorway, halting your attempt to shut him out. You glared down at the offending foot, your grip on the broom tightening.

"Look, I'm just trying to help," he said, holding his hands up. "I’m a firefighter. Saw smoke pouring out of your oven.”

“Help with what, exactly?” you shot back, trying to ignore the way his broad shoulders filled the doorway, or how his green eyes sparkled with the thrill of, presumably, rescuing reckless strangers. “Didn’t know firefighters made house calls.”

“Only the off-duty ones with nothing better to do,” he replied, a hint of a grin tugging at his mouth. "Now, can I come in and shut that alarm off for you, or are you planning to fight it out with your smoke detector all night?"

Reluctantly, you let go of the door, allowing him to step inside. He wasted no time reaching up to the beeping menace, silencing it with a practiced jab at the button. You couldn’t help but notice the sleeves of his t-shirt tighten around his arms as he reached up, the sliver of tattooed skin poking out from above his belt.

"Thanks," you muttered, crossing your arms as he looked back to you, his eyes sweeping over your chaotic kitchen, over your clearly naked body, and then back to your face, as if assessing the full scene. The corners of his lips quirked up as he turned to the oven, waving a hand at the remaining smoke.

You sighed, letting the last of your defenses fall. “You’re really not going to murder me, are you?”

"Not today," he chuckled, a low, warm sound that filled the small space. Your eyes caught on the way his strong hands moved, sure and gentle as he maneuvered around your kitchen. You leaned against the counter, pretending you weren’t staring at the way his arms flexed under the faded fabric.

He caught you looking, and to your utter embarrassment, he gave a small grin. “So… what exactly was this supposed to be?" he asked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he stepped closer, holding the charred remains of whatever had been inside.

“Oh shit. Mrs Fuller’s birthday cake,” you groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. “I completely forgot I was baking that.” Great. Just another obstacle in the way of your early night.

“Hey, sorry about the window,” he murmured.

“Hm?” you asked, your voice distant, not really processing his words.

“The window,” he repeated, gesturing upward, your gaze following his hand to the ceiling. “Was only trying to get your attention,” he continued, his voice dipping into something apologetic. “Didn’t mean to break it.”

You shook your head, finally dragging your focus back to the mess in front of you. “It’s whatever,” you muttered, keeping your tone neutral, though your chest ached with the effort. “Just another point on my to-do list. Thanks for…” You gestured vaguely at the bakery, your voice trailing off.

“I can come by and fix it,” he offered, his voice tentative, like he wasn’t sure if you’d bite his head off or accept the help.

“I can do it,” you snapped, your words sharper than you intended. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger, and you could feel your control slipping. You needed him to leave, needed the space to let the tears spill over before they choked you entirely.

When you glanced up, you saw the change in his expression. The slight upturn of his lips faltered and turned into a somber frown. He looked at you like he wanted to ask something but thought better of it.

“Sorry,” you mumbled quickly, the heat of guilt flushing your face. “I’ve got it covered. Thanks, though.”

For a moment, he stood there, his weight shifting from one foot to the other. He glanced between you and the broken cake, the smoke still lingering above, and something in his eyes softened. He looked like he wanted to argue but thought better of it, nodding instead.

“Alright,” he said, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you cut in, desperate now. “It’s fine.”

He hesitated, his brow knitting tighter as if he wanted to say something else, but after a moment, he nodded. "Alright. If you’re sure."

You nodded back, barely looking at him, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if holding yourself together. The silence between you stretched until, mercifully, he turned and walked away.

The door creaked slightly as it began to close behind him, the faint sound of his trainers scuffing against the floor fading. You thought that was the end of it, but then the footsteps stopped. For a moment, the room held its breath, the silence pressing down like the weight in your chest.

Then, the door eased back open, just enough for him to lean his head inside. His dark eyes met yours, hesitant but determined, like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake but decided to do it anyway.

“Harry,” he said, his voice soft but clear as it cut through the stillness. He lingered there in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame, his shoulders tense as though bracing for rejection. “That’s my name. Harry.”

The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile but not far from it. You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sudden reappearance, the unexpected vulnerability in the way he said it. He waited, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response.

Your lips curved, just barely, into a weak but genuine smile. “Harry,” you repeated softly, like you were trying the name on for size. Then you added, “I’m…” Your voice faltered for a split second, but you pressed on, offering him your name in return. “Y/n.”

A spark of something warm flickered in his eyes, a hint of relief mingled with curiosity. He nodded once, as if committing it to memory, before straightening up and gripping the edge of the door.

And then he was gone.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning back against the counter. Your knees felt weak, your chest tight, and the dam you’d been holding back began to crack. You stared at the mess around you, the cake you’d worked so hard on reduced to a heap of blackened crumbs, the endless pile of orders still waiting for you, and the tears you’d been fighting finally broke free.

It wasn’t just the window. It wasn’t just the cake. It was everything. The weight of trying to do it all alone, the exhaustion that clung to you like a second skin, the constant feeling that no matter how hard you worked, it was never enough.

You slid down to the floor, your back against the counter, letting the sobs come. For a moment, you allowed your emotions to swallow you, the frustration, the helplessness, the crushing loneliness. But even as you cried, part of you knew this couldn’t keep happening. Something had to give.

You pulled out your phone, typing a quick text to Claire. we’ll start looking for help tomorrow. promise.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, slumped against the counter, staring blankly at the mess surrounding you. The tears had stopped at some point, leaving behind a dull ache in your chest and the gritty sensation of salt drying on your cheeks. But soft rapping on the door pulled you out of your misery.

Wiping at your face with unsteady hands, you forced yourself to your feet, every movement feeling heavier than the last. When you opened the door, there he was: Harry, standing in the dim light, his arms full of cardboard, duct tape, and what looked like sheets of plastic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice raw and quieter than you’d meant it to be.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he nudged his way past you into the bakery, not waiting for permission, and glanced down at the materials in his arms. “You can’t leave the window broken in this cold,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Harry, it’s fine—” you began, stepping toward him, but he cut you off without looking up.

“It’s not fine,” he said firmly, his voice calm but resolute.

You stared at him for a moment, his gaze hard as he looked back at you.

“Come on. Help me with this window,” he murmured, waiting for you to lead the way upstairs. When you didn’t move, he shifted the materials in his arms, freeing up his right hand before reaching out and pulling at your wrist.

It sent a chill straight through you, sharp and unexpected.

You froze for a second, your breath catching in your throat. His touch was fleeting, a playful tug, but it left behind a heat that spread across your skin, unbidden and unwelcome. You pulled your hand back too quickly, clutching it to your side as if it had been burned, though the sensation was far from painful.

He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. He kept waiting, his focus unwavering, but you couldn’t say the same.

There was a hum beneath your ribs now, something restless and alive, thrumming just below the surface. Attraction. You recognized it immediately, though you almost wished you didn’t. It didn’t make sense. You barely knew this man. He wasn’t someone you’d invited into your world, not really, and yet here he was - ready to fix your window, trying to fix your life, filling your space, making you feel something you hadn’t expected and didn’t know how to handle.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to push it down, to smother the thought before it took root. It was nothing. A moment. A reaction to being exhausted, overwhelmed, and vulnerable. But when he turned to look at you, his gaze steady and clear, it was all you could do to keep your knees from buckling.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soft, and you swore you could feel it reverberate somewhere deep inside you.

“Fine,” you said too quickly, your voice tight and uneven. You cleared your throat, pushing past him to the stairs. “I’ll show you the bathroom, but I need to get started on redoing this cake,” you told him, cocking your head back towards the kitchen.

Harry raised his eyebrows, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. “No.”

His hand pressed into your lower back, pushing you closer to the stairs. “I know better than anyone that being tired in the kitchen is a bad idea. When does Mrs. Fuller need her cake?”

“Tomorrow evening,” you mumbled, hesitating as your toes hovered over the first step. Your voice was low, almost apologetic, but the weariness that gripped you made it impossible to summon anything stronger.

“Then you can deal with it tomorrow,” Harry said firmly, cutting off any protest before it could begin. His tone softened just slightly as he added, “After you’ve had a full night’s sleep.”

You turned back to face him, scowling instinctively. You were used to handling things on your own, not being told what to do, no matter how reasonable the suggestion might be. “You’re kind of overbearing, you know that?”

