#fragrance x fiction

[perflorale]

Fragrances I think Sailor Moon would wear….

Moonlight by Ariana Grande

This is Ariana’s least talked about perfume in my opinion, and it’s truly a shame because it’s the best smelling one in this particular line with the bottles that have the puff ball design. Not saying its her best fragrance over all, just my favourite in this line. The only drawback is the longevity isn’t the greatest, you will have to reapply or use some lotion or perfume oil to layer it with that will boost it’s lasting power. The smell of this though, is so worth it even if the lasting power isn’t great. Makes for a great scent to wear to bed, because if you wear it just before bed, how long it lasts doesn’t really matter. But i mean, i feel from the bottle, to the name of it, to the notes, this fragrance is USAGI in a bottle. It has usagi written all over it. The purple iridescence on the bottle gives that very 90s sailor moon pastel colour palette so frequently used as backdrops in the anime. The puff ball on it, is almost representative of a rabbit’s tail or her buns on her hair. It’s called moon light. It smells sweet and she is a huge sweet tooth. Could this be more fitting for her? Anyway, I’ve rambled unnecessarily about the bottle’s design but lets get into the thick of it. The notes. So this smells sweet definitely but not as young as it’s two other counterparts, Ari and Sweet like candy. This one has a more sultry edge. It opens with plum and black currant, which are juicy and delicious. The middle notes are soft marshmallow and peony and i think these notes especially have Usagi written all over them. Very soft and sweet. Marshmallow especially is a note I associate with her very much so there will be one more fragrance with marshmallow in this list as we move forward. The base notes are vanilla, sandalwood and amber which give this a maturity not many of the other fragrances in this line carry. This is delicious smelling but strikes me definitely as a night time fragrance. I think usagi would take a shower before bed, and use the moonlight shower gel and lotion before finally spraying the perfume. (If you’re thinking of getting this fragrance PLEASE get the shower gel, lotion, and body mist too, layering them all will help it last longer.) I can also see her wearing this to an evening date with Mamoru. This fragrance gives dreamy sleepy night time vibes. It’s romantic and elegant. She’s a romantic at heart so i can see her spraying this on any birthday or valentines cards she writes for Mamoru so that he remembers her, and she probably sprays this on her hair brush before passing it through her golden locks so he gets a whiff of it when he hugs her. Its a very pretty perfume that merits a hug for the wearer honestly. You want to hug whoever wears this because its just so lovely. I would wear this at night too. I mean it’s called moonlight. Yeah this is her romantic and cosy night fragrance for sure!

Live Irrésistible Délicieuse by Givenchy

This is her every day, day time scent. The one she wears to school or when she’s hanging out with her friends, when she’s just being Usagi and not Sailor moon. If she were a real person and you met her, I think you would smell this. We all know she’s a huge lover of food, especially anything sweet. This girl is a sweet tooth so it’s no surprise she’d want to smell as delicious as the desserts she eats. She’d want to smell irresistible and this is exactly what this perfume encapsulates. Also the juice in the bottle is pink, and this is her colour. Its a very youthful carefree fragrance and what better match for our teen protagonist. The main player note here is definitely the cherry, it stands out the most but this fragrance has an interesting french pastry note which makes it heavier than the typical fruity perfume. Most fruity perfumes are usually reserved for the summer, but i feel it is one that can be worn year round. The caramel, vanilla and almond at the base give it body. Its rich but not cloying and sure to satisfy a sweet tooth. Sad to report though, that this is discontinued. ( I hear Mukhalat by Montale is a decent dupe for this, but it contains strawberry instead of cherry) I’m pretty sure you can still get it some places online if you’re a lover of cherry and absolutely need this in your collection but I’d grab it quick. (If it’s any consolation, there are plenty of other cherry based perfumes, so missing out on this isn’t the end of the world. I can make a post for cherry perfumes if any of you guys are cherry lovers, just let me know.) Some lotions this would be very well paired with are fruity ones I suggest maybe the body shop butters and lotions? Something in their strawberry or mango ranges. I can see Usagi pairing this with these lotions or a simple vanilla lotion.

Moon carnival by Vilhelm Perfumerie

This is a brighter tropical floral, and the perfect summer time perfume. The white florals give it a delicate yet robust tone, and the citrusses at the top along with that tropical passion fruit note give it a brightness that’s classy yet very fit for hotter weather. This would be perfect for a summer day or a summer night. I have never been to Japan but I know and have heard that the summers can be intense and humid, and seeing as Usagi is from Japan, I think she would be drawn to a fragrance like this during the summer. It’s also appropriately named. I can see her wearing this to a summer festival to compliment her yukata or to the beach or to a picnic. I’ve heard many say this makes for a great wedding perfume. Especially if you are having a spring or summer wedding, something about it is so classy. It has a creamy soft quality thanks to the marshmallow and vanilla notes. Remember I said Usagi would be a sucker for the marshmallow notes? This is her expensive marshmallow perfume, and the Ariana Grande one is her affordable marshmallow perfume. Of course she is a high school student but she is also a princess, so i think it won’t be that far fetched for her to acquire this perfume. Or maybe it was a gift from Mamoru? Who can say? But I feel this is her choice for summer and a possible contender for a wedding fragrance in the future for her.

Luna by Penhaligon’s

Now, we’re at the final boss perfume. This is her princess mode perfume. It’s also on the expensive side but not a ludicrous price range for a fragrance. Plus she’s the princess of the moon, i think she can handle it. Penhaligons has a few fragrances themed around Greek and Roman mythology and since this anime sort of does too, I couldn’t find a more perfect fit. The bottle and scent totally give a dreamy, ethereal, princess serenity vibe and what a perfect fit to wear with that Dior inspired 1992 palladium dress. Can’t you picture her wearing this fragrance and that dress and looking over from her castle balcony? Are you getting the other worldly, dreamy vibes? I certainly am. Anyway, on to the notes: It like many fragrances, greets you with a light and refreshing burst of different citruses, lemon, bergamot and orange, so the opening is cheerful and bright, then we get to the middle notes the delicate rose, juniper berries and jasmine which give it a feminine softness, it’s definitely very refined, something you could see a princess wearing. The base notes are balsam, musk and ambergris which are refreshing, clean and woody. There is definitely something dreamy and magical about this fragrance. It's relaxing and gives a spa or altar vibe, you know? A truly romantic fragrance too, I can see this working as a wedding fragrance if you are going for the ethereal fairytale sort of theme. This is definitely her past life fragrance. Something she would be seen getting teary eyed over because of the memories it evokes for her.

🌸 As always if you want to see more fragrance match ups for characters you love or for yourself, hit me with an ask! 🌸

[rafecameronsslxt]

Pretty

Rafe Cameron x Virgin! Reader

Synopsis: A sweet girl falling for a man like Rafe Cameron leads to nefarious gazes as you and Rafe walk out sweaty and red lipstick covered on his neck.

Warnings: Thigh riding, slight corruption?, Angst at the end.

A/N: Making a part two because why not? Also, the request fan fictions will be out tomorrow.

An hour before your parent's event, your brother was nowhere to be seen. It was the most significant advancement for their company to expand and aggrandize. More or less, Rose asked you to find Rafe, and knowing he was with your brother, you ran in your ruby-red Christian Louboutins if running was concluded to waddling in the Country Club, all eyes, failing to look at their girlfriends and to you instead. Most girls give you dirty looks, their eyes falling on your body. Having everyone stare at you was never intentional, but you also never noticed.

   There they sat in casual clothes, talking with each other. “Nathan, our parents need us to be there. Where is your suit?” You knitted your brows together. “We’re living precariously,” Nathan said with a lively tone as Rafe snorted, receiving amused looks from both of them. You sigh at the childish behavior. You shift on your heels, becoming uncomfortable in the sun's warmth, illuminating the highlighter and Chanel red lipstick. You bite your lower lip, looking at Rafe, who has barely said a word to you as usual.

   Anytime you were around, he’d get quiet, unwilling to look at you. “We’ll go.” Rafe glanced at Nathan, who stood up, leaving you behind to catch up. You were practically just the younger sister in every situation because, as people said, you were entirely sweet and innocent though it was true. 

   You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to the man before you, watching his tanned arms flex almost too perfectly in the grey and black shirt, showing off every vein in his forearm while he adjusted his grey backward hat. You saw Rafe every day. Whether it was at your house or his or during your morning jog, he was always in your line of sight.

   You once asked your parents what they thought about the Cameron boy, and they worded their sentence, carefully trying not to bash him as your parents were good friends of Rose and Ward Cameron, but to say the least, they are not fond of him and wished your brother wouldn’t hang around with such bad influence as Rafe Cameron, so why would you want a man like him? A man who would only break your pure heart.

   We arrived at the house, but you had to get going quickly. You couldn’t help but feel deep sadness as you walked out the door. Did Rafe hate you? You called Kiara to pick you up, hoping she would advise you. You barely had any boy experience, and it shames you because you’re nineteen and dated only one guy just for him to drop you for another girl, but he quickly got put in his place by your brother and Rafe… 

   “Doesn’t even GLANCE AT YOU! You’re drop-dead gorgeous. Who couldn’t like you? But, wait, who is he?” Kiara’s jaw dropped, and she gestured her hands all over. 

    You smile at Kie’s reaction but tauten as you’ve been edging around Rafe’s name. Kiara would freak out if she knew it was Rafe, you fancy. “I don’t- remember his name.” You rub your neck nervously, stuttering over words. “What?” Her lip arches in confusion as she parks her car, and we get out. You avoid the comment. “Ok… Since you don’t want to reveal the mystery man, I must find my parents.” She pulls you in for a short-lived hug and disappears into the crowd, leaving you alone. 

   You go to the front, lifting the red floral summer dress in hopes you won't fall as your parents start their speech, causing everyone to go quiet. They talk about how grateful and happy they are to make it where they are, but a fragrance envelops you, cedar and Caledonian sandalwood, and to your knowledge of cologne, it's from Chanel, and the scent entices you to turn your head only to be met by a pristine Rafe. His towering body glances down at you, feeling flustered. You avert your eyes back at your overjoyed parents. 

   Once they announce who they're partnering with, the mass breaks out into a cheer, and you clap, smiling, proud of your parents, and everyone begins to split into groups again. Your bones feel strained, and butterflies appear in your stomach, only for you to stumble backwards, landing in Rafe’s arms, then moving to hold your waist. “I’m so sorry- I’ve been really uncoordinated today.” You give him a thin smile, but the smile fades, deterring you from thinking optimistically about his reaction and the atmosphere surrounding you and Rafe. It wasn’t anger or enmity, but it felt tense and something else you couldn’t place as he leaned down to your ear, his breath light. “I’m going to ruin you, pretty girl.” Your body stiffens as he places a feathery kiss on your red lips, yet a bright red stain marks his. Rafe smirks at your cherry face, but his blue eyes are a dark sea, and his jaw sharpens. 

   Rather than leaving, he intertwines his hand with yours, taking you to an extensive vacant room crammed with spare decorations and chairs. You don’t realize you're holding your breath until Rafe brings you onto his thigh. Your heart is palpitating, and butterflies have become aching for him. The room is cold, making you shudder. Rafe’s gaze is piercing as you try to get comfortable, but wiggling around on his thigh is futile and instead stirs a quiet moan from you. 

   You feel embarrassed. “You know how pretty you look like this? You know how long I’ve wanted you?” His low voice mumbles into your lips, and he places his large hands on your waist, pulling you farther up his thigh. You relax into his soothing touch, but the nervousness doesn’t leave. You’ve never had sex or have done this before; Rafe guides your hips back and forth, creating friction between his thigh and your clothed clit. You whimper against his lips as you start to move into the rhythm of his hands. 

   You feel selfish for letting him do all the work, so you bring your hand to his tangible erection and start palming him through his dress pants. His size makes your eyes widen, Rafe was a big guy, but his length was impressive. “Fuck- you don’t have to do that, pretty girl,” Rafe grunts out while your movements against his thigh become swifter. “I want to.” You moan into the sickening sweet yet dirty kiss as he slips his tongue into your mouth, greedily accepting it. You gasp, pressing your body harder into his thigh but keeping your languid pace on his cock. Your legs feel weaker as pressure builds up in your stomach, and the throbbing initiates burning in your lower abdomen. “Rafe-” You wrap an arm around his neck, and your face is hidden in the nape, mouth open and pressing your plump lips to his Adam's apple. His hands grip your waist indefinitely to leave a red imprint. 

   “My good, pretty girl. Only for me, hmm?” He rasps out through grunts. You nod; words would be incomprehensible in the condition you are in. Edging release until the pure gravelly voice of Rafe pushes you over the boundary, officially connecting yourself with the Cameron man in more ways than you ever thought would happen. You are spasming around nothing; adrenaline is still coursing through the white splotches as you pant. Despite Rafe not receiving much, he has a dazed look in his eye, and you lay your forehead on his. But you see hesitation cover his relaxed complexion. 

   What are we? The question is a broken record in your head. You didn’t want a hookup with Rafe. You trust he won’t take advantage of you, but you hold him to higher standards. Rafe would never do that to you. Yet, Rafe must see your wheels turning because he reassures you. “I like you, pretty girl.” His thumb hovers over your lips, outlining them until you recognize the red lipstick gleaming on his neck, lips, and cheeks. Your jaw drops. Your widened eyes look to Rafe’s calmed ones. You put your hand under his jaw, lift his head, and take a picture of all the marks to show him, to which he shrugs. “Your lipstick is smeared too, pretty girl. There’s no bathroom, so we’ll just have to go out.” You wobbly stand up from his thigh and timidly raise a brow at the noticeable strain in his black dress pants. 

   He stands up, unzipping his pants. “Rafe-” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he brings down a hand and starts rearranging, tucking his hard-on under the waistband of his boxers. “Let’s go, pretty girl,” Rafe says carelessly, slinging his arm around your shoulder, not wasting time on your answer or pleas. 

   It’d be an understatement to say all eyes were on you. Everyone criticizes you with sharp eyes, and you decide you are lucky you aren’t under eighteen because your parent's face drops, livid at the sight of Rafe’s neck and your puffy lips. Kiara is stunned, and your protective brother begins to walk you out, with Rafe following. “I can take her home, man.” Nathan is coldly stern as Rafe leans down to kiss you softly and wave him off. You take off the ruby-red pumps, placing them on the floor of Nathan’s truck.

   “Why Rafe? Rafe Cameron, of all people, you had to get involved with him. What changed in the last hours to have you walking out like that!? Do you realize how pissed Mom will be? Jesus, did you guys seriously have sex? You berated me for barely making it, but you could barely stay and got my friend's dick wet instead.” 

   “We didn’t have sex! You can sleep with fifty girls, but I get with Rafe, which becomes a problem. What the fuck, Nate!” You’re not one to scream, but the circumstances quickly overwhelm you. A disgusted look holds on your face, not at Nathan but yourself. You throw your hands into the air, pinching the bridge of your nose, tears threatening to fall because of how embarrassed you’ve become of the situation, not weighing the consequences or reactions.

   The orange sky had slipped away to a dark starry night, and few cars were on the road. The rest of the drive had been eerily silent until Nathan pulled into the driveway, and we finally reached the front door. 

   “Rafe is not a good guy. We know this. You. Know. This. But if you like him as your brother and friend, I support you, and I’m sorry for being a dick.” You can’t explain how much you love your brother for comforting you and being open to your relationship with Rafe. Nate tightly wraps his arms around your waist as if he is losing a piece of you, but he is open-minded to the new chapter that will begin in your life, with or without the people around you. 

[sanjis-moulinrouge]

Sapphire

Sanji x f!reader | +18 | Smut

Summary: Sanji and Reader don't waste time when they are all alone at the Going Merry.

a/n: I tried to keep the romantic vibes <3 Also, I got inspired by a song called Sapphire, so… that’s the primary source for this fiction. Hope you enjoy and comments are welcome.

English is not my first language, so my apologies if something sounds unnatural.

Moonlight bathing him, turning his back to the satellite, the outline of his figure hypnotizes you. His golden hair shines with grace and his sparkling eyes are fixed on you, you can't escape from the intense desire they emanate. Kneeling on the floor with the chin held on the surface of the bed, he is contemplating your entire self while your body is comfortably lying on bed facing up the moon. In his hand, a cigarette. The chef is so enthralled by you that the smoke is leaking through the window.

The sky is starry, the silence is broken at times by the waves. 

“We're all alone… together here dear” he whispers “completely alone… finally.” 

The fragrance of love in the room got you already craving for him. Sanji never gets tired of romance, you both enjoy the preamble and can be in that game for hours. 

Once the cigarette is out, he begins to crawl into bed, the prince of the night making the first moves. The atmosphere provided by the moonlight highlights parts of his body, his rolled-up shirt makes the veins in his arms stand out as he gets closer.

Gently he uncovers your legs and begins to caress them as if they were the most sacred thing before his eyes. 

“My queen,” he purrs as he slides his fingers in your thighs. The tension grows.

“I've waited for time alone for weeks. I think I'll die,” he confesses, frowning as he takes a long sigh.

He spreads his long legs to sit on top of you, placing your legs between his. Sliding both hands along your legs, massaging your calves and thighs, he squeezes them cautiously. His splendid hands made you feel a fervent need to place his fingers on your spot, but you wanted this moment to endure a bit longer.

“A-ah Sanji” you gasp “more, please.” As he pays attention to your call he smiles effusively.

His hands move to your lower stomach and pubis in circular motions. He loves to feel you getting ready, moistened.

He went slowly because he didn’t want to take your panties and shirt off yet. He wanted to touch your body first, every inch of it. That was a huge turn on for him, watching your body burst with desire. 

As you moan, he blushes and his shirt starts to get damp. His hands go up to hold your breasts, as he strokes them your pulse speeds up. “Oh darling, please” you beg. 

“You seem to be in a hurry, sweetheart,” he replies. “Let me… taste those curves with my hands first, precious.”

You could feel how hard he was and your eagerness to caress his crotch was tantalizing.

“Oh, honey” he groans while noticing your excitement.

He gets closer to give you soft kisses, first on your forehead and nose until finally your lips meet. “The night is young, you have to be patient. Remember who’s the one dying for this?”

You couldn’t contain a giggle… “We’re both craving for this, sweet prince.” 

For Sanji it's still hard to believe how you desire him. He is always worshiping you, day and night, no matter the context. But when you expose your yearning with your body language and words, it is the end for him. Acknowledging that the devotion is mutual is like bringing heaven down to earth.

“Ma chérie,” his trembling voice exposed his hunger. Unable to contain himself anymore, he sinks his face into your neck, slightly biting your earlobe, tracing a path with kisses to your shoulder.

As you weave your lips together, you unbutton his shirt and brush his chest softly. Undressing him while watching his muscles contract always makes you go mad.

“Touch me, please” he whines, pulling aside his pants alongside his boxers.

You have the most privileged view, now he moves his body closer, your hips are between his legs, having full access to his erection. Stroking his solid thighs, you bring your hands closer to his member, rubbing his head.

Sanji took his time to observe your motions for a while, your hands move delicately as the pace starts to accelerate, it is an exquisite torture. Breathless and feverish, he holds your hands to speed up the rhythm, he convulses and moans, before he could reach his climax, you set him free, releasing small precum drops.

“We are not done yet, my love,” you murmur.

Moving aside, he doesn’t give you time to take control of the situation, throwing himself next to you, he starts to tap your spot passionately. “You're so wet, y/n,” he utters fondly in your ear.

Removing your panties, his fingers move between the damp lips of your pussy, rubbing your swollen clit. As he plays with the pace, you feel his hard cock pressed near your hips. You love when he spoons you, so you push and squeeze his waist towards you. The circular motions on your clit make your back arch and whine, he adores to observe your reactions, shockwaves down your spine, your body bursts into an orgasm.

“Let me get inside,” his fingers move to your entrance, putting them slowly inside you until he comfortably reaches your sweet spot. Your body was still shaking with the first orgasm. “A-ah,” you grunt. Raising his fingers, thrusting them up, you start feeling his fingertips rubbing inside and staying consistent.

“Please…” you whisper. “Please go faster.” Sanji’s pulse quickens. His fingers go faster than before and you moan while breathing heavily. Sounds echo in the room, and now the extreme thrusts and sounds of your luscious insides bring on another orgasm quickly.

“Oh my…” you say as your body releases its tension. Sanji could feel the heat and moisture coming off from your spot as he pulled out his fingers slowly.

Your body pulses, going numb with pleasure as tiny moans escape your vocal cords, he hold them back as if they are the most precious sound.

“Are you ok, y/n.” he asks. You look for his face quickly to capture his lips, biting and sucking them, flicking your tongues against each other, groaning. Your bodies tangle, seeking and stealing all the desire.

In a frantic impulse, you switch position, sitting on his lap. “My love, let me watch you move on me…” he gasps. You wanted to give him back all the love and pleasure he previously offered you. 

Looking down at him with a lustful stare, you start to adjust yourself into his erection. As he gets fully into yourself, you start to ride him at a slow pace. His hands grip your hips, the warmth inside your walls gives you goosebumps.

“Shit”, Sanji babbles as you bounce continuously. “My love” you cry when he grips even harder and sinks you down on his cock again and again. 

Holding hands, you start to swing faster, creating an electric friction. “So good, y/n” he mumbles. Scattering sweat, sparkling, you lean down to kiss him, your tongues clash. 

“A-ah” wrapping his hands around your waist, moaning loudly, you feel his orgasm forming.

Piercing himself deeply into you, making the last motions, you climax together. 

Ecstatic, you kiss and taste each other as you find a comfortable place next to him. 

Resting your head on the pillow and facing his lovely profile, you see him trying to catch his breath.

“You make my heart go crazy… I feel so alive, dear” his sapphire eyes gleamed with the moonlight while raising his neck slightly to meet your gaze, pouring his exhausted body onto you, he embraces you to warmly say good night.

[morallyinept]

Homage - A Javi Gutierrez x Blind F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: A collision in a coffee shop with an enigmatic man sparks an exhilarating romantic encounter.

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x Blind F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity, Reader does have hair. Reader is completely blind. Reader speaks & understands Spanish.)

Word Count: 6.7k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & Warnings: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral F receiving/fingering/lots of kisses/Reader is completely blind and uses a cane and guide dog/I've tried to write this story without describing Javi's expressions etc... because Reader would not see them, but there is a little bit of Javi POV/Javi falls hard for you/lots of slushy, soft romance/mentions of Nicholas Cage

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The condition/disability mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the bustling coffee shop, the air is filled with familiar, enticing aromas that dance on your senses. 

The rich, earthy scent of freshly ground coffee beans mingle with the sweet scents of caramelised sugar, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere around you.

Notes of toasted bread and buttery croissants waft from the bakery counter, tempting patrons with their comforting fragrance. Amidst the sweet haze, hints of cinnamon and nutmeg linger, adding a touch of spice to the air. 

You can hear the air humming with a melodic symphony of sounds, creating a vibrant backdrop for conversation and camaraderie that surrounds you. The rhythmic whirring of coffee machines echo throughout the space, accompanied by the gentle chinking of cups and saucers as baristas expertly craft each beverage with care. 

Amidst the chatter of patrons and the occasional burst of laughter, the soothing melodies of soft music plays in the background, adding to the ambiance.

It’s a song you know and you hum along to it as you patiently wait your turn. 

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, the sounds of steaming milk and frothing foam mingling with the hiss of espresso machines, envelops you in a comforting and familiar embrace. It’s a weekly treat coming here after a busy week of work. 

You feel Nicolas’ tail pad against your leg and you reach to pat his head, scritching behind his ear that you know he loves. 

“Almost there, Nicolas.” You reassure your canine friend, who is also your trusty pair of eyes.

You clutch onto your cane and wait patiently in the line pondering in your mind what takes your fancy today.

Nicolas guides you through the bustling queue of the quaint coffee shop until you’re at the front and place your order with Juan, who greets you personally and asks how you are. You always like the sound of his voice, he always sounds so peppy.

As you patiently wait for your coffee to be made, recognizing the familiar voices and chatter of the other baristas, a sudden collision startles you.

"Dios, mio! I am so sorry!" (Oh God!) A male voice exclaims, laden thick with embarrassment.

You chuckle softly, your fingers searching for your cane that's no longer in your grip, but the band around your wrist guides you to it dangling within reach.

“No harm done,” you say with a warm smile. Collisions happen on the regular in your world. 

But the man continues to ramble. “I am so blind, I should look where I am going. ¡Ay no, mi camisa. Está arruinada. Probablemente el café no salga con el lavado, and... Oh, shit.’ (Oh no, my shirt. It is ruined. The coffee probably won’t wash out.)

The man's tone shifts, realising his mistake. "Oh. I didn't mean to... I-I didn't realise you can’t… Oh, and now I feel terrible for making such a ridiculous comment about my ridiculous shirt."

“I'm sure your shirt is okay.”

“No, it really is ridiculous, even without the coffee stain.” He chuckles. “Are you okay, you didn't get splashed with hot coffee, did you?”

You smile into the direction of his worrisome sing-song voice. “No, I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I…” You hear him sigh “if you could see what I look like now, it would make you really laugh.”

You smile, your curiosity piqued by the nervous energy radiating from him. "Well, you certainly sound cute when you're flustered." 

You hear him fumbling for words. "Thank you... I-I... oh, wow." 

“Let me buy you a new coffee.” You offer. 

“Oh no, let me buy you one. I bumped into you, it is the least I can do for my clumsiness. Please, I insist.”

You accept graciously. “Thank you, that’s kind.”

“Not at all. What would you like?”

The man orders your coffee with Juan, and his again, and introduces himself whilst you both wait.

“I am Javi.” His Spanish accent colours his words.

You reach out for his hand and it’s soon filled with a soft, emanating warmth. His hand feels big and his grip gentle. You tell him your name in return amd he sighs enthusiastically.

“And who is this handsome fellow?”

“This is Nicolas.” You say, stoking behind the canine’s ear.

"Oh, I love your dog's name! Did you name him after Nicholas Cage?"

“No.”

“Oh, I love Mr Cage. I am a big fan.”

“Me too.”

Javi chuckles nervously, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment, not that you can see it, but you can sense it in his smile and the way he titters nervously. You've conjured up an image in your mind of him wringing his hands eccentrically, and it makes you smile.

“Uh, would you like to sit and drink your coffee with me?” He asks. 

Your face lights up with a smile as you nod in agreement. "That sounds lovely, Javi," your voice tinged with excitement. “Lead the way.”

“Would you like to take my arm? My hands are full of coffee cups.”

“I can follow your voice if the route is clear, and Nicolas can do the rest.” You explain with a smile. 

“Okay, great… Shit,” you hear him mutter followed by the sound of something scraping against the floor. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I just… Uh, the chair. I did not see it. I promise I'm usually more coordinated," he replies sheepishly.

Your laughter rings out melodiously. "Oh, I'm sure you are. It's just my luck to encounter the exception," you tease, following the gentle pull from Nicolas carefully.

