#fell in love with them from that moment on

[lettersofalover]

-> kiss me quick | blurb

paige b. x famous!fem!reader | for @euphternal

genre: fluff

summary: the hard launch of your relationship happens courtside at a nba game because the camera man won’t give up

the camera followed you. from the moment you sat down he was finding angles and sneaky ways to cut to you each timeout or commercial break. you played into it because it was the new normal for your life. with your dads recent acquisition of an nba and wnba team, all eyes were on your family. the media speculated endlessly about your dad, his previous experience, his hockey playing son and you, a model and brand ambassador for multiple luxury brands. you worked alongside you dad in the office with designing the teams public image and crafting more life and energy into the game. the future of quality basketball meant a unforgettable fan experience. you, your friends, and your brothers’ friends always sat front row. you were a loud mouth heckler and famously known for it. there was a video of you that circulated where you told off the referee while simultaneously giving the bird to devin booker after he played dirty.

it was all in good fun, devin would dm you after the game, asking to take you out but you declined - he was 1/2 your type. he was an athletic professional basketball player but he fell short in the most important area. you liked your basketball players to be women, tall and blonde, with a heart of gold. someone who was unapologetic about their loyalty. and that someone, your girlfriend, was paige bueckers.

she was late to the game and when she finally slid into the seat next to you, she held a shirley temple in her hand and a massive smile on her face. she leaned into your ear to say hi and offered you a sip of her drink - she held the straw for you and you took a long swig of the alcoholic drink that she so desperately loved. you couldn’t help but agree that it was delicious. paige leaned back into the seat and placed her arm on the back of your chair, immediately asking about the game. her infamous leg spread made you smile - she looked really fucking good tonight.

“how does dad feel about it?” paige questioned about the teams sudden lackluster performance. paige loved your dad and he loved her right back. he was skeptical of her at first - he assumed she was cozying up to you so that she would get a guaranteed spot on a wnba team. but the more she came around it was clear she loved you and soon, she was family.

“he’s pissed. there’s some disconnect between the coaches and the players and they don’t want to talk through it.” you admitted. paige shook her head in disbelief.

“what are these plays? the guys are reading right through them.” she sighed as the opposing team possessed the ball. the suns executed a perfect counter play to control the ball and lob it to their own player, who dunked and swung on the rim for good measure. he stuck his tongue out in a celebratory fashion and pointed at you - a friendly jab but it didn’t stop the irritation from growing.

the buzzer echoed through the arena and a commercial break ensued and you turned to paige to give her your undivided attention. it had been while since you had seen her last. you crossed your legs and she placed her hand on your knee, listening closely as you tried to talk over the mc announcing a kiss cam. it was in the back of your mind as you talked to her about the meeting you had with your dad but the music overpowered you. suddenly, the crowd whooped and cheered and paige snatched her hand from your leg. you looked up at the jumbotron where the camera man had you promptly placed in a heart with your brothers friend, who sat to the left of you. the both of you laughed and your brothers friend fiend heartbreak as you denied him a kiss.the camera moved on to someone else, thankfully.

the camera bounced between couples, old and young, and you smiled at how interactive the crowd was tonight. even in the midst of one of the worst days of the season, the fans were happy to participate. the crowd grew louder and this time, the camera man settled on paige and your brother who sat to the right of her. he fell over in laughter and she immediately began signaling “no” with her hand swiping back and forth in front of her face. your brother was cackling, pushing her arm playfully and she turned as red as a tomato.

“oh my god they aren’t giving up tonight.” you laughed and your brother said, “i bet yall are next.”

“no shot.” “hell no.” you and paige spoke simultaneously. the camera panned to another couple who seemed to be wearing matching uconn shirts and paige cheered along with the crowd. the buzzer rang again, signaling the end of the break.

“see, i told you that they wouldn’t come back.” you replied but you spoke too soon. the kiss cam was focused squarely on you and paige. the two of you placed on each side of a heart in the jumbotron and to make matters worse the crowd began to chant, “kiss kiss kiss” over and over.

paige looked to you and you looked at her, both of you bursting into laughter. she took the comfortable, easy route, and placed a kiss on your cheek and much to your surprise, the crowd booed and paige threw her hands in the air.

“should we?” she asked as the crowd began chanting “kiss kiss kiss” again, this time louder than the last. you shrugged your shoulders with a smile and bit the inside of your lip and nodded at your girlfriend, who took you face in her hand. she held your jaw sweetly and kissed you. the sound of the crowd was deafening and your heart was beating faster than you knew it could. sneakily, paige wrapped her hand around your neck and pulled you in closer which made you giggle against her lips. you knew it would go viral as soon as the internet got ahold of it. it was an unserious kiss but a kiss nonetheless and you knew that people were shocked to see it. you pulled away from her and waved at the camera before hiding your face in your hands. paige leaned back in her seat once more, a smirk spread across her face.

the crowd was satisfied with the results of their chanting and finally getting you two to kiss. it wasn’t a secret but you kept it private - until now, when you made out with your girlfriend on national television. where there was no back tracking. paige’s phone immediately started to flood with notifications of what just happened, people even sent pictures of the kiss.

“i cannot believe we did that.” you said, “i can’t believe you did that.” you teased. she pulled her phone out and scrolled through the comments flooding her instagram page.

“look,” she pointed at the comments.

user1: always knew she was for the girls but did she have to take my girl smh

user2: paige you didn’t have to break up with me this way

user3: i would die for your gf actually

[vanteguccir]

You Make Loving Fun | Matt Sturniolo

Matt Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the sun inside Matt fell in love with the moon inside Y/N; OR, 4 moments between sunshine Matt and grumpy Y/N.

Warning: Mentions of blood and pain.

Requested?: Yes, by anon

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N has always been known for her serious expression and sarcastic humor. She had a cynical view of the world and seemed to find fault with almost everything around her. On the other hand, Matt was the complete opposite. His smile was like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, brightening up any room with his contagious positivity. It was as if he was determined to find the good in everything, no matter how dark it was.

The two were in the same class together at Boston high school, part of the same group of friends, which meant they did a lot of group work together, and it was precisely there where their contrasting personalities often collided. Y/N was meticulous and perfectionist in her work, while Matt preferred to approach topics with a more relaxed and laid-back attitude. This often put them at odds, but it also created an interesting dynamic.

One afternoon, during a school work meeting at the triplets' house, Y/N was particularly grumpy. She had faced a series of setbacks in her home and was on the verge of exploding. Matt, as always, tried to cheer her up with his light humor and unwavering optimism.

"You should relax a little." Matt murmured with a smile as his right hand worked quickly with his computer mouse, putting together the perfect slide for the presentation that would take place the next day, using Nick and Alahna's notes and research. "Not everything has to be so serious all the time."

Y/N rolled her eyes from her spot on the edge of Matt's bed, pushing the notebook that rested on her thighs roughly, feeling frustrated with his persistent attempt to lift her spirits. She knew he was just trying to help, but at that moment, all she wanted was some peace and quiet.

However, something inside her changed when she lifted her gaze to Matt's smiling face, who was still holding the mouse as he watched her from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the girl saw beyond the surface, beyond the facade of constant happiness. She saw the genuine kindness in his eyes, the compassion in his smile. And for the first time, something inside her crumbled, breaking the wall that had held firm for so many years.

A small smile began to form on Y/N's lips, almost imperceptible, but still present. It was a smile that lit up her entire face in a way never seen before and made her eyes shine with an inner light that had long been dormant.

Matt was surprised to see Y/N smiling, abandoning his task instantly and turning his face completely towards her, trying to make sure he was actually seeing that. It was as if he had witnessed something sacred, something few were lucky enough to see - maybe only him. The brunette was speechless, simply admiring the sight before him.

"What?" Y/N asked, noticing the look of shock on Matt's face, her smile fading almost automatically, giving way to her usual frown.

"It's just…" Matt began, struggling to find the right words. "It's the first time I've seen you actually smiling. And it's so pretty."

Y/N felt shy by the compliment but also inexplicably happy. She had never realized how her smile could affect someone so deeply, especially someone like Matt, who radiated joy wherever he went.

"You should smile more-"

"Shut up."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The night was calm when Matt returned from his hockey practice, but the mood inside the triplets' house was far from peaceful. He walked through his bedroom door with his shoulders hunched and his face pale, showing the anguish that consumed him inside and out.

Y/N, who was sitting on his bed reading a book while she waited for him - a habit created between them, and which his parents and brothers adored - looked up when hearing the door open. Upon seeing Matt, she immediately noticed something was wrong. Her heart sank while witnessing the boy's low stance.

"Matt? Hey, what happened?" She asked, setting the book aside and quickly standing up from her previous seat, walking towards him with a frown decorating her face.

Matt didn't respond right away. Instead, he broke down when his ears finally heard the voice he had waited for so many hours, tears flowing freely down his face. He was shaking, struggling to control his emotions as the weight of his feelings enveloped him like a dense fog.

"Hey pretty boy, breathe." Y/N ordered, pulling him into an awkward but loving hug. "It's okay. Just breathe."

Matt sniffed, trying to regain control of himself. He took a few deep breaths, following her instructions, before finally finding the voice to speak.

"It was at hockey practice." The brunette began, his voice wavering with crying and raw emotions. "One of the guys on the team... he said some horrible things to me about my performance, and I-" A sob interrupted his speech, his blue eyes closing tightly in an attempt to hold in the ugly sounds.

Y/N slowly pulled away, snaking her right hand from his bicep to his head, cupping his cheek gently, looking at his face for the first time that afternoon, her movements stopping suddenly.

The girl felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside her as she saw her boyfriend's face swollen and stained with blood in strategic spots, clearly having been punched by someone else. She clenched her left fist tightly, causing her fingers to take in a pale hue, her eyes flashing with contained fury as her chest tightened with the anguish she felt emanating from Matt's body.

"Who was it?" Y/N's firm and determined voice echoed through the room like thunder as her right hand gently turned his face from side to side, her hard eyes running over his injured skin. "Who said those things to you? No, even better. Who did this to you? I'll finish him off, I swear."

Matt's eyes widened instantly, surprised by her reaction. He knew Y/N could be tough when needed - all the time - but seeing her so determined to protect him left him speechless.

His cheeks took on a reddish hue, disguised by the blood and redness caused by crying, his lips pressed together in an attempt to contain a smile while his heart accelerated involuntarily, a small wince escaping his throat with the movement of his mouth.

"I'm fine, baby-"

"You're not, and after I'm done with whoever did this to you, he won't be fine either." Y/N interrupted him rudely, raising her eyebrows in an act of confrontation, as if she was confronting him to continue the lie.

"It's okay, sunshine. Just let it go. Please?" Matt's warm tongue escaped his lips, wetting them, while his blue eyes seemed to beg her to forget about the guy and focus on himself.

"Alright." The girl let out a loud, angry sigh, rolling her eyes as she stroked his blood-stained cheek gently. "Come on, let's take care of this."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was busy that night, with lively conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. Y/N was sitting at a table next to Matt and his brothers, trying to enjoy the meal despite the crowd around them. However, her already dark mood was about to deepen even further.

As Y/N cut into her steak with an air of concentration, she noticed a man at the next table out of the corner of her eyes. He looked arrogant, a smug smile playing on his lips as he said horrible things about a girl to his table-mates. But it was when he looked in Y/N's direction that she felt a chill run down her spine.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Y/N felt a wave of discomfort spread through her. She couldn't explain why, but something about that guy made her nervous, his arrogant and sexist comments causing her body to scream, almost begging for her to do something.

Matt noticed the subtle change in Y/N's expression and followed her gaze to the next table, running his blue eyes over the unknown man's figure. He frowned, confused by the sudden intensity of Y/N's gaze, practically feeling her fury emanating from her body.

