#drabble previews

[esvcort]

cw: 18+ content, penetration, caleb fucks you while he's on the phone!, not beta read i'm too horny for that, that's literally it idek

caleb would answer an important phone call concerning matters of the farspace fleet while he's legit balls deep inside of you.

bro has your legs resting on his shoulders while pistoning his thick cock over and over, fucking your cervix to oblivion and you just hear him talking in that colonel voice about a report on their last mission.

you are literally fighting for your life trying to stay quiet because you're getting dicked down so good that it has your whole body shaking, and this asshole has the audacity to fucking chuckle at your state while he keeps thrusting his stupid cock inside you.

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[kawareo]

35.) ....to gain something, Durge and Haarleep?

Anon I love you

BG3 timeline Durge/Haarlep, implied nsfw, not nice implications, background Durgetash

606 words

“Does this form not appease you, little mouse?”

The devil grins, and Strike can’t breathe. He doesn’t know if it’s from the heavy weight that’s pinning him down, or the too-rich scents of sulfur and vanilla that pollute the air, or perhaps the fact that the sultrily dressed creature straddling him is wearing Raphael’s face. His hands move, uncharacteristically shy where they rest on the devil’s thighs.

“N- no, it’s. It’s fine, really.” He attempts to grin back, but for some reason, he can’t grasp at the usual string of humor that tends to lace every serious conversation he (assumes) has ever had. “Raphael’s not half bad looking, you’re fine, buddy.”

Astarion has volunteered to do this, but Strike shot that idea down before it even left the vampire’s lips. Only one of them was a whore per his own volition, after all... Even if right now, his chest felt far too tight for what he hoped he could pretend is just sex like any other.

“Nonsense,” Raphael’s voice chides him from the incubus’ lips, as they grind down on him – when did their clothes disappear?? Not that there was much of them to begin with, but-

A warm hand against his cheek reminds him of what he is supposed to be focusing on, and Strike looks back up at Haarlep’s face as it smiles down on him.

“I am here to provide your deepest, truest desires, how much of a fraud would I be if this experience is anything but positively sublime for you?~”

Strike has half a mind to laugh, his truest desires have been demanding of him to tear the creature’s wings off of its back since the moment they’ve met, but before he can say anything, Haarlep moves in and presses their lips together. A downright embarrassing moan gets kissed away before it could travel too far, and Strike finds himself grateful for his friends being allowed to leave the room. Then again, he was alone with an incubus now...

“Ah, I see it, I see~” Haarlep’s laugh is soft as they pull away, so endlessly amused; and just as Strike opens his mouth to ask what was so funny, the devil shifts form in front of him, grows smaller. Smaller. “How lucky for both of us, that I happen to have just what you desire, little mouse~”

“...” Strike has no idea who he’s looking at.

The man –boy? He looks young, could not be more than twenty, at most– is far from the elegance that was Raphael’s form, even if Strike suspects that Haarlep took some liberties to make him look nicer as well, but his dark hair is greasy and hangs low over his shoulders, slim body that now sits shorter than Strike’s own. He has dark eyes and full lips that could be pretty on someone else, but they don’t work on his face – a face that Strike can’t put a name to, but something about it’s nasty grin makes his heart throb with sudden desire.

“What- wait, who is-“

He doesn’t get to ask any more questions, it seems. With still demonic strength the boy (and Strike has to remind himself that it is still Haarlep) pins him down, and slides higher over his hips.

“Enough talking, dearest,” the creature laughs, short and ugly; and just as Strike attempts to speak up again, it silences him with a kiss, this time deeper, more passionate. Strike doesn’t know the face. Yet he still wraps his arms around the body it’s attached to, and as his fingers trace the whipping scars on his back, he feels like he’s home.

[thelonelyshore-if]

Chapter 3 Sneak Peek

LINK

Okay, so I've kind of been dwelling on how I didn't really do anything for TLS's one year anniversary or the holidays. And I've also been just...so impatient to share chapter 3 with you all, even though it is definitely not completed.

So I decided to have a little fun with it and give you all a sneak peek of the next chapter c:

This preview is just under 10k words total and it's the beginning of next chapter. It can be relatively short or a bit longer, depending on your choices and if your MC is alone or has a buddy (or two) along for the ride.

Overall it's more or less unedited, so expect the occasional spelling error/coding error/typo. It'll get a once-over before the chapter is actually published.

But, for now, I wanted to give everyone a taste of what's to come! I hope you all enjoy <3

[yandere-wishes]

For movie night :)

Harvey Dent/TwoFace

I can't think of any specific films that come to mind but I do like that yandere trope where they hurt/injure you so you have to depend on them

OMG, I love this idea!!! It's so perfect for them!!

˙⋆✮Trailer✮⋆˙

Obviously, it's Big Bad Harv's idea, he brings the whole thing up. Meanwhile, poor Harvey's still trying to get over the guilt of having just kidnapped you. He couldn't fathom hurting you even more!

But the coin is tossed and fate makes its decision. Scars up. On the way to the bedroom where you're currently being kept, the two bicker over what exactly they should break. Harvey's thinking arms, you'll be so helpless and practically have to rely on him for everything (maybe he's a bit too keen on the idea of spoon feeding you and having you between his arms without a struggle) so helpless, so sweet. Harv's not opposed to the idea per se but he definitely wants your legs broken too so any ideas of escape rolling around that pretty head of yours are crushed.

Harvey sighs, scarred hand gripping the door knob. Guess they need another flip.

Okay, Anon your seat has been reserved. One ticket for "Love Hurts" coming right up!!

[powerful-niya]

— (hαppч єndíngѕ.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙷𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎'𝚜 𝙳𝚊𝚢 (𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻)

Link to One-shot Below ↴

Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina 

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡For Hinata, self-care had always felt like an unattainable luxury. Her demanding career as an analyst consumed nearly every waking hour, leaving her with precious little time to relax. 

It was only until one night, during one of her late-night doom scrolls, she stumbled on a massage therapist's website. Desperate for relief, she booked a session, only to discover, in her fatigue, that she accidentally signed up for something far more sensual than she expected.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Accidental Stimulation • Accidental/Purposeful Touching •  Adult-Life • Aftercare • Aphrodisiac • Body Worship • Breath Play • Butt Groping • Client x Masseur • Consensual • Dirty Talk • Edgeplay • Erotic • Erotic Massage • Erotic Tickling • Explicit • Fantasies & Fantasizing • Fingering • Groping • Hands Kink • Latex Gloves • Lingerie • Lubrication • Massage Therapy • Massage Parlor • Masseur • Modern AU • Multiple Orgasms • NSFW • Oil • Orgasm Denial • Overstimulation • Praise Kink • Pussy Suction Pump (Toys) • Pussy Worship • Self Care • Self Love • Sex Pollen • Sex Toys • Sexual Coercion • Scent Kink • Size Difference Kink • Spa • Stripping • Uniform • Valentine Day • Valentine's Special • Voice Kink • 2025

✨The Masseur and the Analyst✨

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚23.9K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚11.6K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Hinata let out a long, exhausted sigh as she flopped onto her couch, the cushions embracing her like they did every evening.  

Same time.  

Same routine.  

With a wince, she reached down and kicked off her heels, groaning quietly to herself. 

"How is it that shoes this cute can hurt this much?" She muttered, rubbing her sore feet through her stockings, already thinking it might be time to rethink her shoe choices. 

The soothing effects of her quick massage kicked in almost instantly, sending a wave of relief through her tired muscles. She wiggled her toes, stretching them out, another long, drawn-out sigh escaping her lips from the relief.

This was the moment she'd been waiting for all day—the bliss of being back home, alone, on her favorite couch. 

Hinata reached for the glass of wine she'd poured earlier, her arm extending over the coffee table in her living room. As she picked it up, the glass let out a soft clink that echoed through her otherwise quiet apartment. 

She brought the glass to her lips and took a slow sip, savoring the way the sweet, tangy flavor danced across her tongue. A soft, contented moan escaped her as the taste settled, a warmth blooming in her chest, taking away just a bit of the tension she'd been carrying all day.

Next, she reached for her laptop, placing it on her lap before flipping it open.

The soft glow of the screen illuminated her face, revealing a familiar sight—her wallpaper, a swarm of vibrant monarch butterflies drifting gracefully across a bright blue sky, with the password prompt hovering in the center. 

For a moment longer than she intended, her gaze was trained on that single word, for far too long, as if it had trapped her in a trance. Once again, she was zoning out—a new habit she'd unknowingly picked up.

And honestly? At this point, it didn't even surprise her anymore.

Her brain was still tangled up in the stress of the day, the never-ending to-do lists swirling in her head. Even something as mindless as logging in to her laptop felt like a chore after the chaos she'd just endured.  

The endless flood of emails.  

The mountain of spreadsheets.  

The constant need to come up with fresh ideas for campaigns.

The deadlines of projects and presentations that never stopped creeping closer.  

And of course, the back-to-back meetings—most of which seemed to exist purely so her boss could hear himself talk.  

Hinata let out a frustrated groan just thinking about it all. 

"Another day down," She muttered under her breath, "You survived, girl. You did it."

She had to keep reminding herself of that—because if she didn't, she might actually lose her mind.  

Sure, being a marketing analyst had its perks—a solid paycheck, decent benefits, and a title that sounded impressive in conversations. But lately, the downsides were creeping in, threatening to overshadow everything else. The grueling hours, the relentless workload, the constant pressure to stay ahead—it all piled up until it felt like there was no escape. 

More often than not, she found herself staying late at the office, trying to catch up, or lugging her work home with her, her laptop becoming a permanent fixture on her coffee table. Even after officially "clocking out," the demands of her job seemed to follow her everywhere. There was always something that needed tweaking, always something that demanded her attention. 

Therefore, she barely had a second to catch her breath, let alone carve out time for a real break. It was exhausting, and tonight, it was hitting her harder than ever.  

At twenty-seven, Hinata had worked tirelessly to climb the career ladder. She had been raised to believe that success meant dedication, that her career should come first, and that giving anything less than her best simply wasn't an option. And she had—she'd poured her all into her work, proving her worth in every way she could.  

But lately… she couldn't ignore how much it was starting to take a toll on everything—her mind, her body, her entire life outside of work. And if she was being honest, she wasn't even sure she had much of a life outside of it anymore.

Her social life? Yeah, that was pretty much dead in the water.

Most of her friends had either moved away, gotten caught up in their own careers, or settled down with partners. Group texts had become fewer, invites to dinners or game nights were rare, and even the occasional check-in messages had slowed to a trickle. 

It wasn't anyone's fault—it was just life—but that didn't make it any easier. 

Far too often, Hinata found herself trapped in the same endless cycle: slogging through long, draining hours at work, then slipping into her quiet apartment, popping a frozen dinner into the microwave, and finally collapsing onto the couch all alone. And before she knew it, the next day would roll around, and the routine would start all over again. 

Work, eat, sleep, repeat.

A steady routine she had fallen into without even realizing it.

And her love life? Ugh. That was a whole other disaster she didn't even want to think about.  

At this point, it felt like a lost cause. Not because she didn't want something real, or meaningful—but because, honestly? 

She had no idea where to even begin.  

It wasn't for lack of trying. She'd been on a few dates, met men through her coworkers, and even attempted the whole dating app thing. 

But nothing ever clicked.

The conversations always felt awkward and forced—no spark, no chemistry, no connection. By the end of the night, she'd catch herself glancing at the clock over and over, mentally counting down the minutes until she could finally head home.

And, of course, the main reason so many dates fell flat usually boiled down to one simple fact: she was just exhausted.

Between the demands of her job and everything else on her plate, the idea of pouring any energy into a relationship felt downright overwhelming.

Hinata craved something more—she really did. But when it came time to figure out how to achieve that, she found herself completely stuck.

This…was her life now. 

Work, then returning home, only to trap herself in a quiet room for hours with no one to talk to, to share a day's thoughts with, or simply sit beside and unwind. She constantly reassured herself that it was only temporary, that eventually, things would get better. But after a few years of this daily routine, it became harder and harder to believe in that promise. 

No conversation, no company... 

….well, not entirely no company.

A soft rustling near the entrance of the living room caught her attention, and just as expected, her chubby Scottish Fold sauntered her way in, looking as if she owned the place. 

Mochi—her cat.

Within seconds, the little white bundle of fluff hopped up beside her, curling into a warm ball against her side just like she always did when she arrived home. It was her way of saying 'welcome back', though she suspected she was also angling for a treat.

Hinata reached out to scratch her head, her fingers brushing through her soft, white fur.

She let out a weary sigh.

"Mochi, why is life like this? All work, no fun," She murmured softly, her fingers trailing behind her ears before gliding down to the delicate curve of her neck, brushing against the smooth leather of her pretty pink collar.

The fluffy tabby let out a slow, unimpressed meow, flicking her tail as if she completely agreed.

She chuckled softly, nodding her head, "Yeah," She murmured, more to herself than to her, "maybe I really do need a break."

With another sigh, she logged into her computer, settling in for what she knew would be yet another hour of mindless scrolling. It was a habit at this point—cycling through the same social media websites, half-reading articles she didn't care about, and watching videos she'd forget about in five minutes. 

She wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for—maybe some distraction, maybe just something to keep her from thinking too much. 

Whatever it was, it didn't matter. 

Time blurred as her fingers lazily flicked away at the touchpad, her thoughts drifting.  

Then, something caught her eye.  

As she casually browsed through an article, a pop-up ad suddenly appeared in the corner of her screen, its bold text practically shouting for her attention:

"Relax & Rejuvenate: Indulge In What Makes You Feel Good."