Javi grins, relieved by your lighthearted demeanour. "Consider it a unique skill of mine, I was hit by a car once." He quips, his accent adding charm to his words.

“Gosh, that sounds awful!”

“I was fine. We are here, right in front of you. Can I help?”

"I got it." You reach out for the table edge as your fingers glide across it and you slide into the chair. "You're quite the character, Javi," you remark, taking a sip of your coffee.

Javi chuckles nervously. "I guess I am. But you know what they say, it takes one to know one," he replies with a mischievous sound in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, feigning offence. "Are you insinuating that I'm clumsy too?" You tease, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

“Of course not! You're the epitome of grace and elegance," he replies with exaggerated sincerity, earning another giggle from you.

“Well, you're wrong, I fall over a lot, mostly over this.” You say, tapping your cane against the table. “Nicolas keeps me upright most of the time.”

“Then he is doing a very good job.”

As you drink your coffee, Javi can't contain his excitement as he begins to recount his favourite Nicholas Cage films.

"You know, Nicholas Cage is a cinematic legend. Have you ever watched Con Air?" Javi asks eagerly. 

You smile, shaking your head. "I haven't. Tell me about it."

Javi rambles with enthusiasm as he dives into an animated description of the action-packed film.

"It's a rollercoaster of adrenaline! Picture Nicholas Cage as Cameron Poe, a former Army Ranger who finds himself on a prison transport plane filled with the worst criminals imaginable."

You listen intently, captivated by Javi’s passion for the movie. "Wow, that sounds intense."

Javi murmurs in agreement around a slurpy sip of his coffee enthusiastically.

"Absolutely! He can seamlessly transition from action-packed roles to more nuanced characters. Take Leaving Las Vegas, for example. It's a poignant drama where he plays a suicidal alcoholic. His performance is truly mesmerising."

“Have you ever met him? You sound like quite the fan.”

“Yes. He came to my birthday party last year. I turned forty.” 

“Really? That’s amazing!”

"Yes, it was. We had a good time together. I just realised... I've been talking about these movies as if you've seen them, but..." Javi's voice trails off, his worry palpable. He hesitates, unsure of how to proceed. "I... I didn't consider that you might not be able to see the films," he admits, sheepishly. "I'm sorry if I made assumptions."

You smile warmly, reaching out to gently squeeze Javi's hand and find his wrist instead.

"It's okay, Javi. I appreciate your honesty. I may not be able to watch them in the traditional sense, but I can still listen to them. Audio descriptions allow me to enjoy the stories, just like everyone else. And, I absolutely love movies."

Javi’s sighs with relief, his worry dissipating as he breathes out. "That's fantastic! I'm so glad to hear that," he exclaims, his enthusiasm returning.

"Yes, it's pretty cool how technology has made entertainment more accessible for people like me. So, feel free to keep sharing your favourite movies with me, okay?"

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“How am I blind?” You pre-empt.

“Yes. But only if you are comfortable in telling me.”

“I had Meningitis when I was a child. It attacked my optic nerves and I lost my sight.” You simply say.

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it could’ve been much worse. I’ve adapted and I have a really good life. Nicolas gives me a lot of independence.”

“Were you very young?” Javi asks. 

“Yes, I could see and I remember things. I remember what my parents looked like, and the sun. I loved watching the sun set. I think that is what I miss the most.”

There is a reflective pause between you before Javi speaks again.

“I think you are very brave, and very beautiful. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be very forward.”

“It’s okay, I quite like it.” You smile, as you drink more of your coffee. 

Your conversation about movies continues, and Javi offers a pastry and more coffee, to which you accept as you spend a couple of hours together in the coffee shop talking and laughing.

Summoning his courage, he asks you a question with a hopeful tone.

"Would you like to watch a movie... with me?" Javi asks, his voice tinged with excitement.

Your face lights up with surprise and delight. "Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes, I mean… shit. Yes, if you would like to, perhaps this evening? You might have plans and that is okay, but I am enjoying talking to you and would like to get to know you some more.”

“That sounds wonderful, Javi," you reply, your smile growing wider.

Javi beams in response through a giddy chuckle, relieved by your positive response. 

"Great! We can choose a movie that has audio descriptions,” he suggests eagerly. “I have a home cinema, if you feel comfortable coming back to my place?”

“I do. Besides, Nicolas would tell me if you had bad vibes.”

“Animals always know.” Javi agrees. “I like him.” 

You nod enthusiastically. "Nicolas loves movie nights just as much as I do," you say, patting your guide dog affectionately. 

“I have a few errands to run in town first, but if you like, I could pick you up later?”

“I’d like that.” You nod. 

He explains he has a villa on the coast, which is a short drive from town, and you're familiar with most of the landscape except the coastline, so you're touched when he tells you to put his address in your phone and text someone you know for reassurance.

He also gives you his number and is fascinated when he sees you navigating your phone with confidence using a talkback app.

“This is marvellous!” He says as you explain how it works as the little computerised voice talks back to you. “Can I drive you home?” Javi offers after you both finish up your coffee.

“No, that’s okay, I have errands to run too,” you smile. 

Javi holds the door open for you and Nicolas, and outside the fresh air and warmth of the summer feels good on your skin.

“Well, I shall see you later this evening, mi sol.” (My sun)

Smiling, you feel him squeeze your hand affectionately. “I look forward to it, Javi.”

“See you, Nicolas.” He says, and you hear him walk away, leaving you with the biggest smile chiselled on your face.

Using your fingertips, you dab on a slick of lip balm, and spritz a final spray of your favourite perfume, inhaling the delicate notes with a smile, when Nicolas barks softly as a car pulls up. 

Opening the door, you can hear Javi greet you on the other side. 

“Oh, wow…” He says. “It is possible you look even more beautiful than when I saw you earlier today. You are glowing, just like the sun...”

“Thank you, Javi.” You say, feeling your cheeks warm.

You fetch your purse and step out with Nicolas in tow, with your cane looped around your wrist. 

“Would you like to take my arm? My car is parked a little way down the road.” Javi offers, and you smile linking around him, Nicolas padding along on the other side, and your cane out in front. 

You hear him greet passers by in Spanish, in between talking with you, and it warms you that he’s not averse to being seen with you as he pats your hand with his around his muscular arm, and makes a note to warn you when an uneven payment or dip is approaching.

And you can only smile at his rapt attention to you and your surroundings. 

Most strangers you encounter are indifferent or ignorant to the limitations of your world, more often than not getting annoyed at you when they’re the ones who bump into you to begin with. But Javi seemingly embraces the challenge naturally, adapting effortlessly as you walk along and talk animatedly with him, his laughter infectious.

As you walk throughout the world, you rely on your other senses to guide you, and Nicolas or GPS apps on your phone always help. The sounds of traffic and the chatter of pedestrians provide valuable cues about your surroundings, helping you to navigate the busy thoroughfare with confidence.

With each step, your cane will sweep the ground in front of you, detecting obstacles and uneven surfaces. Remembering routes, using auditory cues that took years to move around the town confidently by yourself.

But when you can take someone’s arm, like Javi’s, that load is shared and you can relax a little more into the trust that he’ll lead the way for you safely, without letting you trip and tumble or get lost. 

The car journey is pleasant; he has a convertible and you can feel the warm wind in your hair, and smell the salt from the coast. You both listen to gentle jazz music as he drives and describes the sights to you. 

Inside the villa, he tells you where most things are situated, and you explain to him that it will take time for you to remember a new space. He tells you to let him know if you need the bathroom or anything at all, and he can happily show you the way. 

He leaves you on a comfy, velvety feeling sofa that you sink into, as he fetches a bottle of wine and some glasses. Placing it in your hand, you sip from the cool crispness of the dry Vermentino, as he explains his home movie collection to you.

After deciding on Con Air - purely from Javi’s energetic description of it in the coffee shop - you feel him settle in beside you, a dip in the cushions, as his shoulder brushes against yours. 

You can’t see it, but Javi can't shake off the nervous excitement coursing through him, but you can certainly sense some of that energy as it bleeds into your skin.

With a gentle nudge, he casually drapes his arm around your shoulders, trying to appear cool and composed despite the butterflies in his stomach.

You hear the clicking of his mouth as he smiles when you lean into the comforting warmth of his touch, a contented smile playing on your lips too as the movie begins to play.

You can sense Javi's nerves, but his presence feels reassuring and comforting.

And he smells really good, like fresh mandarin, vetiver and a faint blend of coffee beans. Each inhale of his scent at this close proximity makes your mouth water.  

As the movie plays on, Javi's attempt to be cool is palpable, but his nerves are betraying him. You can't help but notice his subtle fidgeting against you and the way his breath catches every now and then.

With a playful smirk, you whisper teasingly, "nervous, Javi?"

Javi’s stutters, caught off guard by your observation. "Me? Nervous? No way," he replies, attempting to maintain his composure.

Javi tries to focus on the movie, but his mind keeps drifting back to the warmth of your presence beside him. As he steals a glance at you, he catches you smiling softly, lost in the magic of the film's audio descriptions as you listen intently.

“Is this okay?” He asks, and you nod. 

“Yes. It’s perfect.” You say, listening to the audio and the sounds of explosions and gunfire from the screen. 

A little while later into the movie and summoning his courage, Javi leans in a little closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "I hope you're enjoying the movie, mi sol," he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur.

“I am. I can hear that you are.” You say. “I can hear you smiling. I’d love to see it.”

“Shall I tell you what I look like?”

“Actually, I have a way of seeing what you look like.”

“How?”

“May I?” You ask, raising your hands and turning to him. 

Javi's heart skips a beat at your request, but he agrees, his own curiosity piqued. “Yes, of course.”

“Can you guide my hands to your face? I don't want to poke you in the eye,” you giggle. 

Chuckling, he takes them and places your palms onto his cheeks and they feel soft and prickly at the same time.

“You have facial hair,” you smile in wonderment.

“Yes. It is short, how I like it. Too much and I look like a crazy scientist.”

Your fingertips begin to trace the contours of Javi's face, delicately mapping the features you can't physically see. You feel the warmth of his skin, the curve of his cheekbones, and the soft, silken stubble of his jawline beneath your touch.

With each gentle caress, you paint a mental portrait of the man before you, capturing the essence of his presence in your mind's eye. And he's a sight to behold.

Javi holds his breath, feeling a rush of vulnerability and intimacy as you tenderly explore his face. He allows you to touch and feel without reservation.

He watches you as you concentrate and smile, your eyes pulled just over his shoulder as you explore.

As your fingers trace the contours of Javi’s face, you start to comment on what else you can feel. 

"You have a strong jawline," you observe softly. "And your cheeks... they feel warm, like you're smiling."

Javi’s breath catches in his throat at your words, a warmth spreading through him at your gentle touch. "That's because I am," he admits, the smile evident in his voice.

Your fingers continue their exploration, lingering on Javi’s features with a gentle curiosity. "And your nose... it's curved and proud," you remark, your touch light and reverent.

Javier chuckles softly, the sound tinged with affection. "Well, thank you for the compliment, but I have a big nose and a big head," he replies, his heart swelling with gratitude for your openness and acceptance.

You work your hands over his prominent eyebrows and into his hairline, feeling silken curls cascade down either side of his face as you weave them through your fingers like ribbons. 

“What colour is your hair?” You ask.

“Brown, like chocolate.”

“I imagined it to be brown. I like chocolate.” You smile, sweeping your fingers to the centre of his face and your tips skim over a fuzzy, well-groomed moustache and glide across his lips.

They feel plush and full. You feel him breathing against them, warm and a little moist. 

Then you feel him pucker and kiss them gently. He immediately apologises when you drop your hands into your lap.

“I am sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me.” He flusters.

“It’s okay, Javi, really-”

“Are you sure? I-I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“No, I mean, I would've preferred it if you’d kissed my lips instead.” You say, smiling.

“You would?”

“Yes.” You nod. 

“Oh. Then, I can kiss you?”

“Yes.”

You feel him get closer, like a shadow encasing your face, and you feel his own hands cup your cheeks; his breath felt on your lips as he gently presses his mouth to yours. 

You moan into his mouth as he kisses you delicately, lips parting around him as he smooches gently, and you dare yourself to dip your tongue inside to fully taste him.

And it immediately makes him whimper, the sound traversing your spine and into your core - prickles bursting all over your scalp, tingling.

He strokes the skin under your eye with his thumb and you feel him shuffle closer. Your hands feel across the expanse of his shoulders that feel broad and thick, and sweep up his neck into the bundle of small curls at the back of his nape. 

Your body feels like it's fizzing; your mind perfectly silent as you lose yourself in the feel of his kiss.

His tongue gently swirls against yours and you can feel the fuzz of his facial hair tickle against your chin and lip.

His kiss dazzles you, leaving you breathless and wanting.  

“That was really nice,” you say, your breath still tangled in your throat as you part. 

“Really nice.” Javi agrees. “I should stop before I get carried away.”

“Me too.” You chuckle, but you pull him closer for another, lingering kiss, enamoured by the way he tastes and explores your mouth. 

“I would really like to see you again, another date, perhaps some dinner?” Javi asks, he peppers your cheeks with a slew of little kisses. 

“I’d really like that.”

“Perfect,” he smiles. “Oh, let’s rewind the film. We have missed the best part.”

He pulls you gently into his arms as you both settle in to enjoy the remainder of the film, Nicolas laying at both your feet snoozing gently. 

Javi is the perfect gentleman, driving you home after the film, and kissing you again on your doorstep, leaving you to go to bed that night with the biggest smile on your face, so much so that your jaw aches.

Your dates with Javi go well and increase in frequency.

You spend a lot of time with him, his warm hand secured in yours as you go wine tasting together, and he watches you sip at the different fruity wines and comment on which ones you like best. 

He cuddles up with you, watching more films together as you snuggle into his muscular arms and share more heated kisses. 

He takes you back to the coffee shop and buys you breakfast. He dotes on Nicolas and plays with him, whilst you listen to the sound of Nicolas grunting as Javi rubs his belly.

He’s the perfect fit for you with how gracious and attentive he is. He’s always asking questions too, learning eagerly about how you navigate the world; his curiosity welcomed and encouraged as he asks things that surprise you and make you smile at his thoughtfulness.

He finds it all genuinely fascinating and you don’t feel like you’re invisible when you're with him. 

Then comes the day when Javi asks you if you’d like to stay over after proposing to cook dinner for you, and you agree that you’d love to, despite the nerves surfacing.

It’s been a long time since you shared a bed with anyone, and even though the excitement of being in his arms floods through your veins, a little trepidation also surfaces. 

Javi arrives to pick you up at your homey little apartment in town, Nicolas is left with a friend for the evening off, and Javi carries your overnight bag into his convertible. 

He holds your hand and opens the passenger side door for you, letting you sit comfortably. 

You can't ignore the growing sensation blossoming between you both, Javi had been sudden, like the weather. A ray of warm sunshine falling into your lap, quite literally it seems.

With every shared laugh, every gentle touch, you feel that warmth spreading in your chest, igniting a spark that dances in the air whenever you’re together and it emanates and glows brighter each time.

It’s a feeling you can't quite put into words, a subtle yet undeniable connection that tugs at your heartstrings and leaves you breathless at his enigmatic and infectious energy. It’s as if something magical is unfolding between you, a budding romance that defies explanation, but feels undeniably real. 

In Javi's presence, you feel alive in a way you haven't before, as if you’re able to see the world through his eyes. His laughter is music to your ears, his touch sends shivers down your spine. He imbues you with a certain confidence you’ve never possessed before. 

He makes you bold, and daring, as you stand on the precipice of the cliff with him, his hand tightly wound around yours. 

“Are you ready, querida?” Javi asks, as you feel the setting Mallorcan sun streaming on your skin.

“Yes,” you laugh, giddily.

He explains that below the cliff there is the ocean water, and you’ll be safe and far enough away from the rocks. He’ll hold your hand tightly as you both jump. 

“Oh my God, we’re really going to do this!” You squeal as he tells you to step back a few paces with him.

His hands guide your waist as you step backwards and you feel it lingering there and burning, long after he lets go and takes your hand again.

“On three, we run forward together!” 

You can hear the wild excitement in his voice as your heart hammers in your chest, steeling yourself for the exhilarating plunge ahead.

The wind whips around you, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and the distant cry of seagulls on its breezy tendrils.

“Oh fuck!” You tremble with a manic laughter pouring out of you. 

“Ready? Uno. Dos-”

“Javi!” You giggle. feeling a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Tres!” 

He runs with you, hand tight in yours, and yells at you to leap at the exact moment - and you do, feeling yourself fly through the air off the cliff edge as it disappears from under your feet. 

The rush of air engulfs you as you descend, sending you hurtling towards the water below. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still as you plummet through the air, heart pounding as you brace yourself for the eventual impact of diving into the water.

Then, with a splash, you break through the calm ocean; the shock of the cold momentarily taking your breath away. 

As you surface, laughter bubbles up from deep within you, mingling with the sound of gentle waves and Javi’s rambunctious laughter echoing off the rocky cliffs.

“Javi, dios mio! You do this for fun?!” You exclaim as you cough; salty water washing around your mouth. 

“Si, it is exhilarating, no?”

“Oh, can we do it again?” You nod excitedly. “Shit, that was amazing!”

“You crave more!” He chuckles loudly. "You crazy woman! I love it!"

You feel his arms around you in the water, drawing you near as his lips graze over yours. He kisses you as you wrap your legs around his waist to stay buoyant. 

“You’re crazy. ¡Estás completamente loco.” (You’re completely crazy) You say, smiling and still buzzing with him guiding you through the exhilarating adventure, and reminding you that with him by your side, you’re capable of doing anything at all.

“Crazy for you, mi sol.” Javi says, with wet, salty lips pressed against yours. 

Together, you swim to the shore; the adrenaline still making your body shake as you bask in the euphoria of your daring feat. 

After drying off back at the villa, you sit with him on the terrace and enjoy a gorgeous cooked meal of Bacalao a la Vizcaína, or Basque-style Cod.

You sniff your fork and take a tentative bite, savouring the rich flavours of the tender fish and tangy tomato sauce, closing your eyes, relishing the taste of the dish as it dances on your taste buds. 

"What do you think?" Javi asks, his voice filled with hope.

You nod enthusiastically. "It's delicious, Javi. The flavours are incredible!"

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

You sip on more delicious wine from the bottles he’d brought in abundance from your wine tasting date. As you talk and laugh and hold hands, eventually it gets later in the evening, and Javi suggests going up to bed together.

You can sense some hesitation in his voice though.

“Javi, take me to bed.” You say to him, stroking his face. 

“I am not expecting anything.” He says as he kisses your knuckles. 

“I am.” You say and he titters. “I want you.”

You kiss his cheek and his hands slip around your waist. 

“Te deseo más que nada,” (I want you more than anything) Javi says, his breath warm on your face. “Come, this way.”

He guides you up the stairs slowly, letting your hand touch the wall and your feet stepping carefully up. He lets you know when you’ve reached the top. 

You round a corner with him and he opens a door. It smells of him in there, his familiar cologne tickling your nose and beckoning you in as you enter. 

He walks you towards the bed and you sit on it, feeling it plush and springy under your weight. You feel it dip beside you as he sits.

“Are you nervous, Javi?” You question with a soft smile.

“A little. I-I want to please you.” He says. 

“I’ve no doubt you will.” You reach for his face, grazing your fingers against his silky cheek as he kisses you. 

“I must confess, it has been a little while,” he says carefully. 

“Me too.”

“Oh, that makes me feel a little better,” he chuckles. 

“Quítame la ropa, Javi." (Take my clothes off, Javi) You whisper to him.

You feel his fingers undo the buttons on your shirt and he slides it off over your shoulders, kissing over them gently. You can feel his hair brush against your skin making you shiver.

He lays you back and removes your jeans until you're in just your underwear. 

“Beautiful,” he says. 

“Let me take yours off.” 

He guides your hand to the buttons of his own shirt and you undo them, stopping to stroke at the smooth skin and leaning forward to kiss at his neck.

His hands weave inside your hair as you kiss down his throat and onto his chest. He lays back as you reach his slacks, hovering over the button. 

“Please, querida.” He whines as you unbutton it and slip them down his waist. 

“Javi, are you not wearing any underwear?” You giggle as you feel nothing but smooth, warm skin under your fingers as you move up and down his hips. 

He chuckles. “Sometimes I like to go without. It is very freeing.”

Laughing you run your hands into his thighs, feeling the soft, downy hairs there become more plentiful and a little coarse.

Soon your fingers reach his cock, hard and thick as you glide over the smooth curve of its swell resting up against his belly. You feel it pulse and twitch under your fingers.

You can feel the wetness at the head, slick and sticky, as you slide your thumb over it, and he hisses. 

“You feel big…” You say as you pump gently, listening to the sounds of his breaths catch in his throat. 

“It is average, I think.” He gasps. "Mmm, that feels so good."

“You feel amazing.”

You feel his hands unclip your bra and then caress your breasts, massaging gently as you whine at the feel of his pads trailing across your nipples.

His lips find their way into your neck as he kisses and gasps whilst you touch him. 

He lays you back and you feel him remove your panties, the silk of them sliding down your legs. 

“Mira tú, eres tan hermosa” (Look at you, you are so beautiful) Javi whispers. You gasp as you feel his breath warm your thighs. 

You reach for him, hands gliding over his shoulders and he runs his nose across your stomach. 

“Can I taste you, querida?”

“Yes, please…” You groan, feeling your body tingle in anticipation as his breath draws closer to your hot, pulsing centre.

“Javi!” You gasp, as you feel his tongue sink into your folds.

Warm and wet, you feel him explore and trail his tongue through your slick, groaning in delight as he breathes and hums at the taste of you.

“Deliciosa…” he sighs. (Delicious) 

You feel his tongue flick across your clit, back and forth as he works you up; your thighs twitching around his face as your fingers tussle inside his hair, surrendering yourself to the dreamy, floaty feeling that envelops you.

He sucks on your clit a little harder, and you feel his fingers sliding through your folds. You moan out when you feel them penetrate you, spreading you open around them as he slides them in and out.

“Mmm, Javi, you’re so good at that…” You whine as he laps at that sticky seam between your thighs, nose snuffling against your mound. 

“Feel good, mi sol?”

“So good.” 

You feel a warmth spreading through your body, like a gentle embrace from the sun you remember as a child.

It radiates from within, filling you with a sense of peace and serenity that washes over you like a swelling tide as he laps and kisses at your sopping cunt.

His tongue flicks over your clit again; your body jolts, the stream of pleasure flooding bright light through your limbs. 

“Por favor, no pares Javi, se siente tan bien…” (Please don’t stop, Javi, it feels so good.)

You feel his breaths increase around you as he licks and sucks harder, his fingers diving deep and stroking against that fleshy spot inside, bringing you to your knees as you cry out for him. 

Your body shakes, your spine arches off the bed as you come; his name falling from your mouth around incoherent expletives as he continues to stroke and lick you through it.

Feeling weightless, you’re floating on a cloud, carried away by the currents of the wind until you come back again, panting and breathless for more.

Javi crawls up your body, planting kisses as he goes, until he reaches your mouth. You groan when you can taste yourself on his lips; feel the wetness of his chin graze against yours. 

“You taste really good,” Javi whispers with a smile laced around his teeth. 

You giggle nuzzling into him as you feel his length brush against your thigh. 

Your hands trail down his body, feeling every inch of warmth from his smooth skin; infatuated at how he shudders as your fingers glide down his spine, and you fondle over his pert ass, listening as he grunts when you squeeze it.

You reach for his hard cock between you, feeling him twitch and throb inside your hand as you stroke him; eliciting strained groans from the back of his throat around his generous kisses. 

“Your cock feels so hard,” you smile as you run it up and down inside your grip, your fingers on your other hand cupping around the tight swell of his balls. 

“Mmm, so hard for you, mi sol. Fuck, that feels so good.”

“You like that?”

“Yes. Very much.” You can hear him grin.

You just listen to his pants as you pump him, how his voice is strangled in the back of his throat to the point he’s almost whimpering.

He sounds so good that you could just come again listening to him as you clench continuously.

Soon his hand stops you as you increase the tempo. 

“I am sorry, but if you keep doing this, I will come. And I don’t want to leave you unsatisfied just yet. It might change how you feel about me.” 

“Nothing could change how I feel about you, Javi. I really like you, a lot.”

“Good. I really like you a lot, too. And I am not a selfish lover.”

You guide him towards you, feeling him prod gently at your slick entrance as you both groan. He teases his head in your folds, running it up and down and feeling how you tigthen and squeeze, just barely over the thick crown of him.

“I want you inside me, Javi.” You breathe. 

“Si, I want you too, mi sol. I have thought of this moment.”

He sucks gently on your bottom lip as he pushes his hips forward and slides into you. 

You clasp onto him gasping, it feels incredible; him slowly opening you up as he pants into your face, telling you how beautiful you are in a mixture of English and Spanish pelts. 

“Oh shit… mi sol…” He whines as he works his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and you can hear how wet you are around him as it squelches with every movement. 

You wrap your hands around his neck, as he buries his face into yours. His hips thrusting a little faster as he builds you up. 

"You have such a gorgeous pussy for me," Javi whines into your shoulder. "Oh... wow. Feels so good."

"You feel amazing, don't stop," you groan.

He sucks your nipple into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. 

His hips begin snapping harder into yours as he watches your breaths catch at the back of your throat with each shunt into you.

Holding onto your hands as he slides his cock in and out of you; his hips doing all the work as your fingers interlock in midair.

He leaves you suspended in a growing bliss that will neither drop you unexpectedly, or force you to confront your finish with a speedy resolution leaving you unsatisfied. Building you up slowly, listening to your moans and pants and feeling your body clench and buck around him when he hits the right spots.

He edges you with his cock, slowing down when he can feel you drawing near to that peak, and your face contorting in pleasure as he lets you skirt the edges of your orgasm, around and around on the precarious ledge.

Then, his hips will snap harder again pulling you to the edge of that cliff once more when it settles, and feeling you claw into his back gasping and whining for more as you start to shake around his cock. 

“Javi!” You groan, your skin damp with sweat and you feel his hand on your face, thumb stroking around your lips as you suck it into your mouth.

“Let me have it, mi sol.” He encourages with gritted teeth as he watches you combust. “Oh, you look and sound so good when you come for me. Yes, yes… more! Take more of my cock, it is yours. All yours, mi sol...”

You can’t help but just burst and quake beneath him as he fucks you harder. Calling his name, clawing at his shoulders. Writhing and bucking and arching.

You ride him to his own finish, his hands on your waist as you rest yours on his chest and work your hips. You feel his thick length bottom out inside you as you slide down him each time. Hear the way his breaths quicken, how his body tenses under your fingertips as you gyrate and grind. 

“Si, si…” He stutters as he tenses underneath you. “I am going to come. Where do you want it, mi sol?” 

“Inside,” you say as you lean over him as he cradles you. “Come inside me, Javi.” 

He crushes you to his chest as he thrusts upwards in a steady, hammering rhythm as he empties out with a loud grunt. 