Harry only grinned, his expression as maddeningly charming as ever. “Wouldn’t be doing my duty if I wasn’t.” The hand on your lower back nudged you gently, urging you up the stairs as if you were a stubborn child refusing to go to bed.

You bit down on your lower lip, the indents of your teeth starting to feel like a permanent feature. As much as Harry was overstepping, he was clearly just as stubborn as you were, and it felt good to have someone forcibly taking care of you - not backing off in the hopes that you’d come around to their suggestions.

“In here,” you murmured when you reached the top of the stairs, an icy chill already filling your apartment. “I’m sure you can work out which one it is.”

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Harry slipped past you, your heart almost stopping as you realised for the first time that you were still just in your robe, a deep flush creeping up your cheeks, the scarlet heat of embarrassment burning through you just as Harry’s gaze flicked back toward you. His eyes swept over you briefly, lingering for only a moment at the hem of the robe before he cleared his throat and turned away.

“I’ve got it from here,” he said quietly, his voice steady and measured as he moved toward the window. He nudged a shard of glass away from your bare feet before giving you a pointed look. “Go on.”

You hesitated, torn between retreating to your bedroom and stubbornly insisting on staying. Ultimately, the embarrassment won out. You turned quickly, rushing to your room, your mind racing as that small, insistent voice in the back of your head screamed at you to not pull on your ratty old pajamas.

And yet, despite the voice, that’s exactly what you did. A threadbare cotton t-shirt and a pair of faded sweatpants found their way onto your body as you sat heavily on the edge of the bed, cradling your face in your hands.

There was a man in your bathroom, a man who quite clearly only wanted to help you - the same man you’d practically forcibly removed from the property. The same man that was causing some sort of chemical imbalance within you.

You’d have to grovel if you ever wanted to see him again - as if he’d ever want to see you again. You’d done nothing but snap at him and act like he was inconveniencing you.

Harry had seen you at your worst, your very worst, and you weren’t entirely sure you owed yourself the chance for him to see you at your best.

But you wanted him to.

You shook your head, forced yourself back to your feet and padded toward the bathroom. You stopped in the doorway, stunned, as he worked quickly, fitting cardboard over the shattered glass, layering plastic sheets on top, securing everything with careful strips of tape.

“I could’ve done it,” you muttered after a moment, your voice shaking despite yourself.

He glanced back at you briefly, his strong hands still busy with the repair, a smirk on those taunting lips. “Maybe. But you didn’t.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, staring at the makeshift patch and the man who had put it together. The tightness in your chest eased slightly, though a storm of inner turmoil was brewing.

“Thanks,” you said finally, the word coming out soft and uneven.

He nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Don’t mention it.” He hesitated, glancing at you with a look that felt entirely too knowing. “You should take a break,” he said, his voice gentler now. “Get some rest, maybe. You look... worn out.”

You huffed a weak laugh, though it sounded more like a scoff. “Gee, thanks,” you said, trying to mask the lump rising in your throat.

He flashed you that dimpled grin, straightening up as he placed the last strip of tape on the window.

“That’ll hold for now. But you’ll need to get it sorted properly before the weather turns,” Harry murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

You followed him back downstairs, reiterating that yes, you’d get it sorted. Yes, you’d stay out of the kitchen that night. Yes, you’d double check how to work your alarms. Yes, you’d double check the ovens before you went upstairs. No, you didn’t want your business and home to burn down.

He turned to you when he reached the door, his green eyes laced with sincerity. “Take care of yourself, y/n. Seriously.”

And then he was gone, leaving behind a patched window and an unsettling quiet. But for once, you couldn’t find a reason not to follow the advice given to you. You were exhausted, and suddenly desperate to dream of the firefighter who’d all but swept you off your feet.

thank you so much for reading 🤍

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#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles au #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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kysstar · 2 months ago

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BABY, I'M YOURS | CHOI JONGHO

pairing : : choi jongho x fem!reader

synopsis : : jongho has always loved you quietly — not with big gestures, but with small, consistent things: walking you home, remembering how you take your coffee, holding the umbrella even when he’s getting soaked. you’ve dated other guys, chased louder versions of love, but nothing ever felt as safe as his silence.

genre : : established relationship

warnings : : none

word count : : 0.6k

[ series masterlist ]

—Jongho hears the jingle of your keys before the door even clicks open. The soft rustle of your coat, the weight of your bag dropping onto the floor, and your voice — low and tired but still so familiar — calling out from the hallway.

“I’m home.”

It’s only two words, but it still makes his chest go warm.

He doesn’t call back right away. He’s in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove with one hand, scrolling through a half-followed recipe on his phone with the other.

Then, he feels it — your arms slipping around his waist, your face pressing into the middle of his back, cold from outside and completely exhausted. He exhales, breath catching slightly at the contact. Your presence wraps around him in that slow, familiar way — like a favorite blanket pulled over shoulders.

“You’re early,” he says quietly, glancing over his shoulder though he doesn’t expect a reply.

“Mmm,” you hum, barely audible. “Boss let me leave before I started swearing in front of clients.”

He laughs under his breath, letting the rhythm of your breathing sync with his. “Sounds about right.”

“Pasta okay?” he asks, stirring again, keeping his voice low like he doesn’t want to startle the peace that’s settled around you both.

“You could serve me burnt toast and I’d still say thank you,” you mumble, breath warming the cotton of his back. “But yeah. Pasta sounds good.”

Dinner ends up on the couch, in mismatched bowls, eaten under a shared blanket. You sit curled into his side, knees drawn up, your feet tucked between the cushions, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. You talk a little — venting about your coworkers, complaining about the commute, laughing in that tired way that sounds more like relief than amusement.

He listens, nodding, occasionally adding in a soft comment or chuckle. But mostly, he watches. Watches the way your eyes get sleepy halfway through a sentence, the way your fingers curl around the rim of your bowl, the way you lean into him like gravity just keeps pulling you closer.

When the dishes are abandoned in the sink for tomorrow and the lights are dimmed, you both end up back on the couch, wrapped in each other more than the blanket. You’re in one of his shirts now, sleeves rolled up messily, and your hair is still a little damp from a quick shower. He sits first, back against the cushions, and you climb over him, half-asleep already, shifting until your head finds his chest and your legs tangle with his like it’s second nature.

Your arm drapes loosely across his waist, palm splayed warm against his side. Your cheek presses into his chest, your breath slow and steady, syncing with the rise and fall beneath you.

Jongho tilts his head slightly until your hair brushes under his chin. He lets his hand rest on your back, rubbing slow circles through the fabric of his shirt, on you now, like he could soothe even the echoes of your bad day.

He lowers his eyes to look at you, your face relaxed in sleep now, no tension between your brows, no tightness in your jaw. Like the weight you carried all day has finally settled somewhere gentle.

He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face with careful fingers, then rests his hand there, lightly against your temple, as if holding you in place would keep the moment from slipping.

He kisses your forehead, barely a breath against your skin. Then leans back, lets his eyes linger, a small, helpless smile forming as he watches you sleep.

He could stay like this forever.

And if the world asked him to move — he wouldn’t.

#𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #choi jongho x reader #jongho x reader #choi jongho #jongho #choi jongho oneshot #jongho oneshot #jongho fluff #choi jongho fluff #jongho ateez #choi jongho ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #jongho scenarios #jongho fanfic

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flux1563 · 3 months ago

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Something New ft tzuyu

Tags : NTR, first time squirting, creampie, male reader

Words : 8K

On a quiet morning, Tzuyu could be found in her garden, tending to her blossoming flowers with meticulous care. The warmth of the sun and the gentle hum of bees painted a serene picture of suburban tranquility. The scent of lavender and roses filled the air, creating a soothing melody that seemed to resonate with her soul. As she plucked a stray weed, a sudden rustle in the bushes by the fence snapped her out of her reverie.

Her neighbor, y/n, emerged, looking slightly flustered. Tzuyu offered a friendly smile, but his eyes lingered on her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. She had noticed his glances before, but had always brushed them off as harmless admiration for her gardening skills. However, today there was something different about his gaze, something more intense, almost hungry.