"What's wrong, beautiful?" Matt asked in an almost imperceptible whisper, leaning towards her and bringing his mouth closer to her ear, keeping his eyes on the table next to them. "Why don't we like him?"

Y/N blinked, surprised by Matt's direct question. She turned her head towards him slowly, frowning and running her eyes over his curious and playful expression, their noses almost touching with their proximity.

"You're so annoying, do you know that?" The girl asked in a cynical tone, raising her right eyebrow as she assessed him with her eyes.

"But you still love me." Matt replied quickly, as if he already had the answer on the tip of his tongue. A smirk grew on his lips as he draped his right arm over the back of the wooden chair his girlfriend sat on, caressing the skin of her exposed shoulder with his fingertips gently.

"Doesn't make you less annoying."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N was busy in the kitchen of the large room in her house that she shared with the triplets, preparing a special meal to welcome the boys' parents, Jimmy and Mary Lou, who were about to arrive for a visit in Los Angeles. She was determined to impress them with her cooking skills and make the couple's first day in the bustling city worth it.

While stirring a pan of sauce, Y/N heard footsteps approaching and soon Matt's figure left the small hall that led to their room and entered the kitchen with a beaming smile on his face, his feet taking him closer to his girl almost automatically.

"Hi sunshine, need help?" He asked, stepping forward to grab an apron and approach the stove, his blue eyes darting over all the ingredients laid out as his brain tried to process what she was making.

Y/N looked up at him, her face hardened with concentration as her right hand never stopped moving the spoon.

"No, thank you." The girl responded quickly, shaking her head and returning her gaze to the sauce below her. "I can do this on my own."

Matt frowned, ignoring her answer and rescuing a steak knife from the cutlery drawer, extending his free hand towards the still raw meat, ready to cut it into ideal sizes.

"Matt, I said I can do it myself." Y/N repeated slowly, as if she were speaking to a child, casting a furtive glance at him from the corner of her eye.

"I know you can, petal." The boy murmured softly, putting down the knife and raising his now free hand towards his girl, lightly pressing his warm palm against her still arm, caressing her skin. "But I want to be here with you to help in some way. It doesn't have to be everything or nothing."

Y/N sighed, feeling a little guilty about her own reaction. She didn't want to push Matt away, especially when he was just trying to be caring and helpful.

"Okay... I'm sorry." Her apology escaped in a barely there whisper, her teeth catching her bottom lip in a firm grip.

"What are we having for dinner today?" Chris's loud and excited voice echoed through the living room and kitchen as the boy climbed the stairs that led him from his room, interrupting the moment between the couple, eliciting a laugh from Matt and an eye roll from Y/N.

"None of your business."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @lvrsturn @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @iammattswife

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

(if you asked to be on the taglist but isn't tagged above, it's because you have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow)

[themotherofhorses]

simon riley x fem!reader

Imagine holding Simon when he cries. 

Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human. You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.

You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.  

So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.

You swallow. Did something happen during the mission? 

“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in. 

Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life. 

He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it. 

“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?” 

Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness. 

Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing. 

“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom. 

“Loved him so bloody much.” 

You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot. 

His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.

“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?” 

In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…” 

Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside. 

“It’s okay, baby.”

You kiss his temple.

“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.” 

He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest. 

But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.

"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."

For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."

note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!

[calicoheartz]

Can you write a Caitlin Clark where she always tapes her ring finger before the game and people find videos from way back in high school of her doing this tradition, after a Iowa game she gets interviewed about the tradition, and everyone pays attention even her teammates bc she never told them the reason behind the tradition which was bc she married her high school sweetheart and knew ever since they got together she was gonna marry her

The Promise of Always ; Caitlin Clark ﹒⟢

summary : you and Caitlin being highschool sweethearts ♡

wc; 346

warnings : none , just fluff :)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : im trying my best to finish up the rest of the reqs , there will be a lot more new content by the end of this weekend ❤️ enjoy ◡̈

Caitlin stood at the edge of the basketball court, her fingers deftly wrapping tape around her ring finger.

The star guard was always known for her pre-game routines. One such ritual, unnoticed by many, was the habit of taping her ring finger before every game. A tradition she had carried since her highschool years, with the reason behind it only being known to her, hidden beneath the layers of tape and unspoken memories.

But as Caitlin’s fame grew, so did the curiosity about this particular ritual. People began to notice the taped finger and wondered about its significance. However the point guard kept her reasons to herself, never sharing them even with her closest teammates.

After a particularly thrilling game against a fierce rival, where her skills once again shone brightly, a reporter finally mustered up the courage to ask her about the mysterious tradition.

Caitlin, surprised by the question, remained as composed as ever, paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. She then glanced at her teammates briefly, realizing she never truly explained the reason behind this tradition of hers.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly began to speak. Sharing the story of the time where she met and fell in love with her highschool sweetheart, claiming their bond had been strong from the start, and as they grew older they knew they had to make a promise to eachother. A promise of eternal love and commitment.

“We always knew we were meant to be together,” she explained, “So I started taping my ring as a reminder of the promise we made to eachother long ago. Especially since I cant wear my wedding ring while playing” she giggled.

As the interview spread across social media, videos from Cait’s highschool games resurfaced, showing her taping her finger, a simple but gesture that is so deeply personal yet so powerfully symbolic.

Not long after, pictures of your magical wedding day and quiet engagement were posted to the guards personal social media, no longer feeling the need to keep your whirlwind of a romance a secret.

her post 🥹❤️

liked by : paigebueckers , katemartin03 , and 256,000 others

caitlinclark22 happy anniversary to the person who completes me. My other half. I love you more than words can describe , thank you for giving me the strength and courage to continue with my dreams. I’ve adored you since I was 16, and I will continue to adore you until the end. I love you y/n ! 💍

-

sorry this was so short!! i tried not to stray too far from the prompt so lmk if u want more details! tysm for reading 😊

[vivwritesfics]

Charles,ax and lando ( I have no clue how to spell the ship name lol)

After care maybe some extra about their dynamics in their relationship and in bed 👹🫶🫶🫶

LOVE YOH

Warnings: smut, dom/sub dynamics, foursome

You never really expect to have three partners, right?

Max certainly didn't

Charles certainly didn't

She and lando couldn't say they were surprised

How had it happened?

Well, that's a tough question to answer

She and Lando were together

But they both wanted dominating

It was something they couldn't provide each other with, so it had them opening up their relationship

It was unclear whether they expected it to be a one time thing

Buy they both knew that they liked the feeling of Max abd Charles, their touch, their kisses. They couldn't get enough of it

So, when it happened again, there were no complaints

The way Charles had her bouncing on his cock while Max endlessly teased Charles

The two older drivers (even though they weren't older by much) fully expected to be invited back to hers and Landos hotel room

Maybe that was why Max kissed Charles

Maybe that was why Charles kissed him back

When they were invited to the couples bed the third time, they decided that they didn't want to leave

Even after they'd pulled multiple orgasms out of the couple

Even after they'd cleaned them up, gently moving soapy loofahs over their skin, forced them to drink a glass and a half of water each, they didn't want to leave

They got the two into bed, cuddled them between them

She and lando clung onto each other, legs entwined as they snored lightly

Max played with her hair as she laid against his arm

He looked at Charles who slept behind Lando

Yeah, they weren't going anywhere

Thing's pretty easily fell into place

From the moment they woke up the next morning, they established communication

It was the only way this was going to work

At first she stayed by Lando's side constantly

Needed an extra push before she found the same sorta comfort in Max and Charles

She remembered the first time she kissed the two of them

The first time she threaded her fingers through Charles's hair

The first time she climbed into Maxs lap

It was new territories and she had her first love there to navigate it with her

The sex only got better as the four of them opened up to each other more

She and lando fell into a more submissive role in the relationship

Lando loved it

He loved being able to let someone take control

Holding her hands, kissing her slowly as Max and Charles fucked them

Aftercare though

It was their favourite

Their collective favourite

Max and Charles loved how plyable their bodies were

How easy it was to carry them to the tub

To sit them down together as they cuddled up, Charles washing their sensitive bodies while Max made the bed and got them something to drink

Once they were clean and dried, they got dressed into loose pyjamas (that Lando would definitely discard in the night) and climbed into bed

As Max and Charles showered, she and lando watched a movie,but they weren't much paying attention

Holding each other

Playing with each others hair and fingers

Coming back down

But nothing sated them more than having Max and Charles in the bed with them

[sillymilie]

Charles Leclerc smut

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, moaning, thigh fucking

There was always one thing that always made you go head over heels for your boyfriend of 4 years. The sex. God, he was good. Too good.

You and Charles lived in the same home. After only a year of dating, the both of you knew that what you had was it. Charles had never felt this way for anyone else before and neither have you. Sometimes, you think about the first time you had sex with your boyfriend. It was magical. There was just something about the fact that since the start he'd always been so caring and delicate with your feelings and your body. You were crazy in love, and so was he.

"Hello ma chérie." Charles said, hugging you from behind, his hands placed on your belly. You could feel his warmth wrap around your body, heating you up. (my darling)

"Hi my love. How are you feeling today?" You looked up at him.

"I'm doing pretty good. You?" He asked as he held you closer to him and planted a kiss on your head.

"Me too. I missed you." You said.

"I missed you way more and you know that." He replied.

"How come?" You asked.

"Because of this." Charles placed your hand on his buldge, a shaky sigh coming out of his mouth as you touched him.

Charles had been away for 3 days because of business issues. For you, that had been the worst 3 days of your life. Not seeing Charles was something you absolutely hated and that went both ways for you two.

You smiled as he leaned over you and kissed you while standing behind you. He planted multiple kisses on your neck, giving you small hickeys. You moaned and closed your eyes as you clearly enjoyed him. You turned around to face him and kissed him even more. While playing with his hair and having a makeout session, Charles let out a moan. He picked you up and led you to the bedroom where all the magic would happen. Your boyfriend set you down slowly on the bed, making sure you didn't get hurt in any way possible. Charles took his shirt off. His skin was flushed red and you could see the buldge in his pants, which he took off shortly after you admired him. Charles joined you in bed.

His hands trailed all over your body, squeezing your thighs while taking your pieces of clothing off one by one and throwing them onto the floor. Your partner was on top of you. Your hands were wrapped around Charles' back as he kissed you and rubbed his cock along your thigh. He started fucking your thigh at a faster rate. You could already feel his pre-cum on your bare skin.

"Please Charles- just fuck me already. I can't wait any longer." You whined, pulling away from the kiss while holding eye contact.

"Okay, whatever you want mon amour." Charles answered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear and guiding his cock onto your wet folds. (my love)

Charles' breath was shaky and so was yours. Your nails entered deeper into his back as he got deeper into you. He was big, real big. He let you time to adjust before going in and out of you. You let out moans, which he found beautiful. He loved the feeling of your nails digging into his back as he made you feel like no one else could.

He took the time to make sure you were feeling well and that you were okay with continuing. You quickly nodded and bit your lip as he placed a hand on your breast while the other one rubbed your clit. That man knew what he was doing.

"I'm close- fuck Charles!" You screamed as he pumped in and out of your body.

"Me too (Y/N)- please cum for me. I need you." Charles said, almost reaching his orgasm. He moaned in your ear, calling you nicknames you loved. He told you how much he loves you and how he'll always be yours no matter what happens.

The both of you came at the same time. Charles stopped moving for a minute, taking the time to calm down and enjoy the moment. You were tired, and so was he. Charles softly lied down on you, his dick still inside of you. His head was rested on your breasts as you played with his hair.

He quickly fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you. You did too after giving him soft kisses on his head. You wrapped your arms around his neck and drifted off to sleep.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Devotion.

I just want, or rather need, to write about this scene, because it stuck in my head for the last seven days. And because of the wonderful @lurkingshan I decided to post it...