“Oh shit!” Javi whines, his hips jerking as he fills you full, and you moan softly into his neck, sucking on the clammy skin there as he shakes. 

He holds you in his arms afterwards, pressed up tightly against his chest as he kisses over your head; the two of you silent save for your waning breaths. 

“That was incredible,” Javi whispers, nuzzling into your neck. “You are so beautiful. So perfect… I’ve never seen beauty like it before.”

“Javi, you’re a poet.” You grin, reaching up to touch his face.

“Ah, but you like it, yes?”

You nod, smiling and completely blissed out.

“Was it good for you?” He asks gently. 

“It was perfect,” you agree with a smile and running your hands through his silken, sweaty curls.  

“I am glad I bumped into you in the coffee shop, querida.” He says in your ear, tip of his nose brushing your conch. “It was the best day, even though I ruined a perfectly good shirt.” 

You chuckle as he pulls you closer in his arms. “Definitely the best day.” You agree. 

“I am a very lucky man.” 

“Yes, you are,” you smirk, and he chuckles, kissing and nuzzling into you. 

“I want to do so much more with you, mi sol. More dates. More of this. I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you, too.” You twist to kiss him and feel him smile against your lips. "I feel like... I feel like I've seen the sun rise again, with you." You whisper, feeling like you've never experienced a true happiness like this before. "Thank you, Javi."

It does indeed feel like the last ever sunset you saw. Beautiful and lasting forever inside you. It's rays permeating through your bones with every touch, every kiss. Every singular word of affection given.

"Really? Oh, wow!" He gushes as he squeezes you tight. You hear him sniff and you reach up to his face feeling a wetness under his eye.

He kisses your fingertips gently. "You are my sunshine. Mi sol... You are everything."

You wrap yourself around him as he pulls up the sheets over you both.

“Sleep, querida. In the morning I shall make you a delicious breakfast.”

“Sounds amazing. Or you could just have me for breakfast instead.” You suggest with a grin.

“Oh, mi sol. I plan to.” Javi smiles. "And for lunch and dinner..."

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Javi, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

JAVI GUTIERREZ MASTERLIST

[archonsabyss]

╰─..✶. [ Impetuous Bonds ]

❒ pairing: al haitham x fem!reader [ft platonic bff wriothesley]

❒ genre: fluff! action!

❒ warnings: minor violence!

❒ wc: 5.6k

─❒ authors note: did you know I've been working on this fic since october 4th. It's been rough but the year's over thank god. on the other note, let me officially introduce my wriothesley and al haitham as besties brain rot. and yes I have plans to expand on this brain rot. atlst 2 more ideas which I'll start on as soon as the spark hits again 💐

Amid your contrasting personalities was a semblance of shared interests woven together by a single thread. You, one and the same possessed a deep love for reading, discovering solace in the scripted ink, where letters blended to form words, weaving pathways to realms of boundless creativity. Whether it delved into knowledge, seeking escape, or simply enjoying the thrill of fiction, this mutual passion became a bridge of understanding between you despite your glaring differences.

A sense of harmony prevailed in your relationship which created a captivating paradox that intrigued those around you. People marvelled at the depth of your connection, questioning how two individuals so dissimilar could share such an intimate bond. Some attributed it to the age-old saying that opposites attract, believing it to be fate's handiwork—a calm presence to counterbalance chaos, a soothing embrace against restlessness, and a tender heart to temper the directness of the wordsmith.

Alternatively, it could be argued that the similarities, subtle yet profound, were the secret ingredients of your relationship. A quiet demeanour and reserved nature concealed a dream-like love that left onlookers in both awe and envy. Your love story, tender and understated, defied expectations, leaving a trail of wonder and admiration in its wake. A love, true as an existence of pure gold, if such ethereal beauty could be acknowledged.

To you, what others deemed ordinary, was a world of its own. Normal acts of affection and simple gestures of intimacy felt like your beloved had gifted you the heavens and earth. Perhaps, the extent to which you elaborated on your connection with the acting grand sage felt akin to a tale spun from fantasy, a reverie you indulged in.

You considered that the romanticized nature of your love might have been obscured by the mist of infatuation, that the love you had for Al Haitham may have cast an enchanting illusion upon your reality. But it was okay when no harm or toxicity came from being tucked away in your little head, daydreaming about the man who had long proclaimed himself yours until the day he died.

As the early days of parading around with an unacknowledged crush, and the fledgling phase of your romance grew further in distance, you settled into a life different, happier yet marked by its trials.

You fell in step with each other, occasionally finding them offbeat or at entirely different paces, yet such is the essence of any relationship. Despite this, everything harmonized.

While you weren't a morning person, on rare occasions when sleep evaded you, you'd rise earlier than usual, and frequently, Al Haitham would already be awake. During those moments you would sit together in bed for a few minutes longer or have an early breakfast before the sun had fully ascended, relishing in the silence and warmth of each other's company, and today was one of those days.

While Al Haitham took a shower, you began preparing breakfast, knowing that your errands could only be attended to a bit later on.

Upon entering the kitchen, an aromatic veil of freshly brewed coffee gracefully filled the air, its enticing fragrance embracing Al Haitham as he sat down and reached for the coffee, finding it already thoughtfully poured into two cups, one from which you'd intermittently sipped on while engrossed in preparing food to sustain you for the first half of the day. Despite knowing its warmth had faded as you got lost in preparations, you were certain, albeit acknowledging its unhealthiness, that you'd have another cup once breakfast started. Meanwhile, Al Haitham had long eased into his seat at the island table, his hands cradling a mug, savouring the invigorating bitter heat of his coffee. His concentration remained unbroken as his eyes meticulously skimmed through the arranged stack of documents before him.

It was a simple and ordinary scene, but it was these moments shared that held such immense value.

You felt completely at ease as you moved about the kitchen, exuding the comfort of a face free from makeup, clad solely in the shirt Al Haitham discarded before bed, with your hair casually bundled in a tousled bun.

The kitchen bustled with the promise of breakfast, ingredients for pancakes and eggs scattered like confetti on the tables. In contrast to your relaxed appearance, your lover was impeccably dressed, looking incredibly handsome and sharp. For most of the time you had your back turned to him, unaware that Al Haitham couldn't help but steal glances between you and his papers.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips. Though his face remained composed, it was clear from the emotions in his eyes that he was utterly captivated by you— the subtle relaxation and absence of tension in his gaze spoke volumes.

Whenever you turned to face him, his attention would seamlessly shift back to his work, not out of shame for openly admiring his beloved, but because he understood that if your eyes locked, the temptation to whisk you back to bed would be irresistible.

"When will you join me" He mused after some time, lips hiding behind his cup of coffee as you scowled when one of the pancakes painfully flopped.

"As soon as your food is done" You mutter, sighing in relief when you flip the last pancake, turn off the stove, and turn around to set the plate of food before him.

Al Haitham's eyes lit up with deep gratitude behind the gilded frames of his glasses, glimmering with subdued enthusiasm, his smile a testament to the warmth of his appreciation as his fingers entwined with yours, gently pulling you around the counter and towards him.

With a soft kiss on your hand, he tilted his head, silently pleading for a kiss, his whispered "Thank you" lingering in the air as you leaned in, wishing to seal his gratitude with another kiss when you were startled by a sudden resounding crash reverberating through the house, signalling the forceful swing of the front door opening and closing.

You both turned your heads in the direction of the hallway and in sauntered Wriothesley who had been a guest in Sumeru as well as your home for the past week. He wore a nonchalant smile each time he visited, his hair artfully tousled, and his heavy boots thudding on the wooden floor.

Al Haitham often remarked, like clockwork, that Wriothesley would invite himself inside as if he was welcomed, which he was not by his words, but by your prior blessing to enter whenever he pleased.

Al Haitham let out an audible grumble, his smile fading as Wriothesley's smile grew, begrudgingly turning his attention to his meal, expressing his discontent in silence. You planted a kiss on his cheek and gently pulled away, a move he anticipated, evident from the disapproving glare he directed at his plate while he continued eating.

"Good morning, Wriothesley." You cheerfully greeted, just as you have every time he's made his unannounced─ yet expected entrance.

"I've just brewed a fresh pot of tea for you," You stated proudly, already taking out a cup and pouring the piping hot amber liquid in.

In response, your distinguished guest's grin widens a touch as he offers his thanks and comfortably takes a seat beside Al Haitham.

"When do you plan on returning home? I reckon your presence there is considerably valued─ necessary if you prefer" Al Haitham inquired with a casual and composed demeanour, his tone direct and perhaps a bit blunt, though neither you nor Wriothesley takes offence as you've grown accustomed to his straightforwardness.

With a playful gleam in his eyes, he opted to provoke a reaction by disregarding Al Haitham and answering you instead, "Figured you'd feed me"

"Mind your manners," Al Haitham chimes in flatly, taking a sip of his coffee while casting a sidelong glance at Wriothesley. "My wife's not here to serve you."

"Fiancée," Wriothesley corrects teasingly, his smile appreciative towards you as you set the plate before him and move on to the dishes, disregarding their banter.

Al Haitham's jaw tightened in annoyance at the correction. To him, it was merely a title, a formality. In less than a month you were set to officially become his wife, yet the significance of a ring and title paled in comparison to the deep connection he felt in his mind, heart, and soul from the very beginning. He was undeniably yours, just as you were undeniably his, and nothing could change that.

"Regardless, she's mine and has no obligation to serve you let alone feed you"

"It's not an obligation if she wants to do it" Wriothesley takes a sip of his tea, humming in contentment as the warm liquid touches his tongue and envelopes his throat, satisfied with your skills as always.

Al Haitham reluctantly admits to himself that Wriothesley is right, simply because he knows you. Over the years he has observed, comprehended, and admired you from distances far and near, he's learned almost everything there is to know about you, and your passion for cooking was one of them seeing as you've taken up the role of preparing the meals on most days.

Al Haitham has seen the way you revelled in the process of preparing meals with the mindset that your actions would fill the stomachs of those you loved dearly, even if there was the less enjoyable task of washing dishes afterwards, if it was for him, anything. To his misfortune, that anything extended to the male seated beside him as well.

You snuck a few glances between the two, restraining your amusement by biting your lip as you leaned over the counter and picked at the fruit bowls, knowing you were rarely able to stomach food this early in the morning without feeling nauseated.

"It's been a while since I've gotten to savour a meal made with love, let me enjoy this" Wriothesley smiles, savouring the mix of sugary sweet syrup that he licks off his lips.

"If you must, shut up and drink your tea" Al Haitham mumbles under his breath with an ever so small smile hinting at the corner of his lips, prompting an amused raised eyebrow from the onlooker.

"Why don't you shut up and drink your coffee so I can enjoy my tea then"

"You are insufferable"

"Do you think I'm insufferable?" Wriothesley directs at you, pursing his lips into a full pout just to annoy Al Haitham even more.

"No, Wrio. I think you're rather quite loveable" You said smiling as you leaned your forearms on Al Haitham's shoulders and placed your chin atop his head.

"See," He says smugly, "Loveable"

Al Haitham releases a deep breath, exhaling built-up frustrations, and gradually letting worries and tension fade away, he eases his shoulders, leaning back more into your embrace, while Wriothesley attempts to hide his smile upon witnessing it.

"Do you boys have any plans for the day?" You asked eventually. One of them shook his head and the other simply shrugged. "I have a few errands to run and seeing as you're both available, would you mind accompanying me?"

"That would depend" The grin returns to Wriothesley's pondering face, "I'll take my payment in the form of your baking" He decided, unfolding his arms and placing them flat on the countertop, but in doing so he receives a sharp nudge to his ankles from the tip of Al Haitham's shoe.

Wriothesley winces but doesn't retreat, he shrugs lazily before stating lastly with narrowed eyes directed at his dearest friend in emphasis, "I work enough as it is, Al Haitham. Being an errand boy has become more your thing, and besides, there's no way I'm going to pass up the chance of having your Mrs, bake for me"

Al Haitham pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe the forming ache.

You smile sweetly at Wriothesley, thanking him for the compliment just as Al Haitham rises from his seat, dishes in hand and a perpetually sullen and irritated expression etched on his face, wishing for the silence that has been disturbed.

🜙˚─ [˚ ⁀🕯️⟡‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Strolling through the streets of Sumeru to reach your destination, you took the time to observe the peculiar camaraderie between Al Haitham and Wriothesley as they walked a few steps ahead of you, lost in a world of their own, one with a scowl while the other engaged in conversation, seemingly unaware that he wasn't being heard by the former.

Al Haitham's composed and disinterested expression might deceive anyone into believing he wasn't attentive, and there was a chance his noise-cancelling earpieces were intentionally activated to avoid hearing the conversation, but as you observe him closely, you discerned that Al Haitham was indeed attentive, if not wholly absorbed in the Duke's ceaseless chatter.

It was to no one's business but his own, Al Haitham once said to you, for your ears alone, while seated by your dresser, observing you through the mirror as you loosened your corset and unbuttoned your white blouse, revealing skin just above your belly button.

In unspoken words, it was a confession where he admitted he acknowledged his friends more than he expressed. He admired Kaveh's profound passion for the arts and his unwavering stubbornness when they bickered, he also acknowledged with a hint of irritation, the blonde's imperfections and his excessive eagerness to please others through tireless efforts.

What Al Haitham harbours within himself is quite bothersome to his conscious, it is the fact that Kaveh withholds emotional fragility, a presumption he believes you're already aware of, but it does not change how he engages with the latter.

Al Haitham with all his knowledge hardly wishes to entangle himself in the inner turmoil of others, hence, he chooses to refrain from crossing a particular boundary, with Wriothesley on the other hand, presented a slightly more distinct scenario where he found his company rather tolerable if not likable, though he would never dare to articulate it.

Al Haitham turned from the dresser's mirror to face you, drawing you between his parted legs and resting his hands beneath your shirt on your bare hips, he lifted his eyes to meet yours before uttering a sentence you least expected that night before bed. "Would you accompany me to Fontaine?" No further explanation was necessary; you understood the spontaneous mention of a trip to Fontaine. With a wistful smile and a tender kiss on his forehead, you agreed.

The following week, you left for Fontaine to personally wish Wriothesley a Happy Birthday, offering him companionship in his solitude for as long as you could.

What became apparent during that period, was that witnessing Al Haitham being his authentic self wasn't a rare occurrence in Wriothesleys presence.

Wriothesley had a knack for bringing vibrancy to your partner, whether through a spirited debate, an unfriendly competition, or the fact that Al Haitham's eyes had never been more devoid of his usual contentment with a mundane life. This was a side of Al Haitham you've only ever caught brief glimpses of beyond the walls of your home.

The bond threaded through the viscosity of blood coursing within their veins, knowing to most it was nothing more than a misinterpretation of their characters by the way they argued with their teeth bared and claws extended. They appeared mostly harmless. You prayed it would never escalate to physical tests of strength. A chuckle is prompted by the thought, returning you to the ongoing reality of Al Haitham and Wriothesley embroiled once more in their unending dispute.

"I don't see the need for you to be hovering," Al Haitham said. "If I wanted your company I would have asked, which in case you haven't gotten the jest by now, I don't really want"

"Al Haitham!"

Your partner's ears react to the cautionary tone in your voice, and swiftly, his head turns towards you. His eyes widen with innocence, and his demeanour dissolves, resembling a deer caught in headlights. The ongoing argument fades into oblivion, and even Wriothesley's presence is nearly erased as he shifts his focus entirely towards you.

"What?" He asked, oblivious to any issue with his earlier question.

"Could you go buy those spices you brought home last week? We've run out" It's not entirely untrue, but you simply crave a moment of peace from their conversation so you can hurry up the trip and return to the quiet solitude of your home and the warmth of your blankets, and considering Al Haitham is more responsive to your requests, you cleverly recall the need for spice and ask him to handle that quick errand while you wrap up the rest of your grocery shopping.

"Mhm," He murmured, exhaling deeply, placing a slow kiss on your cheek before moving on, going along with your tactic to separate him from Wriothesley who watches in amused bewilderment, hands placed at the top of his hips, "And here I thought I was a dog. You've got a good leash on him. Keep it that way"

"You should stop instigating him," You tell him, amusement glinting in your eyes and tugging on your lips, walking on. Leaving Wriothesley to follow along at his leisure.

"This is my sign to run along"

"Where are you going?" You tilt your head back to glance at him.

"I just remembered something, I'll be back in a bit, promise" In the blink of an eye, he vanishes, leaving you to continue on your way. When you finally reach the bustling Grand Bazaar, vibrant with crowds, you roam the markets and stalls, finding yourself engaged in conversation with Afshin, the travelling merchant, when your attention is abruptly diverted by a sudden commotion.

Across from you, a female merchant had fallen prey to a disgruntled customer, likely the source of the chaos unfolding. A table overturned, boxes strewn across the floor, their contents spilled and some irreparably damaged.

The young woman in her early twenties who stood ownership of the stall, gazed at her belongings before sinking to her knees, attempting to salvage the disarray.

Meanwhile, the customer and what you presumed to be his mercenary guards, hurled disparaging comments about the perceived inadequacy of her trade, their hands clasping the hilts of their swords as though perceiving the young woman as a clear threat.

A sigh escaped you, heart pounding with anxiety as you observed the unfolding scene.

"Give me a moment," You said, Afshin nodded in response, resuming the task of organizing the items on his table.

"Excuse me" Walking towards the occurring scene, you hesitantly intervened, drawing the glaring eyes of the customer towards you.

"This doesn't concern you. Take your nosiness elsewhere woman" He snarled in a manner that made you step back, nevertheless, you stood your ground and faced the Female merchant, offering her a reassuring smile.

"What's your name, dear?"

"Aniya"

"Aniya, what seems to be the problem?" You inquired, assessing the tables and the contents occupying them.

"This man claims my merchandise is not authentic after he has already inspected, bought, and paid for several pieces. Now he asks for a refund without returning the products"

"Look, I don't want no trouble lady" He exclaims, barely standing firm on his short stubby legs. "But if you just give me my money back I'll be on my way"

"What of my labour?! I've spent a good worth of time exploring and producing each of those carpets and materials by hand! You won't find such quality elsewhere for as cheap of a price as I've given!"

His face scrunched in anger, his guards stepping forward with a subtle signal. "If we can't reach an agreement you will pay the price"

"We won't come to an agreement if you refuse to settle your greed" You stated calmly.

The anger that exuded off him was not by any means intimidating, but the mercenaries that stepped forward at the ready, made you cautious.

The tension of the situation gradually grew and you were bordering on a violent reaction, that much you could easily tell given you've been a front-row witness to past events with both Al Haitham and Wriothesley.

As you feel yourself growing anxious, you positioned yourself protectively in front of Aniya, who, though a few years younger, was brimming with unrefined passion and working diligently. The youthful intensity in her gaze spelled trouble, yet it reflected such bravery and boldness altogether, truly embodying the spirit of a genuine merchant, and though it was admirable, it also meant there was no escaping the situation if the fiery spirit possessing her had any influence.

You breathed in steadily, gathering your hyperventilating thoughts and acknowledging your helplessness with Wriothesley and Al Haitham absent. Neither you nor Aniya were fully equipped for a direct physical confrontation, but perhaps, if you could stall them long enough, the result might not be excessively dire. The wisest choice now was to prevent provoking the man to the point that he sends those gruelling tattered mercenaries your way.

The argument─ though you wish not to call it that given you hoped to subdue the situation before it escalated, but with the feistiness of the young Merchant Aniya and the highly obnoxious and demanding customer by the distasteful name of Afif, nothing was going as planned.

Afif was a lord spoiled and rotten in both name and character. By nature, his manner of approach was enough to make your skin crawl and your throat tighten. You wonder who awaits him at home and how they endure such a man throughout their lives, considering you can hardly tolerate his attitude for even a few minutes.

They went back and forth without resolution, and each passing minute had regret swirling hefty within your conscience as neither of them backed down, the mercenaries themselves were growing antsy. With every breeze tousling your hair, it seemed like a word uttered by Afif left you feeling even more frustrated. He simply carried on spouting his nonsense of fair trade─ exposing himself as a hypocrite who disregarded the fundamental principles of fair trade.

In your mind, a silent prayer echoed, hoping for the return of either Al Haitham or Wriothesley.

These kinds of situations were precisely what you aimed to avoid, but your compassion couldn't tolerate witnessing Aniya's mistreatment, and unfortunately, because of it you landed yourself in such a predicament you could neither talk your way out nor pathetically apologize and walk away.

Meanwhile, Al Haitham was en route to the Bazaar when he coincidentally encountered Wriothesley who happened to be returning from his quick errand.

"Where'd you go" Al Haitham asked with a raised brow, causing the dark-haired Duke to pause and turn around, waiting for Al Haitham to catch up before continuing, now with him at his side.

"Look how you contradict yourself Haitham, went from claiming I was hovering to questioning my absence. Such a sweetheart─ truly" He flashed a lazy grin, revealing the pointed tips of his fangs that grazed his bottom lip.

"If you must know, Tea" He wiggled the bag mid-air for Al Haitham to see.

"I felt compelled to ask, not that I care much at all"

"You care enough"

"Unfortunately" Al Haitham muttered with a roll of his eyes, flexing the fingers of his free hand that wasn't holding the pack of spices you had asked him to fetch.

Upon entering the Bazaar, Al Haitham abruptly ceased his argument with Wriothesley. He lapsed into silence as he paused and scanned the area, allowing for his senses to come back to him.

He alongside Wriothesley took in the situation surrounding you and the menacing bodies enclosing your safe space. The ambience was palpable even from his current position.

Wriothesley glanced at Al Haitham who had already begun to pick up his pace and he followed suit.

If given the opportunity, Al Haitham would steer clear of any sort of situation that compelled him into social confrontations. He cherished solitude, finding no necessity for social interaction unless absolutely unavoidable.

He was a man of simplicity, content in silence until he met you, and suddenly, he found a liking for sharing that silence with you. In that regard, both of you shared a preference for confining yourselves within the familiar walls of home, avoiding expending energy on forced interactions.

Even when venturing outside, the dynamic persisted. Amidst a sea of people and bustling crowds, it was as if the world consisted solely of the two of you. Others might cast glances, but your attention remained fixed on the path ahead or each other.

Your ears seemed attuned exclusively to each other's voices, and your hands, not particularly fond of physical contact, found solace only in being held by one another.

But when Al Haitham caught sight of you standing there trying to convey strength through your expression, the subtle tremble in your fingers betrayed you and did not go unnoticed by him.

A cold chill ran down his spine and the sensation of blood draining from his body followed. With urgency, he briskly approached to be by your side, arriving just in time to see rough hands reaching out to seize you. Commotion and reactions stirred among the onlookers, who stood by passively, aggravating him further.

"There seems to be a problem here" Al Haitham intervened, his voice clear, monotone, and confident, arms hanging casually at his sides as he looms over the customer, whose posture shifts the moment he lays eyes on the unexpected presence of the Acting Sage.

Al Haitham's arrival brings instant relief to your anxiously furrowed forehead and your tensed shoulders.

"Acting Grand Sage" Afif mumbles with a touch of trepidation, his once gruesome expression fading entirely.

The tallest among the three mercenaries scowls in response to the sudden intrusion, displaying no fear or concern for Al Haitham in his demeanour.

It's evident that he harbours a strong desire to pummel the interrupter through those demonic eyes glaring at your lover's head. Had it not been for Wriothesley who announces his presence to you by offering a reassuring nudge to your shoulder, you'd have redirected your cowering gaze to the ground.

Wriothesley leans casually against the wooden beam of the market tent, arms folded with a smug air as he watches Afif and his Entourage of folks masquerading as combatants.

Afif squirms under the intimidating aura of both Al Haitham and Wriothesley and attempts to shift the blame, trying to implicate Aniya for supposedly intending to mislead him in the trade, alleging that she was dishonest about her products, as is often the case in trade within Sumeru lately. In this instance, it was not. Aniya's honesty mirrored her ambition to rise as a respected merchant, firm and true.

Afif's initial efforts were futile, and as he came to this realization, fear gradually morphed into anger.

"I don't owe any of you an explanation, this is between me and that deceitful merchant wench" He spat, instructing his mercenaries to seize Aniya. However, their unscrupulous nature led them to reach for you as well, a decision that likely proved to be their gravest mistake.

Standing beside you, Wriothesley, under the Scribe's approving gaze, shrugged and uncrossed his arms, rolling his shoulders back as the mercenaries lunged forward with snarls.

He was mindful of the limited space and wary of endangering you or Aniya and therefore employed small, sharp, and precise movements. He swiftly evaded a punch from the towering mercenary, causing him to stumble forward in the aftermath of his failed attack. In that fleeting moment, Wriothesley seized the flailing arm of his adversary and firmly clamped his other hand onto his shoulder, twisting it behind his back and rendering him effectively immobilized.

With a vigorous push, he forced the vanquished mercenary to his knees, a disgruntled groan of pain echoed. Simultaneously, the second mercenary, driven by rage and fiery eyes, charged forward, only to be skillfully tripped and sent tumbling to the ground, nursing a bruised ego.

Wriothesley applied the weight of his sturdy boot on the back of the second assailant, forcing his face into the ground. Meanwhile, the first attacker was restrained by his hair, ensuring both remained motionless and incapable of causing further trouble.

"Care to help?" He directed at Al Haitham, paying no mind to the third mercenary who tightly clenched his blade, casting nervous glances between Wriothesley, who effortlessly subdued his fellow mercenaries, his employer, and the aloof scribe who stood in front of you protectively.

The onlookers stared in astonishment at the unfolding scene. Aniya, her mouth agape in amazement, beheld the renowned Duke of Fontaine standing before her very eyes, and besides you, Al Haitham, the esteemed Acting Grand Sage of Sumeru, portrayed a grand demeanour, often misunderstood. She observed his protective stance in front of you and it brought a small smile to her face, recognizing the subtle expressions of love in those gestures. She watched them in awe despite feeling guilt for the entire situation being a result of her actions.

"You appear to be managing quite well without me" Al Haitham replied with a raised brow.

"Leaving me to do all the work, I see" Cracking his neck, Wriothesley awaited the concluding blow from the sole remaining mercenary.

"Classifying it as 'work' would be a stretch," Al Haitham emphasized, "Three mercenaries hardly pose a challenge for you, Your Grace."

Releasing the two mercenaries he held, both now unconscious, Wriothesley did so just as the final adversary staggered forward on unsteady legs. True to Al Haitham's assertion, Wriothesley effortlessly subdued the remaining threat by gripping the front of his shirt and hoisting him off the ground.

"I feel like I'm third wheeling," You remarked.

"Nonsense, Wriothesley just talks a lot" Al Haitham brushed aside, moving past you in the direction of Afif, narrowing the brief gap between them. With the situation now in check, the only task left was tending to Afif before you could all proceed on your way.

"I'm sensing a bit tension though" You teased, nonetheless.

"Really?" Pipes Wriothesley over his shoulder, "On a scale of 10, how good is our chemistry?"

"Can you not entertain this, Wriothesley" Al Haitham looks at you, "And no, there is nothing of the sort nor will there ever be"

"Why not?"