"Pamper Yourself With A Massage Today!"

Hinata's scrolling came to an abrupt halt. 

The invitation in those words were so direct, so tempting, that she couldn't help but pause, curiosity already bubbling up inside her.

And then she saw…him.

Below the text was the smiling face of a blonde masseur, his bright grin and sparkling blue eyes seeming to invite her to click. 

And, well, how could she not?

Before she could second-guess herself, her cursor hovered over the ad, and with a small click, she was in. The website loaded in instantly, and at the very top, in bold, playful lettering, the header proudly declared:

"Welcome to Happy Endings! We hope you enjoy us rubbing you to completion!"

Hinata blinked, a faint flush creeping up her neck. 

Wait. What?

'Did it really just say that?' She thought, her lavender eyes darting back over the words again. 

She hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or close the tab, but something about the rather… interesting heading—and that smiling blonde from before—made her keep scrolling.

Looking further, the website's design was actually very calming—pastel shades, gentle layouts, and photos of plush towels draped over immaculate tables in dim, candlelit rooms that screamed "relaxation."

As Hinata scrolled, she noticed glowing reviews everywhere she looked. People couldn't stop raving about how professional the staff was, how laid-back the place felt, and how every last ache and knot in their bodies were thoroughly worked out by the end of their sessions.

Her own neck gave a little twinge then, almost on cue. She let out a small sigh, rubbing the tender spot without even thinking about it.

"Maybe this is what I need..." She mumbled to herself, one hand idly stroking her dozing cat, while the other scroll further down the site. Her gaze wandered over the staff bios, each one blending into the next until suddenly, one name caught her eye.

Naruto Uzumaki. Owner.

Hinata froze, heart skipping a beat.

Wait a minute. That man. 

It was the same one from before. 

Sure enough, the smiling blonde in the photo was the exact same man she'd seen in the ad earlier—the blonde, blue-eyed heartthrob. 

Everything about him looked impeccably put-together. 

His blonde hair was styled just right, and he wore a crisp white collared shirt paired with neatly pressed matching pants, arms folded confidently over his chest. The fabric couldn't quite hide the subtle swell of muscle underneath, like it was almost ready to burst free.

Then there was that laid-back grin, lighting up his oddly whiskered face, showing off a row of perfect, pearly whites. Hinata found herself momentarily forgetting to breathe, her pulse quickening ever so slightly as she took in the sight of him.

"Ooh, what do we have here…" She muttered, nibbling on her lip as she shifted on the couch, trying to get comfy. Her gaze traveled over the screen, maybe lingering a little too long on the handsome blonde's picture before drifting down to read the description beneath it.

Naruto Uzumaki – Owner & Lead Masseur 

With years of hands-on experience, Naruto prides himself on delivering personalized treatments that target tension right at its source. Known for his warm smile and knack for making clients feel instantly at ease, he's earned a reputation for melting away even the most stubborn knots. Whether you're looking for deep relaxation or a rejuvenating stress release

Naruto's technique promises to leave you feeling renewed—inside and out. 

Hinata blinked. Inside and out?

Oh wow. He wasn't messing around.  

The words hung there, heavy in her mind, making her pulse speed up a little and her flush deepen. 

She read it again. 

Deep relaxation. Stress release. Inside and out.

Then, she read the words again, this time more slowly. 

Deep... Release... Inside and out.

Her brain did that little jumpy thing where it started overthinking the phrasing, but she shoved that aside. 

It was probably nothing, right? Just a weird, slightly suggestive choice of words. 

Hinata's mind drifted as she absently scrolled through the list of massage options available at Happy Endings. Most were the standard selections—deep tissue, Swedish, Shiatsu. Then there were others—hot stone, aromatherapy, lymphatic drainage, reflexology.

Then there were other traditional choices—hot stone, aromatherapy, lymphatic drainage, and reflexology. But as she scrolled further, something changed.

The options took a more… intimate turn.

Nuru.

Tantric.

Her fingers paused.

But then—there was one more.

One that stood out even more.

"Happy Ending Massage."

Hinata tilted her head, squinting at the screen.

Wait a second—wasn't that the name of the massage parlor? Happy Ending? Or was it Happy Endings with an s?

Hinata blinked, her mind momentarily stalling as she tried to recall. She could have sworn it was one or the other, but in that moment, the thought barely stuck. Because right now, she was too caught up—too distracted—by the massage option staring her in the face.

Her head tilted slightly as she skimmed the title again. 

Happy Ending Massage.

Was this some kind of premium, all-inclusive service? A special, all-in-one package that combined multiple techniques? 

Or… was it something else?

Her fingers tapped lightly against the laminated page, her curiosity deepening. It almost sounded like a massage buffet, offering a little bit of everything. But if that were the case, why was there such an emphasis on the word erotic?

Hinata shrugged it off. 

She wasn't in the mood to question it further. She was simply too tired. All she needed right now was some serious relief—no more thinking, no more working, just... happy endings.

A massage was a massage, right? 

And this one sounded too promising to pass up.

So, with a resigned sigh, Hinata clicked the "Book Now" button without a second thought.  

Almost instantly, a new page loaded, filled to the brim with a mountain of terms and conditions, liability waivers, and an endless stack of permission forms—medical questionnaires, health disclosure agreements, and all that fun, legally binding jazz.

Bleary-eyed and on autopilot, Hinata mindlessly began scrolling through the fine print. The words blended together, a mess of legal jargon and checkboxes, her brain struggling to process anything beyond Sign Here and Agree to Terms & Conditions.

At some point—she wasn't even sure when—her head drooped forward, her fingers idly hovering over her keyboard. She must have dozed off mid-form, because the next thing she knew, her chin jerked up, her lavender eyes blinking rapidly as she realized she had half-filled out a few fields in her sleep.

"Ugh, get it together, Hinata…" She mumbled, rubbing at her eyes before forcing herself to finish the last few entries.

Once she reached the booking calendar, she expected to have plenty of options to choose from—but instead, her heart sank.

Nearly every single appointment was booked solid.

The entire week. The next week. Even some of the week after that.

Hinata's lips parted in disbelief, her finger scrolling frantically, hoping for at least one opening that wasn't weeks away.

And then—

There it was.

A single available slot.

Next Saturday.

Hinata sighed in relief, clicking on the time slot before finalizing the appointment. 

"Yes, next Saturday should work," She murmured to herself, already feeling a sense of anticipation creep in. 

With the booking confirmed, she finally shut her laptop, officially calling it a night.

"Turn left in 300 meters," the GPS announced, its crisp, robotic voice cutting effortlessly through the soft hum of the car's engine.

Hinata's fingers tapped rhythmically against the steering wheel, keeping time with the upbeat melody playing through the radio. 

Moonlight Magic by Kana Hanazawa.

It was one of her favorites, a feel-good tune that perfectly matched the excitement buzzing in her chest.

Needless to say, she was in a fantastic mood. 

Because today wasn't just any Saturday.

Today was the Saturday.

After two grueling, endless weeks of back-to-back work, mind-numbing reports, and more emails than any human should ever have to deal with, the weekend had finally arrived—and Hinata was practically buzzing.

Sure, she always looked forward to the weekend. Who didn't? It was the one time she could actually unwind and escape from her responsibilities, at least for 48 hours. But this weekend?

This weekend was different.

This weekend was special.

Because in just a few short minutes, she would be arriving at 'Happy Endings' massage parlor for an appointment she had barely been able to stop thinking about since she booked it. It was the one thing that kept her going through the relentless chaos of work for the past two weeks.

But now, it was finally here! 

Grinning from ear to ear, Hinata shimmy-shimmied with excitement in her seat, her hands gripping the wheel of her Toyota Prius as it cruised through the bustling Tokyo streets. The GPS kept its steady stream of directions, guiding her through the lively maze of urban lights and busy crosswalks, all leading to the address provided by the 'Happy Endings' website.

Although some of the details were a bit fuzzy, Hinata distinctly remembered booking her appointment for 6:30 p.m.—a time that was a little later than she'd usually prefer. But since it was the only slot available, she just refused to pass up the chance. 

Her excitement was only further confirmed when a sweet notification from 'Happy Endings' flashed on her phone, reaffirming her 6:30 p.m. appointment.

⸻

 Hello there! 

Your 'Happy Ending' massage appointment is all set for Saturday, February 4th at 6:30 p.m. Can't wait to see you then! 

Chosen Masseur: Naruto Uzumaki.

⸻

Hinata's gaze drifted to the message on her phone, securely mounted on the dashboard. Her lavender eyes flicked from the road to the final line of text, and a smile lit up her face.

Of course, she had specifically booked Naruto himself as her masseur. Well…duh.

Not only was she craving some serious relief, but a small, secret part of her was excited to finally meet Naruto in person. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd look as hot up close as he did in his photos, because, you know, people sometimes turn out looking differently in real life. 

Fingers crossed that her heavenly massage would come with a side of handsome company too. 

She shimmied again, a soft, bubbly giggle escaping her lips.

"Up ahead, turn left," the GPS reminded her again, cutting her thoughts short. 

Following the GPS's directions and the familiar blue light, which signified 'go' in Japan, Hinata smoothly veered the steering wheel to the left. Her lavender eyes flitted between the road ahead and the beautiful city unfolding outside her window.

The daylight had faded, and now the evening had taken over Tokyo, yet the city was just as alive as ever. Everywhere she looked, the streets were filled with people—so many people, each wrapped up in their own little worlds. 

In the gentle glow of the city lights, she could see couples strolling hand-in-hand, friends laughing over drinks at sidewalk cafés, and office workers in crisp suits hurrying between evening meetings, glancing at their watches as they went about their business.

She let out a soft sigh. 

On a typical weekday, that would have been her—darting around in those same damn heels, rushing from one errand to the next, only to end up glued to her desk. There, she'd be slogging through endless emails, drowning in spreadsheets, and later in the evening sitting through meetings with people whose personalities were as bland as the coffee they sipped. And then there was the work itself—

Hinata shook her head, her brows knitting together. 

'What am I doing? Why am I even thinking about that?' She thought to herself, tightening her hands around the steering wheel. 

No, today's supposed to be different. 

Today was about letting go, not obsessing over the hectic chaos of the weeks behind her. 

She didn't even want to dwell on that. 

It was finally the end of the week—and that was what she should focus on. Today was all about giving herself the break she so desperately needed. 

That's all that mattered now. 

With that thought in mind, her radiant smile returned—just in time, too.

"Your destination is to your left," the GPS announced. Hinata whipped her head to the left so quickly that it nearly snapped, her eyes darting back and forth until she spotted it.

"Happy Endings."

Her heart did a little flip inside her chest. 

There it was—the massage parlor, standing alone and framed beautifully by the soft pink petals of blooming sakura trees. Above the entrance, an illuminated sign elegantly spelled out "Happy Endings" on a finely crafted wooden board, its glow cutting softly through the dimming light of the setting sun.

The building itself was a warm brown structure, its windows tucked behind gentle, pale wooden sliding shutters. Below the sign were expansive glass panels, and Hinata noticed they were slightly fogged, likely from the warmth inside.

"Hm, quaint," She murmured, a delighted smile curling at her plump lips. The parlor sat on a small, well-maintained lot, and while a few cars were already parked, it wasn't crowded—just enough to tell her this little gem was a favorite among the locals. 

It was yet another reassuring sign that "Happy Endings" was exactly where she needed to be.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Hinata guided her car into the parking lot and carefully selected a spot to ease into. Once she parked, she switched off the engine and slumped back in her seat, letting the quiet wash over her for a moment. 

Just for a moment. 

Hinata took another deep breath.

This was it—her moment to finally treat herself to her very first massage.

In a burst of excitement, she sprung up in her seat and broke into a little shimmy dance right there in the car. 

"Yas, I'm really doing this!" Hinata squealed to herself, the excitement bubbling over. She knew it might seem a bit childish—if anyone happened to see her shimmying around in her car, they'd probably think she'd lost her mind.

But at that moment, she couldn't care less. 

The mere thought of finally treating herself, actually prioritizing self-care, had her heart racing. She felt empowered, beyond belief. 

And she couldn't help but squeal again with joy.

'Fingers crossed that everything turns out perfectly.' She mused with glee. With that hopeful thought in mind, she grabbed her purse and keys, swung open the car door, and finally stepped out into the cool, evening breeze. 

Hinata swung open the heavy wooden door of Happy Endings, and a gentle bell chimed above, announcing her arrival. 

Steeping inside, her lavender eyes roamed around, first catching the flicker of artfully placed candles, then drifting upward to see delicate lanterns hanging overhead, casting playful shadows on the immaculate white walls and plush brown furniture. 

The reception area. 

Somewhere in the background, she could hear the soothing strains of gentle piano music playing, flowing seamlessly with the delicate trickle of water from a nearby fountain.

It was perfect.

Exactly what she had imagined stepping into a massage parlor.

Right then, she was already giving Happy Endings major props; she felt truly welcomed. And as she looked around, everything was impeccably clean—another good sign. 

Hinata took a sniff at the air, and the scent that greeted her was exactly what she had hoped for. The sweet aroma of incense floated around her, clean and pure, like melted vanilla, instantly soothing her senses.

Making her way to the front desk, she noticed an ornate wooden counter where a statuesque woman with neatly pinned grey hair sat. The receptionist's piercing emerald eyes met hers as she glanced up from a ledger, a welcoming smile spreading across her face.

"Welcome to Happy Endings," She greeted warmly, "I'm Mabui. How may I assist you today?"