This scene is the culmination, the end of the years that Qian has forbidden himself to feel joy or love. Romantic love that doesn't demand, that doesn't require him to be in control, to take care, to be the big brother. So far he has not allowed the depth of his feelings for Yuan to surface. He has kept them locked away, kept control of them. He knows they were there, but couldn’t or didn’t dare to face them, to name them. And he would have continued to do so if Yuan hadn't finally told him what he actually wants from him. It wasn't enough for him to tell Qian that he loves him, that it was his own problem, not Qian's, that he was content if the person he loved was happy. The talk with San Pang and the staircase talk were the first steps, Qian is finally able and willing to face those emotions, but couldn’t make up his mind. Still couldn't name those feelings.

Everything is too much for him. He is overwhelmed by the decision he has to make and the possible outcome of that. He could lose Yuan, if they don't work out in the end. If those boundaries are finally crossed, there is no going back to where they were. So Qian needed to hear that Yuan doesn't want him as a brother. Every time Yuan told Qian he can take care of him, he is there for him and holds up the world together with him, it was as a brother. In Qian’s mind, he said that as a brother. All Qian brought Yuan was suffering and sadness and abandonment, because he fell in love with him.

In his mind, Yuan shouldn’t love him as something else than a brother, because that would harm both of them. Because loving Qian isn’t a good thing to do. Qian knows that Yuan loves him but hasn't understood, or rather wanted to understand, the extent of his feelings. Yuan wants to be his partner. He wants him to be able to rely on him, to be Qian's rock, no matter what life brings, he wants to be there for him. And not just for the moment, but for the rest of his life. And not just as a brother Qian has to take care of, but as a lover, the one person who puts Qian first.

He wants to be Qian's partner, he wants to protect him and take the burden off his shoulders. He wants Qian not to have to deal with everything on his own, but to open up to him, to share his worries and hardships with him. And Qian finally understands what it means when Yuan tells him that he can summarize his life in two words: Wei Qian. Yuan puts Qian above himself, he would run to the end of the world for him if he had to, he would fight against the rest of the world if he had to, he will protect him, he will take care of him and love him no matter what the world holds. And finally Qian understands that it's good, that Yuan won't just leave him once he opens up, because he loves everything about him, his dark sides and his light ones. Yuan can take care of him to the end, can love him to the end. And Qian surrenders. He's always in fucking control, no matter what, he has to control everything, even his heart. But at some point, all resistance breaks. He just had to understand.

And when they get into the bedroom, Qian is beaming. The lightning focusses on his face, this delighted face. He is like pudding under Yuan’s kisses, touches, breathes. In that moment he exists only out of his emotions. There is nothing more and nothing more is needed in this situation. He has never looked so weightless before and has certainly never felt like this.

We know what Yuan imagines at night, or at least we have a pretty good idea. We have witnessed countless moments when his love and affection for Qian literally leaked out of his face, while Qian tried to suppress his feelings with a petrified expression. But finally, he can feel them. He allows himself to give in. He allows Yuan to take care of his world, to let him feel how much he loves and desires him. The power of emotions and sensations are depicted on Qian’s face. He has his eyes closed, tasting every single moment, savouring every single touch. Blissfully.

Yuan's presence is Qian's entire focus. Just as Qian is Yuan's entire focus. And he makes sure that Qian feels good, that he forgets everything, all problems and responsibilities, illnesses and losses, for the moment. He takes care of his world. This one thing he wanted to do for so long, he is finally able to do.

(Well, there is an edited version out now with this whole scene as one without the flashbacks, but I saw the other one first and I loved it, so I stick to it.) The whole scene is repeatedly interrupted by scenes from the past and it is always Yuan. I was also a bit irritated by the time jumps at first, I get why people are annoyed by this, but it makes sense. We know that Qian is Yuan's whole world, the centre around which he has revolved for years and for which he would do anything. We see scenes that led to where they are now. Their shared history. Their shared memories. The sequences speed up and at some point it's just Yuan’s face at its core. Yuan. Yuan. Yuan.

And you can understand, without needing to be told, that Yuan is also Qian's whole world. He is the centre, the heart that gives his own life warmth, with whom he can let himself fall, who knows him better than anyone else, who was always there, even when he physically wasn't, the only one who could tell him to do things he didn’t want to do, the one he can’t fucking live without. And Qian surrenders. The feelings he couldn't allow for so long are now boiling out and we have these close-ups of his face and see how he's longed for it. How touch starved this boy was.

I don't need a close-up of Yuan to know that he's enjoying every single second. Would it have been nice? Sure, but I think narratively, that's the way they wanted and needed to go. And I love this whole scene. It's aesthetic, it advances the story, it's intimate and it's fitting for the show. Because Qian always was Yuan’s world and Yuan is Qian’s whole world.

I just wanted or needed to say I love this scene, its buildup, its pace, its hecticness and this disconnected feeling. It's Qian's scene. It's what we've all been dying for, for Qian to finally give in. And when the emotions overwhelm you, then it becomes hectic, then nothing hangs together and thoughts can't be grasped, can't be put in order. You jump from moment to moment, starting at one point and ending at a completely different one. It's Qian's scene. It's not Yuan's. We've had enough scenes to see Yuan's love and devotion, now it's time for Qian. We are, like Yuan, experiencing Qian in his first moment of absolute devotion. Without time, without place, without anger or fear. He doesn't think about the past or worry about the future, because for the first time he lives in the present. Yuan gives him this security that he can let his guard down, give up the control. I don't think Qian has ever felt as safe, secure, and loved as he does in this moment. And I love it so fucking much! Perhaps I just ignore my little dissappointement in them rushing this whole thing, because I watch those scenes with a narrator in my mind and he is giving me so much more in those scenes than the actual scene shows. But I understand everyone who is dissapointed with this scene and editing.

[carpkoinobori]

[❣︎] good luck, babe — huh yunjin x reader

[𖤐] 1/3 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]

song(s): good luck babe - chappel roan | runaway runaway - mars argo | casual - chappel roan |

summary: you’re dream was to debut with your best friend. what do you do when she doesn’t want to debut as your “friend” anymore?

pairing: idol!huh yunjin x soloist!fem!reader | slight idol!nakamura kazuha x soloist!fem!reader

tags: angst, eventual happy ending

wc: 2.7k

cw: mentions of dieting, internalized homophobia LITE, period-typical homophobia

ex: not beta read will do it later sorry 😞

jennifer had been your best friend since highschool— or I guess you should say huh yunjin, now. you both met in your freshman year, and bonded over your love of music and dance. she was loud, extroverted, but not in an obnoxious way— she was like the sun, shining brightly, oozing charisma. She lit up a room, and it was all you could do to chase her warmth like a desperate, frost-bitten flower.

you were still extroverted, albeit enjoying time away from people. you weren’t popular, you were a bit more reserved, a bit more closed off, but relatively well liked for your humor and academic prowess. You had one or two close friends, one of them being yunjin.

it was the summer before 2019 when she told you she wanted to be an idol. You were sleeping over at her house, since your parents were fighting, again. you, who had no real plans after highschool, whose parents didn’t really care what became of their daughter— you smiled and held her hand. You’d follow the sun anywhere it went.

you both made it onto produce 48, jumping up and down, screaming and crying for just the pure joy of it. Alone, again, with her, you held her head in your hands, finally kneeling in front of each other on the hardwood floor, your foreheads touching as you both panted, giggling and smiling still. The moment quickly broke away when you heard the door open, breaking apart faster than you could blink. That’s when it all started, you could say. When you realized you might like your best friend.

you were a rising star, praised for your smooth, detailed dance and soft, honey way of singing. You began to rank higher and higher, everyone loved you— everyone but your best friend. Everyone but who you wished would love you.

a part of you thinks if you weren’t going through your angsty teenaged romance, you wouldn’t have tried as hard to debut as you did. All your songs were about her, her hair, her voice, her eyes— everything about her. She was your reason to keep going. Maybe she deserved some credit, after all, you would never had been as popular if everyone wasn’t so curious to know who Korea’s new rising rookie was so in love with.

when yunjin was eliminated, it was the worst day of your life. The cameras caught you, with your hand over your mouth, frozen, tears falling down your face. You struggled to breath, but finally got up and ran to her. You didn’t even care if the cameras caught you, you didn’t care- you just needed her- your best friend- you needed her.

you cried for days. you tried not to bother anyone, muffling it with a pillow. you got so good at crying quietly, but everyday you’d wake up with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and got told to cover them up. You tried to keep contact, but she “couldn’t handle the reminder,” right now, or so she said. Either way, there was a hundred messages you sent before you got that sharp reminder that you would never be anything more than a friend. maybe less, now. She was never yours. You were on borrowed time. the sun shares its warmth with the whole world, you were just naive enough to believe it was you who allowed it to be shared.

after that, Korea’s rising star fell back to earth. The pretty sunflower wilted, and broke apart. You were eliminated shortly after, and some people put two and two together. There was never enough proof for a scandal, but some people believed that you fell apart because that person you were writing about left, but they still weren’t sure who. God, they’re so dumb.

you continued to be a trainee, lying in wait.

you got called into a meeting. You had the opportunity to debut in a new group. Le Sserafim, they called it, an anagram for im fearless. A part of you laughed. you were never fearless. You were a coward. You couldn’t even tell her how much you loved her. You didn’t try to think about it, though. You hadn’t heard that name in years—

it was three years before you heard the name huh yunjin again. She was coming back, and she was going to debut. In the same group.

and like coming home after years of being lost. obviously, you were ecstatic.

all the starving, all the work, all the tears and pain and suffering— it was all for her. it’d all be worth it to feel her warmth again, to get your sun back, to end this constant winter.

You’d get to be her sunflower, again.

The heat of August in Korea was in full force, and you were wearing nothing too impressive, just a Nirvana shirt you’d had for years and a pair of baggy jeans when you saw her. To be completely transparent, you had heard her before you saw her. You could never forget that laugh. You peeked your head from behind the wall, peering down the corridor. You practically ran to her.

You beamed, barely contained excitement buzzing around you. “JEN! You’re back! Oh my god, how are you? I missed y-” you were cut off. She smiled at you, but it didn’t look.. real. It look practiced. She didn’t smile at you like how she used to.

“I’m good, and yeah, it’s great to be back. Nice to see you again, y/n,” she nodded, before she continued walking with the staff member into a different room, farther down along the corridor.

What just happened? Did she.. not like you, anymore? Did she forget? Did she move on? What were you saying— there was nothing to move on from. Stress relief, she called it. Just a distraction. Casual, easy, quick. What were you thinking? No, really, what were you thinking? She had only dated guys all throughout high school, you were probably just her experiment, just something she tried out.

You decided to find out.

You cornered her in a hallway. Not very classy, you know, but where else could you find her?

“Jen- is there a reason you stopped talking to me? I just- you probably know, we’re gonna debut together now, we need to.. work together. I just- I need to know. Did it mean nothing to you? You were my best friend,”

Yunjin looked vaguely uncomfortable, cringing towards the wall, looking to the side before she spoke. “Listen, y/n, we’re about to debut. I’m about to debut. I’ve been working on this for years, and so have you. Why would we throw it all away? We should focus on our debut, not whatever silly things we did when we were younger,” she shrugged, giving a practiced grin. “Besides, it was never serious, right? You know how I am, we both agreed we were just bored-“

“Bored? Because we were fucking bored? You’ve got to be kidding me, Jen. There’s no way you believe that- I fucking loved you-“

“Yeah, well, it’s over now. We’re debuting. Get it together,” she spat acidly, pushing past you and opening the door to the practice studio before looking over her shoulder. “I mean it, y/n. Just forget about it. It didn’t mean anything to me, and it shouldn’t have meant anything to you either,” she said icily, about to close the door. “Just call me Yunjin, now,” she muttered, door clicking shut behind her, leaving you a bitter, heart broken mess.

you didn’t follow. You figured she needed time alone- she didn’t need you, anymore. you wouldn’t have known how wrong she felt saying it, how it felt like ripping out her heart every time she watched your face break. It was for your own good, she thought. You didn’t need her ruining your chances. You both wanted this, right? To debut? That was the dream— she was doing you a favor.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I can debut in a group,” you said seriously, your hands clasped together. “I would rather be a soloist.. I’ve already written a few songs, I’ve planned the concept— you know how popular I was during Produce 48, right? I swear, just give me a shot-“ You pleaded, beginning to ramble before he cut you off.