Tzuyu's husband was often away for work, leaving her alone in the house during the week. Their marriage was a bastion of love and trust, a bond that had only grown stronger with the passing of time. Whenever she felt lonely, she would take solace in the company of her plants, the only confidants that truly understood the silent poetry of her heart.

He cleared his throat, interrupting the symphony of her thoughts. "Your flowers are looking beautiful, as always," he said, his voice thick with unspoken intentions. Tzuyu felt a knot form in her stomach, her smile stiffening as she replied, "Thank you, y/n. I enjoy taking care of them." She tried to keep her tone light, hoping that her unease wasn't too apparent.

"Where is your husband?" he asked, his eyes never leaving hers. The question was simple, yet it hung in the air, loaded with a meaning that made her heart race. Tzuyu swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. "Oh, he's at work," she replied, her voice a little too high-pitched. "He won't be back until this night."

The invitation came suddenly, as unexpected as the first drops of rain in a storm. "Would you want to have breakfast with me inside my house?" His smile was charming, but it didn't reach his eyes, which remained focused on her with an intensity that made her feel like a butterfly pinned to a board. "Thank you, y/n," she began, her mind racing to find the right words. "But I've already had my breakfast. Maybe another time?"

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But it's just a simple meal, I promise. Nothing too heavy. I just baked some cookies. They're your favorite, aren't they?" His words were sweet, but they left a bitter taste in her mouth. Tzuyu felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead as she tried to find a polite way to decline. "That's very kind of you," she said, her voice steady despite her racing thoughts.

After a moment of tension, she relented. "Alright, I'll have a quick bite." She hoped that by accepting, she could put an end to the persistent tension that had been building between them. As she followed him into his house, the air grew heavier, the scent of his cologne suffocating the floral notes she had carried with her from the garden. The walls of his kitchen were lined with pictures of his family, and she felt a pang of guilt for even considering his offer. Yet, she couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had wrapped around her like a tightening noose.

The kitchen was meticulously clean, but it was the sight of the cookies on the table that made her pause. They were indeed her favorite, a recipe she had shared with him during one of their casual chats over the fence. The buttery aroma filled the room, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to be swayed by the gesture. They sat across from each other, the silence thick enough to cut with a knife. She picked one up, its warmth seeping into her fingertips, and took a bite. The sweetness exploded on her tongue, a stark contrast to the bitter taste that still lingered from their interaction.

"Where is your family?" she asked, her eyes lingering on the smiling faces in the photos. She needed to remind herself that she was just being neighborly, that she had nothing to fear from a man who was, after all, just lonely.

"I haven't married, Tzuyu," he replied with a sad smile, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's just me here, alone."

The simple statement sent a chill down her spine. She had always assumed that his flirtatiousness was harmless, a way to pass the time, but now she wasn't so sure. He leaned back in his chair, watching her intently as she nibbled on the cookie. The click of the lock echoed through the house like a gunshot in the stillness of the night, and she looked up to see him close the kitchen door, a smug expression on his face.

Tzuyu felt the room close in around her. She had made a mistake coming here, she realized with a sinking feeling. The walls of his house suddenly seemed like the bars of a cage, and she was the unsuspecting animal trapped within. The photos of happy families now seemed like taunts, a stark contrast to the reality she found herself in.

With the cookie still in her hand, she tried to keep her voice calm. "What are you doing?" she asked, her eyes flicking to the locked door.

He's smile grew wider, revealing a hint of something darker. "I just wanted some privacy, Tzuyu," he said, his tone casual.

Before she could react, y/n leaned across the table, his hand snaking around her waist. His lips met hers, and she felt his desperation in the way he kissed her, a desperation that made her stomach churn. She pushed against him with all her might, but his grip was like steel, his mouth unyielding. Panic flooded her, and she fought back with all the strength she could muster.

"U can't escape from here, Tzuyu," he murmured against her lips, his breath hot and heavy. "My house is soundproof." His voice was low, a dark promise that sent a cold shiver down her spine. She could hear the triumph in his tone, and it fueled her struggle. Tzuyu's hands flew to his face, her nails digging into his skin as she tried to push him away. His eyes narrowed at the resistance, but his smile remained, twisted and sinister.

"Just accept what I'm going to give you, so you'll feel good instead of hurt," he said, his voice a slick whisper that made her skin crawl. Tzuyu's mind raced, her heart hammering in her chest. "I can't," she said firmly, pushing against him again. "I'm married, y/n."

He pulled back slightly, his grip loosening. "But you're so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes tracing the contours of her face. "I've watched you for so long, and I can't help but want to be close to you." His words were a seduction, but they held no charm for Tzuyu. She felt the weight of his desire like a leaden cloak, suffocating her.

"I promise, only this time," he said, his voice a sweet lie that made her stomach clench. "Let me show you how much I care for you." His hand slid up to cup her cheek, and she flinched at his touch.

She took a deep breath and nodded, playing along for the moment. "Okay," she whispered, her voice shaking. "After this, I can come back to my home, and we will keep it as a secret."

Y/n's eyes lit up at her submission, his smile widening. He leaned back in his chair, releasing her waist. "Of course," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness. "It will be our little secret."

He was speaking to himself "When I start using Tzuyu, she will crave for my 10 inches BWC. Then she'll come back to me willingly.".

He leaned in for another kiss, and this time, Tzuyu didn't resist. Instead, she wrapped her hand around his neck, drawing him closer. His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign of hesitation, but all he saw was a quiet determination. He took her acceptance as a victory and deepened the kiss, his hands moving to encircle her waist.

"Ahh," she gasped, when he start to kiss her neck.

Her heart was racing, but not with fear anymore. An unexpected warmth spread through her body, and she found herself leaning into his touch. His kisses grew more insistent, and she felt a strange thrill at his passion. His hands roamed over her, igniting a fire within her that she had not felt in a long time. She closed her eyes, letting the moment wash over her, trying to drown out the voice of doubt that whispered in the back of her mind.

The sound of fabric ripping brought her back to reality with a jolt. She opened her eyes to find y/n tearing her clothes off, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He had her pinned against the kitchen counter, his hands moving with a surprising gentleness that belied the desperation of his actions.

Tzuyu's shirt lay in shreds at her feet, and she felt the cool air kiss her bare skin as he revealed her lacy bra. He traced the outline of her breasts with his thumbs, his eyes never leaving hers. With a flick of his wrists, he unclipped the clasp, and her breasts spilled out, her hard pink nipples standing at attention.

Y/n leaned in, his breath hot against her chest as he took in the sight before him. His mouth watered, and without any further preamble, he captured one of her nipples between his teeth, giving it a gentle tug before flicking his tongue across it. Tzuyu couldn't help but let out a soft moan, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. His hands were everywhere, cupping and squeezing, his touch both firm and tender.

Her own hands found his belt, fumbling with the buckle as she felt the pressure building inside her. His eyes grew darker, and she could feel his arousal pressing against her thigh. He groaned, the sound deep and primal, and she knew that he was as lost in the moment as she was. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her pants, and with a swift movement, pulled them down along with her underwear. She stepped out of them, leaving a pool of fabric at her feet.

Tzuyu was now fully exposed to y/n's gaze, her shaved pink pussy glistening with arousal. He stood before her, his eyes feasting on every inch of her body as if it were the most exquisite work of art he had ever seen.

"Don't stare at me like that," she murmured, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red.

But y/n couldn't help it. He had never seen a woman more beautiful than Tzuyu, especially not when she was naked and trembling with desire. He stood up from the chair, his eyes never leaving hers, and began to strip away his own clothes. His shirt came off first, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and abs, each one sculpted from years of hard work and discipline. Tzuyu's eyes widened as she took in the sight, her breath hitching in her throat. He knew she liked what she saw. His pants followed, revealing the bulge that had been straining against the fabric for what felt like an eternity. He stepped out of them, his boxers the last barrier to fall. His cock sprang free, long and thick, standing proud and erect.

"I didn't know you have a very big white dick," Tzuyu murmured, her voice a mix of awe and trepidation. The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. But y/n didn't seem to mind. If anything, the admission only made him more aroused.

He stepped closer to her, his cock swaying with each step. "It's 10 inches long," he said with a smug smile. "And the girth is 3 inches." His hand wrapped around it, giving it a slow stroke. "Even your husband's doesn't come close, does it?"