Hinata's fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her purse, nerves fluttering in her chest.

"Hi, Mabui-san," She said softly, "I have an appointment scheduled for 6:30 p.m."

Mabui turned gracefully in her chair and began scrolling through her computer. After a brief pause, she looked up with a friendly smile.

"Hinata Hyūga, correct?"

"Hai, that's me," Hinata replied softly.

"Wonderful! Is this your first time visiting us by any chance?" Mabui asked, her eyes crinkling with genuine interest.

Hinata nodding slightly, nervously twirling a strand of her long, midnight blue hair around her finger, "Hai… it's my first time," She admitted softly, her voice barely above a murmur.

The moment those words left her lips, Mabui's expression brightened instantly. Her features softened with warmth, and a wide, beaming smile stretched across her caramel-toned face. 

"Oh, how exciting!" Mabui practically gushed, her excitement spilling over like warm honey, "We're absolutely thrilled to have you here, Hinata-san. There's nothing we love more than welcoming new visitors!" 

Hinata couldn't help but let out a soft giggle, the corners of her lips tugging upward her nerves loosening just a little.

Mabui's enthusiasm was downright infectious, filling the space between them with a warmth that eased some of the tension knotting in Hinata's chest. There was something about the grey-haired receptionist that put her at ease—like she was talking to an old friend rather than checking in for an appointment.

It was…comforting.

Mabui clasped her hands together, tilting her head slightly, "So, how are you feeling today, darling?" She asked, her voice gentle but curious.

Hinata let out a quiet breath, finally releasing the strand of hair she had been absentmindedly twisting between her fingers, gently tucking it behind her ear.

"Well.." She murmured, glancing down for a brief second before offering a small, sheepish smile, "I'm a little nervous… but mostly excited. I've never done anything like this before."

Mabui let out a soft, knowing chuckle, waving a hand in reassurance, "Oh, that's completely normal, Hinata-san. Your first time can feel a little overwhelming, but trust me—you're in excellent hands. We always strive to make sure our guests feel right at home."

Rolling slightly in her chair, Mabui continued, "Now, let's get you checked in, shall we?" She pointed to a sign-in sheet on the counter and handed Hinata a pen. 

"Just sign here," She said with a friendly smile, "Once you're finished, go ahead and make yourself comfortable in our lounge—just over there." She motioned to her right, where a cute sign labeled "Lounging Area" hung from the ceiling, swaying ever so slightly.

Hinata hummed softly, giving a small nod of acknowledgment.

"I'll let you know when Naruto-san is ready for your session," Mabui reassured her, her warm smile remaining constant, never faltering for even a moment.

Turning back to the counter, Hinata reached for the pen, her fingers tightening around it as she quickly signed her name on the sheet. The motion was quick—almost too quick—her excitement getting the best of her, making her strokes a little sloppier than usual.

She exhaled softly, willing her hand to steady, but it was useless. The anticipation was impossible to ignore, tingling in her fingertips, curling in her stomach, making her handwriting a touch messier than she would have liked.

Still, she pressed on, finishing the last loop of her signature with a final flourish before setting the pen down with a quiet clink against the counter. Once she finished, she glanced up just in time to see Mabui sliding a clipboard toward her, a few neatly stacked forms clipped securely at the top.

"These are our consent forms," Mabui explained smoothly, "You should have already signed them when you booked your appointment online, but we keep a physical copy here just as a precaution. Go ahead and read through them carefully, please."

Hinata blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but quickly reached out to take the clipboard.

"Oh, okay," She murmured, her fingers running along the edges of the papers as she skimmed the fine print. 

"Arigato, Mabui-san."

"Of course, take your time," Mabui said kindly, "If you have any questions, I'm right here. And if you need anything—a bottle of water, a little snack, or even a towel—everything is available in our lounge and ready for you to enjoy. Also..."

Mabui reached for a small, elegantly designed pamphlet resting on the counter, her manicured fingers gliding over its glossy cover before setting it down on the clipboard cradled in Hinata's arms.

"Here's a handy guide outlining the services we offer here," She said smoothly, her emerald eyes glinting with amusement. Then, with a playful wink, she added, "Also it can act as a little refresher—especially for the treatment you selected."

Hinata accepted it with a grateful smile, her fingers skimming the edges as she held it close.

"Thank you," She murmured, just about to turn away when—

"Oh, and Hinata-san?"

Mabui's voice stopped her mid-step.

"Hm?" Hinata blinked, glancing back over her shoulder.

Mabui was leaning over the counter now, her arms folded, an unreadable smirk curling at her lips—one that didn't quite sit well with Hinata. 

"And I must say," the grey haired receptionist purred, tilting her head slightly, "you made a fantastic choice picking Naruto-san as your masseur."

Hinata's breath hitched, her fingers twitching around the clipboard in her hands.

Mabui's smirk deepened, and with a slow, seductive shimmy in her chair, she added, "He'll treat you real nice."

Hinata's entire body ignited.

A squeak—an actual, audible squeak—escaped her lips much to her utter embarrassment. 

Oh, kami.

Heat rushed to her cheeks so fast she thought she might faint right there on the spot. Bowing her head in a desperate attempt to hide her flustered expression, she muttered a rushed, breathless, "A-Arigato," before making the quickest escape of her life.

Her feet carried her toward the lounge in record time, her heart hammering against her ribs.

It was nothing. 

Mabui was just teasing. Right?

Right…?

She bit her lip, shaking the thought off—or at least she tried to. But thankfully, before it could spiral any further, something else quickly stole her attention.

The lounge.

The moment she stepped inside, her eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise.

The space was just as cozy as the reception area—if not cozier—like walking into the inviting warmth of someone's personal living room.

Soft, plush brown couches lined the walls, each one adorned with an array of decorative pillows and neatly draped throw blankets that practically called to her. A few guests were already nestled into them, lounging with their eyes closed or flipping lazily through magazines.

Candles were scattered everywhere, their soft, flickering glow giving the room an extra warm vibe just like the reception area. In the far corner, a small TV was mounted on the wall, its screen displaying a Japanese cooking show. 

Hinata's gaze flicked toward it absentmindedly—until she recognized it.

Rokuhoudou: Colorful Days.

A small smile tugged at her lips. 

She had watched that show before—its soothing aesthetic and cozy storytelling had always been a comfort to her. Something about the way the men brewed coffee and prepared traditional sweets with such care in their cafe made her feel at peace. 

Food was her comfort, after all. That includes food shows too. 

But before she got too caught up in watching, her attention shifted again.

In the center of the lounge sat a neatly arranged table, stacked with an assortment of magazines and informational packets from the parlor—perfect for passing the time while waiting.

Her eyes then landed on a mini-fridge nestled against the wall, its glass door revealing rows of bottled water, iced coffee, herbal teas, and a variety of other refreshments. On top, a selection of snacks was carefully arranged in small, decorative bowls—crisp senbei rice crackers, zesty wasabi peas, and neatly lined packs of Pocky, their colorful packaging catching her eye.

Of course, Hinata couldn't resist the lure of food. 

She strolled over, helped herself to a bottle of water, a pack of Pocky, and a handful of senbei crackers, then joined the three other visitors lounging nearby. Settling into her seat, she spent her time happily nibbling on her snack while skimming through the consent forms and the massage parlor packet she was given. 

Time slipped away without her even noticing, and before Hinata knew it, two of the other visitors had been called for their sessions, leaving the lounge quieter than before. Still nestled in her seat, she absentmindedly nibbled on a cracker, her fingers flipping through the massage packet resting in her lap.

"Deep tissue," She murmured under her breath, her eyes scanning the description with mild curiosity.

She turned the page.

"Swedish," She whispered next, her voice barely above a breath as she skimmed the details. Page after page, she continued, taking her time—until her fingers froze mid-turn.

Her breath hitched.

There it was.

A section marked in elegant, curling script: Happy Endings.

Her massage selection.

Her lavender eyes skimmed the description, reading it over carefully. But it wasn't the title that caught her attention.

No.

It was that word again—bolded, standing out above the rest. Erotic.

Hinata stared, her throat suddenly dry.

Wait. 

What…?

"Hinata Hyūga?"

The sound of her name cut clean through the quiet lull of the lounge, disrupting the gentle murmur of the television and the soothing trickle of the water fountain.

"Eeeek!" She squeaked, jolting upright. Her head snapped up so violently she almost saw stars, whiplash be damned, her breath catching somewhere between her lungs and throat. Her wide, startled eyes darted across the room, frantically searching for the source of the voice. 

And the moment she spotted the culprit, her heart skipped a beat. 

Oh. My. Kami.

There, standing in the open doorway of the lounge, clipboard in hand, was him.

Naruto Uzumaki.

Her chosen masseur.

Her breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as an unexpected rush of warmth crawled up her spine.

There he was.

The same man whose face was plastered all over Happy Endings' website, boasting a flawless five-star rating and glowing reviews praising his "heavenly touch" and "unmatched expertise." The very same man she had shamelessly ogled—the one responsible for her booking this appointment in the first place.

And now, seeing him in person?

He was absolutely breathtaking.

More so than she ever could have imagined.

His blonde hair was styled just as neatly as in the photos, strands brushed back, revealing every sharp, chiseled angle of his face. He was dressed in crisp white scrubs, the color standing out against his tanned skin. The fabric was loose but did little to hide the definition of his toned body. 

And those eyes.

Even from across the room, they were striking—a piercing, ocean-blue, framed by dark lashes. 

He looked every bit the professional, but there was an undeniable ruggedness to him, something effortless about the way he carried himself. 

Something that made Hinata's pulse skip violently.

For a moment too long, she just sat there like an idiot, staring, too stunned to move. Her pulse thundered in her ears as she watched him scan the room, flipping through his clipboard, eyes flicking over the other guests with a casual confidence.

"Hinata Hyūga? Do we have a Hinata Hyūga here?"

That snapped her out of it.

"Oh—shoot, that's me!" She whispered under her breath, springing to her feet so quickly she almost knocked over the pamphlet in her lap. 

"Yes! That's me!" She called, her voice bubbling with excitement and just a hint of embarrassment.

Naruto's head turned sharply, his lips curling into a broad, easygoing grin the moment his eyes met hers. 

"Ah—there she is!" He let out a warm chuckle, playfully tapping his clipboard against his palm before pointing at her, "You were hiding from me, Hinata-san."

Hinata's face burned. 

"Oh no! I just—got a little caught up," She laughed nervously, hurriedly gathering her things. She quickly stuffed her snack, the bottle of water, and the massage packet into her purse, before reaching for the forms. 

Before she could grab them, Naruto lifted a hand in a casual beckon. 

"You can bring those with you," He said with a nod, "If you have any questions while you finish looking them over, feel free to ask."

His voice.

Kami, his voice.

Smooth like melted butter. 

Hinata swallowed, offering a small nod as she picked up the clipboard, clutching it against her chest, "Oh, um—actually, I already filled everything out online, so…" Her words trailed off as she glanced up at him, unsure if she needed to do anything else.

Naruto's lips curled into a grin, eyes gleaming with approval, "Perfect! That means we can get things rolling then," He said, then pointed at the clipboard of forms in her possession, "You can leave that there on the table, I'll have someone come by and confiscate it shortly. 

Hinata nodded, setting the clipboard back down on the table. 

Naruto stepped back slightly, gesturing for her to follow.

Hinata managed a small, shy smile in return before she did just that—slipping toward the open door he held for her. Once she stepped through and the door softly closed behind her, the blonde masseur turned to greet her properly, extending his hand. 

For a split second, Hinata hesitated—but then, she reached out, her fingers slipping into his. 

His grip was firm, warm, steady. 

Hinata's heart was pounding so hard she almost forgot to breathe.

Because—oh, kami—his hand was in hers.

Big. Warm. Strong.

Thick, blue veins traced along his tanned skin, his fingers easily dwarfing hers.

She couldn't look away.

Her breath hitched as he gave her hand a gentle rock, his thumb grazing over her knuckles so naturally, that her body responded before her mind could catch up.

A simple handshake.

But why did it feel like so much more?

His touch was already doing something to her, his fingers easing the tension from her knuckles, smoothing out stress she hadn't even realized she was carrying.

Like it was second nature to him.

Like he already knew exactly how to take care of her.

"It's so nice to meet you, Hinata-san," Naruto greeted, blsessing her ears with that voice of his again. So smooth and warm—everything she wasn't prepared for.

"As you probably know, I'm Naruto Uzumaki—the owner of Happy Endings and the head massage therapist here."

And then—finally—he let go.

Hinata's fingers twitched, tingling with the warmth he left behind, still buzzing from the lingering press of his palm against hers.

"Since it's your first time with us," Naruto continued, flipping open his clipboard, "do you have any questions or concerns so far?"

Hinata barely heard him.

She was still stuck on his hands.

The same hands that—soon—would be working their magic on her body.

Touching her.

Cupping her.

Massaging her.

Her lips parted, her throat tightening, her mind spiraling far too fast in a direction she hadn't anticipated.

And Naruto just stood there. 

Waiting.

Expecting an answer.

Oh, kami.

She needed to get it together.

"Mmm…" Hinata murmured, barely able to string words together, but then she caught the sound of his soft chuckle. 

Embarrassment fluttered through her, and she quickly snapped out of it, her cheeks burning bright red. 

"I—I mean, yes, I do have a few questions," She stammered, desperately trying to regain her composure—to erase that embarrassing little sound she had just made from existence.

Her fingers fidgeted against the strap of her purse, her brain scrambling for something—anything—to shift the focus.