“Y/n, you’re an excellent singer, and a well-rounded dancer. You’re an asset, to say the least. I never really wanted you in a group to begin with. I think you have a future as a soloist,” he smiled, nodding. “Sure, why not? Tell me your ideas,”

——————————————————————————————————

it all went from there. You were gonna debut. Either way, even if you were in a group- it wouldn’t be with your best friend, Jennifer. It’d be with Huh Yunjin, idol extraordinaire. You didn’t like her, much. You didn’t want to be her flower, or anyones, for that matter. Returning to the ground was a better choice. Sunflowers were always too bright for you anyway. You preferred white carnations, anyway.

You made your debut around the same time as Le Sserafim, and it was a smash hit. You released your debut album, LIMERENCE, with the title track ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ You were widely praised, forums discussing whether or not the song was about the same person you sang about in Produce 48. They were right, of course, but they’d never guess who. You were on a music show, getting your first win. The Le Sserafim members clapped, and you smiled graciously at them, your gaze lingering on Yunjin’s before you turned to the cameras, smiling, waving, holding the trophy before you were handed the mic for an encore. You smiled, readjusting the trophy in your arms before your voice began to ring out on the loud stage.

“I’m fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth,” you began, glancing at Yunjin not-so-subtlely.

“and guess I’m the fool, with her arms out like an angel through the car sun roof,” memories of fooling around, joking, sneaking out your parents house to meet her, to meet Yunjin. “I don’t wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love,” your voice grew in volume, periodically facing and waving at the cameras, before facing Yunjin once again. You really didn’t care if this was posted on forums, saying there was something going on saying you were rude, you didn’t care— you just needed her to know.

“You only wanna be the one that I call baby,” Yunjin tensed under your gaze, averting her eyes. Sakura and Chaewon looked at her knowingly, a bit disappointed. Kazuha and Eunchae looked a bit confused on why, exactly, you were staring at Yunjin like you wanted her to explode.

“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. You could say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” memories of the seen texts, never responded to, flashed through Yunjin’s mind. That stupid argument a few months ago- was this about her? Who was she kidding, of course it was about her, y/n only loved her. She was secure, in that. She hated it though, she didn’t want to ruin your chances, you should move on from her— she wasn’t good for you, she never would be, you deserved better.

“Good luck, babe! Well, good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe! Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you walked across the stage, staring into the cameras as you said this. You winked, giving a winning smile before continuing. “I’m cliche, who cares? It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair,” another wink. “And I cry, it’s not fair,” you gave a theatric frown, pouting. “I just need a little lovin, I just need a little air,” You kept your gaze off Yunjin for the next few lyrics, acting as if you were now pleading to the crowd, the cameras, for love. Yunjin continued to watch nervously. Why weren’t you looking at her anymore? It started to sound as if you were really, actually over her.

“Think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love. I just wanna love someone who calls me baby-” you began again, gaze lingering on Kazuha, winking at her general direction, waving, and turning back to the cameras. You continued to sing, entertaining the crowd before beginning to look a little more bitter, a little more jaded, a little more angry. “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, with your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘I told you so’, you know I hate to say it, ‘I told you so,’ you know I hate to say, but- I told you so!” You cried, clutching the mic as you sang passionately, years of resentment, of confusion, of anger, of regret, pain- everything you had felt for Yunjin, everything you would feel. This is what this was for.

“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” you spat, making brief eye contact with Yunjin, hatred flashing in your eyes, a mask for the hurt to wear.

“Good luck, babe, well good luck, babe. You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe. Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you sang, crescendo falling, the song ending as the crowd cheered your name, and you finally walked off stage. You walked the building until you found an isolated part with little to no people. You leaned on the vending machine next to the water fountain, sighing. You told your manager you had to use the bathroom, but it was just an excuse to slip away.

You looked up when you heard footsteps. It was the pretty Le Sserafim member you saw standing near Sakura. Kazuha, you think her name was? You’d have to double check.

“Oh, hello,” You smiled, bowing slightly.

“Ack- oh, hello! Congratulations on your win- I liked your song,” The Japanese girl bowed, clasping her hands together.

“Thank you, I quite liked your song as well,” You praised. “You’re very pretty,” you said, a slight grin on your face as the other girl blushed, spluttering with her words. “What’s your name?” “Kazuha- Nakamura Kazuha,” she responded quickly, stuttering. You figured she was Japanese from her name, and smiled warmly. “it’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/n,” You nodded, outstretching your hand, leaning in close to the flustered girl. She took it and you shook her hand, before hearing another set of footsteps.

you looked up to see Yunjin, who looked a tad angry. “Y/n. Congratulations on your win,” she said in a stilted, stiff tone.

“Thank you, Yunjin,” you replied back coolly, carefully practiced facade slipping back into place.

“I’ve got to get going now, Jen- oh, sorry, Yunjin,” You said mockingly, not using honorifics. There were no cameras to catch you here, anyway. You walked off, leaving a dumbfounded Kazuha and even angrier Yunjin.

“…she’s really pretty-,” Kazuha began dreamily, clasping her hands together.

“No,” Yunjin said gruffly, beginning to walk back to the group with Kazuha. “Don’t even think about it, Kazuha! She’s mine,” Yunjin exclaimed childishly, warning Kazuha a bit loudly, causing Chaewon and Sakura to turn to her. “If that song was about you, Yunjin, then I think she might not be yours as much as you think,” Sakura said plainly, tone giving no room for argument as Yunjin averted her eyes, shame and embarrassment burning her face a light red.

‘This was going to be a long comeback period,’ Yunjin thought bitterly, groaning internally as she saw Kazuha begin to scroll though y/n’s Instagram posts as they waited for their manager’s car.

ermmmm hello! I’ve never written for x reader before so I’ve only ever written in third person, bear with me here while I learn how to write this genre ><! this will be three-ish(?) parts. i don’t know who for sure y/n will end up with yet, but.. I will be posting backstories to this, as it was very yn-centric and we don’t get much of yunjins thoughts. Y/n seems delusional but I SWEAAAR she’s not. I’ll post some more works abt how they acted and stories from pd48 days… she’s not insane guys!

also white carnations symbolize pure love and GOOD LUCK. get it?GOOD LUCK. GOOD LUCK, BABE! I’m so funny.

i wrote this in like 3 hours of pure chappel roan good luck babe brain rot pleas forgive me. I’ll beta read it in a few hours after I sleep. thank you jihyoruri for letting me ramble in ur anons for so long 🙏also I love asks plssss send them. byebye now, have a good day! :3

[c-nstantine]

to be a muse

Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work

Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.

"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.

"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.

"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.

"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.

"Yes," Benedict shrugged.

"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.

"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.

-

He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.

"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.

"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.

"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.

"Are you a painter?" He asked.

"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.

"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.

"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.

"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.

"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.

"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.

-

"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.

"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.

"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.

"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.

"Cease what?"

"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 

"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 

"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.

"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 

"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.

"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.

"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.

"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Nightingale 🕊

Dick Grayson x reader

《A/N》: first piece for Dickie bird!! Truthfully, I just whipped this up really quick for my dear friend @allysunny . There isn't much I can do, but I hope this helps a little bit <33

If it's too personal, let me know, and I'll take it down 🫶🏻

~Fi 🐝

《Content》: lots of comfort from Dick. reader is stressed bc of school work. Dickie being the best boyfriend 🩷

《Word count》: 1.5k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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Not only the moon that hung high in the sky but the burning light of your laptop illuminated your face as your tired eyes ran over the words again. With a shaky sigh you closed the device and dragged a hand down your face before a frustrated groan left your throat.

Your forehead rested on your desk as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore the salty sting in your eyes and your closing throat.

"Stupid grading system, stupid classmates..." you forced through your tightened throat, hoping that your wrath and frustration would somehow reach your fellow students on a spiritual level and make them stub their toe or spill their hot drink.

Or accidently end up in crossfire from the many shootings taking place in Gotham. You weren't picky.

Your fingers threaded through your hair and tugged at the roots, trying to get the blizzard of feelings out of your chest.

Before you had any chance to stop it, a few hot tears of frustration trickled down your face, adding to the overwhelming state you were in.

The hard wooden surface of your desk started to hurt your head, pressing unpleasantly agaisnt your forehead. A dull and pulling ache ran up your neck as well, courtesy of the weird twisting position it was in. You couldn't find it in yourself to care, pulling at the strands of your hair.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Dick sighed out in relief once he slipped through the window of your shared livingroom. Patrol wasn't too rough tonight, but he could feel the soreness in his muscle setting in.

A fair consequence after being a bit of a show off with his gymnastic skills.

Your warm apartment was a welcome contrast to the biting cold Gotham nights he knew all too well. Dick wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you and be enveloped by the love that never failed to warm his heart.

He took his mask off his face and ran his hand through his black locks, trying to distract himself from his buzzing skin. The Nightwing suit felt all too tight right now and he couldn’t wait to get it off.

His eyes fell on the bedroom door, slightly ajar, and he cocked a brow. You should be asleep. He let out a sharp breath. He'd told you to sleep. But deep down he knew you'd be up and about the second you heard the window close.

"Stubborn girl..." he grumbled, albeit with a soft and worried intention behind his words.

You could see the door being pushed open from the corner of your eye as a big block of black and blue stepped in.

"Honey..." he said softly followed by a sigh after seeing your hunched over and distraught form at your desk.

"Hi Dickie." You replied, absolutely defeated. The feelings of anger and frustration had faded and left was only the deep sadness of being treated so unfairly.

"Hey, pretty..." his brows scrunched together, not liking how sad and tired you sounded.

"What's wrong, hm? 'Told you to get some sleep." He spoke quietly, prying your hands away from tugging at your hair and replacing them with his, gently petting your locks.

His touch made it even harder to fight the tears you've been trying to hold in. All you wanted was for him to hold you and make everything go quiet, even if it was just for tonight.

You stayed silent for a moment, Dick kneeling next to you.

"Got an e-mail about that presentation.." you explained, ready to break into tears at the mere thought of it. He gently turned your head so you could see him.

"Give me five minutes to get out of this suit and I'm yours, alright? You can tell me all about." He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you nodded your head.

His comforting touch left you in the blink of an eye as he whisked off to the bathroom. With a quick rummage through his drawer, he was already prying at his spandex prison.

Luckily, he had nimble fingers and was back at your side within the promised five minutes, much more comfortable and ready to be your shoulder to cry on.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get tucked in, yeah?" His voice was gentle and soothing, drawing you in like it always did.

Dick took your hand and helped you into bed, knowing well that you didn't need his assistance physically but that you needed to be cared for right now.

You were cuddled up next to him, wrapped in his embrace and your cozy blanket while he stroked your cheek. He frowned slightly at the couple of salty streaks that had ready dried on your skin.

"Are you okay to tell me what happened?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep. You took in a shaky breath.

"D'you remember that project I told you about? You know, that hig presentation with lots of other people?" He hummed in response, listening attentively.

"Well... they fucked it up. None of them were prepared, they were sputtering like a rusty engine- one chick even finished her text while one member was already presenting." You complained, feeling the distaste for such unreliable people bubble up in your chest once again.

"And now..." there was a slight crack in your voice when you spoke, making Dick holding you just a little bit tighter," they're dragging me down with them. I was prepared, I did good, but I get a shit grade too now. It's not fair."