"I am perfectly content with the relationship I'm in," He says, and simultaneously, a metallic clinking sound captures your attention.

You glance towards the source of the sound and find yourself pleasantly surprised. Wriothesley notices the shift in your gaze and follows your line of sight. Al Haitham had grabbed the dangling pair of handcuffs on his hip, right under his nose, and placed them on Afif's hands, all while everyone's attention was absorbed in listening to your conversation rather than observing him.

"What the─" Wriothesley muttered, his eyes wandering to the metal restraints encircling the discourteous customer's wrists. A moment later, upon realization setting in, he checked his side, only to realize with surprise that it was indeed his handcuffs.

"Keep up" The smugness in Al Haithams voice could be heard even without looking at him.

"Well shit buddy, good luck trying to get those off" Wriothesley blinks, expression flat as he stares at his handcuffs knowing the only means of removing them lies in a key only accessible to him – a key that resided in the drawer of his cluttered desk all the way in Fontaine.

"So.." Wriothesley trails off looking around, "What do we do with them now?"

"Let's have them pay a visit to the General Mahamatra, I'm certain he'd know just what to do with you"

"This has no connection to the Akakemiya. I haven't breached any rules concerning it and therefore you have no right to detain me like this! It goes against my rights."

Wriothesley chuckled, bending eye level with Afif. "Your rights have just been revoked, Lord"

"I beg to differ. Would you like a detailed account of all your criminal activities?" Al Haitham undoubtedly possesses more knowledge than he let's on. He's not bluffing, and you wonder what kind of leverage your fiancé has on this insignificant Lord for him submit and cower so quickly.

Leaning in to whisper, he says, "Wouldn't want the Akademiya catching wind of your illicit knowledge exchanges, would we? Or perhaps General Mahamatra is already on the lookout for you, Khada'i. Your nose is in everyone's business, and because of that, I'll ensure you're buried. Now then," he pats his shoulder. Sweat accumulates on Afif's—rather, Khada'i's—face under the pressure of Al Haitham's words. "Sit quietly and await your end."

"You two are enjoying this" You shift your weight to your right leg, hand on your hip.

"Not in the slightest," Denies Al Haitham, while simultaneously, Wriothesley questions, "What gives you that impression?"

Shaking your head, you dismiss the two as the guards lead away the identity-deceiving lord into proper custody. You turn to Aniya once more, and she showers you with endless gratitude for your help and assistance. She expresses concern about what might have happened if you hadn't been there, especially with Afif sending his mercenaries after her, fearing what may have become of the situation then had you not stepped in. The recent situation had drained you entirely of your energy and though Aniya offered to repay you in any way she could, you politely declined, desiring only to be on your way and depart from the public eye, wanting nothing more than to be home with a cup of coffee and your bed.

☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!

[moonlightndaydreams]

JISUNG SMUT IDEA! Soo I was Christmas shopping the other day and I went into Sephora and found one of the colognes Han Jisung uses (Dior Sauvage) and I may or may not have bought a bottle for my boyfie for Christmas definitely not because I'm obsessed with Jisung and I need him no that's definitely not it at all LOL HELP and I've come to the conclusion that this scent has made me realize I gave a scent kink and I was wondering if you could write something where reader having a scent kink and jisung finds out about it and teases her about it and fucks her so good and so well cause I'm so fucking delulu for that man it's unhealthy. I love your work sm! Thank you 😫

Love, Hannji ✨️

Bergamot & Vanilla

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader // AU colleagues to lovers

Synopsis: You and Jisung work together but ever since that day he leant you his scarf and almost kissed you, you've been fantasising about him. When he secretly discovers you still have his scarf and his cologne is still on it, he decides to do something about it.

Word count: 6k approximately

CW below.

Warnings MINORS DNI - SMUT WARNING: NSFW, scent kink, Han is a perv (sort of but not creepy), Han tastes readers “arousal”, fondling in a public place, panty sniffing, car sex, unprotected piv sex, cumming inside, nipple sucking, vaginal fingering, masturbation, sexual fantasies, angst, creampies, happy ending.

You were almost there. The familiar knot in your stomach ready to snap at any moment. You needed the release. Desperately. You rubbed your clit harder and wrapped Han’s scarf tighter around your face, immersing yourself in that fragrance, the one he had worn when you had only just started working closer together in your new roles, and it had made you wet instantaneously. The one he wore that one time when you swore he was going to kiss you.

You fucked yourself faster with your dildo as you cast your mind back to that moment. You were both in the work car, off to see a client, when you were caught in traffic. You remembered the sound of the rain hitting the windscreen, and the squeaking of the wipers that needed to be replaced as they tried their best to give you a clear view of the road. The entire car had been filled with Han’s cologne. Intoxicating. A mix of bergamot and vanilla.

You chased your orgasm, moaning breathily as you pictured him in the driver’s seat. He had been dressed in a beige jacket and a grey and white scarf. He’d looked at you nervously, and you had felt your stomach flip and cunt throb. Fuck you had wanted him so bad. He’d stared at you, also nervously, swallowing hard and licking his lip anxiously. “Y/n,” he’d whispered, his eyes dropping to your lips. “Jisung?” you’d choked. And then a car beeped from behind, taking you both out of your trance.

But in your fantasy, there was no beeping of horns to interrupt you. In your fantasy, Jisung crashed his lips on yours. He was rough and desperate. His tongue slid into your mouth. “Get in the back.” He demanded, pulling away. “I need you”. Suddenly, you flashed to images of yourself and Jisung in the backseat. Windows foggy, your clothes discarded. “Ride me, please baby”. He panted. You sunk down onto his cock with ease, and bounced on him like a wild woman. You nuzzled into the scarf as you imagined nuzzling into Jisung’s neck. You imagined him saying filthy things to you like “you’re so wet”, “you’re so fucking tight,” and “Come for me, baby”. And then you’re were actually coming. You clenched around your didlo while imagining you were clenching around Jisung’s cock. It was intense. It always was. The scent on the scarf heightening the fantasy, melding reality and fiction together to create an extra potent experience. A euphoria that brought tears to your eyes.

In reality, Jisung never kissed you. Your little moment broken by the impatient drivers behind you. The client wasn’t home when you arrived, and so Jisung suggested to go out for lunch. Well that was torture. He even looked fuckable eating a meal. You sat across from him as he peeled off his jacket to reveal his gorgeous cream sweater that was thin enough to show his toned frame. Fuck you loved knitwear on men. Especially Jisung. Then he removed his scarf, placing it on the chair behind him. Anyone in the restaurant would have thought you were a couple. You were similar age, you got along exceptionally well, like two besties. But your heart was racing a million miles an hour and felt so loud that you were sure the chef would have heard it in the kitchen.

Then when you stepped outside after lunch, the rain and wind had picked up and Jisung wrapped his scarf around your neck. The gesture caused the breath in your throat to hitch and you knew you couldn’t help but stare at him as he stood awfully close while adjusting it. You could have sworn he took longer than necessary to make sure it was just right. But you couldn’t be certain.

That was three months ago. Somehow you never gave him the scarf back. Instead, you used it to indulge in your own sexual pleasure, masturbating as you inhaled the mixture of his cologne and him, and imagining him inside you.

You laid on your bed, catching your breath. Han fucking Jisung. Fuck, you had it bad for him. Your work colleague. You shook the sexual thoughts away and attempted to bring your mind and body firmly back into reality, sitting up and checking the clock. You had plenty of time for a shower before Jisung would be there to pick you up on the way to see a client. Forgetting about putting away your dildo and scarf, you grabbed your outfit for the day and headed up the hall to your bathroom, closing the door behind you, and turning on the shower.

———

Jisung pulled up in your driveway. He was early, but he hoped you might be ready to maybe grab some breakfast, or at the very least, a coffee. That’s what was great about being mobile lenders for the bank you worked at, you could try out all the different cafes in between clients.

When he realised you weren’t answering the door, he let himself in with the spare key you had given him. It was meant to be a one off thing, the key, and Jisung couldn’t quite remember the reason you gave it to him. But you had never asked for it back, so he kept it. He wasn’t sure why he kept it either. It was kind of creepy if he thought about it. So he simply decided the best thing to do was not think about it.

Once inside the house, Jisung was immediately met with the sound of you singing in the shower down the hall, and he chuckled to himself. It was awful. But you sounded happy and that made him happy too. You were generally a happy person, but he’d caught glimpses of something more from you now he spent more time with you. Something deeper, and Jisung found himself daydreaming about you a lot. In fact, Jisung couldn’t keep his mind off you. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke each morning, and the last thing he thought about each night. He loved that he could spend his days working alongside you. All day, everyday. But he never let on. He tried to not let his eyes linger on your lips, instead he’d stare at your ass whenever you hopped out of the car. Sometimes, he’d pretend he was tired and ask you to drive just so he could steal glances of your face while you concentrated on the road.

Jisung looked around the entry hall of your house, wondering if he should go sit in the living room or wait at the front door? Maybe he should go back out and wait in the car? You might freak out if you just found him in your home while you had been naked in the shower. But then he noticed the door on his right was open. Jisung had been in your house a few times before, but that door had always been closed. He stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame, taking in what must be your bedroom. Your most personal space. Dark teal walls with vintage pictures that hung far too high up than they should be. A big window let in a beautiful amount of natural light. No esnuite, which he had already figured out with your terrible singing voice muffled by the sound of a shower in another part of the house.

His eyes landed on your bed. The place where you slept each night. He imagined you laying there sleeping. Did you always sleep alone, or did you bring men into your boudoir? Han wanted to be one of those men. Did you sleep naked? Han wanted to lay against your naked body. He’d thought about that often. Then he saw it. His scarf. The one from that day. Jisung had wanted to kiss you so bad in the car that day. Fuck, he’d almost kissed you when he wrapped that scarf around you. He’d even noticed how you’d held your breath when his fingers lingered on you when he was securing it around you. He had hoped you hadn’t noticed he was taking his time with it.

Jisung turned his head to look up the hallway towards your bathroom. You were still belting out something he couldn’t quite understand, and his legs took on a mind of their own as he walked into your room and approached your bed. He picked up the scarf and pressed it to his face hoping to smell you. He did smell you. You were mixed with the scent of him and the cologne he’d worn up until that day. Jisung scoffed. He stopped wearing that cologne after that. He wasn’t sure why. He also wasn’t sure why you had his scarf on your bed?

His heart began to beat faster and he brought the scarf back to his nose once more. This time he noticed a scent that made his dick begin to harden, and his eyes closed in what could only be described as arousal. The part of his brain that controlled imagination suddenly fired up and in his mind he found himself between your legs, lapping you up. Jisung’s eyes shot open when he realised exactly what it was he could smell, at the same time his eyes caught a bright purple object on the bed. Your dildo. Jisung knew he shouldn’t touch it. He should be satisfied just knowing that you had been pleasuring yourself, possibly merely minutes before his arrival. He should be content with simply hoping you were pleasuring yourself with thoughts of him, just like he did with thoughts of you.

But Jisung, couldn’t help himself, and he reached down and grasped the toy, holding it in his hand to take a closer look. He knew it’s wrong, an invasion of your privacy, but he was mesmerised by the glistening wetness covering the entire length, and the creaminess that had gathered at the base. He wanted to do so many things simultaneously in that moment. He wanted to run his finger through your juices, gathering it up on his fingers. He wanted to lick the dildo clean and taste you. He wanted to barge into the bathroom and take you in the shower, lifting you against the wall and sinking into you, making you cry out his name.

A little whimper escaped Jisung’s lips, bringing him back to his senses. This is fucked up, you shouldn’t be looking at this. But he allowed himself to just dip his fingertip into the the creamy substance, scooping the tiniest bit from the toy, and then putting both it and scarf back on the bed. You would never know. He looked at his finger, holding it up so the sunlight could catch it, making it glisten on his skin. This is wrong, Jisung. You can’t be doing this. But he brought his finger to his mouth and slipped it inside, tasting you on his tongue. He moaned low. He’d imagined tasting you plenty of times before, but now he knew, really, how you tasted, and he comitted it to memory. He moaned again into the silence. The silence! Jisung’s eyes flew open. The shower. He could no longer hear the water running, and there was no sign of your singing either. Fuck! Jisung rushed back to the front door, praying to the gods you hadn’t seen anything.

——-

You emerged from the bathroom unaware that Jisung was even in your house.

“Fuck, Ji, you scared the shit out of me!” You yelped when you saw him standing at the front door. Inside your house instead of outside.

Jisung chuckled. “I still have that spare key you gave me, remember?” He shrugged. Oh yes, of course, the key. Jisung chuckled again, his eyes flickering towards your bedroom door for a moment before resting somewhere near your feet. Your eyes darted to your bedroom door. Oh fuck! The scarf! His scarf… on your bed… with your dildo...and you door open. You bit your lip panicking internally, and quickly close door.

“H-have you been waiting long?” You stuttered shrilly.

Jisung shook his head quickly. “Nah… just a minute or two.” He cleared his throat. “Thought…um…we could grab a coffee or something.” He adds eyes still fixed to the floor.

“Yeah, coffee sounds good.” You reply but you could sense something was off with him, and you prayed to god he didn’t peek into your bedroom.

———————-

Once you and Jisung were on the road, he started to act like his usual self. Kind and silly, and singing randomly to songs. You loved the duality in his personality. At ease with you, and professional with clients. Both versions of him made your heart flutter. You looked over to him, while his eyes were concentrating on the road. He was smirking to himself as though he had a secret he was dying to share but had to keep it to himself. It made you suspicious. You knew you left your bedroom door wide open, and you knew you’d left…evidence … on your bed… and you knew he had the opportunity to see your secret if he had been looking.

Jisung parked at one of your regular coffee shops. “The usual?” he asked as he pulled on the handbrake, and you nodded yes. He opened the car door and gasped the sudden temperature change. “Ooh, it’s a bit windy today,” he said as he stepped outside. “Should have brought a scarf.” He leaned in an winked at you before closing the door.

You felt your face flush a crimson red, and your stomach dropped. What the actual fuck? Did he know? You wanted the seat underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. But Jisung was already entering the coffee shop, and you had no idea if he had meant anything by what he had just said, or if you were just being paranoid.

————————

Three days later you found a seat in the conference room at the bank where you and Jisung worked. It was a training day and you were going to be subjected to two hours of a brain numbing presentation from your Manager, Chris. You preferred to sit up the back in the corner closest to the door. That way no one would see you zone out, and you could make a quick escape when it was over. You put your notepad and pen on the seat next to you. Jisung had already messaged you half an hour before saying he was caught at the department store whilst on his lunch break, and wanted you to save him a seat. “I’ll bring you a coffee.” He promised, followed by a smiley face emoji.

He still hadn’t arrived when the lights were dimmed, and your Manager, Chris, called for everyone’s attention. “Okay, team.” He smiled sheepishly. “I know you all have important work to get on with, but I want to thank you for your time.” He looked around at the thirty or so staff in front of him, and started up his laptop that was connected to the large screen at the front of the room.

That’s when you tuned out. It wasn’t long before your mind was filled with thoughts of Jisung and his harmless comment about the wind and needing a scarf from earlier that week. He hadn’t made any further remarks since that indicated he knew anything of the little activities you have with his clothing. You were on high alert of anything suspicious coming out of his mouth, but he said nothing out of the ordinary. You did, however, feel his eyes on you more than usual. Or was that just because you were hyper-alert? Did he always look at you often? Did he always look like he was swallowing a hard lump in his throat when you were stopped at traffic lights?

You brought your hands to your face and rubbed your eyes, hoping you hadn’t smudged your mascara. When you opened them again, you saw Jisung through the glass wall of the conference room. He was holding two take away coffee cups and he was wearing that same sweater and jacket from that day in the restaurant. The same sweater and jacket from your fantasies. You gulped just as Jisung saw you. His eyes lit up and he smiled his gummy smile, raising his arm in attempt to wave at you.

Jisung quietly tiptoed into the room and sat down beside you. That’s when it hit you. Bergamot and vanilla. He was fucking wearing that cologne. It was fresh and overpowering. So much stronger than the remnants that were still on his scarf. He smiled and raised his eyebrows, and passed you your coffee. You took the cup from him, not taking your eyes off of his. He didn’t break eye contact, just bit his bottom lip subconsciously. He knows. He must know.

You broke eye contact first, snapping your head back to the front of the room. You could feel your body heating up. Your head throbbed as though you could feel your blood pumping around your body faster. Your mouth was dry, so you took a sip of your coffee. But all you could taste was Jisung’s cologne. It was mixed with a slight smell of sweat - him - and it wasn’t just your head that was throbbing. Your body was responding to the scent in the way it did each night. It was an automatic response now. Your core ached in anticipation for your hands or your dildo.

Your mind saw images of fucking him in the car, bouncing on his cock, sucking the skin on his neck. No no no no…. You had to stop. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to stop your panties from soaking, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Jisung adjusting his posture, and spreading his legs a little wider, causing his knee to rest against your leg. Fuck. Your free hand gripped the hem of your skirt, both to ground yourself and to try and cover more of your leg. Your knuckles turned white as you tried to maintain your composure.

You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin and melting your core. You needed to touch yourself. But you couldn’t. You just had to endure this agonising, but sweet, torture that Jisung was inflicting on you. He knows what he is doing.

Jisung leaned in to whisper in your ear, bringing his hand beside his face up to shield his mouth from view of other people.

You sat frozen still, and that fucking fragrance grew stronger the closer he got. His warm breath teasing your ear and neck as he spoke.

“Can you smell my new cologne, y/n?” he taunted. “It’s a lot stronger that what would be left on my scarf.” He leaned back and winked at you.

You cleared your throat. “I…I have to go to the bathroom.” and you quickly removed yourself from the room and headed to the bathroom. You needed to calm yourself down. The excitement that was pulsing around you felt so overwhelming and so loud, that you were certain everyone could see exactly what was going on inside you. It felt as obvious as having a big flashing sign above your head saying “I’m so horny and ready for Jisung to fuck me”.

Oh dear. You ran your hand up your inner thigh, brushing your fingers over your satin panties and you let out a small whimper as you pressed against your clothed clit. Soaked. As expected. You could fix yourself up right then and there and relieve some of the pressure. It would be quick and easy. But there was part of you that didn’t want to. You loved the feeling of being this turned on while you sat beside Jisung. You enjoyed the longing that you felt for him. You wanted him to be the one to ease the ache inside of you, not your fingers again.

He must’ve felt the same way, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so bold or forward in the conference room, right? You had an idea. You knew how you could make him just as crazy as you felt.

——-

Jisung did know what he was doing to you. He’d deliberately worn this particular outfit, and he intentionally went to the department store to buy a fresh bottle of the cologne he knew drove you wild.

He smirked to himself wondering if you were going to rub one out in the bathroom. His dick twitched at the thought of you touching yourself. His erection was starting to become prominent and so Jisung removed his jacket and draped it strategically on his lap.

When Jisung saw you return a few minutes later, you no longer had a coffee cup with you, but instead you had something balled up in your fist. You resumed your seat still looking flustered, and Jisung felt a sense of satisfaction that he was responsible for your current state. You reached across and placed whatever was in your hand into the pocket of his jacket. Jisung arched an eyebrow. Intrigued, he reached into his jacket pocket, and his heart stopped when his fingers brushed the item you had placed in there. Satin fabric. Wet satin fabric. Fuck! Were these your panties? To be sure Jisung brought his fingertips to his face, pretending to scratch his nose. It was your panties. The scent of your arousal was unmistakable.

Jisung glanced at your legs, his eyes traveling up your thigh to where your mini skirt began. Were you bare under there?

Jisung imagined sliding his hand up your inner thigh to find out. He wanted to feel how wet you were and to gather your juices directly from the source, instead of off your underwear. He had to fight the urge to kneel down in front of you then and there and push your legs apart so he could bury his face against your pussy.

Then he felt your hand. Your fingertips edging their way underneath the jacket on hip lap. Jisung sucked in a breath and suppressed a moan that was threatening to come out of his mouth.

He turned towards you only to find you were watching where your hand was traveling closer to his erection. Then your eyes flickered up to meet his. It was all Jisung needed to see to know you absolutely felt the same way as he did.

———-

You felt Jisung’s thigh tense under your touch as your fingers made their way towards your target. You lifted your gaze to meet his. His expression making you want to ravish him right there. His brow was furrowed in concentration, or was it in an attempt to keep his composure? And his nose scrunched up in a way that could only mean frustration. But you knew he wasn’t frustrated at you. It was obvious what he was feeling. Agony. But to be absolutely certain, you moved your hand further under his jacket to find he was hard. Very hard. You palmed his erection and he squeezed his eyes shut, as though resisting the urge to rut his hips up against you. You took this opportunity to lean into his ear, inhaling his delicious scent, and allowing your warm breath to linger on his skin before speaking.

“Ji,” you whispered. “Need you.”

Jisung released a shaky exhale and you heard the tiniest of whimpers escape his mouth. You squeezed your hand around the length of his clothed cock. “After this, yeah? Need you so bad.” You cooed.

You pulled your hand back from underneath Jisung’s jacket and sat straight in your chair, pretending to concentrate on Chris at the front of the room.

Jisung squirmed a little in his seat, trying to make his erection disappear. You could feel your inner thighs sticking together and you regretted being sans panties. That was until Jisung’s hand dove back into the pocket where your panties were and brought his fingers to his face once more and pretended to scratch his nose. You had never been this turned on in your entire life and you felt like you might just come untouched.

You bit down on your fingers to distract yourself from the sensations coursing through your body, but the action caused Jisung to groan, which in turn made your cunt throb. This was getting out of hand.

Jisung must have thought so too because he was back at your ear, again holding his hand against his face to shield his mouth from view of the others around you.

“You’re so naughty.” He whispered and then took your earlobe in his mouth. A jolt of electricity shot through your nerves, and you couldn’t breath. He sucked, nibbled and tugged gently on your lobe with his teeth before moving down to the skin just below your ear. He kissed that sensitive area softly and your eyes closed.

“You know,” he whispered against your ear. “our next client has canceled. Which means,” he kissed you neck again. “We can find somewhere to be alone.”

Fuck. Your eyes opened and you snapped your head to Jisung, locking eyes with him desperately. His expression mirrored yours for a moment before he turned to the front of the room, not giving you any more attention.

As you both pretended to be paying attention to the presentation, you couldn’t think straight. You couldn't even breathe. You could cut the tension with a knife, sensing that the other was about to implode at any moment. You were both on edge desperate to be alone. Desperate to rip each other’s clothes off. Desperate to be as close as possible. Jisung reached for your hand that was resting on the seat next to your thigh, and squeezed it reassuringly. A warmth spread through your entire body and you felt butterflies on your stomach. This wasn’t just lust or desire. It was something else.

“I’ve got you, okay?” He whispered from where he sat, and you felt like you were about to melt into a puddle.

Jisung held your hand like that for the rest of the presentation. As Chris began to wrap up the session that aching desire resurfaced. Your senses started to intensify and your vagina clenched in anticipation. You and Jisung were going to be alone very soon.

————

Pretending you were going to see your next client, you both hurried to the car. It was pouring rain outside and the car was parked in the outdoor company parking space, and you couldn’t avoid getting wet.

You both looked wet and disheveled as Jisung started the car up and turned drove out onto the street.

“Where are you taking us?” You asked, taking in the beautiful man at the wheel.

“I know a place no one will find us.” He replied looking at you. Your heart skipped a beat.

“I hope it’s close because I’m not sure how long I can wait.” You whined.

“Baby…I need you to hold on just a little longer for me… we’ll be there real soon. I promise.”

His eyes returned to the road. “Fuck.” He huffed as the traffic ahead came to a standstill.

“Oh, Jisung!” You whimpered and he reached for your hand. He looked at you tentatively, almost pained. “I’ve got you, remember?” He said steady and low.

You were taken back to that first time you were stuck in traffic in the rain. The window wipers screeched as they struggled to give you a clear view of the road. Jisung’s cologne was overpowering your senses. Just like last time.

You looked at each other like you were both about to cry. You needed each other right now. Despite both your neediness and desperation, Jisung moved slowly as he closed the gap between the two of you, resting his forehead against yours and squeezing your hand. Then his lips connected to yours, capturing you in a kiss. Softly at first. Slowly. He pulled away just an inch so he could look at your lips again, before crashing back down on you with a searing kiss. It was the kiss you’d been dreaming about for months. Hot and urgent. You were desperate to taste him more, so you parted your mouth as an invitation for him to slip inside. Jisung took the opportunity, dipping his tongue past your lips to find your tongue.

The kiss intensified as you gasped for air, only pulling away to catch your breath before finding each other again. Still holding Jisung’s hand you placed it on your thigh. Another invitation that he happily accepted. You both moaned into each other’s mouth when his hand moved up your leg and under your skirt and slid through your sopping pussy. You parted your legs to give him more access, and you welcomed his fingers with a choked whimper when he sunk two of them inside of you.

Jisung broke the kiss and looked at you incredulously with lust-filled eyes. His pink, puffy lips were nothing short of delectable.

“Fuck! I need to feel you baby…need to be inside you.” He bit his lip to suppress a growl as he pumped his fingers inside you a few times.

“Hurry, Jisung.” You whispered. You were almost in tears, the tension in your body so intense.

Jisung removed his fingers and brought them to your face and smeared your juices across your trembling lips. “So fucking beautiful.” His voice was barely audible. Then something in him snapped and he was suddenly on high alert, flicking on the indicator and looking over his shoulder and pulling out of the traffic into a turning lane.

“Where are we going?” you panted.

“Somewhere nearby…Can’t wait. Need you.” He replied as he zipped the car into a nearby deserted carpark and pulled the car up to a stop.

You were on him in instantly, throwing yourself against him. He met you with the same enthusiasm, kissing you messily. Your hand reached for the hem of his sweater, indicating you wanted it off. He obliged, peeling it over his head and tossing into the back seat. Your hands immediately began exploring his body. His skin was scorching to the touch, and you could feel his muscles tense as you ran your hand down towards his trousers. Jisung pulled pushed his seat back as far as it would go, and tilted the backrest slightly. You climbed over the centre console hiking your skirt up and straddling him. You were so close to each other now and you ached for him so fucking bad it hurt. Jisung unbuttoned your blouse as you ground against his erection trying to seek friction on your bare pussy. He tossed your blouse into the passenger seat, and unhooked your bra and letting it fall off you. He gasped.

“God, you’re so perfect, baby.” He took in the sight of your breasts. He dipped his head to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and nibbling. You cried out at the pleasure that shot straight from your breast to your cunt, making you clench around nothing. “Can’t wait, Ji.” You cried.

“Lift up for me, baby.” He instructed. “Yes like that.” He undid his trousers, shimmying both them and his boxers down enough to free his cock. “Look at me, baby.” He said desperately as he rubbed the head of his cock back and forth through your lips. “You ready, yeah?” he smiled. You answered by sinking yourself down on his entire length in one motion. You both let out a pornographic groan as you adjusted to the stretch and felt the relief of finally being filled after hours of teasing, but months of pining.