"Also, thank you for giving me this opportunity, and—"

Hinata dipped into a polite bow, her hands nervously smoothing over the fabric of her skirt as she forced a shy but genuine smile.

"It's really great to finally meet you, Naruto-san."

A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, rich and warm.

"Aww, you're gonna make a grown man blush," He teased, shaking his head with an easy grin, "You're really sweet, Hinata-san, but," his smirk tilted, "there's no need for any formality."

His gaze flickered over her, his smile warming up. 

"I'm here for you, not the other way around."

Hinata bit her lip.

Oh, if only he knew…

In a way, she was here for him.

Sort of.

Maybe just a little.

…Okay, maybe a lot.

The mere thought sent a flutter through her stomach, and before she could rein it in, her shoulders stiffened as she straightened from her bow, standing tall once more.

Naruto caught it instantly.

His sharp blue eyes flickered with knowing amusement, his head tilting slightly as he studied her reaction like she was a puzzle he was itching to figure out.

"Aww, Hinata-san," He drawled, "Relax." 

His smirk softened just a fraction, just enough to make her heart trip over itself.

"This is your time. Your session," He reminded her, voice dipping lower, smoother. "You don't have to be so stiff with me, sweetheart."

Hinata nearly choked on air.

Sweetheart.

Oh, no.

She wasn't ready.

Not for that.

Not for him.

Her lips parted, but nothing came out.

Absolutely nothing.

Just the relentless pounding of her heart in her ears, drowning out every coherent thought she had left.

"O-Oh…" was all she managed, a breathless, pathetic little whimper. 

Naruto let out another amused chuckle. 

He took a casual step around her, then tilted his head toward the hallway, gesturing with a flick of his fingers.

"Come, Hinata-san," He murmured, that damn smirk still in place. 

"Follow me.

His shoes made a steady, confident thump as he guided her onward, each step echoing softly against the glazed wooden floor. Every sound—the soft creak of the boards, the gentle rustle of his uniform as he moved, even the faint tap of his clipboard against his palm—seemed heightened, magnified by the stillness around them.

Hinata followed, her lashes fluttering as she stole secret glances at him from the corner of her eye.

Ahead, the hallway was dimly lit, a long, narrow corridor lined with closed massage rooms on either side. Lanterns flickered above, their soft golden glow reflecting off the pristine walls. The air was filled with the scent of warm vanilla and lavender, a nice and calming scent—and yet, her heart refused to settle.

Every step forward sent a fresh pulse of anticipation through Hinata, her heart racing, tightening, twisting.

And then—Naruto stopped.

He gestured toward an open doorway, stepping aside with a relaxed nod, "This room's all yours," He said, motioning for her to enter, his clipboard resting casually against his forearm.

Hesitantly, Hinata stepped inside.

The moment she did, her breath caught in her throat.

The room was… breathtaking. Private. Intimate.

A warm, golden glow filled the dimly lit room, the lanterns above casting a gentle spotlight on the massage table in the center. It was draped in crisp, freshly pressed white sheets, with a stack of neatly folded towels resting at the foot, practically calling out to her. 

The entire space was designed for pure tranquility—soft, neutral tones of beige, cream, and warm browns. Graceful bamboo plants in round pots stood tall in each corner—an addition to the room Hinata found particularly beautiful.

A sleek countertop lined the far wall, showcasing an array of oils and lotions, their delicate glass bottles gleaming under the soft candlelight.

Just beside it, a small sink sat nestled between carefully arranged décor—a vase filled with fresh flowers, a glowing salt lamp, and a trio of scented candles. 

Then… there was the scent.

Hinata inhaled deeply, the rich notes of citrus and amber swirling in the air, but something else overtook it.

Him.

The moment Naruto stepped in behind her, his cologne rushed in and dominated the small space—a deep, intoxicating blend of sandalwood and spice. 

Rich. Warm. Undeniably masculine.

Her breath hitched.

Kami, he was already too much.

"Take a seat for me," Naruto instructed, waving his clipboard over towards the massage table. 

Hinata hesitated yet again, fingers fidgeting with the strap of her purse, before obeying. As she walked past him, she caught another subtle whiff of his cologne—stronger now, closer. It was the kind of scent that lingered, the kind that made it dangerously hard to focus.

Naruto followed her inside, his movements fluid, relaxed as he closed the door behind them with a soft click.

She took slow, tentative steps toward the massage table, her fingers brushing over the pristine white sheets before settling herself at the edge.

This was it.

In just a few moments, she would be right here, stretched out beneath his touch, his hands. 

The thought sent a wave of nervous excitement through her, her stomach tightening, her pulse thrumming in her ears. But she barely had time to dwell on it before she heard the rush of water.

Naruto had moved to the sink, rolling up the sleeves of his white uniform, revealing strong, tanned forearms, corded with lean muscle. He turned on the faucet, letting the heat build before pumping a generous amount of soap into his hands.

"Alright," He murmured, rubbing his palms together, creating a rich lather, "Before we get started, let's go over those questions of yours," He glanced over his shoulder at her, a teasing smirk playing at his lips.

"Hm?"

Hinata's mouth gaped slightly, her fingers gripping the edge of the table just a little tighter.

Kami.

How was she supposed to think clearly when he looked like that?

Hinata let out a deep breath, attempting to steady herself. 

Just ask. Just ask and get it over with.

"U-Um…" She started, her voice wobbling a little too high, "I was wondering—could you explain what makes the Happy Ending massage different from the others?"

The words came out too fast, tumbling over each other like they were trying to escape her mouth before she could change her mind.

And then, for some godforsaken reason, she kept talking.

"It's, uh… kind of embarrassing, but this is actually my first massage. Ever."

For a moment—just a fraction of a second—Naruto froze.

His hands hovered under the running water, shoulders stiffening as if he had just heard the most absurd thing in the world. Then, with a quick flick of his wrist, he shut the sink off, a little too aggressively, and whipped around so fast she half-expected him to give himself whiplash.

"Did you just say—?" His voice pitched up slightly, eyebrows shooting sky-high, "Your first massage?"

He shook his head in disbelief, "You're messing with me."

Hinata shrank back slightly, feeling ridiculously called out, "I—um—no?"

Naruto squinted at her as he reached for a towel, drying his damp hands, "Nah. No way. A grown woman like you, never had a massage before? That's illegal. That should be illegal."

Hinata let out a small, nervous laugh, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, well… unfortunately, no. I've just never had the time," She admitted, shifting slightly on the table, "I work as a marketing analyst—which is really just a fancy way of saying I sit at a desk all day, hunched over a computer."

Naruto winced playfully, shaking his head, "Oh no, your poor back. That's so tragic, Hinata-san."

"Oh yes, truly tragic," Hinata sighed dramatically, rubbing her lower back for emphasis, "I'd love to tell you otherwise, but honestly—my back gave up on me years ago."

Naruto's lips twitched, and then—he laughed. 

A deep, rich chuckle slipped from his lips, warming the space and her heart along with it. 

Hinata let out a soft, breathy laugh of her own, her shoulders relaxing just a bit—especially after realizing she had managed to make the ridiculously handsome blonde laugh. 

Like, oh my gosh, what?!

She hadn't expected to feel this comfortable so quickly, but something about Naruto's easygoing nature made it impossible not to.

"I just—I don't know," Hinata admitted, gesturing vaguely with her hands, "I figured it was about time I actually did something for myself for once. Then I stumbled across your website, read through the services, and thought, 'Maybe a massage is what I need.'"

Naruto hummed, nodding as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossing over his broad chest, "Hmm, so basically, you were drowning in work, at your wit's end, and in desperate need of some proper relief, yeah?"

Hinata's face heated instantly, "Well—!" She choked, flailing for words before groaning and covering her face with both hands, "Okay, yes! That basically sums it up."

Naruto let out a satisfied chuckle, pushing off the counter, "Well, in that case, let me be the first to say—you made an excellent decision coming here." 

He gestured broadly to the room, arms extended, "Welcome to the world of relaxation, hun."

His grin stretched wider, "And just for the record—" He paused, tilting his head slightly, those soft baby blue eyes locking onto hers. 

"I really appreciate you sharing that with me, Hinata-san."

Hinata beamed, cheeks flushing redder, "O-Of course."

For a brief moment, Naruto just stared her, his expression shifting—not just playful now, but genuinely… intrigued. There was something almost thoughtful in the way his eyes lingered on her, like he replaying the words she said over in his head. 

He hummed in amusement. 

"Now, about that question of yours…" He began, snapping himself out of his thoughts, "The Happy Ending massage option we have available here is… well, let's just say it's in a category of its own."

Hinata bit her lip, her heartbeat stuttering.

Oh. 

The way he said it, the way his voice dropped just a little, made something deep in her chest tighten. She wasn't sure if it was anticipation, nervousness, or just the lingering effect of him thanking her so casually earlier, like she had shared something special. Like he actually cared.

It made her want to kick her feet, and giggle into her hands like a silly, silly schoolgirl.

"It's more erotic, more intimate…" Naruto went on, watching for her reaction.

Hinata caught it—the tail end of what he said, anyway.

Her lips parted slightly, a breath hitching in her throat as her mind whirled, catching up to what he was saying.

"Now, don't get me wrong," He continued, his tone as easygoing as ever, "it still works just like a deep tissue massage."

He lifted a hand, gesturing casually as he spoke, "I'll be working through every muscle—your neck, shoulders, arms, back, legs…" His gaze briefly swept over her, as if mentally charting every spot he'd touch, every area he'd press and knead.

"Loosening up every knot, releasing all that built-up tension you've been carrying."

Hinata nodded slowly, her mind grasping for some sense of normalcy in his explanation.

That… that didn't sound bad.

She did need a deep tissue massage.

Her job had her sitting for hours on end, her muscles locked up so tightly she barely remembered what it felt like to be relaxed. 

So that seemed exactly what she needed. 

But then, she looked up and noticed the blonde masseur's smirk changed.

Not drastically.

Just slightly.

His gaze turned a shade darker, something undeniably suggestive flashing behind his blue eyes.

"But the key difference of the Happy Ending massage option," He continued, his voice dipping lower, "is at the very end of your session."

Hinata's brows furrowed, confusion flashing across her face.

"The end?"

Naruto chuckled softly.

"Hai. At the very end—especially for you—" His eyes locked onto hers, unwavering, "I'm going to wrap it all up with something…special." He paused, just for a second. 

"A sweet release. A proper orgasm."

Hinata froze.

Her brain completely short-circuited.

Did he—

Did he just—

Did she hear that correctly?

Her face went up in flames, her fingers clenching her purse strap as tight as she could, the only thing keeping her grounded, reminding her that this was real. That she was, in fact, awake.

"O-O-Orgasm?!" She squeaked, her voice pitching so high she barely recognized it.

Naruto's grin only widened.

"That's right, Hinata-san."

Casual.

Nonchalant.

As if he had just told her the sky was blue.

Hinata gawked at him, completely and utterly shocked beyond belief.

She wanted to deny she heard him correctly.

She wanted to ask if this was some kind of joke.

She wanted to faint on the damn spot.

This is what she signed up for?

This is what 'Happy Ending' meant?

All this time?!

How could she have been so reckless?!

Twice—that word, erotic, had flashed before her eyes. Twice, she had seen it, registered it… and yet, each time, she brushed it off, convincing herself it was just part of the all-inclusive massage experience she had conjured up in her head. 

She knew she had seen it.

And yet, instead of stopping to question it, instead of reading between the lines like any rational person would, she let her excitement get the best of her—rushing headfirst into booking the session without a second thought.

Too hasty. Too quick.

Now, sitting here, her pulse hammering, reality finally sinking its claws in, she could hardly believe it.

What had she gotten herself into?

All the while, as she spiraled deeper into the chaos of her own thoughts, Naruto remained where he was—calm, composed, waiting. His smirk lingered, his sharp blue eyes watching her every reaction with quiet amusement.

But then—

His smile began to fade.

Slowly, that teasing smirk softened, replaced by something more cautious, more observant. His head tilted slightly, his blonde brows drawing together as he took in her silence, her stiff posture, the way her fingers had gone white-knuckled around her purse strap.

His hands lowered, the playful edge in his demeanor slipping just a little.

"…You okay, Hinata-san?"

His voice was gentler now, his gaze carefully scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. 

"If this isn't something you're comfortable with, we can make adjustments." He offered, his voice steady, reassuring, "Just remember, this session is all about helping you relax, not adding to your stress."

Hinata blinked, her mouth opening and closing, her pulse still racing. And then—before she could even think, before she could stop herself—

"No, no—I want it."

The words just…tumbled out. 

What. The. Hell. 

Naruto's brows lifted slightly, his smirk making a slow return.

"…Oh?"

That single word carried so much weight, dragging heat all the way down Hinata's spine.

Oh?

OH?!

Hinata's heart slammed against her ribs, realization crashing down on her far too late.

What the hell had she just agreed to?

Her mouth opened, as if to take it back—to retract the words—but the way Naruto was looking at her, studying her so intently, made the thought die on her tongue.

Especially with him looking so fine.

Kami.

This would be any woman's dream, wouldn't it? To be pampered by a man this strong, this handsome? To have those skilled hands of his gliding over her body, rubbing her down, taking care of her?

He was built for this. Trained for this.

And… if she was being honest… she secretly wanted it.

More than she should.

More than she—

Wait—what?! What the hell was she thinking?!

Her face grew redder and redder, blinking, waiting for him to… say something. Anything.

Naruto hummed, low, considering. 

And with that—he broke the silence.

"Well, alright then."

His smirk returned. 