You choked on the last word, finally letting the tears spill. You were already so overwhelmed with work, with things you needed to do that you had no time for, you didn't need a grade you needed to fix just because studying was such a foreign concept to some people.

"It's not fair, Dickie..." you cried, head resting on his shoulder with his head on top of yours. His heart cracked a little. You were such a hard worker, always going above and beyond to achieve your goals. Only to be dragged down due to a chain reaction.

"I'm sorry, baby, you don't deserve that. I know how hard you worked on that. Those assholes didn't even try.." he huffed, wiping at your ever flowing tears.

"A-And now the teacher sent an e-mail which is basically just her saying how disappointed she is and that we're doing terrible." You sobbed, needing all that stress to go somewhere. Dick maneuvered you even closer to him, stroking your back at a comforting pace.

"If anything, they're doing terrible. You did great, honey, okay? You'll figure it out. And I'll be here to support you, you know that. I'm sure you can contact the teacher and work something out. But I just want you to know- look at me.." he said softly, tilting your head to look at him. It pained him to be see you so upset.

He much preferred your pretty lips pulled up into a bright smiled instead of the wobbly pout with tear stained cheeks it was in now.

"I want you to know... that everything will be okay. You will be okay. I promise you." His voice was clear but quiet and soft as he gently bumped his nose against yours.

"You will be okay." He whispered, holding you tightly as you got the last of your sobs out and your breathing evened. They were sweet murmurs against your temple as he had you pressed against his chest, stroking your hair.

Dick held you as the moon shone through the window, he held you until it was covered by clouds and you were plunged into a grey darkness. He held you and wiped and kissed your tears away even as faint peak of colors emerged from the horizon. You were exhausted with puffy eyes as you laid in his embrace, the burden on your chest lightened for now.

You glanced up and saw how dark the bags under his eyes were, but despite that, he was still smiling down on you with a look so sweet and loving you could feel your teeth ache.

"How 'bout we make ourselves a cozy day tomorrow, hm? I'll read you Pride and Prejudice, we can have some cake, cuddle all day.." he trailed off, have of it in a slur as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"I'd love that." You sighed with a sleepy smile, tangling your fingers together.

"You can sing for me, too.." Dick yawned, scooching further down the bed and tucking himself under the blanket, with you tightly held to his chest, of course. You giggled softly, craning your neck to press a kiss to his cheek.

"My lovely, little Nightingale..." he murmured, a dopey smile on his lips.

"I love you, Dickie bird." You said softly, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss before sleep took you away.

"I love you more, honey." He mumbled against your lips, content as ever, with his beloved Nightingale snug in his embrace.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You're gonna be okay, I promise <3

More of my works --> 💫

《DC taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

[bailadeluna]

there’s something so brilliant in cooper howard’s costume design - it’s so much more than just a simple blue and gold cowboy fit.

at the beginning of the show, before the bombs dropped, cooper howard was a good person - always kind to others despite the circumstances or how he was feeling in the moment.

you could say… he was exemplifying the golden rule.

this is evident in his costuming - cooper is decked out in gold even when the bombs dropped. the golden rule is still so close to his heart - i mean come on - look at how tight that bandana is around his neck.

even in certain lighting, his hat looks gold.

cooper howard being a good person and living by the golden rule is what barb probably fell in love with (she has her own interesting character analysis and thought process which i would love to discuss later). because this trait is so admired by her and those around cooper, she probably saw him as who she would hope future generations would become as they grow up in the vaults. people like him are the better future she envisions - so it’s no coincidence that the vault suit is in his colors.

what does the blue symbolize?

well, to me, i think it’s the corporate presence in the world. there’s more blue in the suit than there is gold - hinting at vaultech’s corporate greed, capitalism, and evil machinations. (there was also blue in his old cowboy costume - i.e. the presence of the studio and how they use cooper to push a mccarthyism narrative. kinda in the same way vaultech will use him)

the blue in the suit - symbolizing vaultech’s overwhelming presence and the reason for such a bleak and cruel world - does not swallow up the gold - the small semblance of humanity’s capacity to do and be good. it’s the small hint at barb’s intentions (analogous to the road to hell being paved with good intentions).

yet the man who was an inspiration for vaultech’s workers - the man who they all wished they could be like, the man who symbolized all the “do good” ideas they pass down to their children but in the end have no intention of following them (wink wink, looking at you, hank) - was in the end stripped of all his humanity by the world vaultech created (wow, would you look at that? another analogy for capitalism!)

this man, once rich in morals now robbed of them all, wanders the wasteland a ghoul. everything has been taken from him - symbolized being devoid of layers of skin.

now, he’s nothing but the ghost of the man he once was - haunted by what has been done. everything he wears as the ghoul is frayed, tattered, and dark - symbolizing that cooper howard, that kind and caring man before the bombs is dead.

but wait - is that…

you don’t see it? Ok, i’ll zoom in some more

GOLD? (perhaps even the same shirt he was wearing during the bomb drop??)

perhaps the golden rule, those values that he once held so dearly, are still there just dormant - waiting to be awaken again.

maybe cooper howard can come back… that just maybe there’s still hope for the good in humanity…

[akiizayoi4869]

The Southern Raiders

Been meaning to make my own post about this episode for a while now, so here it is. The main thing I hear about this episode is that Aang didn't understand Katara's pain at all but Zuko did. The notion that a genocide survivor doesn't understand another genocide survivor is certainly one hell of a take, and it's very stupid. Are we really going to forget the air nomad genocide?

Aang lost EVERYTHING because of the war. And to make it worse? He feels guilty because he wasn't there to stop it from happening (even though he wouldn't be able to do much since he hadn't mastered the four elements yet) because he ran away from his duties as the avatar. When Aang finds Monk Gyatso's body in the Southern Air Temple episode, he's overcome with so much grief and anger that he triggers the avatar state:

Katara herself even compares what she's been through to what Aang was feeling in this moment by saying "I know how hard it is to lose the people you love! I went through the same thing when I lost my mom." Certainly sounds like two people who understand each other perfectly if you ask me. Also, in the Lost Adventures comics, we're shown that the Fire Nation used a dirty tactic to smoke out any other airbenders that might have escaped from the genocide.

We see how happy Aang was to learn that some airbenders may have survived, only to find out that it was all a lie to capture any remaining survivors. At the end of the comic he looks disappointed and crushed knowing that the possibility that air nomads fell for this trick and were killed as a result.

A lot of people take Katara saying "I knew you wouldn't understand" to Aang as her saying that he doesn't understand her pain, but if you actually look at the context? That's not what she's saying at all. What she means is that she knew that Aang wouldn't understand her need for VENGEANCE. For her desire to kill her mother's killer. Because Aang was taught that revenge isn't the answer. Even though Aang absolutely understands how she felt, something that he says himself:

In both of those moments he felt extreme anger and hatred, both strong negative feelings that would have caused him to lash out and do something that he would regret later on. Who stops him in both cases? Katara. She calms him down (and can I just say that I think it's really poetic that in this specific episode, Aang's words are what calms Katara down in the end, and is why she decided to spare Yohn Rha?) in his moments of rage, something that he's grateful for.

Another argument that I've seen is that Zuko understands her pain more than Aang because he also lost his mother. While I can see why people make this comparison, those are two entirely different situations. Ursa was banished because she protected Zuko from being killed when he was a child. Which means that she's still alive (as we later find out from those horrible comics). Kya, on the other hand, was KILLED because she protected Katara by saying that she was the waterbender that they were looking for. This happened in a genocidal raid by the Fire Nation. Safe to say that Zuko can never understand what that feels like.

Also, it's pretty crazy to me how people can say that Aang was wrong in this episode, when Zuko HIMSELF says that Aang was actually right, and that what Katara needed in the end was revenge. Aang knows Katara a lot better than Zuko does, and he knows that killing the man who killed her mom would have absolutely destroyed Katara because of the kind of person she is. Just like Aang remembering how he killed all of those Fire Nation soldiers in the North Pole while he was in the avatar state and being controlled by his past lives and the ocean spirit caused him to have nightmares and be terrified of what the avatar state can do. Both of them are alike in that regard. The closest thing I can say that Zuko understands about Katara is her anger. Boy spent 3 seasons being angry so he definitely understands that. But other than that? He doesn't understand her, which is to be expected since he just joined them a few episodes ago, and spent a whole year chasing them and trying to capture Aang. So he's just started getting to really know everyone on a personal level. In conclusion, Aang did indeed understand Katara, and his words were exactly what she needed to hear.

[sunshinepanic]

Unexpected 3

Pairing: Rafe Cameron X Reader

Summary: If someone had told you exactly what was going to happen when you left the boneyard with Rafe you never would have believed them.

Chapter Warning: JJ is kind of a douche, Angst, fluff, smut

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 2,062

OBX Masterlist - Series Masterlist

Finishing off your night eating pizza while sitting on Rafe’s kitchen counter in Tannyhill was not how you expected to end your night, but here you are. After Rafe found you at the boneyard all alone, he drove you back to Tannyhill so he could give you back your skateboard that he had left in his bedroom. As you followed him into the giant house, you couldn’t help but feel out of place. Everything was so extravagant that you were afraid if you moved wrong, you would ruin something you would never be able to afford to pay his family back for. Rafe, seemingly able to sense your feelings, smiled at you. “Relax, Sunshine. I know it’s a lot to get used to, but I promise you, even if you set something on fire in the living room, no one would notice. Besides, my family is out of town with Wheezie right now.” You felt some of the tension leave your shoulders as he caused you to laugh, and he continued to lead you through the house to the kitchen. Rafe opened the fridge and pulled out a soda for you and a beer for himself before asking you what kind of pizza you wanted. Once Rafe placed your order, you and him fell into an easy conversation. 

Once the pizza was delivered, you found yourself sitting on the kitchen counter eating while Rafe stood across from you. Every time he would finish a piece of pizza, he would gently throw his crust at you, causing you to squeal and duck out of the way while he laughed and claimed he was trying to throw it back in the box and not at you. You dodged the last crust he threw at you, tossing your own at him and smacking him in the chest with it. “So I have a serious question for you.” Rafe quirked his eyebrow at you. “Ok shoot.” You stared at him for a moment before asking. “Why do you call me sunshine?” The question seemed to startle a laugh out of Rafe. “You really want to know?” When you continued to stare at him, Rafe relented. “The first time I ever saw you, you were running around with John B and JJ, and you had the most intense resting bitch face I had ever seen. You were intimidating as hell, and I remember someone saying, “Well, isn’t she just a ray of sunshine?” And I thought it fit you perfectly.” After a few moments of silence, you doubled over in laughter. You couldn’t believe all this time he has been calling you sunshine because of your resting bitch face. 

Once your laughter died down, Rafe got a curious look on his face as he asked you, “So how are things with JJ? Are you doing okay?" You took a minute to think about your answer. “Things are a little awkward, but that’s expected. I love Kie and JJ, and I want them to be happy. It just hurts how he went about everything, but I’ll be fine. JJ is acting weird towards me a little, but I figure he’s just worried because of how everything went down.” Rafe nodded along as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad you are feeling better about everything. I know how you felt about him, even if I don’t get the appeal at all.” You laughed and threw another pizza crust at him for the subtle jab he threw in about JJ. “You actually helped me with that a lot. I was in my head about it, but you helped distract me and get me out of my own head. That reminds me.” You remembered the bracelet you made for him and removed it from your other bracelets. You quickly toss it at him. His eyes widen as he catches it. “I made this for you. I know it’s not a lot, and you will probably think it’s stupid, I don’t expect you to wear it or anything, but I wanted to give you something to say thanks for the other night.” Rafe looked down at the bracelet, running his thumb across the little sun charm you had woven into it. No one had ever given him something; they actually put time and effort into making him. Usually, people opt to just throw money at him or randomly buy something expensive with no thought behind it. Just when you were starting to feel really stupid about the whole situation, Rafe’s big hands were cupping your face, and his lips were crashing against your own. You startled for a moment, as you didn’t even register him moving towards you, but you quickly reciprocated the kiss, gripping onto his broad shoulders. 