“Oh fuck, Jisung.” You choked. “If I move I’m gonna come.”

Jisung chuckled. “Lean into me, baby…let go and come for me. We can go for a round two in a minute.”

You nuzzled into his neck, just like in your fantasies. The rain beating down on the car roof and the steamy windows made you feel like you were in your own little world. You breathed in Jisung’s cologne as you rolled your hips over his cock. You both became sticky with sweat almost immediately, but that added to the pleasure.

“You smell so good.” You whisper as you felt yourself ready to snap.

“You really like this cologne huh? Tell me what would happen if I wore it everyday?” he puffed and rolled his hips up to meet you.

“I’d hold you responsible for my actions.” You teased, slamming yourself down hard.

Jisung moaned. “Oh yeah?!” he growled, gazing at you with a fucked out grin plastered on his face.

“Yeah…you should worry for your personal safety if you’re gonna wear it everyday.” You panted.

“Why’s that, hmm?”

“Because…I’ll need you to fuck me.” you said flatly.

“Well I think I’ll take the risk…wanna fuck you everyday…forever.” He pulled your hips down so he sat as deep inside you as possible and rocked you back and forth so that you clit ground against him while his cock rubbed against that spot, making you cry out his name.

“Fuck, your clenching so tight. I’ve got you, baby. Let go for me.”

“I’m coming…. I’m coming…” you cried squeezing around Jisung’s cock in pulsating waves. Jisung let out a long, low groan as he reached his climax too. He took you in another wet and messy kiss as you both waited for your breath to return to normal.

“Baby, you feel so good.” Jisung smiled and held you close. “But I’m still hard.”

You leaned back and looked at him, cupping his cheeks. “I’m not ready to stop yet.” You whispered and bit your lip.

“Get in the back.” He started to help you off of him and you both clambered into the backseat. “Lay on your back this time.”

You did as Jisung asked, laying length-ways on the backseat and spread your legs for him. He cursed under his breath as he knelt between your legs, bending them up so your were almost folded in half. You could feel Jisung’s cum oozing out of you. “Quick Jisung, don’t let it slip out.” You begged.

“Fuck…” he pushed himself back inside you with another moan.

“Fuck me Jisung… fuck me harder…” you cried. Jisung picked up the pace, fucking you hard. “You feel so good, Ji… please don’t ever stop.”

“Never gonna stop…I love you.” He panted, squeezing his eyes closed. You didn’t know if he was aware that those words had slipped out, but you pulled him down on top of you and wrapped your legs around his waist. You wanted his body weight on you and as much sweaty skin to skin contact as possible.

“Only want you, baby. I meant what I said…just now.” He leaned up on his elbows so he could watch your face while he continued to thrust into you. “I’m in love with you.”

He closed his eyes closed again as he chased another climax. “Come with me…plea-”

You walls gripped Jisung like a vice as you came again with an intensity unlike you’d ever felt before. “Come in me again, Jisung…” You begged “I love you too.”

Jisung’s hips stuttered as he released himself deep inside you again. “Fuck….” He cried and collapsed on top of you.

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to break the bubble of bliss you were basking in. This had been so much better than your fantasies. This was real. This was love.

“Jisung?” You eventually spoke. Jisung propped himself on his elbows again.

“Yeah, baby?” He pushed a strand of hair off your forehead.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to handle the consequences of wearing that cologne everyday?” You smirked.

Jisung grinned. “We’ll have to wait and see, won’t we. I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”

The end.

————————-

@its-hannjisung I hope you enjoyed your story 😘 I enjoyed writing it 😍

@channieandhisgoonsquad @lyramundana @chansmanda @2chopsticks2eyes @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @noellllslut @antoniorhinothethird @bethanysnow @kbitties

[restlessmaknae]

sun, star, moon // sung hanbin

When you start university, everything is new and scary, until you find your safe haven in a cosy corner café and a cute barista working there.

➳ Characters: barista/uni student!Hanbin x uni student female!reader/you

➳ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff, uni au, barista au, slice of life

➳ Words: 2.9k

➳ Warning: mention of food, stress

➳ A/N: This story was very much inspired by Hanbin's tattoos (the title might have hinted at that...), and even though there's some info out there about what they mean to him, this story is purely fictional, so the explanation in the story is also just part of the storyline.

Also, thank you @dat-town for bearing with me while I was gradually falling for this boy 💕

➳ Taglist: @dat-town, @s00buwu

It was spring when you first met Hanbin.

You had your first semester at university, all nerves and excitement, looking around the unfamiliar city and being in awe at how different it was compared to your hometown. Apart from visiting your grandparents in different cities, you had never travelled much, let alone spent time away from your parents. It was exciting and terrifying all at the time, and you didn’t really know how to be an independent and responsible adult (the one that you should have been), but you tried your best to find your footing.

After orientation week, your very first class was at 8am which meant having to grab coffee to keep you awake after tossing and turning in bed for hours the previous night, not knowing what to expect on your very first day. You stayed at a student accommodation a bit further from the city centre, and there was a cosy little café on the corner, so you hopped in to get your daily dose of caffeine before getting on the bus.

As you stepped inside, the little bell above the door signalled your arrival cheerily, and the sweet fragrance of freshly baked goodies wafted through the café. You stepped up to the corner, and while the boy in front of you was making his order, you examined the hand-written menu on the chalkboard behind the counter, pondering over what to get.

You were next in line in no time, and as the boy stepped aside, you found yourself face-to-face with the barista who smiled at you gently. There were no dark circles around his eyes despite the early hour, and his cheeks lifted slightly when he was smiling. He ruffled his jet-black hair when a few stray locks fell into his eyes and blinked at you patiently.

“Good morning! What can I get for you?” He inquired politely as he stepped aside, so that you could see the chalkboard behind him better. You smiled at him, grateful, already making up your mind about your order.

“Good morning! I’d like a medium almond latte and a…” Your voice trailed off as you looked at the pastry display counter, wondering if you should get something to munch on between your morning classes. There were a few baked goods that you had never tried before and they looked heavenly, but you wanted to stick to something familiar for the sake of your stomach on the first day of the semester. “An almond croissant to go, please,” you added, and looked back up at him, only to find his smile widening upon your order.

“So a medium almond latte with an almond croissant,” he noted, but there was a playful edge to his words which made you realise that it must have sounded pretty funny. You weren’t crazy about almonds, but you liked almond latte the most, and that croissant seemed really good.

“Yeah, that’s it,” you bobbed your head, your heart warming at the sight of his smile, before telling him that you would pay by card. While he was preparing your order, you tried not to stare too much, but it was difficult when he had such kind and gentle features. Anyone who looked at him could tell that he was a good-willed person, plus, add his broad shoulders, toothy smile and delicate features to the mixture, and boom… it was impossible not to look at him while he was busy concentrating on doing your latte, his dedication written on his face.

When he caught your gaze, his lips curled upwards timidly, and you couldn’t tell whether he was more shy or you were. You were sure that your face flushed, but you hoped that he deemed that it was because of the slightly warmer temperature in the café, not because of him.

“Here you go,” he said as he put the cup of coffee and a paper bag with the croissant on the counter in front of you. “Have a lovely day!” He wished with a tender smile when you reached for the goodies, and you reciprocated it, wishing him the same.

Little did you know, that was just the first of your many morning encounters with him.

It was summer when you realised that you had fallen for Hanbin.

Throughout the semester, the little café had become your favourite spot around your student accommodation. It was where you got your morning latte, and it was where you worked on your assignments when you needed to get out of your small room to not get crazy there. Hanbin didn’t work every single time you were there, but the other baristas were just as kind and friendly. You also got to know that the woman who sometimes worked behind the counter was Hanbin’s mother, and she was also the one who owned the café. When you talked with her, you realised where the boy had gotten his kindness and consideration from.

On the other hand, when Hanbin was there, you always felt a bit more safe, a bit more comfortable. You couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him - maybe his gentle smile or the way he gently patted your back to wake you up when you fell asleep on your laptop or the way his voice was like a lullaby, something that could envelope you in its warmth -, but you couldn’t go against what you were feeling. You just didn’t know whether he felt the same way about you because he seemed to be equally kind to all the customers.

Hanbin was a university student too, yet he helped out at the café whenever his schedule allowed him to do so, so it wasn’t rare to see him going to class or to come from class when you were already there. Since you usually saw him in a neutral coloured shirt with an apron in front, you never really paid much attention to how he dressed, but when he was off-work, he wore cotton shirts, light cardigans, casual jeans and such. He looked good in everything though.

However, on the very last day before you would go home for the summer break, Hanbin offered to walk you back to your accommodation. You hadn’t planned on staying past opening hours, but you had managed to doze off while scrolling on your phone, and the boy had to wake you up, explaining that it was time to close the shop altogether. Since it was late, he suggested walking you back, and despite your initial protests (that it was a well-lit street, that it wasn’t that far…), you gave in.

As you walked side by side, you stole a few glances here and there, and that’s when you noticed it… he wore a V-neck shirt this time, something that exposed the front of his chest a bit, and you couldn’t help yourself from noticing the tattoos on his skin. When he caught you staring, he also looked down and let out an audible ‘oh’ sound.

You immediately jumped in to apologise.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I just thought you had something stuck on you, I have never noticed that you have a tattoo…” You justified hastily, your voice trailing off at the end when you saw the boy’s laid-back expression. He didn’t look frustrated or amused, he looked how he usually looked, and that put your mind at ease. His following words even more so.

“It’s okay. I had it made there on purpose, it doesn’t bother me.”

Truth to be told, you had never been curious about others’ tattoos, but the sun, star and moon symbols on him made you wonder why he got those specific symbols. You didn’t know whether you had the right to ask about them, but since Hanbin was still looking at you, as if he was expecting you to say something more, you decided to go for it.

“What do they represent to you? If you don’t mind me asking, of course,” you clarified immediately in case it was a personal topic to him, but he didn’t seem offended. If anything, he seemed glad, and as you were walking under the dim lights of the nearby street lamps, the silence occasionally overthrown by the noises of traffic around, he let you know about the answer. How he believed that there’s light, darkness and beauty in everything, and how the universe was always there, watching, and he believed in it, that certain things happened for a reason as part of the universe’s calling.

You were in awe, not knowing how to profoundly phrase what you wanted to say to him, and he must have misinterpreted your silence because he added a few seconds later:

“I know it may sound silly…”

“No, no, that’s like… so beautiful that you think that way,” you voiced out, and you weren’t sure that you got your message across, hence you continued. “I also believe that what’s meant to be will happen, and that the universe has its own ways to make things happen.”

Hanbin smiled gently, somewhat relieved, and you reciprocated it, thinking that maybe this too… maybe him too… they were all part of the universe’s plan.

It was autumn when you started getting closer with Hanbin.

The leaves might have turned, but your feelings for Hanbin had not changed, if only they had grown more. The truth is, the only thing you had forgotten about when you had bid your goodbye prior to summer break had been to exchange contacts. Since you had seen each other multiple times a week at the café, there had been no reason for you to stay in touch to keep the other updated about your days. On top of that, even though you had tried to look up his name on SNS, there had been quite a few Sung Hanbins, and some accounts were private while others didn’t have a profile photo.

So you had left it at that, clutching onto your memories with the boy, catching yourself daydreaming more and more often during the summer. Those months had never seemed so long before, and you had wondered whether you had crossed his mind as much as he had crossed yours. Your heart had fluttered whenever his wide smile, gentle voice or considerate actions had come to your mind, and it had been funny how he hadn’t even been there, yet, you had felt as shy as if he had been there in front of you.

With the autumn semester finally starting, your feelings came back in full force, heightening when you met at the café again. It was heartwarming how - despite the months without seeing each other - the place still felt like your little safe haven and how his smile still triggered the same reaction from you.

Afterwards, you cherished each and every meeting, each and every smile, each and every giggle and each and every slight touch. The boy also picked up the habit - or rather continued - of walking you back to your accommodation if he had the chance to do so, and you wished that walk could have been longer for it always felt like such a short span of time that you could spend together. Until he suggested going to a dance festival with him, and there was no turning back from there: you started hanging out outside of the café too, visiting the riverside on weekends, visiting exhibitions, attending concerts, going to the cinema and checking out other cafés and restaurants. Anything and everything that came to your mind, and that you thought the other would enjoy.

All because by that point, you knew each other well enough to suggest such things.

It was winter when you became official with Hanbin.

Even though the weather had become colder, your heart had never been warmer. Being with Hanbin was like constantly being bundled up in a warm blanket, being taken care of and feeling all fuzzy. He was the epitome of a comfort person: whenever you felt down, he was there to listen to your concerns, he was there to cheer you up when you were questioning your choice of major, he was there to wake you up when you fell asleep on your notes at the café, and he was there to keep you safe from careless cyclists passing by on the walk to your accommodation.

Since both of you were university students - albeit went to different universities -, you could bond over group project members that annoyingly slacked off, professors that seemed to get stuck in the past century with their presentation style, exam questions that seemed to ask the most unnecessary details from the hundredth slide and so on. It felt like sharing the same experience, and even if you studied different subjects and went to different institutions, that was just one more reason you enjoyed talking to him. He could talk so enthusiastically about topics that interested him (when it seemed like there were stars dancing in his big, bright eyes), and you loved his optimistic mind-set and hard-working personality.

However, both of you needed to let off some steam from time to time, so this particular week, you decided to walk to the top of the Namsan Tower, to take in the view of the vibrant city and its shining lights (including the Christmas decorations the city was dressed in since the beginning of December).

“Ah, I feel so out of shape,” you breathed out with a semi-nervous giggle as you were making your way up to the top. You did have weekly aerobics classes at uni, and you did walk a lot, but it seemed tiring to reach the top on foot, maybe because of your big coats and the slippery ground.

“We’re almost there. Hang in there!” Hanbin cheered you on with his hands balled into fists and a bright smile that reached his eyes. You smiled back at him, and maybe it was because of the dazzled state you were in or the uneven ground beneath you, but you felt your feet slip, and if it hadn’t been for Hanbin reaching for you, you might have fallen onto your back.

“Are you okay?” The boy asked, worry painting his features solemn, and you hated to see that tight line of his lips, so you bobbed your head right away and reassured him that you were fine. He seemed to believe you, but still didn’t let go of your arms. Instead, he slipped his fingers into yours, and pulled you with him as he took the next step towards the top.

You were thankful that you were dressed up warmly, your fluffy scarf covering half of your face, because you were sure that you were flushed like crazy. Even though you had been progressively more intimate with each other - you squeezing his hand when he was talking about something vulnerable because you noticed that it helped him to feel better, him wiping your tears when you broke down in front of him when you were questioning your choice of major, him placing his hand on your back to keep you from falling when a stranger pushed past beside you on the escalator, you helping him with his necklaces when they stuck on his shirt and slightly grazing his skin -, you had never hold hands like this before.

You made your way to the top while holding hands and staying close to each other, and it was definitely worth it. The view was stunning, and as you were taking photos of the scenery, tiny little white flakes fell from the sky.

“Hanbin, look! It’s snowing,” you shrieked excitedly like an overzealous kid, and grabbed one of the snowflakes that melted in your hand in no time. You really didn’t expect this, especially with such perfect timing.

“It’s the first snow,” he noted with a childlike smile that mirrored yours. For a few minutes, you just stood there, watching in awe how the objects and the scenery around you got a thin layer of white - like frosting on a cake.

Then, when your eyes met his, you couldn’t stop smiling. It was truly beautiful, and that warm, fuzzy feeling was there yet again, sending tiny little fireworks through your body. These feelings exploded even more when the boy stepped up to you, and helped to tuck your hair into your beanie and under your scarf, so that your locks wouldn’t get attacked by the sudden snow.

Your heart was hammering away rapidly, and you felt like you could burst any moment as he still just stood there, not stepping back. When he just kept looking at you like that, eyes warm, smile warm, hands warm, you didn’t have it in you to back away either. Instead, your lips pulled into a smile when his fingers slipped down to your hands, and he intertwined your fingers.

“I like you, y/n,” he confessed in that kind, caring voice of his, and there was no use doubting his words. His eyes spoke for themselves.

“I like you, too, Hanbin,” you answered within a heartbeat, and in that moment, you knew.

The universe was really watching.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for ZB1 or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[soulofapatrick]

Enchanted Pages - Jameson Hawthorne x Reader

Summary: Jameson joins you in the Hawthorne estate library

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: none

Notes: I hope the anon requesting Jameson likes this! It was fun to write!!

Y/N's POV

The Hawthorne mansion library is a sanctum of wisdom, a hallowed ground where the scent of aged paper and the soft whisper of turning pages permeate the air. The room is vast, its shelves towering like ancient sentinels guarding the knowledge within. The mahogany bookcases stretch from floor to ceiling, each shelf adorned with leather-bound tomes that seem to hold the secrets of centuries.

I sit settled in a plush armchair, my fingers delicately tracing the embossed spine of a weathered classic. The soft glow of antique lamps casts a warm hue on the room, highlighting the ornate patterns of the Persian rug beneath my feet. The crackling fire in the hearth adds a touch of comfort, its flickering dance a silent companion to the tales contained in the countless volumes that surround me.

My gaze sweeps over the library, absorbing the grandeur of literature that spans genres and eras. Shakespeare stands shoulder to shoulder with Austen, while the poetry of Frost beckons from a distant corner. History whispers from dusty tomes, and the works of philosophers, both ancient and modern, share space on these sacred shelves.

The sheer magnitude of knowledge captivates me, and a sense of awe settles in my chest. Here, in this haven of words, I feel a connection to the countless souls who sought solace, inspiration, and escape within the pages of these books. It's as if each volume holds the echo of the minds that once dared to dream, to question, to imagine.

I had choosen a book at random, its spine cracked but well-loved. As I open its pages, the scent of history mingles with the musky perfume of aged paper. The words transport me to another world, a realm where time is fluid, and reality is shaped by the strokes of a writer's pen.

Before I can really get into it, the rhythmic click of polished shoes on the library's hardwood floor interrupts the quiet symphony of the written word. A familiar scent wafts towards me, a subtle blend of cedarwood and a trace of old books—Jameson's unmistakable fragrance. Without looking up, I feel the magnetic pull of his presence drawing near. The rustle of pages and the soft creak of the chair next to me signal his arrival. Jameson, with his tall and lean silhouette, leans against the bookshelf. His dark eyes, reflecting the wisdom accumulated through countless narratives, are fixed on the pages before me. 

”Finding solace in the tales of the past?" he inquires, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His voice, a velvety timbre, resonates with the same richness as the literary treasures that surround us. 

I glance up, meeting his gaze, and invite him to join me with a nod. Jameson gracefully moves to the arm of my chair, a place that feels both familiar and intimate. His fingers, cool and elegant, find a stray strand of my hair, wrapping it around his digits absentmindedly. It's a subtle gesture, one that transcends the boundaries of mere physical touch. Each twirl of my hair seems to weave a connection between us, binding us in a shared moment within the tapestry of the library. 

As he sits beside me, the warmth of his presence envelops like the embrace of a well-told story. The characters in the book come to life, their struggles and triumphs mirrored in the unspoken understanding between Jameson and me. The juxtaposition of the fictional world and the reality of his touch creates a beautiful paradox—a seamless blend of imagination and tangible connection.

Jameson's fingers, light as a whisper, move to ghost over my cheek. A shiver courses through me, a response to the delicate caress that seems to bridge the gap between fiction and reality. The characters in the book, once mere ink on paper, now witness a narrative unfolding before them—the story of two souls drawn together by the invisible threads of connection. His touch deepens, his fingers hooking under my chin with a gentle insistence that demands my attention. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he lifts my gaze, and suddenly, I find myself ensnared by his eyes—dark, fathomless pools of green that hold the weight of a thousand stories. Time seems to stretch, and the distance between our faces becomes negligible.

My breath hitches, caught in the delicate dance of anticipation. The paradox of our connection intensifies—the very real presence of Jameson Hawthorne and the fictional worlds we explore converge in this suspended moment. In his eyes, I see reflections of characters who have loved, lost, and found redemption, mirroring the silent tale unfolding between us. 

As our faces draw closer, the boundary between reader and character blurs, and I become a protagonist in a story that transcends the pages of the books that surround us. The library, once a haven of literature, transforms into a stage where the chapters of our own narrative unfold.

In the charged atmosphere of the transformed library, Jameson's voice, low and laden with an emotion I can't quite decipher, breaks the silence. "You don't know what you do to me," he confesses, his words hanging between us like a promise written in invisible ink. His fingers, delicately holding my chin, tighten ever so slightly, an anchor in this moment. In the depth of those fathomless green eyes, I sense vulnerability, a rare glimpse of the man behind the enigmatic exterior. 

The anticipation lingers, and then, with a tenderness that defies the rough edges of his life, Jameson leans in. His lips brush against mine, a touch so gentle it's as if he's unraveling the layers of his guarded self. The kiss is a revelation, a tapestry of emotions woven with threads of longing and a touch of sweetness that catches me off guard. 

I taste the rich complexity of him, a blend of desire and restraint, as if every stolen moment has led to this, a communion of souls beneath the watchful gaze of literary giants. His kiss tells a story—a story of passion restrained, of emotions laid bare in the quiet expanse of a library transformed into a stage for our intimate narrative. 

As our lips continue their passionate dance, each touch becomes a stanza in a poem of desire. The flame ignited by our connection dances through the chambers of my heart, casting a warm glow that reverberates through every beat. In this stolen moment, I become a keeper of Jameson's story, feeling the weight of the untold chapters that reside in the recesses of his being. The dance of tongues is a language of its own, a symphony of whispers and sighs that transcends the limitations of words. In the quiet library, our connection becomes a narrative, written not in ink but in the shared breaths and lingering echoes of our kisses. 

Then, with a tantalising slowness, Jameson pulls away. The separation is a breathless pause, and in that moment, I catch a glimpse of a blush colouring his cheeks—a rare vulnerability that adds another layer to the enigma that is Jameson Hawthorne. His eyes, still reflecting the fire of our shared passion, hold a depth that defies easy explanation. 

A tender smile curves his lips as he leans down to kiss the crown of my head. His lips press into my hair, a silent promise and a gesture that speaks volumes. The library, once a stage for the intensity of desire, now becomes a sanctuary of shared intimacy. 

He settles back next to me, the warmth of his presence a comforting embrace. A smile lingers on his lips as he presses them into my hair, and I feel the echo of our shared moment lingering in the air like the fading notes of a beautiful melody. The pages of the book in my hands wait patiently, as if knowing that our own narrative has become a story worth telling—a love story written in the quiet corners of a library that has witnessed the blending of passion, literature, and the tender moments that make life extraordinary.

                           ┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈

TAGS: New Tag List Form

The Inheritance Games Masterlist

[crooked-haven]

Cake | Taekook Smut 18+

➭ Pairing: 'Top' Kim Taehyung x 'Bottom' Jeon Jungkook

➭ Rating/Genre: Smut 18+, Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

➭ Warnings/Tags: Taekook Husbands, French kissing, Groping, anal, male receiving, teasing, boy on boy, male anatomy, rough, degrading, slapping, unprotected sex, cross dressing, hair pulling, choking, (wear protection irl plz) Jungkook is a brat and whining mess (again).

➭ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are purely coincidental. Also this is my story so please don’t steal!

➭ By: Serendipity_haven (Taexxgukkie & Crooked-haven)

Word Count: 1k

•Author’s POV•

A tall slim figure walked down the carpeted staircase, and quickly rushed to the kitchen. He threw the white laced apron on over his matching white crop top, and pink skirt. This was his favorite outfit, well more like his husband’s favorite outfit. He immediately began grabbing the ingredients he needed from the cabinet, combing through his fluffy black locks, all while mixing up his cake batter. After a few moments, the front door clicked open and in walked his lovely husband, Taehyung. Jungkook too immersed in his cooking didn’t even notice his handsome husband.

Taehyung then walked into their shared living room, sat down on the couch and sighed in despair. He had a tough day at work, he was incredibly stressed and overworked, he even had to fire a few employees today and that always upsets him. He untied his tie, and threw it on the coffee table. He began to get lost in deep thought when the sound of a metal crash caused him to jump up. He ran into the kitchen just in time to see his pretty husband bent over, his plump ass right on display. “Aish~” Jungkook whined in annoyance. He had dropped the batter bowl onto the floor, causing it to go everywhere and make a huge mess.

Taehyung’s breath caught in his throat and he knew exactly how to relieve his stress. Jungkook gasped when he felt arms snake around his waist, he would have been terrified if it wasn’t for the very familiar Gucci fragrance that filled the room. “Tae, I was making you a cake and I ruined it” Jungkook said sadly while melting into Taehyung’s warm touch. Taehyung didn’t answer, just kissed his nape gently. “I really wanted to make you a cake” Jungkook said in a pouty voice. Once again Taehyung didn’t answer and just laced the youngers neck with kisses. “Mmh~ Tae?” Jungkook tilted his head to the side and Taehyung bit his neck and sucked harshly, oh how he missed his warm skin.

Jungkook let out a low moan and turned around to face his husband. “It’s okay Kook, I have a different cake in mind” Jungkook didn’t understand until Taehyung roughly turned him around and bent him over the kitchen counter, lifting his pretty pink skirt up. He roughly squeezed Jungkook’s right ass cheek which caused a little moan from the younger. “Tae!” He said in slight embarrassment, although this isn’t what he had in mind, he wasn’t complaining one bit. Taehyung let out a sigh, this time in contempt. “I have done nothing but worked my ass off, I deserve this cake Kook” Taehyung huffed out followed by a slap against his buns ass. “A-Ahh~ Tae do it again please~”

“Okay, If you say so” Taehyung then proceeded to slap his buns already pink and red ass two more times before hooking his slender fingers on his blue laced panties, yanking them down, exposing Jungkook’s puckering hole. He licked his lips and smirked at the pretty sight, running his fingers against it. Jungkook let out an impatiently soft moan. “I see you have already prepared yourself for me like a good little slut hmm?” He then slid three of his fingers inside the pretty hole with no issue. “Ahh~ I-I just couldn’t help it” Taehyung grabbed the youngers black locks with his left hand, and held the edge of the counter with his right, he then lined up his dick with the soft pink hole, and pressed his chest to the back of his needy baby.

Jungkook squirmed in his embrace, moving his hips to cause friction against his pretty ass. Taehyung leaned forward, biting his buns ear and whispering in his raspy voice. “Beg me again you dirty little cunt.” Jungkook moaned loud. “P-Please fuck me please~” Without any hesitation or warnings, Taehyung snapped his hips forward and bottomed out completely. After a couple of seconds Taehyung stood straight, still keeping his grip on his buns pretty hair and began thrusting in a slow and steady pace, he shut his eyes, rocking his hips and enjoying the feeling of his long dick inside his favorite cake, but the peacefulness soon came to an end when Jungkook started whining, loudly and without his permission.