"But before we officially move forward, there are a few things we need to go over first."

He pushed himself off the counter, moving with that same easy confidence, grabbing his clipboard and flipping it open.

"First off, let's talk comfort levels."

Hinata inhaled sharply, gripping the fabric of her skirt, feeling the heat pulse through her entire body.

Comfort levels?

Oh kami.

"This section requires you to be a little more open with me, Hinata-san," Naruto continued smoothly, flicking through the forms, "That means skin-to-skin contact. Now, you don't have to be completely naked if that makes you uncomfortable. Most of my clients—" He paused, looking at her pointedly, "—especially first-timers—keep their underwear on. Totally up to you."

Hinata's brain short-circuited. Again.

Naked.

Naked?!

Oh. 

She had not thought this through.

Her fingers twitched, "I… I can keep my underwear on?"

Naruto nodded, his expression remaining completely professional despite the nature of the discussion—a skill in itself, "Of course. This is all about what makes you comfortable."

Hinata exhaled slowly, feeling at least somewhat relieved.

Then, Naruto's voice dipped lower.

"Though, if you want the full experience, skin-to-skin contact allows me to work deeper into the muscle tissue. It helps with circulation, tension relief, and overall relaxation. The less restriction, the better the results."

Hinata swallowed hard.

Circulation. Tension relief. Relaxation.

Okay. Okay, that all sounded… reasonable.

Logical.

Totally not like she was about to get stripped down and touched in ways she'd never been touched before.

Right?

But then…

That naughty little voice deep in the back of her mind whispered temptingly.

Would that be so bad?

To experience his hands gliding over every inch of her body? To have those strong fingers kneading into her skin, pressing into all the places that ached?

To finally, finally satisfy those intimate cravings she had been forced to repress?

Naruto glanced up at her, curious but patient, "Still with me?"

Hinata nodded stiffly, her pulse pounding in her ears, "Y-Yeah… still with you."

"Good."

She swallowed hard, then, in a barely audible whisper, murmured, "I-I'd like to keep my underwear on, please."

Naruto gave a simple nod, "Alrighty."

He jotted something down on the clipboard before glancing back up at her.

"So, next, I will use a variety of oils during the session, all tailored to your needs. Some focus on deep relaxation, others on muscle recovery, and some—" His smirk twitched at the corner, "—heighten sensitivity."

Hinata felt her entire body lock up.

Heighten. Sensitivity.

What the hell did that mean?!

Naruto, clearly picking up on her internal struggle, let out a low chuckle,  "I'll go with whatever you're comfortable with," He assured her smoothly, "And I'll let you know exactly which oil I'm using before I apply it. But if you're unsure…" His smirk deepened slightly, "I can always mix a custom blend—one that covers everything. Keeps things… interesting."

Hinata didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded again, her throat too dry to function properly.

"Alright," Naruto continued, completely at ease as he flipped to the next page, "Last thing—orgasm control."

Hinata nearly choked on her own saliva.

"O-O-Orgasm control?!"

Naruto grinned, tapping the pen against his clipboard, "Yup. You have two options here."

He held up a single finger.

"One: You let it happen naturally. I work you up, and when your body decides it's ready, you let it all go."

Hinata gaped at him.

She wanted to interrupt—to say something—but he held up a second finger.

"Two: You hold back until I give you permission."

Hinata made a sound.

It was somewhere between a squeak and a wheeze, but it definitely didn't sound human.

Naruto's grin only widened.

"That one's my personal favorite, but, again, all up to you."

Hinata just sat there, her lips slightly parted, completely and utterly at a loss for words. This was so much more than she expected—so much more intense than she ever could've imagined.

She had only intended to get a simple, straightforward massage.

And now this…

She couldn't even breathe.

Her heart pounded so rapidly it was starting to scare her, her thoughts tangling into a frantic mess.

It wasn't just about the massage anymore.

No.

This was more than that. So much more.

This was self-care. Attention. Intimacy.

Everything she had denied herself for years.

It was all right here.

In one session.

With him.

Right then and there, that naughty, reckless part of her came rushing back in again.

It whispered—no, it purred in her ear.

"Do it."

"Let go."

"Treat yourself, girl."

And for once—just once—Hinata wanted to listen to it. She had spent her entire life playing it safe, following the rules, sticking to routine.

Always composed. Always responsible. Always predictable.

Never risky.

Never self-indulgent.

And for what?

For what?!

For years of pent-up frustration? Of loneliness?

For a life where she never once let herself chase desire?

No.

Not this time.

This was her chance—her moment—to take something for herself.

To do something wild.

Something reckless.

Something that made her feel alive.

She had come here to take a break from the norm.

To let go.

To finally, finally stop thinking so damn much.

And the answer was right in front of her.

Blonde. Blue-eyed. Smirking like he already knew exactly what was running through her mind.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself.

Then, slowly, deliberately—

She lifted her chin and met his gaze.

"…Okay."

Naruto's smirk widened.

"Yeah?" He stated, more as a confirmation than a question.

Hinata bit her lip, her nerves all over the place, before finally nodding.

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Naruto's grin broadened, flashing those stupidly perfect pearly whites—up close and personal—in a way that made her stomach flip and her womanhood clench in anticipation.

Kami.

She had never been so aware of her own body before.

It was ridiculous.

"That's the spirit," He praised, his approval as warm as it was reassuring. "I promise, you won't regret it, sweetheart."

Sweetheart.

There it was again—that pet name, slipping so effortlessly from his lips.

Hinata barely stifled a whimper, clutching her legs tightly together, desperately willing herself to stay composed.

Naruto's eyes flicked to her midnight blue hair, and he tilted his head, "First, let's start by putting up your hair. It's beautiful, by the way."

Hinata blinked, caught off guard, "Eh?"

"Your hair. The color." He smirked, moving toward one of the counters, grabbing something, "It's unique… kinda mesmerizing, actually."

Hinata's face turned red.

Before she could even process the compliment, Naruto was already in front of her, his strong hands reaching toward her.

"May I?"

She nodded quickly, her embarrassment spiking.

Of course, she had forgotten to put her hair up before coming here. Who in their right mind forgets something so simple when going to a massage parlor?!

So embarrassing.

But then—

Her breath hitched the moment she felt him touch her.

Warm.

Firm.

His palms cradled the sides of her head, gathering the silky strands with practiced ease. His fingers skimmed the nape of her neck, collecting ever strand in those large hands of his, sending a shiver trailing down her spine. Every brush, every subtle tug as he gathered her hair into a loose bundle, was oddly intimate. 

Kami.

She hadn't expected this to feel so… nice.

He was so close, his masculine scent wrapping around her making her head spin.

And it was just him fixing her hair.

What the hell was she going to do when he actually touched her?

"There we go," Naruto murmured, successfully twisting her hair up into a messy high bun, securing it with a hair tie. 

Hinata exhaled the breath she didn't know she was holding.

He stepped back slightly, admiring his work.

"Looks good." He smirked. "Now, onto the next part."

He nodded toward the massage table, "Alright, go ahead and slip out of your clothes. Lie down for me—face down, head resting in the cushion." He instructed, motioning toward the head of the table. 

Hinata froze.

Right.

She had agreed to this.

She had literally just said yes to this.

Her fingers twitched, her heart pounding, but Naruto's voice broke through her hesitation again—casual, reassuring, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"I'm gonna step out for a moment to grab a few extra things for your session. No rush—take your time. When I get back, we'll get started." He gestured toward the counter, "Oh, and you can set your belongings over there if you'd like."

Hinata glanced down at her purse, nodding softly.

His smirk softened just a little, a flicker of something almost teasing behind his gaze, "Don't run away on me now, yeah?"

Hinata squeaked, gripping the hem of her skirt so tightly, she thought she might tear it.

Naruto chuckled, turning on his heel and heading for the door, his presence lingering in the room long after he had stepped out.

Hinata sat there in the silence, her mind spinning, replaying everything that had just unfolded, struggling to fully grasp the weight of her impulsive decision.

Her hands trembled.

Her entire body felt like it was on fire.

And now…

Now, she had to undress.

She covered her burning cheeks with both hands, squeezing her eyes shut as she kicked her legs in a flustered fit.

Kami help her.

Because she was so screwed.

Hinata exhaled deeply, her head resting against the plush, rounded cushion of the massage table, her face settling into the designated opening.

She was down to her underwear now—her finest set, ironically enough.

It wasn't something she had planned. She certainly hadn't woken up this morning thinking, 'Oh, today seems like a great day to wear my sexiest lingerie, just in case I end up half-naked in front of the most gorgeous man I've ever met.'

She groaned inwardly.

Who was she fooling?

Of course, she had. Of course, she planned it. 

And now… here she was.

Half-naked. Face down on the table, waiting.

Her fingers tensed against the plush fabric beneath her, and she forced another breath through her nose.

Relax.

The room was calm, quiet, soothing—everything a massage parlor should be. Soft, tranquil music drifted through the air, blending with the gentle trickle of the water fountain built into the dark tiled wall. 

The warmth from the flickering candles was nice against her skin at least, warm and heady, designed to lull her into relaxation.

And for a moment—just a moment—it worked.

She closed her eyes, letting the tension drain from her muscles, trying to focus on the peaceful ambiance.

The water.

The music.

The peace.

The soft, steady rhythm of her own breath.

But then—

She became aware of something else. 

A new sound. A new rhythm. 

The pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears, loud, unrelenting—drowning out the music, the fountain, everything.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Her nerves coiled tighter.

Her body, despite the comfort of the table, remained on edge.

She couldn't get Naruto's words out of her head. Everything he had said, everything this massage entailed—it was nothing like what she had originally imagined when she recklessly booked the appointment. 

Not even close.

This was… something else.

Something thrilling.

Something undeniably intimate.

Something she knew would be life-changing. 

Once again, her mind began to scramble. 

But just as she felt herself begin to lose it, just as she was starting to come to terms with how utterly exposed she was—

A knock at the door shattered the quiet.

Hinata stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.

"Hinata-san? Are ya ready, hun?"

That voice. 

Naruto was back.

Hinata jolted upright, her head lifting from the cushion, heart hammering, "H-Hai! I—I'm ready!" She blurted, scrambling to press her face back down into position.

"Alrighty!"

The door clicked open.

Then came, footsteps.

Soft, steady, confident.

Each one sent her heart racing faster, thudding in sync with his approach.

And then—Naruto's voice.

"Good girl."

Hinata squeaked.

A literal, tiny squeak escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her entire body went rigid against the table, toes curling in mortification.

Oh, kami.

Did he just—

Was he—

He was messing with her, wasn't he?

It didn't help that he chuckled, the sound deep, amused, far too satisfied with himself.

"Relax, Hinata-san."

His voice was low, just as before, a warm murmur that sent a gentle shiver down her spine.

The door snapped shut behind him, sealing them off from the rest of the world.

Just the two of them now.

She heard the clink of bottles, the faint rustle of movement as he set something down on the counter closest to her. 

"You're so tense, honey."

Hinata sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers curling into the soft fabric of the table beneath her.

But she couldn't move.

Not when she felt him so close.

Not when every hair on her body stood on edge, her skin prickling with the undeniable awareness of him.

He moved again.

Slow, measured steps, drawing closer—so close, she swore she felt the heat of his gaze trailing over her bare back, over the smooth curves of her body.

Her breath hitched, her stomach twisting as she imagined it—imagined him looking, taking her in, seeing her just in her underwear. 

She sucked in a breath. 

But then, his footsteps changed direction, striding away from her, this time toward the farthest counter. It was then, she heard the faint sound of liquid being poured, the crisp snap of a cap closing, the controlled whoosh of water running as he washed his hands again. 

Her heart pounded against her ribs, her mind spiraling.

The anticipation coiled inside her, tight and heady.

Then she heard it. 

The soft, muted slip of gloves being pulled on.

A quiet sigh left Naruto's lips, as if he were centering himself, rolling his shoulders, flexing his fingers. 

She then heard more footsteps from him, and a brief shuffle of movement, and soon, something warm and weighty draped over her lower half. A towel, she realized, the fabric pressing lightly against her skin, a subtle barrier between her and complete exposure. 

"Alright, sweetheart."

His voice. Deep. Right above her. 

Close enough that she could feel the heat of his presence at her back.

"Let's begin."

Continue Reading on Wattpad Or AO3.

||Previous Chap.||

[the-spam-specialist]

GREETINGS first time asking on tumblr but if your taking drabble request i dont have specific plot but just say it with me: DAD KINGERRR

Oh? Oh you want dad Kinger? WELL I'LL GIVE YA DAD KINGERRRRRR

Her Love

Caine is writing in his emotions journal and asks Kinger for help on writing about Queenie.

Characters: Caine, Kinger, Queenie (mentioned)

Word Count: 500-ish

The soft glow of the digital sun filtered through the gaps in Kinger's pillow fort, creating a cozy, almost ethereal atmosphere. Caine, his chattering teeth head bobbing slightly, sat cross-legged amidst the plush landscape, a small notebook clutched in his hand. His usual boisterous energy was dialed down to a quiet hum as he scribbled with his pen.

Kinger, draped in his familiar purple robe, leaned against a wall of cushions, his gaze soft as he watched Caine. “Having trouble with the journal, Caine?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Caine looked up, his big, expressive eyes wide. “I keep having these… feelings, Kinger,” he confessed, tapping his pen against the notebook. “They’re fuzzy, like looking through fog, but I feel them intensely.” He gestured to the open page filled with messy scrawls. “I was hoping that writing about them would help me unravel them. But it’s not much use if I can't clearly remember what caused these emotions in the first place. “

He paused, then his usual, bright enthusiasm returned. “That’s why I wanted to ask! Could you tell me about Queenie? I need to write down things about her so I can look back and understand.”