Tzuyu nodded, unable to take her eyes off the monstrous cock before her. It was true, her husband was not this big. But she had never felt the need for anything more than what they shared. Until now. The thought of his thick member sliding into her made her pussy throb with need. She nodded again, more to herself than to him. "You are right," she murmured, her voice a mere whisper.

Without another word, y/n scooped her into his arms, her naked body fitting against his like they were two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he carried her through the hallway, her bare skin brushing against his, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. She could feel his heart beating against her chest, the rhythm matching the tempo of her own.

The couch in the living room beckoned, and he laid her down upon it with surprising care. The plush cushions molded to her body, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat that radiated from within her. His hands remained on her hips, holding her in place as he stepped back to admire her. Tzuyu felt vulnerable, exposed under his gaze, but she couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through her veins.

"Now," his voice low and commanding. "Take me inside your mouth."

Tzuyu stared at the massive cock standing before her, the tip glistening with precum. She felt a mix of fear and excitement, the thought of his size making her mouth water and her pussy clench. "I don't know if I can take it," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

"Don't worry," y/n said with a smirk, his grip on her hips tightening. "You'll get used to it. Just open your mouth and let me guide you."

Tzuyu swallowed hard and leaned forward, her eyes locked on the tip of his cock. She parted her lips and felt the heat of his erection against her skin. He leaned in closer, his hand guiding her head to take him in. His cock slid into her mouth, and she tasted the saltiness of his precum. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. He began to move, pushing deeper with each stroke, and she had to fight the urge to gag.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through her entire body. "Take it all."

Her cheeks hollowed as she took more and more of him, his hand gently pressing the back of her head. He was so thick that she could feel herself stretching around him, and the sensation was both terrifying and thrilling. She had never been with a man this size before, and she had no idea how she would handle it when the time came for him to enter her.

"Just relax, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her nerves. "Breath through your nose, baby."

Tzuyu did as he said, her eyes watering slightly as she took him deeper. Her tongue danced around his shaft, tasting every inch of his manhood.

Suddenly, y/n's gentle guidance turned to a firm grip, and he started to thrust his hips, his dick sliding in and out of her mouth with increasing roughness. She gagged, but he didn't stop, his eyes locked on hers, the pleasure etched on his face unmistakable. She could feel her throat stretching, the sensation of being filled so completely both overwhelming and exhilarating.

"Fuck, you're so tight and warm," he grunted, his grip on her hair tightening. The words sent a jolt of pleasure through Tzuyu's body, and she felt her pussy clench around the emptiness. Despite the fear and the guilt, she found herself getting wetter, her body responding to the raw power and dominance he exuded.

Tzuyu's eyes watered as he pushed himself further into her mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of her throat. She gagged, but he didn't relent. His eyes were closed, his face a mask of pure ecstasy as he fucked her mouth.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his hips jerking erratically. "Your throat is so fucking good."

Tzuyu braced herself, her eyes wide as he pulled out of her mouth, the tip of his cock pulsing with the promise of release. He didn't give her time to react as he painted her face with ropes of white hot cum, the thick liquid spurting over her cheeks and nose, landing in her eyes and mouth. She squealed in surprise and pleasure, the sensation of his warm seed on her skin sending a shiver down her spine.

He stared down at her, his eyes dark with desire as she sat there, panting and covered in his cum. His chest heaved with the effort of his orgasm, his cock still twitching in his hand. The sight of her like this, vulnerable and debased, made him feel more powerful than he had ever felt before.

Tzuyu's eyes fluttered closed as she felt the warmth spread over her face, the sticky liquid clinging to her lashes and trickling down her neck. She licked her lips, tasting the saltiness of his seed, and felt an unexpected surge of arousal. She had never been treated this way before, never been so thoroughly claimed, and it was intoxicating.

"Open your eyes," he said, his voice a low growl. "I want you to see what you do to me."

Tzuyu's eyes snapped open, her vision blurred by the cum that had spattered across her face. She watched as y/n's gaze fell to her chest, his eyes lingering on her breasts, which were heaving with every shallow breath she took. His hand moved down to her stomach, tracing the soft curves before coming to rest between her thighs.

"Now it's my time to make you feel good," he murmured, his voice a dark promise that sent a shiver down her spine. Without waiting for a response, he knelt before her, his mouth descending to her shaved pink pussy. The first touch of his tongue was like a bolt of lightning, sending a shock of pleasure through her core. He licked her slowly, savoring the taste of her arousal, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Ahhh... So good," Tzuyu gasped, her body arching off the couch. She had never felt anything quite like this before. His tongue was a masterful tool, tracing her folds and teasing her clit in a way that had her toes curling. Her hands found his hair, tangling in the soft strands as she held him to her, urging him on. She could feel the tension building, the coil of desire tightening with each flick and suck.

"Fuck," she moaned, the word slipping from her lips without thought. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he added a finger, pushing into her wetness with ease. "Keep it going," she begged, the need for release a physical ache. His pace didn't falter, the steady rhythm of his tongue and finger driving her closer and closer to the edge.

The world around them disappeared, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the slick wetness of their intimate dance. Tzuyu's hips began to buck, her body moving of its own accord to meet his touch. The pressure grew, a delicious agony that made her nails dig into the couch cushions.

"Fuck, y/n, I'm gonna cum," she panted, her voice a desperate plea. His eyes never left hers as he increased his pace, his two fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that had her back bowing off the couch. His tongue danced around her clit, the sensation so intense she could feel her orgasm building like a wave ready to crest.

Her leg shot up, trembling in the air as her toes curled. The muscles in her thigh quivered with the effort of holding herself in place, her whole body tightening with each pulse of pleasure that shot through her. Her breathing grew heavier, her chest heaving as she chased the release that was just out of reach.

Then, it hit her. Like a tidal wave, her orgasm crashed over her, sending her body into spasms of pleasure. "Fuck, y/n, I'm cumming so hard!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the quiet house. Her back arched off the couch, her nails digging into the fabric as she rode the wave of ecstasy. Her pussy clamped down on his fingers, her walls pulsing as she came, her juices spilling onto his hand.

Y/n watched with a smug smile, his own arousal reaching new heights as he felt her tighten around his digits. He didn't stop, his tongue flicking and licking, eager to taste every drop of her sweetness. He knew she couldn't squirt, but the way her body responded to him, the way she writhed and screamed, was more than enough. It was power, pure and simple, and he reveled in it.

Her climax seemed to go on forever, her body shaking and quivering as the pleasure consumed her. Tzuyu had never felt anything so intense before, and she was both scared and exhilarated by it. Her eyes squeezed shut, she focused on the feeling of his mouth on her, the pressure of his fingers inside her.

Y/n was relentless, his tongue swirling and flicking against her sensitive clit, even as she bucked and thrashed beneath him. He could feel her pussy tighten around his digits, her juices flowing more freely with each wave of pleasure that crashed over her. Despite her protests, he didn't stop, eager to test her limits and push her further than she had ever been before.

"I want to know if you can squirt," he murmured against her clit, his voice muffled by her flesh. His words were a challenge, a declaration of his intent to claim her in every way possible. His fingers curled inside her, hitting that special spot that made her eyes roll back in her head.

"I'm not a squirter," she gasped, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Y/n paused, his fingers still buried inside her, his tongue lingering against her sensitive bud. He studied her flushed face, the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her breaths coming in pants. He knew she was telling the truth, but that didn't deter him. If he couldn't make her squirt, he would settle for something else. He wanted to hear her scream his name in pleasure, to see the look of utter abandon on her face when she climaxed again.

"If you say so, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a dark promise. He withdrew his fingers, watching the way she shivered with the loss of his touch.

Tzuyu's voice was barely above a whisper as she spoke. "Is okay, y/n," she said, her voice trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. "You've already given me the best orgasms I've ever had." Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotion.

Y/n's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating at the admission. He knew he had her now, and he was eager to show her just how much more he could give her. He stood, his cock still rock hard from her mouth and her tight pussy. "You're so sweet, Tzuyu," he murmured, his voice a caress. "But we're not done yet."

With surprising agility, he turned her over, her ass in the air, her breasts pressed against the couch. He positioned himself behind her, his cock nudging against her wetness. She tensed, feeling the sheer size of him, but she didn't protest. She wanted this, she wanted him to fill her completely, to stretch her in ways she had never been stretched before.