If kissing JJ knocked the wind out of you, kissing Rafe was like being set on fire. Your entire body felt like a live wire, and you were hyper-aware of every point of contact. Rafe’s hands found their way to your hips, and he bit your lip as he gripped them, causing you to moan. Rafe took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth. You buried your hands in his hair as your hips rolled against him, feeling his growing erection pressing against you. Rafe pulled back from the kiss, breathing heavily, and it jerked you out of your daze. You felt panic start to set in. This couldn’t happen to you again. You knew he was just fucking with you. God damn it, how fucking pathetic could you be? He was probably going to tell everyone about this and how delusional you were to think he would actually give you the time of day. Then Rafe’s rough voice cut through your internal monologue. “Is this okay? Do you want me to stop?” You focused back on him, noticing that he wasn’t pulling away, and he looked like he genuinely just wanted to make sure you were okay with this. Panting, you nodded your head, not trusting your voice, and surged forward to kiss him again.

Rafe’s hands slid under your hips as he hoisted you off the kitchen counter, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Somehow he managed to maneuver you up the stairs and to his bedroom, where he kicked the door shut and gently let you down. You slid your hands under Rafe’s shirt, and he quickly pulled it over his head. You left kisses across his chest as your hands got to work on removing his belt and jeans. Once you got his pants undone, they fell to the ground, and you dropped to your knees on the plush carpet, kissing your way down his body. Rafe groaned at the sight of you looking up at him as you slowly pulled his black boxer briefs down his muscular thighs. Rafe’s chest was heaving as you looked up at him from your position on your knees, and you slowly leaned forward, licking a stripe up his hard length, causing his head to fall back and a moan to fall from his lips. There was something so exhilarating about how you had him completely naked and wanting while you were still fully clothed. Rafe quickly looked back down at you as you took his length into your warm mouth. Your eyes slipped shut in concentration as you tried to take all of him into your mouth. You feel him thread his fingers through your hair. “Eyes up here, baby. Take your time.” Maintaining eye contact with Rafe as he moaned and praise fell from his lips caused you to clench your thighs together, looking for some sort of relief. 

You take what you can’t fit into your mouth in your hand and slowly guide him back into your mouth. You maintain eye contact as your tongue moves slowly under the ridge and around his tip, causing his breathing to become faster. As you increase suction, you feel him straining to hold back his orgasm. The next thing you know, Rafe is hauling you up from the ground and tossing you on the bed. It startles a laugh out of you, but then he quickly covers your body with his own. He slides his hands up under his sweatshirt as he’s kissing you. Leaning back, he helps you sit up to remove it. Noticing you aren’t wearing anything underneath, he lets out a groan as his eyes catch on the baby blue barbells that adorn your puffy nipples. “God damn it, you’re perfect.” Rafe quickly leans down, attaching his mouth to one nipple and then the next, causing you to moan and arch into his warm mouth. He takes his time alternatingly kissing your breasts and playing with your nipple rings with his tongue while he undoes your shorts, slipping them off and throwing them across the room.

He slowly works his way down your body, maintaining eye contact, and places a kiss on your black silk panties. “Look at you; you’re so wet, and I’ve barely even touched you, Sunshine. Did sucking my cock make you this wet?” You let out a pitiful whine, bucking your hips towards his face. Chuckling, he pins your hips to the mattress as he slowly peels the damp fabric away. “Use your words, baby.” Whining, you relent. “Yes. It’s all because of you. Please touch me.” A predatory smile slides across his beautiful face. “Good girl.” He dives down, licking a broad stripe up your center, causing you to moan. Sitting up on your elbows, you are mesmerized as he laps at your core like you are the sweetest thing he has ever tasted. You toss your head back as Rafe waists no time pushing two fingers into your needy core. His fingers are so long and thick, hitting all the spots you can never manage to reach by yourself. You can feel your orgasm approaching as your walls start to tighten around his thick fingers, but before you can crash over the edge, Rafe pulls away, causing you to whimper at the sudden empty feeling. Chuckling Rafe shushes you as he crawls back over your body. "Shh, shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good. I promise. But the first time I make you cum, I want it to be on my cock.” He smirks as he guides his tip to your entrance. All of the air is knocked out of you as you feel him slowly start to sink into you. You wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back at the almost painful stretch. You weren’t a virgin by any means, but he was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with. Once he was fully seated inside you, he gave you a few minutes to adjust while kissing you passionately. When he started making shallow thrusts, you moaned at the feeling, spurring him to go faster and a bit harder. "God, Sunshine, look at you; you’re taking me so well.” The praise falling from his lips, along with the bruising grip he had on your hips and the exquisite feeling of him pounding into you, was pushing you rapidly towards your release. Rafe could feel your orgasm getting closer as you moaned louder. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” You feel his hand move, and his thumb starts to rub tight circles over your aching clit. You feel your walls start to convulse around him as your back arches and stars flash behind your eyes. You dig your nails into his back once again, triggering his release. You feel him spasm inside of your sensative walls as you slowly come down from your high.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Rafe carefully slips out of you and makes his way to the en-suite bathroom. Before you can start to feel awkward, Rafe reappears with a damp cloth and gently cleans you up, wiping over your sensitive pussy with the cool cloth. Once he’s finished, he tosses the cloth somewhere in the room as he lays down and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his warm chest. Surrounded by Rafe’s woodsy scent and his heartbeat in your ear, you start to drift off. You know that you should talk about what just happened, but before you can say anything, sleep pulls you under.

Next

Tags: @starkeys-world @nnarellia @iluvanakinskywalker @maybankslover @hazzarules @my-fabulouseness-has-arrived @fishingirl12 @redhead1180 @esquivelbianca

[lintubintu]

Kot Kot Review

I like Kot Kot a lot.

Despite the almost harsh difference between the intro and how the song progresses, it´s not too out there.

The music seems chaotic and structured, is melodic, nostalgic and two-faced more out of necessity than provocation, and it´s ongoing. It spirals.

There is a lovely moodiness to it that seems mature and balanced, deliberately using the intro as a bridge again and repurposing the funky "kot kot" into something that softens into the lighter part of the song. The change of pace is noticeable but not alarming and almost hopeful.

Kot Kot is not a big song nor does it exist to troll. It enjoys being silly with the chicken theme and builds a narrative that can be purposely misunderstood by people who don´t like him.

During my first listen I was a little confused but intrigued by the seemingly contradicting parts that adapt well by the second listen. Pop and Rap evolve from clashing into shaking hands.

It feels a bit like a song nobody would put on an album anymore because it is deemed barely good enough to keep up with its fellow, more popular tunes. It stands on its own where others see a filler track.

Overall, it makes me have more hope for the album now; for it to be an album and not just a compilation of Singles.

I wouldn´t be surprised if this song was the opening number, nor would I be shocked to not find an Intro at all – Kot Kot is an introduction in itself.

From what I understand of the lyrics, it also is the first song of his that makes me want to know more about him as a lyricist.

To start the song of with MAYDAY is a deliberate choice because the song is not what it seems.

It´s soft spoken and not a shrill cry for help but knows of something that already affects the narrator enough that reaching out soon is imminent. It´s a literal stress signal.

The teaser made me think the protagonist in this song was simply sick of being treated like someone doomed to continue staging a party for others.

Relying on translations and interpretations of this song, the protagonist seems to realise that their lifestyle will rather leave them with very little time spent having fun with friends – because even the party-goers have gone to bed earlier than them.

Those that tried to keep up with them may have lost their step and had to give in to their own different schedules, or are worse off for keeping them company. So their company diminishes further.

There might be little life beyond the lifestyle, the sobering thought that solitude is too close within reach for comfort – the time left after work cannot always be shared nor of quality due to their schedule.

A double blow. Real life and bonding has to be spent in time confetti. Throughout it all, the silliness persists.

Rather laughable is the Explicit rating of this song. Was it the Perhana!?

The ending is a jumpscare, them finally being silly, breaking the cycle. But at the same time, it´s a rooster greeting the morning – the protagonist worked the night away.

For a moment, you are relieved the song is over. And then you play it again.

I would love for the upcoming album to be a concept album.

This song seems to divide people in a different way than songs before it did.

Some of you seem puzzled, others more neutral than hateful, none of the dislike so far is really loud.

The timing might be a bit unfortunate – song releases at this hour have the same problems as the protagonist in Kot Kot.

And even if you really don´t like this song, I fell that there will be something on the album that you will like.

It´s ok to not like things and it doesn´t have to be justified.

Still, I am interested to hear what you don´t like about this song because I think it makes for a worthwhile conversation and I like interacting with you.

Let´s do that while we have the time.

[egonspenglerishot]

request if you are still doing them, Egon sees reader babysitting Oscar after coming back to the station from a bust and is absolutely in love with their parental energy. He thinks how good they would be looking after their own kids.

Oh

My

God

Yes

Baby Fever

You were walking around the firehouse gently bouncing Oscar on your hip. Dana had called in a favour as she’d had to stay late at the orchestra for the all night performance. Naturally, you agreed, you loved little Oscar, how he was always curious and really really happy to see you and Egon almost all of the time. You cooed at him and rubbed his back, he was refusing to settle and it was worrying you. You tried everything, his bottle, his pacifer, even singing. You weren’t the world’s worst, you could hold a melody atleast.

You’d lost track of time and the guys were already back from their night time busts. The most recent had taken it out of all of them, and they were all covered in ectoplasm. You sat on Egons bed and held Oscar close. It’s like he knew they were back, and not from the smell. His eyes were latched onto the bedroom door waiting for Egon. That’s when it cracked in your mind that Oscar had wanted to wait for Egon to get home. A small smile spread on your face “he’ll be here in a moment why don’t we settle down okay?” He seemed to be calmer and more at ease now, letting you lay down with him resting on your chest. Within a few seconds he was fast asleep and you yourself were close to falling asleep. The bedroom door opened and the four men stumbled in tired beyond belief.

Egon smiled gently seeing you and Oscar on his bed, but something inside him switched when he realized how close you and Oscar were. You were always so motherly to him, you were always so sweet and kind, it made him want children of his own with you. Egon tries telling himself children would just hinder the ghostbusters, or they’d grow up without a dad, but every time he saw you with Oscar in your arms, it made his heart swell and beat a little faster. He sighed and took his glasses off putting them on his bedside before getting into bed with you and Oscar. You shifted in your sleep and held Oscar close as Egon snuggled up to you, his heart beating faster. He was never good with emotion, his parents rarely gave him any attention.

But every little kiss or nuzzle from you made his heart swell. His mind drifted to his bedside table where he was keeping the ring. Maybe in the future you two would marry, you’d have children of your own, hell you could maybe become a ghostbuster like him, then you could alternate between looking after your children. Egon smiled sleepily and kissed your forehead before he fell asleep.

Peter and Ray looked at each other and Peter smirked “someone has baby fever”

[pin-k-ink]

(Since you were asking for a thirst HAHDNDJDNDSN)

My man (Fukuzawa) has few smut here in tumblr, he needs justice.

And I needed to be manhandled by that fine dilf.

— 🌊🪷

crucible // fukuzawa yukichi

tw ⇢ jealous!fukuzawa, possessive!fukuzawa, so much sexual tension, fukuzawa in denial, making out, teasing, office sex, sir kink cx its fukuzawa, rough sex, manhandling ofc, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, spanking

wc ⇢ 5.2k

a/n: anon, you just reawakened my love for fictional characters nearly twice my age

The oppressive August heat blanketed Yokohama, the air heavy and thick, clinging to your skin like a damp cloth. In the offices of the Armed Detective Agency, the ancient air conditioner wheezed and rattled, providing little relief from the sweltering temperatures. Beads of sweat gathered at your brow and trickled down the back of your neck as you sat at your desk, trying to focus on the stack of case files in front of you.