"Ah," Kinger replied, a flicker of sadness passing through his gaze before being replaced by a gentle smile. "Well, your memory might be a bit jumbled, but Queenie was a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure. She was funny, always had a joke ready, even if it was a little…odd sometimes," Kinger chuckled, a fond memory surfacing. "She was also incredibly creative. She could turn anything into a work of art, especially with bugs."

Caine's eyes widened. "Bugs?" he echoed, his head tilting.

Kinger nodded. "Yes, bugs! She adored them. I used to hate them, but her infectious enthusiasm… well, it got to me. She had a way of making everything interesting, even the creepy crawlies." He paused, his voice softening. "And Caine, she loved you very, very much. She always was so proud of all of the things you did, even back then."

Caine listened intently, furiously adding to his notes. He paused, looking up at Kinger with a quiet intensity. "Do you think…do you think she would still���like me? Even after how much I’ve changed?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Kinger’s heart ached at the question. He reached out, gently scooping Caine into a hug. The AI was surprisingly light in his arms. "Oh, Caine," Kinger murmured, "without a doubt. Absolutely, without a doubt, Queenie would still love you. She always did, and her love for you wouldn't ever fade, even after all this time."

He looked down at Caine, holding him close. "And just like Queenie, I still love you too," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

Caine melted into the hug, his usual sprightly demeanor replaced by a rare moment of quiet vulnerability. He didn't speak, but Kinger felt the slight tremor in the way Caine held onto him, which told him all he needed to know. For now, enveloped in the warmth of Kinger's embrace and the memory of Queenie's love, the chaotic cogs of the Digital Circus seemed to slow, and Caine felt a profound sense of belonging, a fleeting glimpse of a family he had once known, and a love that still remained.

[popponn]

notes: it's due time for an isagi induced brainrot. do you miss our prime time bbgirl. also he is an aries infj. i will call that interesting. those are the thoughts for this one. warning: none, just isagi as smitten very whipped bf as a good listener.

isagi yoichi loves listening to you.

he has never been the one who talks most of the time, it came naturally to him. he grew up shy, then he was someone who accommodates others first before anything, and at some point, it just became an old habit that died hard.

isagi doesn't exactly hate it. he dares say that his capabilities as a listener often help him in his playmaking. and most of the time, he is surrounded by a bunch of rowdy ones who do more than enough to fill up the silence.

but, in the way he could remember almost everything that comes out of your mouth, in the way that he could tell the slightest difference in your tone, and in the way he knows every single detail of your expression.

he is also self-aware enough to know it is different when it comes to you.

it might be your voice or your choice of words, or maybe it could be the overwhelming desire to know about you as much as you will allow him—isagi doesn't really know, actually. what he actually knows is that whenever you have his attention—it could be a tug on his sleeve, a head leaning into his shoulder, a call of his name—isagi knows that his attention would be on you within a heartbeat. some of his friends tease him for it already. saying if in the field his head is all soccer, out of it then it's just you, you, and you.

he should probably feel more embarrassed about it.

yet every time he hears your voice, every time he feels you slotting yourself beside him like a long-gone part, and every time his eyes meet yours, it is hard not to just make sure he listens to everything. he wants to know what you like, what you dislike, what is hidden in between your tones, and what you want to say to him.

call him dedicated, call him smitten.

but he gets more of you for himself, so who is the winner here?

"How was your day?" Yoichi wastes no time asking you the moment his head lays on your lap.

Hearing that, you give him a humored scoff, whilst your fingers reach down to tangle themselves gently with his hair. "You are the one who just went on a three-day training trip. Shouldn't it be me asking you that?"

A boyish smile found its form on his lips. Then, he laughs, a bit awkwardly yet merrily, as he presses his face to your stomach. "Is that so?"

"What do you think?" you say with hum.

"Even when I really want to hear about yours first?" Yoichi asks once again, his eyes not leaving yours as creases made of happiness and fondness appear around them. It is a look you cannot deny, the two of you know. The egoist is playing unfair.

Therefore, knowing your inescapable defeat, you give him a half-hearted glare. "You really are something, sometimes, you know," you chide, watching the way his grin grows wider.

"I know," Yoichi says, unhesitant and shameless. Everyone already knows he wants to know everything about you and that is how he wants it to be. What should he hide it for?

As you sigh and massage his scalp gently, Yoichi looks at you and teasingly squishes the tip of your nose, "So, how was your day?"

[ghost-bxrd]

Correction. Jason fucking hates school.

Those fucking elitist assholes keep staring at Dick and him like they’re goddamn monkeys in a zoo. One had tried explaining the fucking concept of laptops to them earlier, like they’d been raised in the fuckin’ ass end of nowhere.

That guy had changed his tune real damn fast after Jason pointedly pulled out his own unreleased Wayne tech laptop and fired it up with a harsh glare.

Frankly, Jason wouldn’t be so ticked off if it was just him, but they keep. Targeting. Dick. After they realised that, wow, Jason isn’t the poor back alley rat with an IQ barely high enough to let him breathe correctly and take their shit lying down, they kept trying to crowd Dick.

After the third time some spoiled girl had tried touching the skittish talon in some guise of “Oh wow, your hair looks really soft!“ and Dick’s eyes had done the deer-in-headlights expression where he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to fucking say no Jason had snapped and nearly bit the offending hand off.

The surprised scream he got in retaliation was so fucking worth it, even if he’s pretty sure B will have choice words to say about it once they get back to the manor.

Sadly, Dick had also taken that reaction to mean that Jason felt threatened by the girl, which was… less optimal.

At least Jason had managed to keep him from literally tearing into her. If barely.

“I fuckin’ hate these snobs,“ Jason growls, opening their Alfred issued lunchbox with a bit more force than strictly necessary.

Dick coos inquisitively, back to his bird sounds in the relative privacy of the abandoned classroom they’ve been hiding out in since the fiasco during second period.

Jason hands him one of the sandwiches with peanut butter and jelly he loves so much and chooses one with with cheese and ham for himself, taking a vicious bite to vent his frustration in a way that won’t immediately get them expelled. “All these people thinking we’re some new and shiny toy. Wanna bet they think we don’t even know how to fuckin’ read?“

Dick eats at a more sedate pace from where he’s perched in a crouch on top of a desk, watching Jason rant with attentive eyes.

He doesn’t say anything, but that’s ok. Jason’s spitting enough vitriol for them both, and at least he knows that Dick is listening. Even if Jason were to suddenly switch topics and babble nonsense about the Teletubbies, Dick would still hang onto his every word. It used to be a bit creepy in the beginning, but now it’s… nice. Especially since he’d figured out how to interpret all the bird noises Dick makes.

“Really, if any of these privileged asswi-“

Dick’s head snaps up, body suddenly tense like a bowstring, and Jason whirls around so fast he almost gives himself whiplash, heart in his throat.

His eyes immediately lock onto the previously closed door where a wide eyed boy is standing, laptop under one arm, mouth agape, and looking more like a displaced toddler than a student with the pudgy baby fat clinging to his cheeks.

Dick makes a low tittering sound deep in his throat, wary but not yet hostile, and Jason takes one look at the tiny child that looks like he might start crying under the heavy stare of two older boys and exhales a groan.

“You need something, kid?“

The boy’s wide, blue eyes snap to him and Jason has to blink a bit at how similar they look to his own, if perhaps a few shades lighter.

He shuffles on his feet, clutching the laptop against his chest, “Uh, n-no. I was just- uh- homework.“

— Owl Song pt. iii Preview

[capn-twitchery]

have been slowly chipping away at a fic for the first time grace meets twitch after the rescue & twitch finally got to show up (maybe dead)

[skullsandfeathers]

You Want To Write What?

Ship: Lucanis/Emmrich/Spite Word Count: 734 Tags: academic curiosity

Summary: Emmrich has been getting a lot of questions about his relationship with Lucanis since bringing him back with him to the Necropolis. He has an unconventional idea of how to solve it without being too invasive of their privacy.

Notes: Brought to you by insomnia, a 5-year-old who will not go to sleep, and a stupid idea that wouldn't leave my brain until I put it out into the world.

ao3 link here or under read more

“You want to write what?”

“A book, darling.” Emmrich said plainly, eyes looking to Lucanis with uncertain curiosity. He knew the subject would likely be one that made the Crow pause, perhaps bristle, and he had guessed he would entirely disagree with it, but academic curiosity got the better of him. He had to ask.

“A book.”

“Yes.”

“About us.”

“Yes. About us.”

“About our sex life. ”

“ Well ,” Emmrich said with a little bit of a scoff and a pursed lipped smirk with his arms crossing over his chest. Lucanis mirrored much the same position, though the look on his face was far less amused than the one of Emmrich’s, a frown drawing down the corners of the Crow’s mouth. Emmrich did his best to straighten his expression and cleared his throat before continuing. “It would be from an academic angle, my dear, there wouldn’t be any of the steamier details. ”

“An academic angle?”

“Yes! There is a great deal of curiosity among a number of professors and other senior Mourn Watch in the Necropolis on the metaphysical mechanics behind engaging in intimacy with a person possessed in a copacetic relationship with their maligned spirit–”

“Ah-ha.” Lucanis said skeptically, raising a brow. “And how exactly would they even begin to be curious about said intimacy?” The rogue asked, then a sudden thought hit him and he looked at Emmrich with a mild bit of concern, his sharp brows relaxing more in worry than frustration.

“Have you been talking about us?”

“Heavens no!” Emmrich said, rather quickly and with a huff, but then his own expression relaxed and he let his hands drop down as he approached Lucanis and put a hand on either one of the assassin’s arms, rubbing up and down from his forearm to his shoulders in a reassuring touch. “I have the utmost and deepest respect for your– our –privacy in such delicate matters. But your possession is widely known, as is our relationship. There has been… talk.”

“Talk?”

“Questions.”

“ Mierda , who is asking such questions?”

“A few of my colleagues. It is… a unique situation, it piques the curiosity of many an academic mind. I assure you, I have not given anyone a single detail. But soon, they are going to be coming up with their own theories and conclusions, and–”

“And you want to make sure they don’t get it wrong.” Lucanis said with a little bit of a smirk, and Emmrich sighed with a little bit of a smile, shaking his head.

“No, well, yes. That is part of it… but it is more so that I’d rather put the information out there in as formal and as technical a way as possible so that they stop asking those questions to begin with.” Emmrich said, lips pursed again, but he felt foolish now for even bringing it up. “I am sorry, my darling, it was an inappropriate thing of me to ask–”

Lucanis brought a hand up to stop the mage from talking, then scrubbed over his face, settling to scratch in his beard just under his chin. He gave Emmrich a look with a skeptically raised brow before bringing his hands down to ball into fists and rest them on his hips. “Formal and technical?”

“Yes.”

“And you would not use our names?”

“Absolutely. I would publish it quietly and entirely anonymously.”

Lucanis considered a moment. He realized that Emmrich was doing it more as a way to protect their privacy from the prying curiosity of Emmrich’s fellow Watchers. And it wasn’t as if the book was going to be detailed in the way his favorite romance novels were. It was technical, formal, only the metaphysical mechanics that would be discussed.

“All right. Fine. You can write your book.”

“Wha– are you positive, my dear?”

“On one condition.”

“Anything, darling, you only need ask.”

“Spite and I get to read it before you publish, and if there is anything in there we don’t like, you take it out or don’t publish at all .”

“That is perfectly reasonable, dearest.”

“Good.” Lucanis said, then moved to grab one of Emmrich’s hands and lead him to the room they shared in their apartment in the Necropolis, a smirk on his lips.

“What are you–”

“Research for your book, mi tesoro… ”

With a chuckle and a smirk, Emmrich followed. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

Harrison Gray - Afterglow

• suggestive content (mdni!)

• drabble (wip for a harry smut i'm working on)

• harry × gn reader (in this part) + told in 2nd pov (?)

• mainly just about post-coital intimacy and sleepiness, but i felt like getting a lil poetic w/ it.. lol

> dividers from this post

Harrison’s breath gradually starts to slow as he begins his descent from the height of his climax, body still buzzing with pleasurable sensations. His heart thuds loudly against his chest, pressing light, soft kisses across the expanse your neck and shoulders, teeth grazing your skin as he nuzzles his face against it.

Leaning into Harrison’s ministrations as best you can, you aim to press a soft kiss to wherever you can reach, boneless from exhaustion. Was that his jaw? His cheek? Doesn't matter, you're too tired to think, blissed out and likely not walking for the next week.. or two. Hazy eyes look over at him, smile curling your lips higher as you meet his minty gaze, the butterflies in your chest taking flight.

A chuckle escapes Harry's kiss-swollen lips, his breath warm against your face as he eyes your form, and the number he's done on you this time. So much for just a quickie.. you both should've known better; once you get started, you won't stop until you're ready to pass out.

"You’re the best kind of ruined right now," Harrison purrs, his voice low and husky as he looks down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face as he eyes your sated form. His own body feels warm and languid, content as he lays by you, riding out your highs. Your own response is a slightly less loose grip of his hand, an unintelligible murmur neither of you will remember come morning anyway.

As you enjoy his quiet touches across your skin, you feel yourself dozing off, fighting the losing battle against sleep-heavy eyelids. Breath evening out slowly, it rhythmically hits Harrison's neck in gentle puffs. Harrison looks over at your body, looking like a marionette whose strungs have just been cut, sprawled across his chest in the beginnings of sleep.