"Now," she whispered, her voice shaking with anticipation. "Fuck me, y/n. I want to feel your 10 inches inside me."

His eyes glinted with excitement as he positioned himself at her entrance. He knew she was ready for him, her pussy slick and inviting, begging to be filled. But instead of pushing into her, he decided to tease her a little more. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down her slit, watching as she squirmed and gasped beneath him.

"Beg for it, Tzuyu," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her entire body. "Tell me you need more."

"Please," she whispered, the word barely audible. "Fuck me already." "Fuck me like a dirty whore who craving for big dick, just wrecked my little pussy"

He's grin grew wider as he listened to her desperate pleas. He could feel his cock throb at the sound of her voice, the way she begged for it. He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his cock nudging against her swollen folds. She was so wet, so ready for him, and he could feel her pussy quivering with anticipation.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed forward, watching as her eyes went wide with shock and pleasure. Her tight walls stretched around his girth, the feeling of her warmth enveloping him almost too much to bear. He groaned as he sank deeper, feeling every inch of her, the heat of her body surrounding him like a velvet vice.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his voice strained with the effort of not giving in to his own desires. He held still for a moment, letting her adjust to his size. He could feel her muscles tense around him, and he knew that she was fighting the urge to push him out. But she didn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and pushed back, taking him in even further.

Tzuyu's eyes squeezed shut as he began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm that had her panting and gripping the couch. She could feel the pressure of his cock against her stomach with each deep stroke, and she knew that he was holding back. He was too big for her to handle all at once.

"Fuckk," she screamed, the sound echoing through the room. "I can feel it, it's bulging under my stomach."

He didn't respond with words, instead, his hips picked up the pace, driving into her with a ferocity that made her toes curl. She was so tight, so warm, and the way she was taking him, inch by inch, was driving him wild. He gripped her hips, his knuckles white with the effort of holding back. He knew he could take her harder, faster, but he didn't want to hurt her.

"Just fuck me as hard as you can," Tzuyu begged again, her voice raw with need.

He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, his cock still buried deep inside her. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Once I start, I won't be able to stop."

"Yes," she panted, her voice urgent. "Fuck me, y/n. Make me scream."

With a low growl, y/n gave in to her pleas. His grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he began to pound into her with everything he had. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, her pussy stretching to accommodate his massive girth. Her cries filled the room, a mix of pain and pleasure as he claimed her completely. She could feel her walls stretching around him, the sensation so intense it was almost too much to bear.

"Yes, yes, yes," she chanted, her voice growing louder with each thrust. The couch beneath her creaked with the force of their lovemaking, the fabric scratching at her bare skin. Her hands clutched at the cushions, her nails leaving little half-moons in the fabric. The world around her narrowed to the feeling of his cock filling her, the sound of their bodies slapping together.

Y/n's grip on her hips grew bruising, his breath hot and ragged against her neck. "Fuck, Tzuyu," he groaned, his hips pumping harder. "You're so tight. So wet." His words only served to spur her on, her pussy clenching around him like a vice. She could feel the orgasm building, the pressure growing with each stroke.

"Yeah, don't you dare to stop," she gasped, her voice a desperate whine. "I'm gonna cum, y/n. Make me cum with your big white cock." The words sent him over the edge, and he picked up the pace, driving into her with a ferocity that had her seeing stars. She was so close, so close to that sweet release. Her nails dug into the couch, the fabric tearing under the force of her grip.

"Fuck, yes," she screamed as her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing around his cock. Her pussy clamped down on him, pulsing with the intensity of her climax. Y/n felt her tighten around him and knew she was close, so close to the edge.

He gripped her hips harder, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he felt his own release approaching. "Come for me, Tzuyu," he grunted, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

Her walls tightened around him, the sensation like nothing he had ever felt before. "I'm cumming," she screamed, her voice raw and unbridled. "I'm cumming so much!" Her orgasm washed over her, her entire body shaking with the intensity of it. Her pussy clamped down on him, her juices flooding out and soaking the couch beneath her.

For a moment, he stilled, his cock buried deep inside her as he watched her come apart. He could feel the tremors of her release, the way her body spasmed around him. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and he felt a strange mix of pride and possessiveness. She was his, now and forever.

"U have a stamina of a monster, y/n," Tzuyu panted, her voice filled with amazement and a hint of challenge.

Y/n chuckled, his strokes never faltering as he continued to pound into her. "I've had plenty of practice," he said, his voice filled with a dark amusement that sent shivers down her spine. "But you, my dear, are something special."

Tzuyu's body was a maelstrom of sensation, each of her nerve endings singing with pleasure. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by the need for another's touch. Each time he filled her completely, she felt herself shattering into a million little pieces, only to be reassembled by the next stroke.

The couch groaned beneath them, a testament to their frenzied passion. She could feel the fabric of the couch cushions digging into her knees as she was pushed further and further into the furniture, her body taking all of him with surprising ease. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and she bit her bottom lip to muffle the cries that kept escaping her mouth.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic crescendo that seemed to crescendo with each pulse of her heart. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she could feel her body tighten around him once more. He was relentless, his hips never stopping as he fucked her with a passion that seemed to be fueled by an endless well of desire.

Y/n's grunts grew louder, his breaths ragged in her ear as he whispered dark promises of never-ending pleasure. His hand snaked around her waist to play with her clit, the added sensation making her toes curl. "I'm going to fill you up, Tzuyu," he groaned, his voice a mix of pleasure and possessiveness. "You're going to feel me deep inside you, my seed claiming you."

Tzuyu's eyes snapped open, the reality of his words hitting her like a sledgehammer. But instead of fear, she felt a strange thrill, a yearning to be claimed by this man who had so thoroughly taken her over. "Do it,"

she whispered, her voice hoarse with need. "Make a baby to me."

Y/n's eyes widened with shock at her words, but the desire in her voice was unmistakable. He didn't need any more encouragement. He slammed into her one last time, his cock reaching depths she never knew existed. With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the house, he came deep inside her, filling her womb with his hot, thick seed.

Tzuyu's body tensed around him, her own orgasm hitting her like a tsunami. Her pussy clenched and spasmed, milking him for every last drop. She felt the warmth of his cum filling her up, the sensation so intense it was almost painful. But she didn't care. She wanted this, needed this, to feel alive in a way she never had before.

As their bodies stilled, he collapsed on top of her, his weight a comforting warmth against her back. He could feel her heart racing beneath his chest, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. He kissed the back of her neck, his tongue tracing a slow, lazy pattern along her skin.

"Are you sure?" he whispered in her ear, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. "Just this one time?"

Tzuyu turned her head to look at him, her eyes glazed over with lust. "I think I can't get enough of you," she said, her voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down his spine. Her hand reached back to cup his cheek, pulling his face closer to hers. "I want you to fuck me every day, y/n. Make me scream your name until I can't even remember my own."

He's cock twitched at her words, his desire for her still raging like a wildfire. He pulled out slowly, watching as her pussy clung to him, desperate to keep him inside. Her juices coated his shaft, making it slick and shiny with need. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, but he wasn't about to argue with a goddess in the throes of passion. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

As he pulled away, she gasped, the sudden emptiness making her pussy spasm. He watched with fascination as a geyser of squirt shot out, drenching the floor beneath them. Her body trembled with the force of it, her legs shaking as she tried to remain upright. Tzuyu's eyes were wide with shock, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson.

"Fuck," she whimpered, her voice a mix of amazement and need. "I've never done that before."

Y/n's eyes widened, his cock jumping in response to the sight. "You're a natural," he said, his voice filled with awe. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

Without warning, he slammed back into her, his cock hitting her G-spot with precision. Tzuyu screamed, her body bucking against his. She could feel the pressure building again, a pressure that was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was as if her pussy had a mind of its own, demanding more of him, more of his thick cock filling her to the brim.

His strokes grew shorter, faster, his hips snapping against her ass as he pounded into her. The sound of their skin slapping together filled the room, a symphony of passion that seemed to crescendo with each thrust. She could feel herself tightening around him, her body preparing for another explosive release.

"I'm going to make you squirt again," he growled, his hands gripping her hips with a bruising force. "You're going to soak this couch with your cum, and I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head, the pleasure overwhelming her senses. She had never felt so alive, so consumed by desire. Her pussy clenched around him, her walls spasming as another orgasm built. She could feel the warmth spreading through her, the pressure growing more intense with each stroke.