Taehyung opened his eyes, yanked Jungkook up to partly stand, repositioned his right hand to wrap around snugly against his buns warm throat and spoke harshly. “Did I tell you, you could moan!?” Jungkook gasped but answered nonetheless. “N-No I’m s-sorr-“ he was cut off by Taehyung fastening his thrusts, the jolt pushed him forward against the cold counter and he held himself up by his arms. His face contorted with pleasure and his toes began to curl, he knew for sure he was going to cum if Taehyung continued to use him like he was. Tears threatened to fall down his flushed face, and he tried his best to warn his husband. “I-I c-um-“ Taehyung grunted shoving him forward some more and nearly growled out.

Taehyung gripped the youngers throat tighter and started pounding into him. “Cum right now! Cum on my dick you filthy bitch!” Jungkook’s eyes rolled back in pleasure and he came while choking on his tears, dirtying the counter and his front skirt even more. Taehyung groaned out, he too was close, and to that he continued thrusting himself deep inside his love. Jungkook’s arms and legs gave out causing him to fall forward against the cold countertop and even though his mind was numb from the overstimulation he had a fat smile because he knew what he was about to get. Taehyung bit his lip harshly, and after a few more thrusts he emptied his icing inside his cake. “Ahh~” They moaned at the same time. Taehyung smirked and licked his dry lips and after a few moments of silence he cleared his throat and spoke as he pulled out. “Time to eat my cake”

End ♡︎

A/N:

So first I want to start off by saying, this was supposed to be one of my more detailed smuts, and when I finished this the first time I got a little too excited and accidentally deleted half of the story, so I had to rewrite it from memory and mine is horrible, I will say it's still pretty good, but I am super disappointed in myself, nonetheless I hope you all enjoyed anyways and requests are open.<3

[perflorale]

Fragrances I think Margaery Tyrell would wear…

Delina by Parfums De Marly

Ok, so I have three rose perfumes on this list for Margaery, because A: She’s a classy lady and what is more the embodiment of class than a rose? B: I love roses. C: House Tyrell’s sigil is literally a rose, D: I love roses. I don’t think we need any more reasons than that. So let’s move on, this perfume house, I mean there's a reason parfums de marly has boomed in popularity as much as it has, their fragrance collections, from the bottles down to the juice, are just the embodiment of beauty and class. So there are exactly three perfumes in this Delina line. Delina, Delina Exclusif, and Delina La Rosée, they are all rose focused perfumes, rose is the main character in all of them but the original has the most florals in the notes so i decided to go with the original Delina since Margaery gives me the vibe of being a floral lover. I can see her also wearing the flankers of this depending on her mood, but I picked the original to be her main since there's more of a floral party happening in the notes. So house tyrell of high garden, rules over a region in southwestern westeros which is noted to be highly fertile land and highly populated. So this has me thinking Margeary would adore perfumes that are floral or give a vibe of spring. Spring is a fertile season and everything is in bloom, so she would have a preference for scents that smell elegant and lush. I have only seen the television series and in almost every scene she was present, the weather or vibe was never cold and harsh so i can’t see her wearing something rich or cloying like a gourmand for example. Her choice or taste in perfumes would lean very floral, if i can imagine her smelling like anything it would definitely be flowers. Another interesting fact is that Delina is a popular choice for many brides, it’s a popular wedding scent and our girl margaery gets married three times, if my memory serves me correctly. I think this would be her pick for her second wedding to Joffrey. It’s light, it’s feminine, it’s sweet, it’s unassuming and that’s exactly how Margaery wants to come off to the Lannisters. She doesn’t want to step on any toes. She wants to be subtle and calculating with every move she makes, and this perfume is perfect for that because it is non threatening. It’s just feminine and demure and that’s exactly how this woman wants to be seen, or rather needs to be seen if she’s going to play the game. So now we arrive at the notes, the top notes greet you with a juicy burst of lychee, rhubarb and bergamot they give it a sweetness, and a sharpness there's a spicy kick from the nutmeg so the opening is quite lively then it settles in the middle with the florals, we have Turkish rose, peony and petalia which are delicate almost powdery florals all wrapped in vanilla and musk this combination is light and creamy. The middle notes, especially with that rose being the main character here, give this perfume it’s notorious feminine elegance, which I think are qualities Margaery highly embodies. Now we get to the base notes where this perfume gets very fascinating, we have vetiver which is known to be a masculine leaning note, this grants this fragrance an assertiveness despite it starting off as quite demure, tell me the way these notes are layered on top of each other isn’t representative of margaery's mask and how we are slowly unravelling the mastermind beneath the doe eyes. Beside the vetiver we have cedar, incense, and cashmeran. They give this perfume such depth and margaery isn’t just a pretty face, she has depth and she’s making big moves to secure her place on the throne. This fragrance remains to be one of my favourites to this day because of its feminine complexity, and I think it is so Margaery. This perfume has bright girly and sweet notes at the top and middle which is the image she so very well wants to be known for, the impression she wants to make on others, the deeper notes at the bottom I think are reflective of her scheming side, and also represent how she felt around Joffrey. Definitely a wise choice wedding scent for the purple wedding.

À La Rose by Maison Francis Kurkdjian

Alright, so for the second choice I went with something extravagant but not as complicated in the notes as our first choice. This perfume is gorgeous and is one of my favourites from this house. Another rose based perfume, as evident in the name but this one feels more simple than Delina. I feel this would be Margaery’s choice for her third wedding to Tommen. He was sweet to her and she felt safer with him, so she would go for a simple fragrance that is honest and doesn’t have all these complex layers to hide behind. I know I keep calling this perfume simple, but trust me that is not a bad thing. It is one of my favourites and if you are a rose lover like myself, you would indulge in this too. Again, it’s very lush and I think this perfume is best suited to warmer weather and like the price of the bottle, it smells expensive. It is said that the perfumer behind this fragrance, Francis Kurkdijan, said that each bottle is made up of 250 centifolia roses, and 150 damasca roses. So if this isn’t a rose explosion in a bottle, I don't know what is. And what is more fitting for house Tyrell? We have bergamot and california orange greeting you at the top, the bulgarian and grasse rose notes taking centre stage in the middle accompanied by other light florals such as violet and magnolia, and everything is enveloped in sensual musk and cedar giving this fragrance the clean, effortless and classy femininity it’s so known for. She would definitely wear this to her second wedding and it would be more obvious that she’s feeling more relaxed and happy because this perfume does just that, brings your mind to a safe space and makes you feel beautiful and feminine. I definitely associate this perfume with positive memories and feelings and i am sure it would do the same for Margaery.

Atomic Rose by Initio Parfums Privés

Now we’re taking a more darker elegant tone with rose. This perfume is an ambery rose, and definitely what I would class as a deeper rose compared to the first two perfumes. Where the first two have a youthful elegance, this one is more sensual and deeper. This perfume has intense projection and lasts you forever. This is a sophisticated fragrance and it is the most assertive on this list, hence the name atomic. It really encapsulates the beauty and danger that is House tyrell. Because every rose has thorns, and this perfume is just that with it’s projection. I feel this would be a perfume Margaery would spray on to feel powerful. Top notes include, pink pepper, hedione and bergamot and the opening has a kick to it, the middle notes are soft florals, bulgarian rose, turkish rose and egyptian jasmine and the base notes offer it it’s warmth with vanilla and amber. Definitely a “Don’t mess with me.” kind of perfume and something as thorny as this is fit for a lady trying to secure her place on the throne.

Fox In The Flowerbed by Imaginary Authors

We’re taking an unexpected turn now. This is now a change from the rose focused perfumes on this list, however I have kept it true and consistent with this still being a floral. I have decided on this one after debating the many other directions I could have gone in because it reads very Margaery to me. Imaginary Authors is a cruelty free brand that takes their inspiration from stories and authors, hence the name. If you are a book lover or you want something cruelty free, I recommend giving this brand a try, they have many unique perfumes and all of them have an interesting story to tell. Margaery is a clever and well read or well informed lady, and we need a perfume that is as clever as she is. So my choice was this. Foxes are quite stereotypically known to be sly, and clever and they are basically the living breathing form of “working smarter and not harder”. Being the cunning beauty that she is, if this perfume isn’t Margaery, I don't really know what is. The fact that it’s called “Fox in the flowerbed” is almost alluding to hiding behind an innocent mask of sorts, in this case the flowerbed being the mask and the fox being the wearer. Kind of like the “Wolf in sheep’s clothing” idiom. I also like how the bottle is this baby blue and looks very happy and bright. We often use colour to portray character and mood, especially in media. The villain often sporting darker colour palettes in opposition to the hero etc. Margaery’s signature colour is a light blue or some shade of a green which not only match the branding of the house of Tyrell, but also these colours are non threatening, which you would want to appear as, especially when manipulating the shit out of a house as domineering and powerful as house Lannister. Which brings me to the scent and the notes, this perfume is very airy. The juice smells just as “innocent” as the bottle looks. I’d describe it as a bright dirty perfume. Happy and bright yet very earthy in quality. The Jasmine gives it this dirty edge but not in an unpleasant way, more of in a natural way. The honey and pink pepper notes really sweeten and brighten this fragrance. There are also very green notes, thistle being one of them and the tulip which is a floral that leans quite green and fresh when compared to other flowers. We also have a frankincense note in here, it adds a sort of mystery to it (I love me a good Olibanum note.) especially when in contrast to the unique mountain air note in here that provides to it a crisp freshness. This perfume is both bright and calm. Can I describe a perfume as ambiverted? Haha, it’s strange because it has the perfect balance of bright and serene notes. It can calm you and uplift you. This is for the girl who wants to be perceived as innocent but can play dirty, and I think this description is Margaery to a T. This fragrance isn’t heavy or overwhelming at all, don’t let that jasmine note fool you. It is actually very light and can be an everyday fragrance. It’s airy and floral, I'd describe it as earthy air in a bottle. Very refreshing and pleasant.

🌸 As always if you want to see more fragrance match ups for characters you love or for yourself, hit me with an ask! 🌸

[malavera]

Low Profile (18+), pt. ii — Tom Cruise

↳ you’re a successful singer who’s secretly a Sugar Baby to the biggest movie star, Tom Cruise.

summary: 2 months earlier before hell went loose, you and Tom went to Lake Como for a small getaway to enjoy yourselves.

pairings: Tom Cruise x Singer!Reader

warnings: undisclosed relationship, mature content, fluff, smut, public (but secluded) oral f/receiving, squirting, age gap (reader is 25 tom is 59), pet names (princess), dd/lg elements, daddykink.

w.c: 2891

a/n: please do keep in mind that THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, any places mentioned, time and events are all fiction. I do not own tom cruise (i wish i do). this series will contain 18+ contents most of the time, minors DNI!

read part 1 here

“What do you have in mind?” His deep raspy voice mumbled through the phone on your ear. Your hands playing with the hem of your dress, your eyes darted back and forth watching the situation in the studio peeking from your sunglasses as you think to yourself what would be the perfect place to getaway from all of this workload. Every once in a while people would need to get away and heal just for a good hour before they go back to face the reality ahead of them.

Then you remembered, you’ve always wanted to visit Lake Como in Italy. You’ve seen pictures of it from Pinterest or Tumblr, how wonderful and seemed so magnificently magical. It’s almost too good to be true. A week later you told your manager how you needed to fix yourself a getaway, alone. She offered to come with you, but you politely declined as you assured that you’d be going with a very dear friend of yours. You also wished that you have a full day off, you don’t want to be bothered, nor the internet needs to be informed about your whereabouts.

Here you are, head on his broad shoulders, snuggling around his arms on your way towards the hangar for to get on his private jet. The smell of his signature fragrance breeze lightly through your nose—felt like being at home. The warmth that he projects, the touches, the sweet words it’s nobody’s fault if your heart desires to wish for more, more than what you have right now.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but it’s just for 15 seconds. Okay?” The first 3 months were fine, you were intrigued by the excitement—the feelings were mutual while it lasted. Now, it aches your heart as you watch him handing your sunglasses and your scarf to cover up your face. As if on default, your body reacted normally and quickly put on the disguise. Tom, of course, is not stupid. He knows you’re starting to hate these kind of things, but he couldn’t help it any other way. He’s aware about the danger to this relationship if it breaks out to the world, and little did you know—he’s not thinking of himself out there, he’s thinking about you. He knows the majority of your fanbase across the world will look at you with a side eye, at least their parents would as the majority of your fans are younger age.

Tom always finds a way to distract you from your own thoughts, Throughout the long flight, you both pretty much enjoyed yourselves with you warming his cock. Having his hard cock inside your cunt without doing anything for a good 15 minutes to, even possible, 1 hour, is one of many things that is your favorite when you’re with him. Aside from he could just fuck you right there, you feel more connected as he’d get vulnerable with you—for some reason, maybe he felt connected with you more though no pun intended. He’d excitedly talk about his upcoming movie projects, and you’d ask him about his old movie projects for example; You had a movie with Brad Pitt and I read that you complained he had a bad odor, was it so bad? When it was your turn to talk about something, he couldn’t really give you time to talk about anything because when it was your turn, he’d find you adorable explaining all of your big singer gig and music project he couldn’t help but to thrust his hips slightly here and there—that’s where you’d get flustered, fisting his dress shirt and have your eyes fluttered shut feeling his cock.

Turning off the hairdryer, you softly place it back to where it belongs before you brush your thick hair smoothing them out. You sighed to yourself, applying chapstick to your plump lips then joining him in the bedroom as he laid there shirtless with only a jogger around his hips, arms crossed behind his arms flexing his chest watching the local channel. Of course, he owns a Villa here and you couldn’t feel more happier, safe, and content for it is his private manor, and no one would bother both of you.

Unwrapping your robe to reveal your bare breasts and a soft pink panties, Tom peeked to stare at you with a tiny smirk on his face as well as yours. He loves it when you’re almost naked as it gave him easier access to play with your breasts while cuddling. You sighed pulling the blankets up, Tom uncross his arms behind his neck shifting into an open invitation to cuddle against his chest.

“What do you want to do first thing in the morning?” He mumbled in your hair, kissing your head.

“Mm, I don’t know. You be my tour guide, daddy.” You mumbled out an answer while rubbing your eyes with your knuckles. Tom chuckled and went to kiss your forehead,

“You feel so soft, baby. You smell good too.” His big calloused hands went wandering around your body, caressing your arms then to your collarbone, down to your chest—massaging your breasts. A smile formed on your face with your eyes closed.

"I'm tired, Daddy. Can we do this in the morning?"

Tom smiled, "Alright, baby. Get some sleep, I'm here, I'm not going to leave you."

Your heart melts in your chest, your smile falters slowly, you could only pray to god that despite the undisclosed relationship and how wrong it is, you hoped that there comes a day where you could be flaunted in his arms to the world as you could finally say it's me and you against them.

Of course, you didn’t plan this little getaway trip only to feel melancholy and other things that you shouldn’t be overthinking. You’re with him, and that’s all that matters. Morning came by pretty soon that you thought, you woke up to a smell of the burnt Blueberry Pancakes and a hint of the sweet maple syrup. You peek one eye open before adjusting your blurry vision to reveal he had prepared a tray full of breakfast. You gently rub your eyes before sitting up to look around the room for him, you noticed how he opens the door to the balcony—the breezy wind breezes into the room, that unfamiliar fresh air runs through your nose giving your heart at ease. A note was propped against the cup of coffee as it reads,

Out for a small meeting with McQ, be back before you know it.

Of course, everywhere he goes, he would have his crew around with him. You huff in annoyance, crumbling the piece of paper and toss it away. You thought this would be only just the two of you, away from the reality like you wished to. It’s a bad trip already, you thought. You tried to not let your annoyance gets in the way of you and him enjoying this trip, but you couldn’t help it, either way you’d be a brat.

Sitting outside of the Vila at the backyard that leads straight to the beautiful lake, just need to take a couple of steps down and you’d have your own private swimming pool. You plan on getting in the water but Tom just came back and better yet, he’s talking on the phone while you sit there, annoyed, with your legs crossed while flipping through Vogue.

“Do you want to see the market? They’ve got good spots and you can take your Instagram pictures.” Once he hung up his phone, he placed it down on the clear glass rounded table and pulling his chair closer to you.

“No, I won’t be posting any pictures.” You mumbled.

“Okay, how about a small cafe not far from here? It’s my favorite they’ve got-”

“McQ or anyone of your crew’s going to be there?” Tom clamped his mouth shut receiving your snap. You’re upset, tilting your head biting your tongue in the corner of your mouth staring at him while your hands kept flipping the magazine pages on your lap.

Tom’s shoulders slumped, a soft sigh escaped from his lips. He understood why you’re giving him attitude, it was his fault anyway. “Princess,” Oh he’s calling you using your favorite pet names now huh.

“I know you’re upset, you have every right to be. But, you don’t have to worry about anything, they’re not staying. Even if they are, I promise you they won’t be in our away..” Tom coaxed, wrapping his hands behind your knees as he kneeled in front of you. You kept your ground, your lips pursed still in annoyance.

Tom sighed once again before he put himself back om his seat. “How about this,” He started. You turned your attention from the view to him. “You’ll have full control of my phone, for these 3 days. I’m all yours, Princess—I promise.” Tom assured, pushing his chin down, his eyes burning into yours.

“How does that sound to you?” You tried to suppress a smile but fail either way, your arms slowly uncrossed before nodding your head vigorously.

“That sounds like a deal, Daddy.” Bright smile displayed on his face before you jumped to sit on his lap, hugging him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim."

At last you could finally feel at ease, throwing your head back, a sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose, your elbows propped to support your body relaxing on the ground. Striking a pose for your Sugar Daddy as he took the photo using your phone, a smile on his face as words of encouragement sounded from his lips. Your heart felt giddy in the moment watching him act like a paparazzi taking your pictures, it's a hot day outside but both of you didn't mind it at all.

"Here, Princess." Tom handed you your phone as you gently set it down beside your stuff.

"Come on, let's jump into the water. Get on my back."

"Uhm- Are you sure? I think it's pretty deep, besides it's been a while since I went swimming, I'm afraid my body forgets how to float." Tom laughs shaking his head before he grabs you by your hand pulling you up to stand on your feet.

"Don't worry, Princess. You'll have me, just hold on to me. I promise you, it's shallow, you'll land on your feet."

Boy, that was such a big fat lie once you get on his back as he jumped into the lake with your eyes screwed very shut. As both of you dived into the water, your legs tried to find the bottom where he said you could land on your feet but failed because the lake was not shallow. You swam up to the surface with your heart thumping in your chest, gasping a breath before Tom follows.

"YOU LIED!"

"SEE, YOU FLOAT! There's no way your body forgot how to." Tom laughed.

You grunted, splashing the water at him. "It's not funny! What if my body did forgot how to float?!" You exaggerate. Tom is still laughing, wiping his face before he swims closer to you, holding your body.

"You're silly, that wouldn't happen, you big baby."

The water was mineral clear, it was cold but it felt nice against your skin. You and Tom basically became kids again, at least for him. You both had a challenge who could hold their breaths longer, play tags, goofing around until you didn't realize it's almost afternoon. You swam towards the steps as Tom follows behind you. Setting your palm against the surface to lift yourself out from the water, before sitting down on it.

"What do you think we should eat?" You asked, gathering your wet hair before squeezing the water out.

"I have something in mind." His voice low, his hands set on your knees, spreading them gently as in default, you adjusted your seating position and Your elbows propped on the higher steps.

"I want a taste of this." His thumb went to caress your soaked bikini, a smile pulled on your face.

"Here?"

"Mhmm.." Tom nodded his head, his eyes set on your pussy before his hands went to untie your bottom. You help him by lifting your ass up as it would be easier for him to discard the clothing off from your hips. He tossed it behind you as it landed on the ground, turning your head back to watch him get in between your legs. Tom puts your legs on his shoulder, his fingertips went to caress your naked pussy—teasing your clit.

"Mm, Daddy.. Do you think it's a good idea to do this? What if someone sneak into your manor and took pictures of us?" A worry started to rush inside you, you know it won't happen but you like to overthink the unthinkable situation, as it didn't even happen.

"No need to worry about anything, Princess. Now, shh. Let daddy have a taste." Tom mumbles before he dives into your flesh, his tongue gliding from the bottom to the top, as he sucked on your clit. A gasp earned from your plump list, as your head throws back, your eyes fluttered shut rolling to the back of your head. His tongue game is definitely something, it never fails to bring you the euphoria.

Especially now, the thought of being watched by someone, whoever hides behind the bushes or the walls, or even if there's a helicopter passing by—watching the way Tom Cruise eats the young singer's pussy in the pooling steps, somehow excites you know. The worries had gone away, consciously you challenge anybody out there to watch you getting eaten out. He nestled against your thighs as his hands caress your waist before they wander up to your breasts giving them a massage.

"Oh fuck, daddy.. That felt so good.. Please give me more." You whine out a plea. Tom pulled his face away from your pussy, his eyes bore into yours as you watch him gather his saliva using his fingers before he glides them over your pussy.

"Tell me you need my fingers to cum." Tom growled, flicking his fingers against your clit.

You squeaked, your thighs almost clamped against each other but Tom stopped them. "I need your fingers to cum, daddy. Please!" You moaned.

A smirk on his face, shoving two fingers inside your cunt earning out a loud gasp from you. Tom started to curl his fingers at a slow pace, moans escaped from your throat, your hips started to move to create more friction, you spread your legs wider—if you could watch yourself, this is such a porno situation. But, you love it. You watched the way his bicep flex as he shove his fingers inside you. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration, eager to get something out of you.

Tom increased the pace of his fingers, before he dives back into your pussy playing with your clit using his tongue. Porn sounds watered down from your lips, you couldn't stop staring at the way his jaw moves up and down sucking in your pussy, the familiar tight knot feeling appears in your stomach and Tom knows you're almost reaching for your orgasm.

"Come on, princess." Tom growled against your pussy, the boom from his voice sends vibration through your body, his tongue flicking nonstop.

"Shit! Daddy!" You shrieked, your legs lifted straight up in the air, your thighs shook and with one final glide from his warm tongue, his face are greeted with a spray from your pussy as you squirted out your orgasm. Tom moaned drinking in your fluid, his fingers still thrusting inside you as you ride out your orgasm.

Fuck, I just squirted out to the lake, You thought. Tom must've read your mind as he is taking in the way your eyes widened, your chest heaves, your eyes stares away to the lake. He lets out a small laugh before wiping his face.

"Come on now, Princess. Let's get you something to eat."

Memorizing it as you swiped through the pictures in your phone, you couldn't help but ache. You miss him, it's been 2 weeks and he's back into his reality. Busy as ever, he barely texts you nor call you. You have to understand though, after all,

You don't think he's really yours.

"Y/N, there's a package for you. Here." Your manager came into your room, setting down a medium sized box on your table. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion as you set down your phone to reach for the box.

"Who is it from?" She asked, nudging her head.

A note was attached to it as it read,

I know you miss me,

here's something to keep you company for a while. — D

The way your lips tugged to each corner your Manager got the hint as it is probably from someone very dear to you. She rolls her eyes with a silly smile before leaving you alone, shutting the door on her way out. You bit your lip once you hear the doors closed, unwrapping the ribbon on the box.

A gasp sounded from your lips, a silly smile plastered shaking your head side to side.

"Such a naughty old man."

It's a replica of his cock as a dildo.

——————————————————————————

tagging:

@deanscroissant

@helloitstsyu

@tomsf18

@call-sign-shark

@moondustfairies

@katherineswritingsblog

@elenavampire21

@gypsymoon548

@lynnsthoughts

@joeltheegoodson

[angelic-dew]

yandere akaza headcannons !

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍫 ୧・request :: " I really liked your yan kokushibo headcannons, can I get akaza, doma and gyutaro next plss?? "

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🍰 ୧・author's note; Just a reminder, I went through a "mood", as usual, when writing these so be prepared. Btw anon, sure but imma do them in parts, I just like doing my yandere! hcs individually. To get the others they'll be posted here when done. <3

✧༉‧₊˚୨ 🌷 ୧・pairing; akaza x g/n reader (you/your pronouns.)

✧༉‧₊˚୨ ✖ ୧・trigger warnings; body mutilation, threats, kidnapping, isolation, mentions of jealousy, death, hatred, manipulation, gaslighting, stalking, bad grammar, delusions, over-protective behaviour and gore.

⚝. Just a reminder I don't tolerate nor do I encourage the following topics in reality; I like keeping it strictly to fiction.

꒰🍰꒱. Now this was simply nostalgic. It sent him down a far and wonderous trip down memory lane when he was a human, so weak and fragile was he; he remembered the love of his life and the spark which he felt coarse through both of their bodies back then. However, it was different this time, much stronger, much more tempting and had much more control over him.

꒰🌷꒱. You, a petite, meager, little human he could practically tear apart in minutes made him feel what he thought he'd never feel again. Just from one encounter, you did that. He couldn't shake you off though, recalling the very few moments of your meeting made his heart melt in his chest. Your adorable glances, the way your eyes glistened with utter fear but yet they were so mesmerizing! you were truly out of the ordinary.

꒰🍰꒱. It was as if the bittersweet fragrance of lust followed him around playfully every time he laid his soft, golden eyes on you; his gaze strong and never daring to shift off of your exquisite physique for even a moment for every second was priceless as he watched you ever so carefully from the depths of the dark shadows. You were just so divine!

꒰🌷꒱. He watched you, intaking your presence from afar and just from that he felt like he went to the seventh heaven. As his luminescent, enthralling pupils glowed solemnly and created a soft glow within the ebony darkness; they only focussed on the most captivating treasure though, you. The most fluorescent and alluring flower the world has ever bestowed upon.

꒰🍰꒱. However, there were others, weren't there? Akaza knew someone as angelic as you had others who wanted to steal you away from him! He was a powerful demon after all, if they only knew that upper moon three places his piercing watch on you first, they would have definitely backed off by the hook of the crook.

꒰🌷꒱. But they didn't and they were innocent in their doings! Akaza knew that they were not weary that they were attempting to steal something which wasn't of their possession, unaware of the consequences; that is. He knew to a T that this was bound to happen. But he was driven by jealousy and envy, yet another feeling he couldn't shake off. It coursed through his already boiling blood.

꒰🍰꒱. Don't get me wrong, it's not like he wanted to partake in violence; but it was to be expected and he truly wasn't timid to get rid of his rivals, or should I say obstacles? As soon as he observed said problem talking to you while he was preoccupied watching you at night, as usual; its when the envy hit it straight and direct. If only looks could kill.

꒰🌷꒱. He feels betrayed by you in some way or form. You were supposed to be his! But things happen, don't they? He'll simply put the person back in their place, nothing as angelic as you could do any wrong. Therefore, even though he knew their intentions were nothing but filthy, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

꒰🍰꒱. He was torn between a rock and a hard place though. As much as he wanted to tear them limb from him, he did feel guilty that they were leading themselves to their own demise by just interacting with his angel. How selfish Akaza.

꒰🌷꒱. Sadly, his envy does have the upper hand in the end. Upper moon three takes them away at night for hours upon end of none stop torture, and he made sure to be sloppy with them.