Harry's lips curve up into a fond smile as he watches you asleep atop him, his arms wrapping around your limp body to cradle you against him lovingly. He presses a light kiss against your forehead, trying not to wake you (not that much could in this state); his fingers brushing softly against your skin, tracing invisible shapes against your back. The gentle kindness he usually showers you with unparalleled in the honesty that shows in his fondness when he thinks you aren't looking. For a brief moment, Harry thinks to himself that maybe the fox in this fairytale might be happy until its awaiting bitter end.. so long as he's got you by his side until then.

[unhealthy-obsesionss]

1968

i miss my dad. i know hes out saving the country and all but i miss him. petes always crawling under my covers every other day, cant seem to get this bed bug out of my bed. i know he doesnt hear it but i can hear the things he mumbles. he mumbles for you dad.

are you there? are you still fighting? i hope you are. mama and pete and me are counting on you.

--

you liar. you stupid lIAR——

(the rest is scratched out, Mav realizes. The entire page is a bunch of seemingly random scribbles, but behind it are words. Lots of words.)

[powerful-niya]

— (вεтωεεη υs.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟷: 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 + 𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚒𝚗 - (𝙽𝙷𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link To Oneshot Below ↴

Wattpad | AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡If you had to choose between doing what you love and being with who you love, could you make that choice?

Naruto and Hinata, the top figure skating duo from Japan, have effortlessly conquered every challenge they've encountered on the ice together. But now, they're up against a new challenge—one that's found in their hearts, rather than on the ice.

This challenge is a love unplanned—a love constrained by a strict contract, putting them both in a very difficult position.

Regular Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Caught In The Rain • Competitive Skating • Competitive Sports • Contract • Contractual Obligations • Costumes • Drama • December 28 • December 31 • Figure Skating • Forbidden Love • Friends To Lovers • Heavy Angst • Hurt & Comfort• Ice Skating • Love Confessions • Modern AU • Mutual Pining • Partner Skaters • Pretending • Professional Skaters • Romance • Sports AU • Stolen Glances • Tryst • Unplanned Love • Work Partners to Lovers • 2023. 

NSFW Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Body Worship • Bus Sex • Butt Groping • Celebrity Bus • Cock Worship • Couch Sex • Dirty Talk • Desperation • Desperation Sex • Fantasies & Fantasizing • Flexibility • Longing • Loss of control • Love Making (at first) • Marathon sex • Multiple Orgasms • Overstimulation • Praise Kink • Pussy Worship • Riding • Rough sex (soon after) • Sex in a crisis situation • Size Difference Kink • Spanking • Stripping • Striptease • Stockings • Unprotected Sex  • Vaginal Sex  • 2023. 

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚17.1K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚4.3K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Pretending can be a tricky game. 

For some people, it's a breeze—they can slip in and out of different personas as easily as flipping a switch, putting on a convincing act at the drop of a hat or a snap of their fingers. 

Some people actually have a closet full of masks for their pretending, ready to wear whichever one fits the moment perfectly to hide behind. They switch between these masks as easily as changing clothes, effortlessly adapting to any situation like it's second nature.

Like if it was nothing, nothing at all. 

For others, pretending is a struggle—a constant effort that takes a lot of trial and error before they finally get the hang of it.

But for Naruto, pretending wasn't just difficult. It wasn't a minor bump in the road he'd get over soon. It wasn't something he'd get used to or get good at with time or a bit more effort.

No. 

He didn't have the luxury of switching between masks or hiding behind them whenever he wanted, like some people. Pretending wasn't a game or something he did for fun—it was a draining, relentless battle that wore him down every single day.

Pretending was, without a doubt, the hardest thing Naruto had ever faced—the toughest challenge he'd ever had to endure.

And he'd faced plenty of challenges.

As one of the top Japanese male ice skaters in the world, he'd been put through the wringer more times than he could count.

Countless hours of grueling practice, intense competitions, and crushing expectations had pushed him to his limits time and time again, demanding that he give nothing less than his absolute best. 

Each session was a test of endurance for him, and every routine was a shot for him to outshine the competition.

After all, Naruto was a pretty driven man, always pushing himself past the limits set by others to prove himself and excel. And on top of the grueling physical demands, he also had to confront the doubts cast on him as a male skater—doubts that seemed to shadow every step he took.

It was tough. 

Really tough. 

Every time he laces up his skates and hits the ice, he's up against a challenge. But it's one he actually enjoys—the ice, the skating, the music, the cheers, the sweat, the exhaustion, and, most of all, proving everyone wrong.

He loves proving all the doubters wrong—naysayers who said he couldn't do it and the debbie downers who whined that ice skating was a women's sport. 

Naruto even gets a kick out of showing up the critics who claimed he was confused about his identity, out of touch with himself, and that ice skating made him less of a man.

Indeed, proving those people wrong by doing what he loved was fun.

Naruto has spent countless hours on the ice—skating was all he'd ever known, the rhythm of the blades, the chill of the rink, and the thrill of the performance were deeply ingrained in him. Every glide and spin had become second nature, an integral part of who he was.

But there was one thing that stood apart from all of that…

Or rather, one person.

Hinata Hyūga. 

His skating partner.

Naruto stood in the designated waiting area near the rink, his eyes fixed on her as she skated across the ice gracefully. He watched Hinata from the sidelines, waiting for his cue, the precise moment when the music would signal him to join Hinata on the rink.

But for now, it was just her. Just Hinata.

And Naruto watched her in awe. 

He was always in awe of her. 

The blonde skater watched almost in a trance as his partner performed with her opening solo for the prestigious "ISU Grand Prix Of Figure Skating" in Hollywood, LA, California. 

The intensity of the competition was palpable, and the stakes had never felt higher.

The entire arena was hushed, with only the soft scraping of her white skates on the ice, the sweeping classical music, and the occasional gasps and murmurs from the crowd breaking the silence. Every spectator, even the judges, held their breath, captivated by Hinata's mesmerizing performance, all eyes glued to the rink.

Naruto's included.

Hinata's costume dress was a breathtaking piece, its fabric fluttering around her like the delicate feathers of a swan gliding through a gentle breeze. The lights from the arena overhead danced off the glittering embellishments of her costume, causing her dress to shimmer and shine. 

Her costume was the perfect fit to the competition theme: Black Swan. 

Hinata's dress was a striking blend of black and white, split down the middle. The left side was a deep, velvety black, adorned with shimmering sequins that caught the arena's light with every move she made. 

The right side of her dress was a pristine, snowy white, contrasting beautifully with the dark side, adorned with tiny sparkles and swirls. 

Her long gloves followed the same theme, one black and one white, each decorated with delicate sparkles that extended from her hands up to her forearms, matching her dress perfectly. Her usually long, midnight blue hair was elegantly styled into a neat bun on the top of her head, completing her flawless look for the competition. 

Naruto wore a matching outfit to hers, of course. 

He wore a one-piece costume that began with a pristine white at the top, gradually transitioning into a deep black down his toned torso and legs, with white swirls accentuating the color shift.

His right sleeve was all white, while his left sleeve was solid black, creating a striking contrast similar to Hinata's costume.

His costume fit the theme, sure, and it matched his partner's costume, but it was nowhere near as spectacular as Hinata's.

No way.

Hinata seemed to nail the theme perfectly, gliding in sync with the music—a classic piece that everyone would surely recognize.

"Swan Lake" by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. 

She surely embodied a swan, her every movement smooth and graceful, just like a swan gliding effortlessly across a lake. The way she floated across the ice, her costume shimmering with each turn, made it look as if she was dancing on air.

Naruto couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by how beautifully Hinata brought the theme to life. 

She was utterly breathtaking.

Graceful yet powerful—that's how Hinata always skated. 

Watching her was like peering straight into her soul with each performance.

She poured everything into her routine. 

She always did. 

From her delicate facial expressions to the emotions that flowed through her movements, and the graceful sweep of her arms as they reached out and then drew back—each performance was a stunning story told through her skating.

This time was no different.

As Hinata performed her solo tonight, she told a powerful story about the strength that comes from being vulnerable. Her movements to the music spoke of the courage it takes to expose one's true self, capturing the delicate balance between strength and authenticity.

It was truly extraordinary.

And on top of that, Hinata made the routine they'd been perfecting for months—through countless rehearsals, late nights, and early mornings—look so damn effortless. 

Hinata glided smoothly from one move to the next, transitioning seamlessly between spins and jumps, just as they had practiced together, just as she had come to memorize down to the finest detail.

Her spins were flawless. 

Naruto watched in awe as she effortlessly transitioned into a fast-paced layback spin, finishing with a graceful camel spin that left delicate circular marks on the ice. 

Her jumps were just as stunning, with perfect double axels and triple lutzes that had her soaring and spinning through the air, leaving the crowd breathless.

She landed on her blades with a satisfying clank each time, back on her feet like a true professional.

Hinata nailed every move flawlessly, putting on a jaw-dropping performance that would definitely set the bar high for the other skaters and likely earn them both some serious points with the judges.

But Naruto wasn't thinking about the competition at all. 

He wasn't thinking about their potential scores. He wasn't concerned about the judges' opinions or even his routine when it was his turn to join Hinata on the ice.

No, he wasn't thinking about any of that.

Naruto's focus was solely on her, the woman dazzling him from the ice, whose lavender eyes occasionally met his own. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Frequently, Hinata glanced at him as she danced across the rink, her lavender eyes seeking him out from the waiting area, hidden from the audience.

Each time their eyes locked—deep blue meeting soft lavender—it felt like the world around them melted further and further into a blur…

…until it was just the two of them. 

The audience's loud wows and awes, the judges' scrutinizing looks, the flashing cameras, the bright arena lights, the announcer's voices, and even the stadium itself—all of it just faded away.

It was only them—just them.

And soon enough, Hinata wasn't skating for the crowd but for…

…him.

It was always like this between them: fleeting, longing but secretive looks where their gazes created warm, private moments just for them. 

Every time they performed together, whenever their hands touched or their bodies brushed close, they were drawn into a private world of their own making. 

Those looks they exchanged, every second of every day, were a silent yearning for something they both desired but couldn't fully embrace—a longing that always seemed just out of reach.

Naruto couldn't ignore what he felt. He couldn't pretend. 

Sure, he could try. 

Sure, he could push his feelings aside. He could convince himself that what he felt was just a passing phase, and that he will just get over it soon. 

Sure, he could try to act like it didn't bother him and play along, but deep down, he knew he'd only be lying to himself.

The feelings he had been struggling with for so long were impossible to ignore now.

A mistake that's come to consume him. 

When Naruto first teamed up with Hinata, he signed a contract that was clear about one thing: no intimate relationships. 

As long as he pursued ice skating professionally with a partner, he wasn't allowed to fall in love or let emotions get in the way of his career.

He knew that.

They both did. 

Naruto always understood what he was signing up for, knew the strict rules, and was clear on what was expected of him.

Because of this, he knew he shouldn't be feeling this way and was fully aware of the risks of letting these emotions take over. He knew exactly how his coach would react if she found out—what she'd do if she discovered his secret.

Their secret. 

Naruto knew the stakes. 

If their secret were ever discovered, it would mean the end of their figure skating careers.

Everything they'd worked so hard for—the endless hours of practice, the sacrifices made, the competitions won, the fame they'd gained, and their very dreams—were at risk of being ruined.

All because love had somehow crept in and gotten in the way.

Suddenly, the music built to a crescendo, growing louder and louder all around, snapping Naruto out of his thoughts.

His cue to take the ice. 

"Damn it," He muttered, shaking his head to snap himself out of it. That was a mistake—a big one. 

He couldn't afford to space out. 

Not here. 

Not now.

He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing aside the swirling thoughts and annoying emotions that clung to him. 

Then he exhaled, letting it all go.

It's showtime. 

Naruto rubbed his hands together to shake off the tension, and took one more calming breath.

"Here goes." He whispered to himself, before finally, darting out onto the ice.

The icy chill of the arena hit Naruto instantly, chilling his face, body, and legs. The cold air blended with the crisp, slippery feel of the ice beneath his skates. 

Naruto could never grow tired of it—the ice. It was a feeling so familiar, as natural as breathing to him at this point. Every time he stepped onto it, it felt like reconnecting with an old friend he always looked forward to seeing again.

And it felt that way now. 

His taut calf muscles tightened with each powerful push he gave his legs, his black skates carving a swift, graceful path across the ice.

The ice hummed a satisfying, almost musical whisper under Naruto's skates, grounding him in the moment. He mentally rehearsed his routine, syncing with it as he joined Hinata on the rink.

Hinata was already in position, gliding effortlessly across the ice toward him. In that moment, Naruto could see nothing but her—her radiant smile, the rosy flush on her cheeks from the cold, and the sparkle in her lavender eyes. 

He met her in the center of the rink with a big grin, and they seamlessly slipped into a synchronized spin. They twirled around each other, close yet so far. 

They didn't touch—just gazed at each other, eyes locked the whole time. 

Blue meeting lavender, once again.

The sight of Naruto and Hinata finally skating together, their chemistry ignited instantly, sending fireworks of excitement across the entire arena. Their connection was evident even on the arena's TVs, causing the crowd to instantly erupt into a frenzy. 

Gasps and cheers merged into a collective roar that filled the entire space.

The announcers, just as thrilled, could barely contain their excitement over the intercom.

"And here he comes, folks—Naruto Uzumaki, joining his partner Hinata Hyūga after her stunning introductory solo!"

"The way they connect is absolutely breathtaking. Just so breathtaking. This is partner skating at its finest, and we are in for a treat tonight, folks!"