But your mind kept drifting, your thoughts inevitably drawn to the Agency's distinguished leader, Yukichi Fukuzawa. From the moment you'd started working here, you'd been captivated by him - his sophisticated air, his commanding presence, the way his steely gaze seemed to pierce right through you. It was more than just physical attraction, though that was certainly part of it. There was something about him, an aura of power and control, that drew you like a moth to a flame.

You knew it was risky, knew that getting involved with your boss was a recipe for disaster. But you couldn't help yourself. Every interaction with him left you wanting more, your skin buzzing with a kind of electric anticipation.

It started small, innocently enough. A smile that lingered just a beat too long, a brush of fingers as you handed him a file. But as the months went by, you grew bolder, more overt in your flirtations.

Each morning, you greeted Fukuzawa with a smile that bordered on coy, your voice low and honeyed. "Good morning, sir," you'd purr, leaning in just a little too close as you handed him his daily schedule. The subtle widening of his eyes, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, was all the encouragement you needed.

You started putting more effort into your appearance, choosing blouses that hugged your curves, skirts that fell just an inch shorter than was strictly professional. You told yourself it wasn't for him, that you just wanted to feel good about yourself. But deep down, you knew the truth. You wanted him to notice you, to feel the weight of his gaze on your skin.

And notice he did. You'd catch him watching you as you moved around the office, his eyes following the sway of your hips, lingering on the exposed slice of skin at your throat. His face would remain impassive, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers would tighten around his pen.

It became a kind of game, a forbidden dance of push and pull. You'd lean over his desk to point out a detail in a report, letting your blouse gape open just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. You'd brush past him in the hallway, your hand grazing his arm, letting the contact linger a moment longer than necessary.

Each small victory sent a thrill through you, a heady rush of power. You were getting to him, chipping away at that legendary self-control. It was only a matter of time before he snapped.

But it wasn't enough. The more you got, the more you wanted. Stolen glances and fleeting touches only fanned the flames of your desire, leaving you aching and restless. You found yourself daydreaming during the long, humid afternoons, your mind conjuring up vivid fantasies of Fukuzawa's hands on your body, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin. You'd imagine him bending you over his desk, his fingers digging into your hips as he finally fucked you, claiming you as his own.

The fantasies were so real, so visceral, that you'd often snap out of them flushed and breathless, your heart racing and your pussy throbbing with need. You'd clench your thighs together, trying to quell the ache, but it was never enough. You wanted him, needed him, with an intensity that frightened and exhilarated you in equal measure.

And so, you started pushing harder, growing bolder in your advances. Determined to shatter his iron self-control, to make him admit that he wanted you just as desperately as you wanted him.

You began openly flirting with the other men in the office, particularly Atsushi, the youngest and most naive of the bunch. You'd perch on the edge of his desk, leaning in close as you pointed out details in case files, letting your breasts brush against his arm. You'd laugh just a little too loudly at his jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder and fixing him with a dazzling smile.

And all the while, you'd feel Fukuzawa's gaze burning into your back, his eyes tracking your every move. You'd see his jaw clench, his fist tighten at his side, and a dark thrill would course through you. He was jealous, you could tell. The knowledge was intoxicating.

Late one sweltering evening, as you were leaving the office, you suddenly felt Fukuzawa's hand close around your wrist. Before you could respond, he was guiding you into his office and shutting the door behind you. Your heart raced at his proximity, the air practically crackling between you.

"Your behavior has been quite inappropriate," he said in a low voice, his eyes boring into yours. "If you continue this way, there will be consequences."

His gaze drifted to your lips and for a wild, breathless moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you. But then he released you and took a measured step back, leaving you dizzy and aching for more.

In the days that followed, the memory of that charged moment in Fukuzawa's office lingered, a constant distraction. Your skin prickled with awareness whenever he was near, your body attuned to his presence like a tuning fork. You tried to focus on your work, but your mind kept conjuring up the phantom sensation of his fingers wrapped around your wrist, the heat of his gaze on your mouth.

You dialed back on your flirtations with the other men, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop teasing Fukuzawa. If anything, you became bolder, more overt in your intentions. You started staying late at the office, finding excuses to be alone with him. In the evenings, when the rest of the staff had gone home, you'd slip into his office with flimsy pretexts, perching on the edge of his desk and leaning in close as you spoke.

During one such encounter, emboldened by the late hour and the intimacy of the dimly lit room, you placed your hand over his as you pointed out a detail in a case file. Fukuzawa stilled, his eyes flickering to yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Slowly, deliberately, he turned his hand over beneath yours, his palm hot against your own.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he said quietly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His fingers curled around yours, just for a moment, before he drew away.

You knew he was right, knew that you were both wading into treacherous waters. But you were too far gone to turn back now, too intoxicated by the simmering tension that coiled between you.

As the summer heat rose, so did the stakes of your forbidden dance. Stolen glances turned into fleeting caresses, plausible deniability becoming paper-thin. The air grew heavy with unspoken desire, with the tantalizing promise of what could be.

And then, one storm-dark night, the levee finally broke.

You were working late again, poring over witness statements, when the power suddenly cut out. The office was plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the occasional flash of lightning outside the rain-lashed windows. You heard Fukuzawa's office door open, heard his measured footsteps approaching.

"The whole block is out," he said, his tall silhouette appearing in your doorway. "We might as well call it a night."

You nodded, your tongue suddenly feeling too thick for your mouth. A strange anticipation crackled through you as you gathered your things by feel, every nerve ending alight. You startled when you felt Fukuzawa's hand on the small of your back, guiding you out into the pitch-black hallway.

In the darkness, every sensation was magnified. The sound of your breathing, the warm press of his palm against your spine, the electric awareness of his body mere inches from yours. Your heart was beating so loudly, you were certain he must hear it.

And then, between one step and the next, Fukuzawa halted. His hand slid slowly up your back, his fingers curling around your nape. You turned to face him, dizzy with want, scarcely daring to breathe.

For a long, suspended moment, you hovered there in the charged darkness. The air felt thick, weighted with expectation. You could just make out the gleam of Fukuzawa's eyes, could feel the tension emanating from him in waves.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice rough as gravel, "and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. You wanted him to keep going, to finally unleash the pent-up hunger that had been consuming you for months. Throwing caution to the wind, you closed the last breath of distance between you and captured his lips with your own...

Heart pounding, you melted into Fukuzawa's embrace, your lips moving feverishly against his. His mouth was hot and insistent, his strong hands gripping your hips as he backed you up against the wall. You gasped as your back hit the cool surface, the contrast with your overheated skin sending sparks rushing through you.

Fukuzawa took advantage of your parted lips, deepening the kiss with a low groan that reverberated through your body. You clung to his broad shoulders, dizzy with sensation, your head spinning with the headiness of finally, finally having him exactly where you'd wanted him for so long.

His hands roamed your curves possessively, setting you alight even through the barrier of your clothing. His hands slid up your thighs, under your skirt, his fingers digging into your flesh. Dimly, you registered the rasp of his stubble against your skin, the throaty sounds of desire he made as he kissed you senseless. It was better than anything you had imagined, the reality of him overwhelming your every sense.

Lost in a haze of lust, it took you a moment to realize that Fukuzawa had suddenly stilled. His lips broke away from yours and he drew back slightly, his breath coming harsh and fast. Confusion cut through the fog of your arousal as he grasped your shoulders and gently but firmly set you away from him.

"We can't do this," he said, his voice strained. Even in the darkness, you could see the conflict etched on his face. "It's not right."

"What?" you managed, your kiss-bruised lips still tingling, your body thrumming with need. "But I thought-"

"This is a mistake," Fukuzawa cut you off, running a hand distractedly through his hair. "I'm your superior. I have a responsibility to maintain professional boundaries. No matter how much I..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter. This ends now, before it goes any further."

You felt like he'd doused you in ice water, shock and hurt warring within you. You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Your throat felt tight, your eyes stinging with the sudden threat of tears.

Fukuzawa exhaled heavily, his expression pained. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have let it get this far. It won't happen again."

And with that, he turned and strode away, leaving you alone in the dark hallway, your lips still swollen from his kisses, your heart in shreds at your feet. You hugged your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling chilled despite the muggy heat.

The storm raged on outside, rain lashing against the windows, wind rattling the panes. But it was nothing compared to the tempest inside you - a maelstrom of frustration, rejection, and an ache so sharp it stole your breath.

How were you supposed to face him after this, knowing how good it could be between you, only to have it snatched away? How could you just forget the searing press of his mouth, the urgency of his touch?

Somehow, you'd have to find a way to lock down your treacherous heart, to bury your desire so deep that even you couldn't feel it anymore. The alternative - pining for a man you couldn't have, burning for his forbidden touch - was unthinkable.

But as you finally turned to leave, your legs unsteady beneath you, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. That the undeniable pull between you and Fukuzawa was too powerful to be extinguished by duty or propriety.

One way or another, you knew you'd end up back in his arms. It was only a matter of time.

In the days following your heated encounter with Fukuzawa in the darkened office, you couldn't stop thinking about the electrifying feel of his lips on yours, the urgent press of his body against your own. The memory seared through you at the most inopportune moments, leaving you aching and distracted.

Though a part of you knew you should heed Fukuzawa's words and maintain a professional distance, you found yourself incapable of letting go. If anything, his rejection only fanned the flames of your desire, your need to prove yourself irresistible. You became utterly determined to shatter his iron self-control.

You began putting extra effort into your appearance each morning, choosing outfits that clung to your curves, leaving tantalizing slices of skin bare. You made sure to bend over just so when placing documents on his desk, relishing the way his eyes would follow the lines of your body before he caught himself.

In meetings, you started openly staring at him, your gaze heated and unwavering. You'd trace your lower lip with the tip of your pen, gratified to see his eyes dart to your mouth, his fingers tightening imperceptibly on his pen. Under the guise of friendly touches, you'd graze your fingers along his arm or shoulder, feeling the way he'd tense at the contact.

But you didn't limit your newfound boldness to Fukuzawa. You dialed your flirtations up with all the men in the office. You'd perch on the edge of their desks, crossing your legs so your skirt rode up just a little too high. You'd casually touch their hands or face while laughing at their jokes, tossing your hair over your shoulder coquettishly.

All the while, you could feel the weight of Fukuzawa's stare boring into you, his jaw clenched, his eyes darkening with a potent mix of disapproval and barely suppressed jealousy. You reveled in his attention, positive reinforcement for your provocative behavior.

Late one night, as you were once again working overtime, you decided to up the ante. Slipping out of your heels, you padded silently to Fukuzawa's office, easing the door open without knocking. He glanced up sharply from his paperwork, his eyes widening when he saw you leaning against the door frame.

You smiled, slow and feline, stalking towards Fukuzawa's desk with deliberate sways of your hips. Each step seemed to echo in the charged silence of the dimly lit office. The air felt thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken desire and anticipation. You could feel Fukuzawa's gaze on you, tracking your every movement with an intensity that made your skin prickle with heat.

As you reached his desk, you placed your palms flat on the polished wood, leaning forward slightly. The action caused your blouse to gape open just a little, offering a tantalizing glimpse of your cleavage. You heard Fukuzawa's sharp intake of breath, saw his eyes flicker down for the briefest of moments before he wrenched them back up to your face.

"What are you doing here so late?" he asked, his voice carefully controlled.

"I thought you could use some company," you purred, your voice low and sultry. "And I had a few...questions about the case."

Fukuzawa's jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. His hands, resting on the desk, curled into fists as if he was physically restraining himself from reaching for you. "It's late," he said, his tone carefully measured, but you could hear the undercurrent of strain beneath the words. "Any questions can wait until morning."