꒰🍰꒱. Taking his ever-sweet time to deeply tear apart their delicate flesh with his sharp, razor-like pearly whites; creating large gashes and lacerations to their once blemishless skin. The oozy, irony yet succulent taste of their crimson-red blood running along his taste buds as he relishes the flavor in delight. Akaza loved the cries of agony and terror his unfortunate issues had to face at his cold-blooded hands.

꒰🌷꒱. Mercilessly, he'd begin to tear at their limbs, toying with their ligaments until it was pulled clean off with mere force; the only thing remaining was a bloody torso. The bone of the freshly mutilated limb playing a game of messing hide and seek within the muscles and meaty flesh of the wound. How sadistic. The victim was still conscious, slowly bleeding to their death. To add salt to injury, he grinned and lunged his strong hand through their chest and tugged at the strings of the heart before crushing it to bits within his palm.

꒰🍰꒱. Now this wasn't a common thing, but it did happen from time to time. It did make those wonder who lived in your village, soft sounds of pain were heard but they were all played off as delusions.

꒰🌷꒱. Akaza didn't think to kill off your family though, he knew the value of them. But one or three relatives would end up in the missing papers at one point; sooner or later, how could he even resist?

꒰🍰꒱. At one point he gets sick of actually looking at you, yes you're majestic but he wants to feel your warm body against his. To finally feel what its like to be with someone he loves and it doesn't take him long to do this, his patience grows thin quickly ever since he started watching you from afar. So he did what he had to do.

꒰🌷꒱. He appeared to you at night and you immediately recognized the towering figure which stood in front you. The same fear welled up within your eyes as he spoke up rather boldly, telling you how he felt at last that faithful night. Confessing how you drove him insane and that he needs to feel you! To have you at his right hand! To have you all for his selfish wants.

꒰🍰꒱. He wasn't the one to take no for the answer if you rejected his request to be with you, and for a matter of fact? You didn't have a say in this, your rights have been revoked. This wasn't to be a choice, it was meant to be something you had to go through.

꒰🌷꒱. So he took you, no matter if your bargained or not, it was in vain for he wasn't foolish. Your screams and cries weren't heard either, he kept a firm hand over your mouth. So cold! However, his heart was beating more than he could ever imagine as he held you against his body, your warm touch lingering on his as a faint blush spread across his cheeks from your sweet voice entering his ears. Just inhaling your scent was by itself wonderful.

꒰🍰꒱. Akaza knew you had to be isolated, he found some abandoned cabin in the depths of a dense forest and made a home for you there. For now, this shall be where you rest with him for all your years.

© angelic-dew :: please don't re-claim or translate without permission! <3

[morallyinept]

Heyday Hero - A Valentine's Story - Mature!Marcus Moreno

This is a story set in the Heyday Hero Universe. You might wanna read that one first if you haven't already.

Summary: Marcus pulls out all the stops to make your first Valentine's Day together really super!

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature/CurvyF!Reader (No name of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader is of a similar age to Marcus, who I have made 52 in this story, and Reader is more on the curvier side in body type. Otherwise a blank slate. Images for aesthetic, no reference to Reader.)

Word Count: 7.2k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Both Marcus & Reader have REAL bodies, and very real middle age spread/coming to terms with ageing & feeling obsolete.

Explicit: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/fingering - Marcus has superpower hands���️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love/all the flowers and pancake mush you can swallow/Marcus being the perfect, romantic fool

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine's Day, lovelies! 🥰 I just had to revisit these two love birds on this heart day. Love you all so much! 😘

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

HEYDAY HERO <- Main Story

Enjoy! 🖤

The early morning Austin sun casts a warm glow over Marcus's garden as he ambles among the clusters of vibrant blooms swaying gently in the Texan breeze. 

Clipping blush peonies with thoughtful precision, his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Missy and you; the two women in his life showering him with more love in abundance than he could ever wish for. 

Fragrant petals whisper to him in the gentle flurry, carrying the promise of a special day he’s woken up to. A day that, for so long, had seemed so mundane - another day ending in a Y. So pointlessly lonely. Just ordinary in his solace without a partner to share the topical mushiness with, even if it was rife with capitalist sentiment sponsored by the fat cats at Hallmark. 

Lost in contemplation as he prunes and snips at stems, Marcus's thoughts are a blend of affection and giddy anticipation, and he can’t wait to see his daughter smile as she inhales in the perfumed fragrance of the florals he’s chosen just for her.

Despite the lack of a romantic partner since the passing of his wife and Missy's mother, his Valentine’s Days since were about showering Missy with love and appreciation, something that she initially resisted, stomping into her unruly teens and it being branded “uncool” to spend time with her father fussing over her as she was reaching maturity.

But he still upheld that tradition nonetheless.

Now a headstrong woman in her thirties, she could appreciate that effort and often sought it out willingly as she would snuggle in closer to him when watching a movie together after a hard day of fighting the world’s enemies and threats, and he would smile as she fell asleep snoring into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, and subsequently leaving a patch of drool on it.

But as much as the superhero father-daughter duo loved one another, Marcus missed the companionship of a partner he could shower with hopelessly romantic sentiment and love of a more intimate kind.

That was until he met you.  

Over the course of the last six months, yours and Marcus’s relationship has bloomed and flourished, much like his garden, evolving into a softly hedonistic timeline woven with shared experiences, laughter, and genuine affection. 

Despite the exciting journey you’re both on, you both carry unspoken anxieties that occasionally cast shadows on the picturesque canvas of your budding romance.

Your dates were a delightfully regular mix of adventures - whether exploring museums, cozying up at home with a homemade dinner and a classic movie, or exploring the wonderland of nature.

And Marcus still can’t get your first meeting out of his mind. The date that solidified it all for him.

He was mesmerised by you, and still is, fearing some days he’ll wake up and realise it’s all been some wondrous dream where he subconsciously created and crafted you from the moulds of his inert loneliness. 

He glances over to the sun loungers by the pool, and his cock pulls tight in his jeans, remembering the two of you sat in one together, listening to your words as you read from your book to him, only a few days ago as the sun set into a fiery orange sky.

He can smell the scent of your skin again now as the tepid heat warmed it as he had you in his arms, basking in the dying rays as he buried himself inside of you from behind. His nose running tracks against the back of your neck as his fingers drew circles on your clit, bringing you to soaring heights without ever leaving the ground.

With the book discarded to the patio, his big hands were resting and stroking on the crinkles of your tummy skin as he whispered how beautiful you are, nipping on your earlobe as the sky blushed above you, an expansive voyeur to your lovemaking.

The gentle, yet enthusiastic, pace of your relationship allows you to savour each moment, creating a foundation of tentative understanding and trust. Yet, as the seasons change, the passage of time invokes subtle insecurities that bleed in uninvited.

It’s human nature, he supposes. Marcus, a retired superhero, whose body had once effortlessly defied gravity, now finds himself grappling with the harsh realities of ageing. The occasional ache and stiffness serve as reminders of the physical toll his heroic past has taken on him.

You, too, are confronted with your own insecurities when you stand in front of the mirror, naked after a shower, and notice things aren't as supple or as perky as they used to be. The mirage of eternal youth begins to dissipate, sands falling in the glass, replaced by the acknowledgement of lines that trace the stories of your laughter, and the gradual changes of a sinking gravity that comes with the eventual movement of time.

As the months towards his retirement from the Heroics had unfolded, Marcus began to notice the subtle changes in his body - the creaky echoes of years spent in the pursuit of justice. The once effortless movements that defined his superhero heydays were now accompanied by a quiet reminder of the toll taken on his physical form. 

Morning stiffness became a familiar companion as Marcus greeted the dawn - a stiffness of a different, less exciting kind.

The pops in his joints were like a cacophony of irritating reminders, a natural clicking chorus that played out, despite him being an unwilling conductor, as he rose from his bed. Aches manifested in areas that once bore the brunt of intense physical exertion.

His shoulders, which had once easily carried the weight of the world, now bore the imprints of past struggles. Welted, faded scars of times when he came close to exchanging his life so others could live, adorned him. White, little lines of jagged lightning against the golden skin that you would run your fingers or tongue over, bringing about a sensual healing in the layers of his marred epidermis with your explorative and worshipping ministrations.  

On some days, Marcus found himself pausing to stretch, a conscious effort to ease the tightness that settled into his muscles. The warm-up routine, once a prelude to high-flying acrobatic adventures, now became a ritual to navigate the nuances of a body shaped by years of gritty heroism.

Yet, despite the stark, physical reminders of ageing, Marcus approached each day with resilience and a quiet acceptance. The aches were not signals of defeat but rather markers of a life well-lived, a testament to the now grey hero who had faced challenges head-on and emerged with stories of grandeur etched into the fabric of his being. 

Observant and empathetic, you stood by Marcus's side as he navigated these physical aches and pains on the mornings you woke up together.

Your gentle massages and understanding glances spoke volumes, creating a space where the vulnerabilities of ageing became threads that wove you both closer together. 

He thinks back to the way your hands glide over his body and soon distract him from the aches to another ache weighing heavy between his legs. The more pleasant vareity of morning stiffness.

His ears are soon filled with your gasps and moans as he zones out under the morning sun, thinking back to mornings waking with you wrapped around him as he slipped inside you and worked you both out. 

In that tranquil corner of the garden, surrounded by the coveted peace of nature, Marcus confronts the uncertainties, but the happiness he feels quells any of that self-doubt in an instance. 

The kitchen, the epicentre of Marcus’s world now, soon becomes a hub of activity as Marcus sets about creating a special morning feast on the day of San Valentín.

The aroma of homemade pancakes fills the air, mingling with the scents of freshly brewed coffee and tarte fruity berries. The vase of peonies adorns the table, adding a touch of colour to the special breakfast spread he’s prepared all morning with love and care.

As Missy enters the kitchen, hair damp and bedraggled, the mild surprise melting away the sleep in her battered eyes, Marcus can't help but beam.

"Happy Valentine's Day, kiddo," he says, presenting her with the hand-cut bouquet.

Missy's eyes light up with unbridled joy as she accepts the vase of flowers with a kiss on the side of his fuzzy face. "Dad, these are beautiful. Thank you."

“Only the best for my muñeca. Sit, I made you some breakfast.” (Doll.)

“You’re not having breakfast with your lovely lady?”

“We’re spending the rest of the day together. I've made plans.” His eyes light up as he says it, pouring out hot coffee.

"Sneaky." Missy smirks.

“This morning is just for you and me.”

“Makes a change not to see you two half-naked and draped all over each other. You know, these walls are paper thin.”

“Shut up.” Marcus says, evidently blushing. 

“I ought to file a complaint, I’m sure it violates some building code… loud noises.”

“Or you could just stay at your place?” He suggests with a grin.

“Pffft. That’ll never happen.”

In the days leading up to Missy and you meeting for the first time - which was inevitable really considering how often your paths had almost crossed with Missy using her key at any God given time of day - Marcus hadn’t been able to shake a lingering sense of angst. He found himself caught in the crossroads of two important relationships intermingling in his life, and the fear of you both not getting along tugged at the edges of his erratic thoughts. 

As he’d prepared the house for your official get-together, Marcus couldn't help but second guess his decision. What if you didn't hit it off? The worry gnawed at him, the uncertainty of your connection becoming a lead weight on his broad shoulders and making him feel somewhat nauseous at the prospect of facing a choice.

He tried to distract himself with preparations, arranging a small dinner, which soon became over the top due to the stress-cooking that ensued, and ensuring the atmosphere was comfortable. 

But every now and then, a wave of anxiety washed over him despite Missy reminding him that he was worrying over nothing. 

If she makes you this goofy, Dad, then I already love her… Missy'd remarked as he clattered about clumsily with pans. 

When the hour finally arrived, Marcus did his best to hide his apprehension despite his squally gut. As Missy and you exchanged greetings, he observed your interactions with a hopeful, yet anxious, heart.

The initial moments were filled with small talk, and Marcus found himself holding his breath, waiting for a sign that you were connecting, and shucking in deep breaths of oxygen when you subtly reminded him to breathe, observing him turn a shade of purple and giving his thigh a reassuring squeeze.

Of course, Marcus needn't have worried - Missy and you got on like a house on fire.

Laughter began to flow naturally, and conversations unfolded effortlessly. The tension in Marcus's shoulders eased as he witnessed his daughter and new partner finding common ground, especially in teasing him, it appeared.

Marcus smirks as he places a plate under Missy’s nose. 

“Heart-shaped, chocolate chip pancakes? You trying to woo me, Dad?”

“Just showing the love for my amazing daughter.” 

“Why, what are you after?” Smiling, she pours the raspberry syrup over the stack.

“Nothing. Just want you to know how special you are to me is all.” He mumbles quietly with pink cheeks frazzling under his thick rimmed specs.

"Your love is causing me to gain five pounds." She muses.

“What’s that?” He asks, nodding over to the skin on her shoulder now revealed as she ties back her hair.

She glances down at the rather large and angry bruise and back at her father’s concerned eyes. 

“I can handle it, Dad.” She reminds him as he visibly tenses. 

“I know. But I’m always going to worry. Even if you are a Moreno badass.” 

She laughs and then sighs, pulling her cardigan on and covering up the bruise. “Comes with the territory, right?"

He nods, sadly. "It does."

Missy picks up her fork to dig in and then hesitates. "Did you... did you ever have those days when you thought about throwing in the towel?”

Marcus nods again. “All the time.”

As Marcus reminisces about his past, memories of battles lost and wounds endured flood his mind like unwelcome guests crashing a solemn reunion. There were moments etched in his memory with the vividness of fresh lacerations - times when victory had slipped through his fingers like sand, leaving behind scars that ran deeper than mere flesh and bone.

“How did you keep going? How did you… find the strength?” She sighs and Marcus can only helplessly observe the features of her own face, young, but carrying that weight of the world is starting to age her quicker than he would like.

He remembers the deafening roar of explosions echoing in the night as he fought valiantly against insurmountable odds, only to find himself battered and broken, his spirit and pride bruised more than his body.

There were battles where the enemy's strength seemed limitless, where every blow landed with the force of a freight train, threatening to crush his resolve beneath its weight.

In the aftermath of defeat, Marcus found himself questioning everything he had once believed in. The wounds he bore were not just physical; they were a reflection of the doubts and insecurities that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness.

He considered putting away his katanas many, many times, walking away from the life of a hero and leaving behind the chaos and destruction that seemed to follow in his wake.

But even in the darkest moments of despair, a flicker of hope remained - a stubborn ember that refused to be extinguished. It was the memory of those he had sworn to protect, the faces of innocence that haunted his dreams and whispered words of encouragement in the depths of his despair mid-fight.

Marcus leans over the counter on his arms and pinches a raspberry from Missy’s plate. 

“For you. I wanted to make the world a better place for you to grow up in. Safe.”

Missy smiles like a dim bulb about to burn out as she eats. “You did a pretty good job of that, Dad. I've had some big shoes to fill.”

He smiles, running his tongue around the raspberry pips now lodged in his teeth. 

“You’re doing great, kiddo.”

He reaches for another raspberry and she bats his hand away as he chuckles. 

“You know, you’re the only man who's ever gotten me flowers…” She says a few minutes later, eyeing the fluffy heads with a slight dip on her face, and Marcus can’t help but furrow his brow in unison.

Missy looks up at her father with twinkly eyes that mirror the melting chips in the pancakes. “I love you. You know that, right?” 

“Te quiero mucho, mucho.” (I love you very, very much.) He nods as they eat together. 

“I should get going-” Missy states after she finishes her plate, which only seems to be after a few hefty shovels.

“No, stay.”

“As much as I love being a third wheel, it’s Valentine’s Day.” She reminds him. 

“Hey.” Marcus takes her elbow gently. “You know this is your home, you're always welcome here, no matter what. I always want you here.”

“I know. But you guys should do the whole love thing today. Alone.” 

“What about you?” He asks, concerned at the thought of Missy sitting alone in her apartment on the most love-filled day of the year. 

“I’ll be fine.” She assures with a tight smile. “Might see if Miss Starlight or Renegade wanna hang. We can all be lonely and miserable together.” She snorts. 

A thoughtful pause follows before Marcus tentatively broaches the idea. "Have you ever thought about giving online dating a try? You know, like the dating app profile you made for me? I hear it’s all the rage these days."

Missy raises an eyebrow, a playful grin forming on her face, "Dad, are you suggesting I join the world of swipes and emojis? Because that ship has long sailed. I’m knee deep in dilfs on the regular." She grins.

Marcus chuckles nervously, "I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Probably best.”

“Well, I mean, it's one way to meet people. You might find someone who appreciates your eloquent wit and charm."

“Don’t forget the potty mouth.”

“That too,” he smiles. “I know what it’s like. Being the world’s hero leaves you somewhat… lonely. I don't want that for you.”

Missy nods contemplating. “I’ve been giving it some thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you two seem really happy together. I guess I miss having that sometimes.”

Marcus, feigning surprise, replies, "Really? Well, I guess you can thank your old man for staying on top of the trends and leading by example."

Missy rolls her eyes playfully, "Oh, I will, Dad. You're my dating app guru now."

“Hardly.” He scoffs.

“This is true, you lucked out on round one. You didn’t get to kiss any gnarly toads or do the walk of shame.”

“The walk of shame?”

“I'll tell you about it when you’re older some day,” Missy quips with a grin. 

There’s always a subtle restlessness, a physical awareness that manifests in the anticipation of your next meeting.

The memory of your kiss lingers on his lips, he can still taste you long after you're gone, and the mere thought of your touch again sparks a warmth that courses through his veins, burning him up from the inside.

His body has changed so much, and yet you make Marcus feel like he’s young and nubile again when the butterflies begin to flap around, and that tingle surges deliciously down the length of his cock.  

With a sense of heady excitement and a touch of mystery, Marcus decided to plan a special surprise for you for Valentine’s Day.

One that he hopes you won’t forget in a hurry. 

He arrives at your place, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and the breath torn from his lungs as he beholds you opening the door with that gorgeous smile just for him. 

Every time he has the chance to see you again, whether for a planned date or an unexpected visit, Marcus feels a powerful surge run through him, making his fingers crackle with a pulsing intensity that makes them buzz almost uncontrollably. He doesn't bother shaking the feeling away anymore, instead he revels in it.

The moments leading up to your regular reunions are filled with a blend of eagerness and a touch of nervous anticipation, as if each meeting holds the promise of uncovering something new and extraordinary.

In those stolen glances and shared moments, Marcus discovers that missing someone can be a beautiful ache, a testament to the depth of his feelings for you, absent hearts and all that spiel. 

An ache that is soon satiated when you open the door and smile at him like he’s the only man in the world. 

His lips find yours almost instantly as you grasp onto his broad shoulders in the doorway, the pair of you almost toppling through in your desperate haste. The soft groans that escape him makes your blood throb inside your veins.

His tongue slips into the comforting home of your mouth, and you feel it over every nerve ending in your body, tingly and visceral. And not just from his crackly fingertips.

“Hey you,” you eventually manage to sigh into his plush mouth, feeling the silk of his greying beard smoothing against your cheeks. 

“Hey, mi Dulzura…” (Hey, my Sweetness) he murmurs dreamily as he plants delicate kisses along your jawline and inhales the scent of your perfume. It’s the vanilla and jasmine one he likes so much when he can smell it lingering on his pillows. 

He’s all hands and enthusiastic smooches the moment he sees you. Unable to abnegate himself away from the basic needs of touch and affection that you give back to him in equal abundance.

You can't get enough of one another. 

You feel his large hands squeeze your hips gently, and your body flares as he pulls you in closer to him, crushed right up against his stacked, warm chest as he kisses you more with a heated groan. 

Reluctantly pulling away he suggests, "How about we go on a little adventure today? I've got something special planned."

“You spoil me, Mr Moreno.” You cluck, running your hands over the soft leather jacket adorning his arms. 

“Always,” he confirms with a grin. “You look great, so beautiful,” he says, eyeing your tight jeans and pretty floral shirt combo. 

“As do you, you scrub up well.” You marvel at the jeans, leather jacket and green t-shirt he’s casually adorned in, pulling tight in all the right places. You stroke over the soft swell of his tummy as you lean in for another kiss.

He pulls something silken out of his pocket and you glance at it with raised eyebrows. “May I?”

“Kinky shenanigans planned on my doorstep?” You query as you allow him to blindfold you. “The neighbours will love that…” You giggle.

“Even better,” he whispers into your ear salaciously. 

“You hound.” You swipe out playfully to him, but miss when you can’t see anything at all now.

“Woof.” He growls, pausing to nip on your lobe and revelling in your desperate whine in response.

After a short drive through town, Marcus finally pulls up. "Trust me, you're going to love this," he assures as he guides you out of the car.

He carefully leads you along a path, each step heightening the sense of anticipation. As you walk blindly, his arm around your waist, and your hand holding tightly onto his other, you can feel his own sense of excitement as it buzzes into your skin with those pleasant tingles and crackles.

“Just a little further.” He assures as he pushes open a door and you step through to inhale a moistness in the air; a balmy heat that’s different from the outside that settles into your pores. 

“Where are we?” You question with a jaunty, excitable tinkle. For a moment, the smell reminds you of a swimming pool.

“Just wait…” You can hear him grinning. 

When you reach your destination, Marcus removes the blindfold, unveiling the breathtaking scene of the Austin botanical garden before you.

The vibrant colours, the fragrant blossoms, and the serene atmosphere creates a picturesque display that leaves you in absolute awe.

You’re surrounded by flowers in abundance, the scent of them driving you wild as they all scramble to make you smell their perfumes first. You’re even more stunned to find it all completely empty.

"Welcome to the botanical garden.” Marcus says, tucking the blindfold into his leather jacket pocket. “It’s one of my favourite places.” 

“Wow!” You smile, turning a full three-sixty as you take it all in. “You know, I’ve always been meaning to come here. I don’t know why I haven’t before…”

“I thought we could spend the day here," Marcus announces with a grin. “Look,” he points over to a small set up of a picnic on a grassy area under an intricate arch of purple orchids in the shape of a heart.

“Looks like a giant purple heart emoji.” You smile at him. 

He nods, eyebrows wiggling above his specs.

“You really know how to romance a girl,” you smile, stroking under his chin. 

“I booked this place out just for us.” His hands slide down your lower back pulling you into him. “We’re completely alone…”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We have the whole day here, if we want.”

“I want. Very much.” You nod and pull him forward by his lapels for a deep kiss. 

“I don’t know what to say,” you smile, cupping his cheeks and gliding your nose over his. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, mi Dulzura. Feliz Día del Corazón.” (My Sweetness. Happy Heart Day.)

He kisses you, gently nipping onto your lips as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. 

The air is filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers as you stroll together along lush pathways, surrounded by an array of captivating plant life.

The Orchid Pavilion, the base for your picnic, is adorned with hanging baskets of intricate orchids, showcasing a kaleidoscope of colours - from delicate pastels to vibrant hues. 

After eating together, an array of home baked, sweet treats Marcus had prepared himself, you wander through a section adorned with curtains of exotic orchids, and Marcus can't contain his enthusiasm as he takes on the role of your personal tour guide.

A role he takes very seriously, much to your amusement. 

"Did you know orchids have a fascinating way of attracting pollinators? Some mimic the appearance and scent of certain insects to lure them in. It's nature's way of flirting, I suppose." He rambles excitedly.

You chuckle, finding Marcus's nerdy fascination endearing. "Flirting through flowers, who would've thought? Tell me more, Mr. Botanist."

You continue your fascinating journey, hand in hand, and Marcus points out a cluster of carnivorous plants. 

"These are pitcher plants. They have specialised leaves that form a pitcher-like structure to trap insects. It's like having a tiny garden predator."

“Have you got these in your garden?” You query, peering into their tube-like structures, like tiny trumpets in the grasses. He has so many of his own plants it's hard to remember them all.

“No. I do have a Venus Fly Trap though. She’s very bitey.” He nips on your neck making you yelp as he walks you forward. 

“Ah. Audrey II, of course.” You smirk. 

“Of course.” He muses. 

As you reach a serene pond surrounded by water lilies, Marcus shares another tidbit. 

"Water lilies close their flowers at night and reopen in the morning, and they…. what?” He stops to look at you quizzically, noting the expression spreading over your face. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

You shake your head smiling, all teeth bared at him. “You're so sexy when you geek out.”

He blushes beet red and smirks. “Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until we get to the cacti garden. I will be insufferable.”

"Hot." You chuckle.

You meander through a section dedicated to succulents and cacti, where the desert's resilience takes centre stage. The ground is adorned with various prickly shapes and sizes, from the elegant arms of Saguaro cacti to the whimsical arrangements of succulents that seem to defy gravity as their spiky tendrils reach towards the sky. 

The sun bathes this arid landscape in a warm glow through the high glass ceilings, casting shadows that play on the pebbly, sandy ground like a dance of desert spirits conjured by mystical forces.

“You were right, it’s pretty awesome.” You say. 

“Not as awesome as you,” he whispers, kissing you again. 

A serpentine path leads you to the Aquatic Garden, where more water lilies float gracefully on the surface of a tranquil pond. Golden Koi Carp glide beneath the water, adding a splash of movement as you both sit by it chatting. 

The reflections of the surrounding greenery dance on the water, creating a mirror-like effect that seems to amplify the selection of plant species all around you. You dip your fingers into the pool, the fish swimming curiously around at a safe distance, and Marcus watches with a smile that makes his cheeks ache. 

“You like butterflies?” He asks you. 

You nod, smiling as he takes your hand and leads you to the Butterfly Conservatory, a whimsical space alive with fluttering colours of Black Swallowtails, Red Admirals and Cloudless Sulphurs.

Thousands of butterflies dance around, their delicate wings creating a haze of hues that add an extra layer of enchantment to the garden that stuns you into silent giggles at such a place.

“I wish I could fly sometimes.” You smile as the butterflies flit around, some landing on your sleeves as you admire their delicacy with a splendid awe.

You bring your arm closer to your face, your nose wrinkling in delight as the tiny butterfly shows off its wings just for you. 

“Funny you should mention that.” Marcus teases.

You eye him carefully. “What do you mean?”

“I have something else planned for you today. If you’re up for it?”

“I’m always up for it.” You smirk.

“Come on.” He takes you by the hand once more and leads you towards a garden that’s outside and full of roses in every shade of pink and red that exists on the colour scale. 

“This is stunning,” you say, slowing down as you take them all in.

Akin to being lost in the Queen of Heart’s gardens, it takes you a few minutes of wandering back through the maze of rose bushes, interwoven with clusters of pale lavender hydrangeas, to find Marcus handling some belts and clips near a device you’ve never seen before. 

“Is that what I think it is?” You question with wide eyes as you notice the large contraption hovering just a few inches above the grass, whirring silently.

It has two large circular fans and belts that lead from it to Marcus’s waist as he clips himself securely into it.

“You wanna fly?” He queries and you nod enthusiastically, feeling a surge zap through you and your toes tingle in your shoes. 

You feel him navigate a similar belt around your waist, willingly holding your arms out. He runs his nose against your neck as he does it, and you hear him groan in satisfaction as he inhales.