Now together, Naruto and Hinata instantly transitioned into their routine, as they'd done it a million times before.

Just for this moment. 

Hinata took the lead, maintaining their synchronized spin as she gracefully lifted one arm to the rhythm of the music, watching as Naruto mirrored her movements flawlessly. His arm swept down and up above his head in a sweeping arc, just like hers, as if she were looking into a mirror.

She moved her other arm the same way, and Naruto followed suit. 

Next, Hinata extended her hand toward him this time, her fingers forming a dramatic claw before slowly curling into a fist as she pulled away, and Naruto mirrored her.

But they never quite touched. 

Each time they reached, they always pulled back. 

Reach. Retreat. Reach. 

Closer and closer, but never quite touching. 

Like a cycle. 

A painful one.

This part of their routine always spoke to them. It shouldn't have—really. It shouldn't have had any impact on them, but..

…it did. 

It perfectly mirrored the feelings they had for each other, always managing to leave a poignant ache in their hearts—a longing for something they both wanted but couldn't have.

No matter how many times they repeated it. 

No matter how many times they practiced it.

The ache remains.

Naruto's eyes revealed such pain, such raw emotion as he watched Hinata glide backward from the center of the rink, moving away from him and further along the ice.

She kept her knees slightly bent, her legs extending and crossing each other like the delicate sway of a ballet's legs. Her skates traced elegant arcs on the ice as she spiraled backward, leaving a long trail behind. 

But even as Hinata drifted away from Naruto, her hand stretched out toward him, her eyes pleading for him to take it. 

Naruto followed her, reaching back.

His arm stretched out through the cold air, determined to bridge the gap between them.

They reached for each other, incorporating a few individual spins where they spun perfectly in sync, even landing together, before turning and reaching out again.

They drew out the moment for dramatic effect, with Hinata gliding smoothly backward and Naruto advancing just enough until their hands finally….

…met.

But when their hands finally touched, it seemed to ignite a powerful rush of warmth that pulsed through their gloves and into their palms like a heartbeat, spreading through their bodies in soothing waves.

The sensation felt incredible—better than anything they had experienced before. 

They had touched countless times, but this..

This was different.

The moment Naruto's large fingers slid between the gaps of Hinata's smaller ones, and curled around her hand, a deep, unparalleled warmth unfurled in both of their hearts. 

The surprising intensity of the warmth made them both gasp softly. Their fingers instinctively tightened around each other, the connection so strong and reassuring that they couldn't bear to let go. 

Not now.

Not so soon. 

Keeping her hand in his, Naruto guided Hinata's arm over her head and twisted her in a graceful spin perfectly in sync with the music. He skated himself over in a smooth glide, positioning himself directly behind her like her shadow. 

Close behind her, he began sliding his hands gently along her arms, and Hinata couldn't hold back the slight moan that escaped her lips. 

Naruto touched her now, and he took it slow.

Along her chest, his gloved fingers brushed the fabric of her costume, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. His hands moved down the gentle curve of her torso, tracing the contours of her muscles, and he felt her body react to his touch almost instantly, with soft shivers and quivers.

Finally, his hands reached her waist, holding her hips firmly yet gently.

Even in the cold of the stadium, with a chill all around them, Hinata felt warm beneath his fingertips.

She was savoring the moment, just as she always did, whenever she was in Naruto's arms.

His touch was always gentle, but now, to Hinata, it felt almost heightened. Every brush of his fingers felt like a trail of fire on her skin, each caress sending electric shivers down her spine.

It was like time slowed to a crawl, and all she could feel was Naruto.

His breath as it brushed against her ears and cheeks, warm and steady. The heat of his toned body as it pressed so close to hers, making her acutely aware of every inch of him...

And his touch...

Hinata always treasured the moments when Naruto touched her. 

Those fleeting instances when his hands met her skin always seem to send a delightful warmth coursing through her body, radiating like a beacon. Whether his strong yet gentle hands glided along her arms, gripped her hips, or lifted her into the air, a soothing, irresistible heat enveloped her whenever he made contact with…her body.

It shouldn't have felt this way, but it did—like a perfect antidote to her touch-starved dreams.

Hinata glanced back at him with a breathless look that made Naruto's heart skip a beat. Her lavender eyes drew him in every time, their expressiveness saying more than words ever could. 

And as he gazed into them now, they seemed to speak to him, whispering…

"Please touch me more, Naruto-kun. Touch me."

It was a gentle, unspoken plea, a tender whisper in her eyes as she looked over her shoulder at him, standing tall behind her.

Naruto bit his lip. 

Truly, he wished he could touch her more. 

Her body always responded so beautifully to his touch, expanding and contracting as if he were the air she breathed, always returning to him with a graceful, magnetic pull. It was intoxicating.

He craved more. He craved—

The blonde skater took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind. Again. 

Reluctant as he was, and how good it was to hold Hinata, he knew he had to put an end to it.

After all, this was a serious competition.

With that realization, Naruto broke away from their intimate moment, shaking off the titillating effect of touching Hinata, and his expression turned serious again. He refocused and shifted his attention to the next part of their routine. 

But when he did, it seemed as if time snapped back to its usual pace, flowing normally like it did for everyone else.

Naruto grasped her waist firmly, and as if on cue, Hinata bent her knees, poised and ready, just like he was. 

The split-second cue he had been waiting for.

With a smooth lift, he sent her soaring into the air in a high twist. Her dress billowed out around her in a perfect spiral, drawing gasps from the crowd as it fluttered like a blooming flower.

Naruto watched as she flew high into the air, spinning gracefully. And in that quick moment, he caught a glimpse of her smile. 

There was an unspoken trust in that smile, a deep trust in him. Because she knew that whenever she fell, he'd always be there to catch her.

Just like now. 

As Hinata began her descent, Naruto was ready. He lifted his arms high and, with practiced precision, caught her around the waist.

He felt that familiar rush of relief and joy, knowing Hinata was secure in his hands after her aerial stunt. Safe and sound. 

Naruto held her close for a moment, savoring the warmth of her body against his, before gently lowering her back to the ice.

As they continued skating together, the audience seemed to blur further and further away until it was only the two of them, as if no one else existed. 

They looked into each other's eyes and suddenly...

Time didn't matter.

The competition didn't matter.

The judges or their scores didn't matter.

It was just them.

Just like in all their performances, Naruto and Hinata stunned the crowd with their chemistry. They moved together on the ice with such closeness, showing raw emotion through their every move and expression that the audience could actually feel. 

It left everyone breathless. 

The music was captivating from start to finish, flowing through every part of their routine. Every spin, every lift, and every glide of their skates across the ice, the music was there, as if guiding them. 

Hinata's grace paired perfectly with Naruto's strength, like yin and yang. Their choreography, whether synchronized or solo, blended together on the ice, revealing not just their countless hours of practice but also the deep understanding they shared. 

Their love. 

It was evident, no matter how hard they tried to hide it.

Their synchronicity was almost magical, like they were of one mind, one body, one soul. 

When Hinata jumped, Naruto was right there to catch her. 

When she spun, he spun, matching her moves perfectly. 

Whenever she reached for him, he was always ready to clasp her hand and guide her.

There was no escaping what they felt. 

The longer their performance went on, that feeling between them seemed to intensify.

It was new and exhilarating, different from anything they had felt before in previous performances or practices, as if it began anew the moment they first touched tonight.

Every time their hands touched or their eyes locked, that feeling inside them just kept growing stronger.

But reality would ruin it for them each time, reminding them that no matter how strong their feelings were, they couldn't act on them.

They couldn't.

They shouldn't.

They…

Hinata couldn't take it anymore. 

As their routine continued, she began to feel the full weight of everything. 

The unspoken feelings she'd been holding in, the constant longing to be close to Naruto, and the pressure to maintain their perfect image—it was all starting to overwhelm her.

She'd managed to keep it together for so long, but even she had her limits.

Tonight, she reached her breaking point.

As they approached the end of their performance, instead of the usual thrill that would sweep over her, she was overwhelmed by a deep, profound sadness.

Naruto sensed it immediately. 

He knew her too well not to notice. 

As the music began to wind down and the final chords echoed through the arena, he drew her into a tight embrace at the center of the rink. Their bodies were pressed close, the warmth of their breath mingling with the chilly air. Their faces were so close he could feel her every breath on his skin, and their eyes met, saying everything words couldn't express.

They held their position, panting and sweating, mostly satisfied, until the last notes of the music faded into silence.

But as soon as the music ended, the applause from the crowd surged through the stadium, a thunderous wave of sound that echoed endlessly in their ears.

With that, Naruto and Hinata reluctantly pulled away, masking their true feelings behind the broad smiles they had perfected and displayed time and time again.

They waved to the audience and the flashing cameras, even taking a hand-in-hand bow to mark the end of their performance.

The announcers' voices boomed through the speaker in no time, hyping up their performance with excitement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, what a show! Let's hear it for Japan's premier ice skating duo, Naruto Uzumaki and Hinata Hyūga! 

"Give these two a big round of applause for another unforgettable performance!"

The announcers gave them one last shout-out, showering them with praise and cheers that would've made Hinata feel overjoyed on another day—grateful, accomplished even. 

But not now.

She didn't know what had came over her.

She didn't know why she had done it. 

Yet, she turned to Naruto, her face showing a sadness she couldn't keep hidden anymore. Her eyes, usually so bright and joyful, were now clouded with a deep sorrow that instantly wiped the smile from Naruto's face. 

And before he could even speak, to react even, she spoke to him, whispered to him. 

She whispered one word, and he heard it clearly. 

"Gomennasai."

Hinata let go of his hand and sped off across the ice, leaving him behind before he could say a single word. 

He gasped and reached out toward her retreating figure.

"H-Hinata-chan!" Naruto called out, but she didn't respond. She didn't turn back or slow down; she just kept skating, moving further and further away from him until she vanished through the designated gate leading backstage.

The blonde stood there, frozen, as the cheers of the crowd faded into the background. Yet, even now, he could still feel the warmth of Hinata's touch lingering in his outstretched palm.

Naruto frowned.

'Pretending is difficult for you too, isn't it, Hinata-chan?'

Continue Reading On Wattpad Or AO3.

— (⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆)

[darkbluekies]

are there any silas fics coming up 😋 i need my daily dose of silas

I'm writing a very dark one-shot where a rival kidnaps you to teach Silas a lesson.

It doesn't have a name yet, but here's a preview!!

[twistthescript]

June Doe 2024: DAY 21- Summer Vacation

I started this prompt back in early May; yet, with how busy I've been, I wasn't able to finish the initial fic that I've started. So, until I can get around to finishing it, I present you with a drabble and a gift... in the form of a preview for the first fic:

Ocean Would Like to Live, Thank You; Rated G; Out of all the summer traditions known to mankind, Ocean thought drinking from the water hose was the worst.

@june-doe-2024

Preview to Tick-a Tick-a Heard The Crack! under the cut: Currently Rated T; The Choir goes to a theme park. It goes exactly how is expected.

A theme park. It had to be a theme park.

For the record, it started out just fine. They found a good parking spot… you know, that section right next to the handicap parking? That. After ten short minutes of clambering out of Mischa’s truck- and avoiding Ocean as she attempted to slather sunscreen on them for the fifth time that day, the St. Cassian Chamber Choir finally set off for the park. 

It wasn’t even an official choir trip, not really. Sure, they were the choir, and Father Marcus urged them to go on the trip (He’d caught them at the cafe sprawled out around a table)… “It should be good for you,” He’d said. Constance wasn’t sure why they let themselves be persuaded to go. Oh, right. Ocean.

Besides, they can’t back out now. Those tickets were a little steep.

It was fine, truthfully. The food was good- greasy (also expensive) like novelty park food should be… and the bumper cars were fun, you know, after waiting for an hour in line. Constance rubbed the kinks out of her neck. Ocean won. There was no surprise there.

“So… What next?” Mischa, for once, wasn’t on his phone. His fingers were intertwined with Noel’s, who had been tugging them closer and closer to the Ferris wheel at every step. Not that Mischa seemed to mind- his eyes had been locked on the boy for the past hour. Constance’s heart swelled at that. Good on him.

The map was shoved in her face before she could blink, a pale finger tapping against the paper. “The swings are right here, but also the scrambler is right around the corner. Noel said he wanted to go on the Ferris wheel… but that’s halfway across the park…” Ocean’s rambling never ceased to amaze Constance. The redhead was so animated and vibrant when she spoke- and with the afterlife turnaround…

“Yo… Penny!” Mischa exclaimed. Next to him, Noel was slack-jawed. “How in the hell?”

Constance came face to face with a huge stuffed lion, with two legs sticking from the bottom, visible from the knee down. “Penny, what? How?!” A laugh of utter disbelief tore from Constance’s throat. Leave them alone for an hour… they come back with that.

Ricky grinned as he wheeled up to them, stopping to tap out a message. Penny poked her head around the side of the giant plush as Ricky’s AAC device rang out. “We out-rigged the rigger.” 

“Hell yeah, we did!” Penny was visibly vibrating, her twin braids bouncing along with her.

Ocean crossed her arms. “Someone is going to have to hold that, you know. And it is not going to be me.” Constance nudged her. “We’ll take turns. It’s going to be great!” She grinned. “Where are we going next?”

[sugaruapologist]

just a preview of my valentines smut drabble for levi <3 ive been holding onto this for months and im sooo close to being finished with it im so excited!!! it'll be up by tomorrow ❤️❤️

UPDATE:

POSTED HERE

read on ao3