"Oh, god," she moaned, her voice a desperate plea. "I'm gonna cum again."

Y/n's eyes blazed with triumph as he watched her come undone before him. He increased his pace, his cock plunging in and out of her with a ferocity that seemed to defy human endurance. He knew she was close, could feel her pussy fluttering around him like a trapped bird.

Her climax hit her like a freight train, her pussy spurting out a torrent of cum that soaked the couch and the floor. She screamed his name, her body shaking with the force of it. Her nails dug into the cushions, leaving deep gouges in the fabric as she tried to hold on to something, anything, to ground herself in the face of such intense pleasure.

Y/n didn't let up, his hips moving faster, his cock hitting deeper with each thrust. He could feel his own orgasm approaching, the pressure in his balls becoming unbearable. He reached around her, his thumb circling her clit, and she screamed, her body tightening around him. He watched in amazement as another gush of squirt spurted from her pussy, soaking the couch and pooling on the floor.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "So wet, so tight." He could feel himself growing even harder, the sight and feel of her squirting pushing him closer to the edge. His hand moved to her hip, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he held her in place.

The sensation was indescribable, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of her, the sound of her wetness filling the room. He knew she was close again, could see it in the way her back arched, her breasts jiggling with each thrust. He leaned down, his mouth claiming hers in a bruising kiss as he pushed into her one last time.

Her body convulsed around him, her pussy clenching down so tight he could feel the head of his cock pulsing inside her. With a final grunt, he pulled out, watching as her pussy spasmed, desperately trying to keep him inside. He stroked himself, his cock a blur as he watched the last of her squirt spurt out, painting the floor with her desire.

Tzuyu's eyes rolled back in her head, her body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. She had never felt so alive, so wanted, so...used. And she loved every second of it. She could feel the sticky wetness on her thighs, her pussy still pulsing with need. She opened her legs wider, inviting him back in, her voice a desperate plea.

"More," she begged, her voice a whimper. "I need more."

He didn't need any further encouragement. He plunged back into her, his cock sinking into her warm depths with ease. He could feel her tightening around him once more, her pussy greedy for his cum. His strokes grew more urgent, his hips slapping against her ass with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room.

"I'm gonna fill you up, Tzuyu," he groaned, his voice a harsh whisper. "You're going to feel me deep inside you once more."

The pressure grew, the room spinning as she felt herself climbing towards another peak. Her walls tightened around him, her body begging for release. "Do it," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I want to feel it again."

With a roar that seemed to shake the house, y/n erupted, his cock pumping ropes of hot cum into her waiting pussy. Tzuyu's body tightened around him, her own orgasm hitting like a tidal wave. She could feel him filling her, his warmth spreading through her body as she came one final time.

Their bodies remained connected for a moment, both panting and trembling with the aftermath of their passion. He kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he pulled out. She whimpered at the loss, but the feeling of his cum spilling out of her was almost as delicious as the sensation of him being inside her.

"How many times did I make you cum?" he asked, his voice a smug whisper against her ear.

"Countless," Tzuyu murmured, her body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. She felt both satisfied and insatiable, her pussy still throbbing from the pounding he had given her.

"How many times did your husband make you orgasm?" y/n questioned, his tone playful yet possessive. He knew he had taken her to heights she had never experienced before, and it filled him with a dark sense of pride.

Tzuyu's voice was a breathless whisper as she replied, "Around five, usually." Her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal as she admitted it. Despite the bliss she felt in the aftermath of her recent orgasms, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Her husband had always been attentive and loving in bed, but there was something primal and overwhelming about the way y/n had claimed her body.

"So I win," He said proudly, his chest puffing out with triumph. His eyes gleamed with victory as he looked down at her, his cock still semi-erect and glistening with their combined juices. He knew he had taken her to heights she had never experienced before, and it filled him with a dark, possessive satisfaction.

Tzuyu could only nod, her body still quivering with the aftershocks of her last orgasm. The guilt was there, but it was overshadowed by the intensity of the pleasure he had given her. She had never felt so alive, so desired. His words echoed in her mind: "How many squirt is your husband's gift? Zero." The truth of it stung, but in that moment, she didn't care. She had never been able to achieve a squirting orgasm with her husband, and the fact that y/n had brought it out of her so easily was intoxicating.

Her pussy was still quivering when she felt a new sensation, a wetness that seemed to come from within. She looked down, eyes widening in amazement as another gush of squirt spurted from her, soaking the already drenched couch cushion beneath her. "What's happening?" she gasped, her voice filled with a mix of shock and arousal.

Y/n chuckled darkly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He reached down, his fingers tracing the line of her soaking slit. "Looks like you enjoyed that," he said, his voice filled with a smug satisfaction. "Your body can't get enough of me."

Tzuyu's cheeks burned with embarrassment, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. She had squirted again, a sensation that was both foreign and incredibly arousing. Her pussy was still quivering, her walls clenching and unclenching around the emptiness left by his departure. "What... what did you do to me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Ask your pussy, not me," he said with a smirk, watching as she squirmed on the couch. He knew he had pushed her to new limits, and the power rush was intoxicating. Her hair was a tangled mess, her makeup smeared from their earlier kisses, and her body was covered in a sheen of sweat. She had never looked more beautiful.

"I need to go to my house before my husband comes," Tzuyu said again, her voice stronger this time.

Y/n chuckled and stood up, his cock still hard and covered in their mixed fluids. He walked to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open with a flourish. "Fine," he said with a wicked smirk. "But do it naked."

Tzuyu's eyes went wide with horror, but she knew arguing would be futile. She slowly rose from the couch, her legs wobbly from the intensity of her orgasms. Her body was covered in sweat, her breasts heaving with each breath she took. She felt more exposed than she ever had before, but there was also a strange sense of liberation in her nakedness.

Her first attempt to stand was a failure, her legs giving out beneath her. She stumbled, catching herself on the arm of the couch. Y/n chuckled, watching her with a predatory gaze. "Looks like my little slut can't even walk straight," he teased, his cock twitching with renewed interest.

With a grimace of determination, Tzuyu pushed herself off the couch, her legs trembling as she took one step and then another. She felt like she was walking on jelly, each step sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She was a mess, her hair in disarray and her makeup smeared, but she walked with a strange sense of pride. Each step was a declaration of the power she had found in her own sexuality.

As she approached the door, she felt the cool breeze from outside caress her sweat-drenched body, sending goosebumps across her skin. The stark contrast from the heat of their passion made her even more aware of her nakedness, her nipples tightening with every gust of wind. The reality of her situation slammed into her, but instead of fear, she felt excitement. The thrill of the forbidden was like a drug, and she was utterly addicted.

"Just walk slowly," he said with a laugh, his eyes never leaving her. She knew he enjoyed her vulnerability, the way she was forced to move with careful steps to avoid stumbling. Each movement was a testament to his dominance over her, and she found it oddly thrilling. Her legs felt like jelly, but she managed to make it to the door, her hand shaking as she gripped the handle.

The moment she stepped out into the sunlight, the reality of what had just happened hit her like a slap in the face. She was naked, her body a canvas of sweat and sperm, and her pussy was still pulsing with the aftermath of her intense orgasms. The breeze outside was cool against her skin, making her nipples tighten even further. She looked around nervously, hoping that no one would see her in this state of utter exposure.

Her house was indeed close, a mere few steps away, but it felt like an eternity as she forced her trembling legs to carry her across the short expanse of lawn that separated them. Her pussy was still flooding with a mix of his cum and her squirt, leaving a trail of wetness behind her. She felt like a slut, used and discarded, but the feeling only served to excite her further. Her mind was racing with thoughts of what her husband would say if he knew, but she pushed them aside. For now, all that mattered was getting back to the safety of her own home.

As she reached her doorstep, she fumbled with the lock, her hands slippery with their combined fluids. The key slipped from her grasp, and she had to bend over to retrieve it, giving him a clear view of her dripping pussy, which was still red from his relentless pounding. She could feel his eyes on her, and the knowledge that he was watching made her even wetter. She managed to get the key in the lock and stumbled inside, her legs giving way beneath her.