Undeterred by his dismissal, you circled around the desk, trailing your fingertips along the smooth surface. Fukuzawa watched you warily, his body tense, coiled like a spring ready to snap. When you reached his side, you perched yourself on the edge of the desk, crossing your legs slowly, deliberately. The hem of your skirt rode up, revealing a tantalizing expanse of thigh, the lacy edge of your stockings just peeking out.

Fukuzawa's gaze followed the movement, his eyes darkening with barely suppressed hunger. His hands clenched on the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking under the force of his grip. You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the air between your bodies crackling with electricity.

Emboldened by his reaction, you leaned in closer, placing your hand on his thigh. His muscles tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching almost imperceptibly. "But I want your input now, boss," you breathed, your lips just inches from his ear. "I'm sure we can find a way to...stimulate some insights."

For a long, suspended moment, neither of you moved. The only sound was the ragged tempo of your breathing, the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears. Fukuzawa seemed frozen, torn between the compulsion to maintain his professionalism and the undeniable pull of his desire. You could see the conflicting emotions warring in his eyes, the desperate struggle for control.

Then, in a sudden flurry of movement, Fukuzawa surged to his feet. His chair clattered backwards, forgotten, as he gripped you by the upper arms, hauling you up with him. Before you could even gasp, he had spun you around, pressing you up against the wall with the solid heat of his body.

Your breath left you in a rush as your back hit the hard surface, your chest heaving against his. Fukuzawa's hands slid down to your wrists, pinning them beside your head as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His eyes were wild, almost black in the low light, boring into you with an intensity that made you tremble.

"You just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" he rasped, his voice rough and gravelly with barely leashed hunger. "You're determined to drive me to madness."

Your lips parted, a retort on the tip of your tongue, but it dissolved into a soft moan as Fukuzawa ducked his head, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck. A shudder rippled through you at the contact, heat pooling low in your belly. You arched into him instinctively, craving more, desperate for the feel of his hands, his lips on your body.

"I only want to drive you to honesty," you managed to gasp out, your fingers threading through his silver hair, holding him to you. "Admit it - you want me as badly as I want you."

Fukuzawa groaned against your throat, the sound vibrating through you like a tuning fork. His grip on your wrists tightened reflexively as he fought for control, his breath coming in harsh pants against your skin. "We shouldn't," he ground out, even as his hips pressed more insistently into yours, betraying the depth of his need. "It's wrong. But..."

You writhed against him, desperate for more friction, more contact. "But what?" you prompted breathlessly, already knowing the answer but needing to hear him say it.

Fukuzawa raised his head, his eyes locking with yours. In their depths, you saw the last vestiges of his resistance crumble, the iron bands of his control shattering like spun glass. When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, weighted with promise and dark, delicious threat.

"But...I can no longer stand by while you openly flaunt yourself at every available man in this office," he growled, his gaze dropping hungrily to your parted lips as if he was resisting the urge to claim them with his own. "No more games, no more teasing. You're mine, and I intend to make sure you never forget it."

You felt a delicious shiver rush through you at his tone - was this the unraveling you had been hoping to provoke? Boldly holding his smoldering stare, you replied, "Is that so? And what’re you going to do to me...Sir?"

A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw as he seemed to wrestle with his self-restraint. Then, quicker than you could react, his hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back roughly.

"This..." he growled an instant before crushing his mouth against yours in a searing, hungry kiss.

You gasped at the ferocity of his passion, all the built-up tension he had been holding back now pouring into his ardent caresses. Your hands clutched at the front of his kimono as you met his fervor with your own desperate want.

Your fingers fumbled with the fabric as your mouth hungrily moved against his. He groaned into the searing kiss, the vibration sending sparks of need coursing through your veins. You managed to part the fabric enough to rake your nails over his toned chest, relishing in the way his muscles twitched at your touch.

Fukuzawa broke away with a ragged breath, his forehead pressed against yours as he gazed at you with molten eyes. "You've tormented me for far too long with your wanton behavior," he murmured, his voice strained with restrained desire. "Did you think I was blind to the way you paraded about, taunting me?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but any retort was swallowed by another kiss. This time he didn't hold back, pinning you firmly against the wall as one calloused hand boldly skimmed over the curve of your hip and thigh, squeezing your ass. You shuddered and arched shamelessly into his touch, silently pleading for him to continue his intoxicating exploration.

He trailed scorching open-mouth kisses along the column of your neck, his hot breath fanning over your sensitized skin. "Perhaps now you'll learn there are consequences for playing with fire," Fukuzawa rasped, his husky tone and the roll of his hips against yours making you dizzy with longing.

With your pussy throbbing and breath coming in shallow pants, you sought purchase by clutching at the broad planes of his back. All this time you had been determined to make this unshakable man crack - but now that he had, you were overwhelmed by the force of his smoldering passion. You wanted to drown in it, consequences be damned.

Fukuzawa's normally immaculate appearance was in delicious disarray - his kimono hanging open, hair tousled from your roaming hands. He pinned you with a look that made your insides liquify as his large, calloused hands skimmed over the bare skin of your thighs and lower back.

"Look at the temptress now," he rumbled, his voice husky and laced with want. "So responsive to my touch after batting those pretty lashes at every other man here."

You opened your mouth to respond, but only a breathy whimper escaped as Fukuzawa rolled his hips firmly against yours, allowing you to feel the undeniable hardness of his cock. Heat lanced through your cunt at the delicious friction.

"I should have acted on this long ago," he murmured against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Shown you exactly where your teasing leads..."

His words had you trembling with heady anticipation. You fisted your hands in his kimono, tugging him even closer as your pulse thundered in your ears. "Then show me," you managed to rasp, throwing caution to the wind.

Fukuzawa's intense gaze searched yours for a molten moment before he captured your lips in another searing, demanding kiss. His large hands cradled you almost reverently as he walked you backwards towards the sofa, your sense of surroundings fading until there was only the roaring need between your entwined bodies.

With a resolute tug, your clothing began to peel away, his fiery caresses branding your bare skin as you finally surrendered to the lust that had been simmering for far too long. The air was thick and heavy with the weight of your desire, the office silent save for the mingled sounds of your heated breaths and moans.

The sofa bumped against the back of your legs and you tumbled onto it, gazing up at the imposing man towering over you. Even in this compromising position, Fukuzawa radiated authority, his gaze dark and intent as he drank in the sight of your naked, sprawled form.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he rasped, the slight tremor in his voice betraying his barely leashed control.

You could hardly breathe, your heart pounding as his burning gaze devoured every inch of your exposed flesh. He knelt between your legs and you could only watch, entranced, as his rough hands skimmed slowly over your trembling thighs.

"Such a tempting little vixen, teasing her superior," he continued, his voice low and gravelly. "And now she's finally within reach."

He parted your legs further, his thumbs tracing torturous circles on the tender skin of your inner thighs. "I'm going to show you exactly what happens to girls who flaunt themselves."

You shivered as his breath ghosted over your damp folds. The anticipation was torture, the aching need between your legs throbbing with each passing moment. He continued to torture you, peppering kisses all across the taut skin of your inner thighs.

Then, just when you thought you couldn't stand it anymore, Fukuzawa's tongue dragged along your slit. You arched into him with a startled moan, his large hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place. His tongue delved deeper, slipping right between your soaked folds.

"Oh God," you whimpered, fisting your hands in his silver hair as pleasure coiled within you, winding tighter and tighter.

"That's right," he rumbled against your slick pussy lips. "I want to hear every sound you make."

His words were punctuated by the firm press of his tongue against your clit, sending a bolt of electricity arcing through you. Your head fell back against the sofa, a cry of pleasure escaping as he licked and sucked at the swollen bud.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, the pleasure so intense it was almost overwhelming. You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, every muscle coiling tight, desperate for release.

Then, just as you were about to cum, Fukuzawa pulled away. You whined in protest, the loss of his hot mouth on your dripping pussy nearly painful.

"Not yet," he said, his voice thick and hoarse with arousal. "I'm not finished with you yet."

With a strength that sent another surge of heat to your core, he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand pushing the small of your back to arch your ass into the air. Your breath caught as you felt him kneeling behind you, his thick length pressing teasingly against your folds.

"You have no idea how many nights l've imagined doing this to you," Fukuzawa growled, the head of his cock sliding slowly up and down your soaked pussy. "How many times l've had to stop myself from bending you over my desk and fucking you senseless."

You moaned and wriggled against him, desperate for him to fill you. "Please, Yukichi," you gasped, his name slipping past your lips without thinking.

At the sound of his name, he grinned widely, one hand coming up to swiftly slap your rear. "You will address me as 'sir'."

Another, harder, smack had you whimpering, the stinging sensation reverberating through your core. "Yes, Sir," you breathed, fingers baring a white-knuckled grip on the couch cushions.

He teased your folds with his cock, his hand kneading your reddened flesh. "Good girl," he murmured, watching the mushroom head of his cock disappear between your puffy lips.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, he gripped his thick length and guided it to your slick entrance. You moaned as the tip slid into your cunt, your walls stretching deliciously around his girth.

"God, you're tight," he groaned, slowly easing himself deeper.

You gasped as he bottomed out, his hips flush against yours. The feeling of being so full, so stretched, was exquisite. You pushed back against him, wanting more.

With a deep groan, Fukuzawa began moving inside you, his thrusts slow and deep. He built a steady rhythm, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounded into you.

The sound of his skin slapping against yours was obscene, echoing in the quiet office. Pleasure coiled tighter within you, the tension ratcheting higher and higher with each thrust.

You could hear him grunting with exertion, the soft, guttural sounds of his pleasure driving you wild. The heat, the fullness, the overwhelming sensation of being fucked by the man who had consumed your every waking thought for months was almost too much to bear.

"Sir. Yukichi…fuck!" You gasped, your words dissolving into incoherence as his cock rubbed against that sweet spot deep inside you.

He grunted, his thrusts growing faster, more erratic. "Say my name again," he growled, his voice strained.

"Yukichi," you moaned, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

At the sound of his name, he groaned, his cock throbbing within you. He pounded into you harder, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully.

You could feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the wave of pleasure cresting inside you.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, his thumb found your clit, circling and rubbing the swollen nub.

That was all it took. You came with a wail, your walls clamping down on his thick cock. Your vision whited out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you, rippling through your entire body.

As you trembled through the aftershocks, Fukuzawa continued to fuck you, his pace erratic, his breathing ragged. He groaned as his cock pulsed within you, spilling his hot release.

He paused for a moment, his weight holding you down before he slowly pulled his hips back, letting his softening cock slip out of your cunt. He hissed softly as he watched his seed slowly seep out of you, unable to resist the urge to use his fingers to push it back where it belonged.

The room was filled with the sound of your labored breathing, the air heavy with the scent of cum and sweat.

You were spent, your body languid and boneless in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Fukuzawa gathered you tenderly into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he settled onto the sofa. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as he held you close.

For a long moment, you simply sat there together, catching your breath, your racing hearts gradually slowing. The silence between you was comfortable, weighted with the significance of what had just transpired.

Eventually, Fukuzawa shifted, pressing a kiss to your temple before murmuring in your ear, "Come home with me."

You pulled back slightly to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure that's wise?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice despite the seriousness of the question.

Fukuzawa's mouth quirked up at the corner, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and determination. "Probably not," he admitted, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder. "But I find myself throwing wisdom to the wind where you're concerned."

You couldn't help but smile at that, a rush of affection and exhilaration coursing through you. This was uncharted territory, a leap into the unknown. But the thought of not taking that leap, of letting this chance slip through your fingers, was unthinkable.

"Well then," you said, your decision made, "lead the way."

Fukuzawa's grin widened, his hand tightening on your hip. "With pleasure."