Her heart was racing as she collapsed onto the floor, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. She looked down at herself, at the mess that was her body, and couldn't believe what she had just done. But even as the guilt began to set in, she couldn't deny the thrill of it all. The way he had made her feel, the power he had over her, it was like nothing she had ever experienced before.

With shaking hands, she made her way to the shower, the warm water washing away the evidence of her infidelity. She stood there for what felt like hours, her mind racing with thoughts of y/n, his touch, his cock, his dominance. She knew she shouldn't want him, that it was wrong, but she couldn't help the way her body responded to the memory of their encounter. Her pussy clenched around the emptiness, and she found herself reaching down to touch herself, the water mixing with her arousal.

As she cleaned herself off, she felt a strange mix of emotions: guilt, fear, excitement, and desire. She knew she had to keep this a secret, that she couldn't let anyone know about her neighbor's dark gift. But as she stepped out of the shower, the scent of him still lingering on her skin, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever be able to resist the temptation to feel his cock inside her again, to let him claim her in the most primal way possible. The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized with a start that she was already planning their next rendezvous.

The sound of the door opening snapped her out of her reverie, and she rushed to dry off and put on her robe. Her husband's footsteps grew louder as he made his way to the living room, where she was hastily trying to clean up the evidence of her tryst. "Tzuyu, why is the floor wet?" he called out, his voice filled with confusion.

"I'm so sorry," she replied, her voice a mix of embarrassment and arousal as she stepped into the room. "I spilled some water from the garden hose when I was watering the plants." She hoped her lie was convincing enough to cover the reality of the situation.

Her husband looked at her with concern, noticing the flustered state she was in. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes scanning her from head to toe.

Tzuyu forced a smile, her heart racing. "Yes, I'm fine," she lied, her voice quivering slightly. She bent down to wipe the floor, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. The wetness she had hoped was just water was unmistakable. It was y/n's cum, mixed with her squirt, a glaring reminder of the passionate encounter she had just experienced. She had to think quickly.

Ready for part 2? Just share ur ideas to me

#tzuyu smut #kpop smut #male reader #twice smut #gg smut #girl group smut

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heartepub · 5 months ago

Text

if i loved you less

summary. wonwoo's biggest gamble starts a week before valentine's day. pairing. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader genre/tags. non-idol!au, friends to lovers, bookworm!reader, spoilers for a 210-year old novel, wonwoo wins most creative confession, suggestive at the end wc. 2.9k suggested listening. pretty u, seventeen // dreams, the cranberries // andante andante, abba // i will, the beatles // library card, janani k. jha // aphrodite, the ridleys

notes. late to a hearts day posting, but pls accept this humble offering in between thesis cramming! i first pitched this to kae waaay back, but unfortunately it is not royal/period au (sorry ueueue). i read aspen's accidental one night stand ww and dug around my wip's for this in a fit of madness LMAOOO as always, reblogs are appreciated and come say hi if you're so inclined 🫶🏼

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Wonwoo hands you a package wrapped in brown paper, tied neatly with twine. Your eyes light up as you accept it with a soft thank you.

“Aren’t you a week early?”

“I know,” he replies simply. “I wanted to ask you to finish reading this by Friday.” Your brow furrows.

“Is it something I can finish by then?” Wonwoo nods. You feel the weight the parcel in your hands, considering his strange request.

“What brought this on?” You ask.

The shift is subtle, but you notice it nonetheless—a flicker of something passing across his eyes, and his shoulders tensing up before he pulls them down again. Wonwoo looks away, as though steeling himself for something.

“It’s my reading recommendation.”

“Yours?” You straighten. Wonwoo’s never gifted a book to you before based on his own taste. He always based it off your reading list, after being hopelessly lost navigating a bookstore and asking the clerk for help, only to give you a book wildly different from your preferences.

You hold the book close to your chest. “Can I open it now?”

“No.”

“Fine,” you pout, then frown as a thought comes to you. “Wait. I remember telling you I’m on a ban right now.”

Normally, Wonwoo was scrupulous about following your rules, one of which being that he can’t gift you a book if your current priority was reading through the ones you already had.

He seems to weigh his words carefully before replying. “I just thought this one was too important to pass up.”

You catch how his fingers curl and uncurl in his jacket, the poor fabric already wrinkled at his fidgeting. Trying to make your voice as soothing yet nonchalant as possible, you pull your lips up to a grin, thumbing the edge of the twine ribbon. “I suppose I can make an exception for my best friend.”

It seems to have the opposite effect.

There it is again—the subtle shift in his demeanor, the miniscule purse of his lip before Wonwoo speaks. “Do you have dinner plans, or are we doing movie night again?”

“Movie night sounds good. Any requests for food?”

Normally, Wonwoo would ask you to prepare ramyeon, especially after you had figured out Mingyu’s recipe, while he brought dessert. But his reply, like everything else in this conversation, is unexpected. “I’ll handle it.” He checks his watch before leveling you with an apologetic look. “I have to run. There’s a bunch of shit to do at work between, but I’ll see you on Friday?”

If he wanted to talk to you, he would. You’d never push him to say anything he wasn’t ready to share. You repeat this to yourself, even as you nod, maintaining your façade of soothing nonchalance.

“Yeah, see you.”

For the past couple of years, Wonwoo’s gift of choice has always been a book. After your protests at the price of new titles and your steadfast allegiance to your library card, among other reasons, the rules had been laid out as follows:

Copies should, as much as possible, not be brand new. They could be from thrift stores, secondhand shops, yard sales, or those Facebook groups where owners sold their old titles. Only new releases would be the exception, and even then, indie bookstores should be the first place to look.

Refer to the Notion page of your current to-be-read list for possible titles.

If you were on a book buying ban, so is he; it’s bad enough that your shelves continue to groan under the weight of books still unread.

The first rule was for your indulgence, too. You happened to take home a volume of the Diaries of Anaïs Nin only to find notes scribbled in the marginalia, and fell in love immediately. It’s a rare thing in your collection, but you do have someone’s old Letters to Milena and Giovanni’s Room, the latter with annotations in Arabic, of all languages.

You stare at the unwrapped gift, heart in your throat.

Emma.

Wonwoo must have been lying when he said it was his recommendation; you have your own well-worn copy, annotations and all, sitting in the corner of your shelf dedicated to Austen. Hands shaking, you open your messages, snapping a photo of the book laying on the desk.

You [picture] ??? wonwoo?? (Seen)

He sees it almost immediately; three dots appear onscreen.

aa wonu It’s a gift. Don’t overthink it. But I hope you won’t get mad.

You is it smth I should be mad abt?

aa wonu Up to you.

You you know i’ve read emma, right

aa wonu Have you started reading this one yet?

You turn to Chapter 1, and gasp. There, in black ink, is Wonwoo’s familiar scrawl, remarks littering the blank space between the heading and the text. You flip through the first half, seeing how he’d write anything from a smiley face to bracket off entire passages with an exclamation point. Some brackets and underlines have longer annotations beside them that you have yet to read.

It’s all in black pen—so characteristically Wonwoo, who wouldn’t be the type to use different colored highlighters and page flags, anyway.

You oh my god. wonwoo

aa wonu The last time I read a classic was in high school Don’t judge me too harshly. Please. See you Friday?

You hesitate before replying.

You yeah ofc! see you!!

Your thumbs are shaking too badly as you type the last message; the phone gets thrown on your bed, bouncing once before resting on the pillow. A hand comes up to cover your mouth. You stare at the book, mind whirring.

Years ago, there had been a time when you entertained the thought of dating Jeon Wonwoo. In night-outs where he’d offer to get you home, a hand on your back to keep you from stumbling as you’d fumble for keys that always ended up at the bottom of your bag. He had even taken to keeping a pair of slippers in his car, in your size, for you to change into when your feet were hurting. Wonwoo never told you—he just knew your foot size, just cared in the understated, quiet way he always did. When you found out, you remember thinking that this would be the kind of man you wouldn’t mind offering your heart to. Thought that obviously he’d only do something like that for someone he was in love with.

Now, of course, after his exes and your own, and no confession in sight, you had buried your wishful thinking in the deepest parts of your heart. You’d even grown to appreciate it more, finding comfort in the care that was independent of any romantic expectation.

Wonwoo, your best friend, chose, out of all the books to annotate and gift you, Emma. You know how the story goes. He knows you know how it goes. Yet Wonwoo’s thoughts are here, immortalized and entrusted into your hands, the same hands you have now buried your face in while trying to reel in your breaths.

Today, that bird you had deprived of the sun beats its wings against your ribcage, insistent once more. Your body is simultaneously numb and buzzing with energy, as though it could not decide whether it wanted to freeze up or run a few hundred laps.

It could be nothing—could be like that time with the slippers again where you allowed yourself to be caught in your wishful thinking. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it isn’t. You don’t know if your heart can take it if it is.

You welcome Wonwoo in your apartment with a painfully bright grin, accepting his proffered bag of takeout before ushering him inside. He had offered only a soft hello, barely a smile on his face as he took off his shoes by your entrance. You couldn’t bring yourself to keep up any chatter while he washes his hands in your kitchenette, even as you busy yourself a few feet away with peeling off the tape on the plastic containers and wiping away any grease that leaked out.

“I’ll set up the table,” he breaks the silence, gaze unreadable. He’s already holding the two rice containers, and two pairs of chopsticks from your stash.

You paste on a smile, tape still sticking to your fingers. “Sure.”

He walks away. Not even when Wonwoo had broken up with his last partner, who made him choose between them and you, has it been this awkward. Steeling yourself, you join him, setting down the plate of chicken and bowl of steaming kimchi jjigae a safe distance from the laptop.

Before you begin eating, you hold up a hand for him to wait. Reaching into a nearby drawer, you pull out and offer your own present—a beta-release of a game he had been eyeing for some time now. Wonwoo’s eyes soften.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as though he hadn’t been expecting you to gift him anything.

“Of course,” you respond immediately. Wonwoo glances at you before looking away. He always sits across you when you eat, and you catch the micro-changes in his expression as he shifts, staring hard at a spot on your floor before picking up his chopsticks. He looks at anything but you. The sound of the bamboo breaking seems to echo around the space.

Eventually, it’s too much for you to bear. You square your shoulders, inhaling a quick, sharp breath.

“I thought you wouldn’t come,” you begin, tentatively.

“…I thought about not coming,” he replies, raising his eyes to meet yours, which have not yet looked way from him. He looks away again. Something in your chest twists painfully, even if your body is buzzing with repressed adrenaline.

“Do you still want to watch a movie? Or are we gonna talk about it?”

Wonwoo’s eyes are guarded. “Is there anything to talk about?” he replies, an edge in his voice. “You never messaged after that day.”

“I thought you wanted today to be the day we talked about it? Seemed like too big of a thing to discuss over text.” And you had spent the last week agonizing over what to feel, how to feel, what to say, and how to say it. He presses his lips together, fixing his gaze on the piece of napa cabbage resting on top of his rice. The broth stains the grains around it with a tint of red.

He rests his chopsticks against the rim of the bowl before leaning back, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. It’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be sorry.” The response feels automatic, but you do mean it. He has nothing to be sorry for.

You look at him, really look, searching his features. There’s something in his eyes that breaks your heart—as though he had come here already expecting heartbreak, yet showed up nonetheless.

Just like that, all the questions, any plans you had for today, vanish like smoke.

“Just—just wait here.” You set your chopsticks on your bowl. The bamboo clacks softly right before the chair creaks as you stand, stumbling back a little as you turn to your bedroom.

“Where is that—” you mutter. “Aha!” You run back to the table, where Wonwoo is waiting. Under his fingers, the takeout napkin is all but shreds, though he does try to hide it under the table once you arrive. You approach him, dragging your chair so you can sit beside him, nothing separating you.

“Hold out your hands,” you instruct. Wonwoo does, and you set down a copy of Emma on his waiting palms. But not the one he gave you the other day. It’s yours, the one you’ve owned for many years.

Wonwoo stares at it, before lifting his gaze to you.

“Did you know,” you begin softly. “I used to like Persuasion the most. I loved how it was written, how both characters were more mature than the ones in her other books. Pride and Prejudice had my favorite characters. But Emma…”

You thumb at its spine, and then at the crease on the cover, a thin white line disrupting what would have been solid black. Its careworn edges are familiar under your fingertips, and you know if you fan the pages in front of your nose it will smell like the characteristic scent of old books.

“Emma is the one I reread the most. At least, certain parts of it.” There’s a page marked—the scene where Mr Knightley finally lays his heart bare to Emma. From behind your back, you bring out his gift, flicking through the pages until you find the same page in this copy, Wonwoo’s only highlight in a book annotated with black pen.

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.

In your copy, there’s the same, with a note in your handwriting—in the script you first learned in high school and tried to revisit some years ago before giving up: me!!! but also me when!!!!!

Wonwoo looks at both of these, mouth parted. You know how sharp he is, how the pieces have already come together in his mind.

“Really?” He asks, voice soft, as though he can hardly believe it. The only thing left is for him to believe it. You know, because you are the same. It was only the heartbreak in his eyes, the anticipated rejection at the start, that made it sure for you.

Tentatively, your hands wander, moving from clasping the book to cupping his hands, cool under your own. You glance down at the book.

“‘If I have not spoken, it is because I am afraid I will awaken myself from this dream.’” Finally, you allow the giddy smile to spread across your face. Your heart flutters against your ribs, so utterly alive. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we?”

His lips twitch upward. After a moment, he begins to chuckle, and the weight on his shoulders seems to dissolve before your eyes. You begin to laugh too, simply out of the sheer relief of finally realizing that the past few days are now behind both of you.

“In case it isn’t obvious, Jeon Wonwoo, I’ve been in love with you too.” You whisper. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. Where before, he was afraid to look at you, now, it seems it’s all he can do. The fondness in his gaze is enough to bring anyone to their knees.

“Thank God,” he whispers back. You just stay there, basking in the moment, letting the joy finally seep itself into bones that have been weighed by resignation for so long. After a while, you begin to pull away, only you catch how Wonwoo’s gaze drops down as you do. You pause, gazing at him questioningly.

There’s a minute tremble in his hands as he reaches for your face, brushing your cheek with his fingers. His thumb traces a line on your jaw. He leans in, but stops, watching your reaction first before closing the distance all the way.

Though his approach was hesitant, the kiss itself is anything but. His hands find your cheek, then your neck, then your waist, pulling you further forward. You thread your fingers through his hair, both to bring him closer and to anchor yourself. There’s the faint taste of spicy broth, but you don’t care, knowing you’re the same anyway.

“That was hell of a gamble for Valentine’s,” you murmur once he pulls away, shaking your head. “Why now? How long have you known?”

Wonwoo just smiles. “It’s been a few months since either of us had a partner. And after the last one, when I was made to choose…they called me out on how unfair I was being, trying to be with them even as they knew I was in love with someone else.”

Your breath catches in your throat even as he continues.

“I tried to deny it, at the time, but they knew even before I did.” he finishes. He tilts his head and leans forward, closing the distance again. It’s more insistent now, the hands on your waist fully pulling you onto his lap. Wonwoo’s teeth nip at your lower lip, and you gasp. It shifts from chaste into something more demanding; his hands wander, fingers trailing paths of fire as they run across your back and grip your waist, as though he were finally releasing everything that had been pent up in him until this moment.

He swallows you into himself, and you allow yourself to be pulled into his passion. His mouth moves, latching down onto your neck and sucking. A quiet, shuddering moan leaves your lips. Wonwoo freezes. He pulls away, stricken, looking at you.

“Sorry,” he rasps. “I took it too far.” His hair is mussed, lips swollen and puffy. Something in your stomach stirs as you look at him like this—a Wonwoo you’d never seen before. A Wonwoo who is like this because of you. “I—”

You kiss him again, just because you can. Just a small thing, a tender reassurance. Pulling away, you smile. Absently, you play with the short strands of hair at his nape. “You’re okay. I don’t think I’m up for anything, er, more, tonight, but can we please keep kissing.”

After a beat, he chuckles, shoulders relaxing as his thumbs trace circles on your waist. Wonwoo leans in, lets your lips meet again in a slow dance, almost lazy. Like you finally have all the time in the world.

“Okay. But maybe after dinner and brushing our teeth. I’m still hungry.”

“Deal.”

Behind your ribs, the bird flies, finally free.

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