“Mouth watering...” He murmurs as he kisses your skin and your feel it pulse in your core as you clench around nothing. 

You watch as he clips your belt into his and tugs against it.

“Are you ready?” Marcus asks you as you step closer to him.

“No.” You giggle.

“Do you trust me?” He questions with a serious face, thumb stroking down your cheek.

You nod looking into his deep, cocoa eyes. “With my life.”

Marcus smiles at that, wrapping his hands around your waist. “I’ve got you. You’re safe, okay?"

"Okay." You nod, smiling.

"You’re not afraid of heights, are you?

“Bit late to ask me that now,” you chuckle, and so does he. "Are you going to run me through the pre-flight safety checks?"

Marcus smirks. "Hold onto me. That's it."

"Well, shit." You cling onto him as the whirring starts to get faster, the blades of grass blown out into flat circles, and you can feel the belt cinch tighter around your waist as it lifts you both off the ground. 

“Oh my God!” You clutch onto him tighter and he chuckles softly. “This is really happening!”

“Let’s go see the city.” Marcus smiles, placing a kiss on your head. 

Once a soft breeze, the wind grows more ferocious around you, your body becoming free from the reassuring surface of the world.

The wonder in your eyes grows to questionable proportions, and you’re soon completely bewildered at the fact that you're really flying.

He tips forward in a smooth motion so you’re both lying horizontal in the air when the device reaches the desired altitude.

“You ready?”

You nod eagerly as he propels forward with a simple push of his upper body, steering, as you both zoom off towards the Austin city skyline, your giggly gasps ringing in his ears.

Your eyes meet his in wonder as you grip onto him tightly. “Marcus! We’re flying!”

You feel like you’re shouting over the wind whipping against you, eyes wide and gleaming at the sight of the city approaching in a block chart of colour and twinkles of lights. 

It feels colder, but being crushed against his body keeps you warm enough. You’re too exhilarated to feel any change in body temperature. 

You brave yourself to look at the sky above sinking into an inky twilight of orange and cerise hues as the sun sets. 

“Welcome to my world,” Marcus says, nuzzling into you.

You feel his grip lessen and glance at him with alarm, but the look in his eyes convinces you he’s not going to let you fall.

He simply reaches for your hand with one of his, and you drop subtly beneath him, the belt keeping you close as he takes your other hand and you’re spread out beneath, back against his chest, arms wide as they can go as he holds them out parallel with his.

“Oh shit!” You gasp as he flies you both faster, curving and twisting around the breadth of the skyscrapers; your giddy reflection in the mirrors of the glass windows ara a blur as you pass. 

You don’t notice when he lets go of your hands, his arms around your waist instead as your own arms stay out in front of you as you rip through the air. 

“Better than the butterflies?” You hear him call.

“So much better than the butterflies!” You laugh, almost hysterically, as he loops back towards the botanical garden, after a few more laps around the city. 

As soon as you’re back on the ground in the rose garden, a wave of adrenaline surges through you, and you lunge at him with shaky limbs, almost knocking him off balance.

A melody of gasps and breathy pants puff out of your mouths as you kiss frantically through tinctured groans. The whimper in the back of his throat conveying more than words ever need to about his desire for you in this moment. 

Marcus unclips the belts, yanking them off of the both of you with a fumbling fervour, glued at the mouth with you. Clumsy kisses, teeth clashing against one anothers in your mutual haste, as you push his leather jacket down over his shoulders and his fingers eagerly untuck your shirt from your jeans. 

“That was incredible,” you gasp into his mouth, unzipping his jeans. 

“You’re incredible,” he groans as you take his swollen cock in your hand, squeezing and stroking gently as you lavish kisses over his bronzed neck. 

“Oh God,” Marcus moans.

Subtle flicks of your tongue leave him gasping, his hands running through your windswept hair as you make tracks over his chest littered with sparse, greying hairs as you both tumble to the grass and push his t-shirt up further. 

Tasting all the way down his sternum and lingering over the soft paunch of his tummy, a place you always nuzzle against, he glances down at you with a bashful smile.

Then a gentle nibble on his hips before your tongue wanders into the small, neatly trimmed thatch of hairs around the back of this thick, weeping cock. 

“Oh, please…” he whines biting down on his lip. 

You lick up from the base of him, your eyes transfixed on his as he gasps, watching you run up the full length of him to kiss the top of his leaking head gently. You stroke his thighs and he parts them further making room for you as you settle into making out with his cock. 

You’ve mastered the art of taking your time with him, enjoying the sounds that flutter out of his mouth as you take him deeper and deeper. Those unbridled whimpers as you suck fill your ears, and you swear you’ve never heard a more perfect sound escape him. 

It's when you take him all the way down is when he loses his calm, polite composure. 

“Fuck!” Marcus gasps, his head lolling back. “Mm, just like that…” 

You smirk to yourself as you feel fingers knotting in your hair and subtly tugging on it.

“Yeah… so fucking good. Oh my God… Yes.” He pants.

You let him have free reign over your body too, as he buries two fingers inside you and licks you to orgasm. His favourite place is between your legs, his second is a garden. When the two collide, it's even better.

“Marcus, please…” you pant, words tumbling from your mouth as your legs shake.

“Tell me, tell me what you want, mi Dulzura.”

“I want you inside me.”

“Right here?” You feel his buzzing fingers plunger deeper, stroking on that spot that makes your thighs shake harder as you feel the tingles ramp up. “You want me filling you up, hmm?” 

“Yeah.” You pant as he circles your clit. The heavy throb undeniable on it from the crackling in the tip of his thumb.

“That feel good?” He smirks.

You fist the grass, tearing blades from it that stick to your palms as you grasp his face, fingernails digging into his skull behind his ears as your exhale and puff into his face. 

“Oh my God, yes, Marcus!”

His glasses dig into your cheeks as you strain and wail, your breath fogging them up a little.

“Come for me. Come all over my fingers, come on.” He chants watching you, foreheads crushed together as he zaps and strokes harder inside you. 

“Come, mi Dulzura. ¡Dios mío, eres tan malditamente hermosa!” (My God, you're so damn beautiful!)

The Spanish whispers send you over the edge. “M-Marcus!” You cry out, squeezing around his fingers as your whole body shakes; tingles flooding all over and making you feel like you’re still flying, all the way up there in the pale lilac sky above you as your eyes roll back into it.

You feel him kissing over your neck, humming softly muffled words of praise and desire into your skin as your slick coats his fingers just like he wanted.

"So fucking perfect for me," Marcus croons.

“I need you.” You whisper. 

“God, I need you, too.”

His large, perfectly sculpted nose crushes into the side of your jaw as he fills you; your gasps and whines echoing around the rose garden as he slides into your utterly drenched pussy.

He loves how the stretch of you around his cock brings you to orgasm almost right away; a few gentle thrusts as you adjust to his thickness, and you’re shuddering for him, coating him in your slick before he plunders deeper with that gentle, rhythmic pounding.

He loves how you're completely insatiable for one another, despite the ravishes of age rendering your bones heavier, your paces slower.

Despite it all, you still embark on a journey of a healthy sexual appetite, even if you both have to navigate it with a little more preparedness sometimes; it still rocks your world.

He still has it, and so do you. 

“You feel so good,” You whisper to him as he nuzzles into your face. The wind of his hips into yours, hits you at the perfect angle, again and again. 

“We feel so good together,” he breathes with a smile. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you. I don't think I’ll ever stop getting enough of you.” 

You kiss him again as he thrusts a little harder, a little faster. 

The vulnerabilities of being so exposed, so spread before him like this, revealing all the parts about yourself you’ve scrutinised scathingly in the mirror with abhorrence, fade away.

It’s all those wrinkled, stretched, sagged parts of you that he worships with his crackly fingers and tongue. He spends time appreciating them, fawning over them and lavishing them with the attention they so thoroughly deserve as he rolls with you so you’re on top now.

How you watch as your less-than-perky breasts tumble into his face as he pulls them out of your bra, but he licks and suckles at them as his cock notches against your hole and he groans out as you sit on him fully. Running his tongue around those stiff pebbles unabashed, sucking them into his mouth as you grind on him. 

“Come for me…” Marcus pants as he watches that dreamy glaze settle into your eyes as you ride him; that glittery feeling about ready to burst out of your pores as he pushes up with his hips to meet you. “Need to feel you soak me.” 

“Oh shit, I’m coming!” You shake on top of him, gasping. Head thrown back as you rock and grinning as you see stars explode across the sky above you. 

Yeah. Marcus Moreno has still got it.

“That’s it, like that. Fuck, I’m gonna come too! Fuck! Fuuuck!”

Marcus stiffens, his whole body tenses as his hips jerk, and he fills you up. Floods you until he's dripping warm and pearly out of you, all over his soft belly, as you lean upwards to kiss him some more.

Afterwards, as you both lay in the grass half dressed and satiated from the highs of flying and your lovemaking, Marcus reaches up above you both, plucking a single, red rose from the bush and hands it to you. 

You sniff the fragrant petals and smile at him with glittery eyes that wander over his face looking back at you. You run the rose head gently over his cheek and he smiles, and you think you've never seen anything more beautiful in your life.

The way he’s looking at you right now literally renders you mute and unable to breathe. 

But he's a tempest under that sweet smile.

He’s felt it for a while now, that tether between you becoming tighter, knotting into something unbreakable and deepening, but he finds himself grappling with a gnawing worry - one that whispers doubts in the quiet moments of contemplation.

He fears the weight of those three simple words that are on the cusp of his tongue: I love you. 

It wasn't that he doubted the sincerity of his emotions; rather, it was the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of how those words might alter the delicate balance of your relationship.

Is it too soon? Is it too much? Is it foolish at his age to even begin to allow himself the same giddy excitement he felt when he was much younger? Would uttering those words irrevocably change the dynamic between you, shifting the fragile equilibrium you had both carefully cultivated?

There's also the fear of rejection, of laying his heart bare only to have it met with silence or crippling hesitation. What if you might not feel the same way yet, or even at all? That his declaration of love might drive a wedge between you rather than bring you closer together causes a reaction within him that makes him physically tense.

“I can feel your heartbeat speeding up,” you say, regarding him quizzically with your hand already resting on his chest. Little fluttery pulses thrum under your fingertips.

Looking at you gazing up at him, a mixture of awe and concern, Marcus knows he has all he’s ever wanted and needed right here in his arms, and he can't deny the truth that simmers beneath the surface of his hesitations. 

He loves you with a fierceness that defies logic - defies gravity, even. A love that transcends the boundaries of time and space. And as he grapples with his fears, he knows deep down that the only way forward is to take a leap of faith, to trust in the strength of your forged connection that grows stronger between you every day. 

He decides he has to be bold. To be brave.

To be heroic. 

“I love you. I-I’m in love with you.” Marcus says softly, wrinkled almond eyes swimming with a mix of euphoria and worry. “Be my Valentine?”

You reach for him, stroking your fingers in the soft silk of his greying jawline. 

“También te quiero, Marcus.” You say, before he grazes his lips across yours. (I love you too, Marcus.)

“You learned some Spanish.” He whispers in awe, pulling his smile wide and eyes glistening behind the lenses of his specs.

“I figured I should. After all, I wanna understand all the special things you whisper in my ear.” 

“Sólo las cosas más especiales, y sucias, para ti, mi amor…” (Only the most special, and dirty, things for you, my love.)

“Yeah, I’m not fluent.” You chuckle as he kisses you, pulling you over fully onto his body where he crushes you against him. 

“Yet,” he smiles, as he sucks your bottom lip into this mouth for a deep kiss. 

“So, are we flying home, or…?” You ask.

“You’re an adrenaline junkie now,  hmm?” 

“What can I say, you’ve taken me to new heights, Mr Moreno. I might become addicted.”

“I already am.” Marcus says, nuzzling into you. 

“We should go soon, someone might find us?”

He shakes his head. “I told you, we have the whole place to ourselves, for a little while longer anyway. What do you want to do?”

You smile at him, devilishly.

“Make me fly again…” You whisper, as you feel his re-hardened cock dipping into your sticky folds. 

You push back as he slips fully inside you, hips bucking up to fill you full of him once more, and Marcus does exactly what you ask of him; he lets you fly. 

Thank you so much for enjoying this story! I'd love to know your thoughts and would really appreciate a re-blog too so others can enjoy some Mature!Marcus Moreno. Isn't he just dreamy? Happy Valentine's Day! 🖤😘

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

[hwalilac]

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve (2)

⇴ pairing: kim hongjoong x f!reader

⇴ genre: smut, angst

⇴ words: 2.6k

⇴ warnings: just some smut and tears

⇴ a/n: feedback is accepted and welcome, I’d love to hear your thoughts on my work! if you’d like to be on my taglist, lmk. if you’d like to see more of my work, check out my masterlist!

This is a continuation of this fic. This does NOT represent the real Kim Hongjoong of Ateez, and is purely a work of fiction.

⇴ tags: @hyuckilstan @star1117-archives @whatudowhennooneseesyou @jwnghyuns @az-con @noonaishere @rdiamond2727 @ja3hwa @wonwowzers @little-precious-baby

You wake up to a pounding headache, eyes blurry and feet freezing cold. Only Wooyoung would keep his house as cold as an igloo. Thankfully, he was smart enough to leave ibuprofen and a glass of water on the nightstand. You get up once you’ve mustered up the energy, heading downstairs to see where Wooyoung is.

The sound of sizzling fills the kitchen, drawing you closer. There Wooyoung is, dressed in a cute apron you got him two years ago. It’s crazy that he still has it. You thought you were being subtle, watching the way he struggles to flip an egg, but he turns around anyway. “Good morning, sleepy head,” he says, adding a cute giggle. You’ll never understand how he has so much energy in the morning. Without even looking in the mirror, you can tell you look like you just came out of months of hibernation.

Regardless, you made a strangled sounding ‘mhm’, before moving to the bar chairs behind the island. Within minutes he’s serving you breakfast, all looking beautifully presented. No one cooks like he can in Ateez. Especially not Hongjoong, you think. You let out a little giggle, thinking about how many times he’s made a mess in your kitchen.

You’re brought out of your thoughts when Wooyoung asks what you were laughing at. However, you just sit there for a second. You were just laughing at a memory with Hongjoong. The man you just left. The man who was sobbing as you walked away from him. Tears swelled in your eyes, fighting the urge to cry in front of Wooyoung yet again.

“Did I make a mistake?”, you ask, voice shaky, tears dripping down your face. Regret fills you, making your chest tighten. Wooyoung’s face softens at the sight of your emotional state. “Oh Y/n… I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.” You can tell he’s being honest. Maybe you just need time. Maybe you need time to grieve this loss. And so you did. From that day on, you vowed to let yourself feel all the emotions. But you promised you wouldn’t go back to him.

-

It’s Saturday night and you’re having a breakdown before you’ve even seen him. It’s been three months since you’ve seen Kim Hongjoong, and tonight is the night. Wooyoung is practically forcing you to go to this party for idols, as his plus one. You immediately said no, but after Wooyoung bought an expensive dress for you, you felt as though you had to go. Although you did curse him out for an entire week for spending a ton of money on you.

You’ve got the dress on, sexy black with slits around your sides, a low v cut, it’s quite short. You’ve tried to brush off Wooyoung’s words, but they’re stuck in your mind. “Hongjoong won’t be able to stop looking at you, he might just drag you away as soon as he sees you.” You won’t lie, part of you wants that. A small voice in the back of your head yearns for him. To the point where you’ve dreamt about him. But you’ll have to be strong and keep your distance.

The ride with Wooyoung was quick, traffic slow for the time of day. However, once you got there, your heart was already racing. You were on high alert, checking all around you for your ex. Just have fun, you try telling yourself. As soon as you enter the party, you’re met with an array of fragrances, both feminine and masculine. Who knew idols could smell so good?

You immediately head for the alcoholic punch, ready to get drunk. Once you’re there, you feel a presence next to you. You look up to find Seonghwa, another one of Hongjoong’s band mates. You put on a polite smile, hoping he doesn’t mention his leader. He doesn’t though, making small talk about how you’ve been doing, and complimenting your dress. He’s always been good for small talk, knowing when not to dive into deeper topics. It’s much appreciated.

Once he walks away, you find a spot at a small empty table with only two chairs. It means a less likelihood of anyone sitting with you. You glance around the large room, recognizing many people. Wooyoung is talking DK from Seventeen’s ear off, probably telling him how much he loves his voice. You certainly know, as he’s told you more than once.

Everyone looks so beautiful, and you can’t help but feel insignificant in comparison to everyone else. Hongjoong would always tell you that no one in the industry compared to you. You look down at your almost empty glass of punch, before downing the rest. You head back over to the punch table, making sure to fill up your glass almost all the way in hopes it’ll last you longer.

You’re about to walk away when a man steps in front of you, almost making you spill your drink. Thankfully, you didn’t. You look up to find Juyeon from The Boyz, looking down at you with a beautiful smile. You’ve always found him to be one of the most attractive men in the industry, though you’d never told Hongjoong that. “Hey, sorry about that!”, he quickly apologizes. “Are you okay?” You manage a quick nod, and he responds with another beautiful smile.

Little did you know that Hongjoong was across the room, staring at your little interaction with Juyeon. He couldn’t lie, it made him jealous. He always trusted you, but he was still a jealous lover. He rolled his eyes, but kept watching the scene go down, until you eventually walked back to your corner of the room. Hongjoong was broken out of his thoughts when one of his members spoke, “For someone who says they’ve moved on, you sure are distracted by her.” Seonghwa snorted at Hongjoong’s distaste towards his statement.

He scoffed at the audacity of his hyung to say such a thing. Of course he wasn’t distracted. Why would I be?, he thought. And yet, he was completely enamored by your presence. He was glad you came. Knowing Wooyoung, he probably dragged you here. The sudden urge to go talk to you came over him. He knows it’s a bad idea, and yet he just can’t stop himself. Step by step he walks over to you, hesitant to greet you. But it has to happen now, or it won’t happen for a long time.

You’re staring at your phone when you see someone standing in front of your table. Quickly, you look up, thinking for a split second that you were in trouble. And you were. Because Hongjoong stood there, looking down at you with a kind smile. It broke your heart to see him here, looking more handsome than ever. You always loved seeing him in a tuxedo. But you had to keep up an act. Why? You couldn’t answer that.

“Can I sit?”, he gently asks, and you can tell he’s trying to not make you angry. You reluctantly nod, and he takes the seat across from you. You can almost hear the rapid heartbeat in his chest. You know he’s not good with confrontation. But if he wants to solve anything, he has to take the next step. “So… How have you been?” Small talk. He wants to make small talk.

“Hongjoong, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.” Your words stun him, not expecting you to be too blunt. You’re never that blunt with him. “I want to apologize. I should’ve done it a while ago, but I was too much of a coward. I fucked up, really badly.” You nod along with his last statement, which silently crushes his heart. He can’t take knowing that he hurt you.

“I was too stubborn, I should’ve listened to you. You were only trying to help, and I was being an asshole. You deserved so much more that that.” You look up to see his eyes swelling with tears, something you haven’t seen in a long time. You sigh, before starting, “Yeah, I did deserve better. You really hurt me Hongjoong. It wasn’t healthy for either of us. You had some things you needed to sort out.”

He quickly jumped in, “I got help. I started going to therapy. I started sorting out my issues, and talking things out. It really helped me.” He looks hopeful. Hopeful that you’ll forgive him. You can already tell that that’s his mission. And maybe to get you back. And to be quite honest… you’re not opposed. “I’m really glad you’ve gotten help Joong, I know how bad you were struggling.”

You share a smile, and a look in each other’s eyes that could tell anyone with eyes that you still loved each other. “I’m telling you this because I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I’m so sorry I betrayed your trust, but I want to earn it back. If you’ll let me, that is.” You sit there in silence, looking like you’re contemplating this decision. But you’re not. You’ve thought about him every single day since you left. You miss him so badly, it hurts.

One would think once you forgave him, and let him back into your life, that you’d go home and have a sweet talk. Maybe spend some quality time. Well… you certainly are spending quality time. Within minutes of you forgiving him, you end up in the bathroom together. It started with a forgiveness kiss. Then an “I missed you” kiss. Then an “I love you” kiss. And then… It went south from there.

Both your clothes were everywhere, his lips and hands all over your body. It was a sight to see. But it was only his sight, and he was going to make sure you knew that. “I hope no one has touched you,” he growled. No one did though. “How could I let anyone touch my body when all I could think about was you?” His eyes widened, not expecting such an answer. But it only fueled him to keep going. To give you the utmost amount of pleasure.

His fingers were in you in seconds, pumping fast, trying to get the spongy spot inside you. Luckily, he’s always been able to succeed in that. Moans echoed throughout the bathroom, but you were thankful he dragged you to the bathroom at the very back of the building. Your moans were his, and his only. He made sure to tell you that more than once. Soon he couldn’t take it anymore, and shoved his face in your core. The pleasure was unbearable, a fire quickly building in your stomach.

His fingers reached up to tweak your buds, forcing a moan out of you. You dug your fingers into his hair, pulling at the roots. He loved it though, making him suck on your clit even harder. He knew exactly how to get you there, hands gripping your thighs, and eating you out like his life depending on it. Finally it was too much, and you spilled all your juices onto his mouth. He was happy to clean you up though, not missing a single drop. He always told you how good you tasted.

He rose from his knees, immediately unbuckling his belt. “Oh angel, I’ve been dying to feel you around me. You don’t understand how much I’ve missed making you scream for me.” You could’ve come right then and there. And he knew it too, knowing exactly how he made you feel with his words. He was pouncing on you in seconds, too eager to be inside you. You were turned around, lying over the counter, ass on display for him. He could help but slap your ass, loving the way it shook for him.

As soon as he entered, you were done for. There’s no way you’d go a day without his cock anymore. The way he stretched you felt incredible, hands practically bruising your hips. You immediately pushed back against him, ready to be filled all the way. That was all he needed, “Oh fuck baby, so eager to be filled by me. You missed it, didn’t you? The way you grip around me so well, like a little cockslut.” It turned you on so badly, immediately making you clench around him.

His hips brutally slapped against you at a punishing pace, making up for all the time he didn’t fuck you. One hand came up to your chest, while the other wrapped your hair around his hand and pulled your head back. You could barely see him, and yet you could still tell he had that sickeningly evil smirk on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. He drops your hair, before saying, “Look in the mirror baby, look at how sexy you look, moaning for my cock.”

You couldn’t help but look, body always doing whatever he told you to do. And the sight almost made you come right then and there. He was looking into your eyes, almost daring you to come. “Am I making you feel good? Is this as good as it is in your dreams?” He teased you, already knowing the answer. “Fuck yes, please Joong, please,” you begged. “Please what, baby? Use your words,” he demanded.

“P-please make me come,” you whined. Thankfully, he didn’t tease you any longer. Somehow, he thrusted even faster. His finger was on your clit, rubbing and circling, begging you to come for him. Before you knew it, everything went black. You were shaking and moaning, all for him. You could feel his release inside you. When you came down, he was already pulled out of you. His first action was to clean you up, making sure you were comfortable.

For a good five minutes you just sat in silence. He was the first to speak, “I missed you, so much. I promise you, I will make sure to treat you like you deserve. I love you more than anything, and I’m sorry it got that bad.” You opened your arms for him, letting him embrace you. You couldn’t deny that you were more than happy to let him back into your life. Hongjoong was a good person at heart, anyone could tell that.

You walked back out, into the party, trying not to be too suspicious. However, as soon as you walked out, you were met with Wooyoung and Seonghwa standing by your table. Once they saw you two together, it finally clicked. A sly smirk appeared on Wooyoung’s face, but before he could even say anything snarky, you stopped him. “Yes Wooyoung, we got back together. Let’s not make a big deal about it.”

But that wasn’t good enough for him. He went on the entire night, talking about all the nights you cried to him to the entirety of Ateez. It couldn’t be more embarrassing. But all throughout the night, you had Hongjoong next to you. You knew it wasn’t the end. You knew you deserved to be together. All relationships have bumps in the road. This was a hill. But you got over it together, and he’s become a better person in the end.

“Yes Mingi! I’m telling you, Y/n was a total mess.”

“Wooyoung, I’ll beat the crap out of you.”

I do not give permission for anyone to repost my work

[she-is-juniper]

Reckless Serenade // Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: Austin Butler x f!Reader

Type: oneshot / standalone (can be read as a prequel to The Devil I Know)

Summary: You and Austin are in a new relationship, and you’ve been teasing him all week, so by the time the weekend hits, Austin decides to try out a few of his kinks on you.

Word Count: 5K

Rating: E (Explicit) ***18+ only. Minors DNI or you will be blocked.

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, car sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (female- receiving), dominant/submissive relationship, degradation, slight edging, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), Austin being absolutely filthy, dirty talk

A/N:      Happy Sinful Saturday ♡ This can be read as a prequel to my fic "The Devil I Know", but also functions well on its own. Full disclosure: This oneshot is essentially a rewrite of an old fic of mine that I published on a past blog. That being said, I’ve added things, adjusted details, and frankly made it a lot better. The important thing is that it was 100% my fic when it was originally published, and it’s 100% my fic now!

     This is a work of fiction and is not intended to be taken as truth or fact. I do not claim to own Austin Butler or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized. PLEASE TAKE NOTE THAT PUBLIC SEX, INCLUDING CAR SEX, IS ILLEGAL; this is FICTION and not intended to be replicated. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not get yourself arrested.

     Please also note that the representations of body types in my moodboard are not intended to exclude anybody of any race, ethnicity, or body shape. The purpose of the moodboard is simply to emulate the essence or mood of the fic's settings/characters/relationships.

Enjoy! ◡̈ -Juni

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Even for a girl who comes from humble beginnings, you certainly have a taste for the finer things in life. And dating Austin Butler is certainly one of those finer things.

Keep reading

“How do I look?”

You smirk and twirl your body to give Austin a full 360 of your body. You’re wearing a new gown, a sleek silver number by Dior you’d snatched on a whim last weekend. It fits you like a glove—or rather, like a second skin—and the expensive quality of the fabric makes you look like you’re dripping with opulent grace. A slit in the skirt accentuates your smooth leg along with the new Louboutin stilettos you’ll probably regret wearing later. And, of course, you're wearing a new fragrance you're starting to believe might become your new signature—Papillon's Salome.

Maybe it’s all a little too much for a Friday night dinner to celebrate your boyfriend’s agent’s birthday. But the restaurant you’re going to is more than nice enough to constitute a valid reason for formal wear.

And the look of hunger in Austin’s eyes is worth it. He says nothing as he watches you, his legs crossed, his fingers absentmindedly stroking the leather of the armchair he sits in at the corner of your bedroom. A mischievous upward lilt is growing at the corners of his mouth. He needs no words to express what he’s thinking.

Still, you continue to subtly show off your figure for him, turning toward your dresser mirror to adjust your earrings.

“You don’t think it’s too much?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t ignore the way you arch your back as you lean to reach for a simple necklace. “I know it’s just a birthday dinner—”

“You look perfect,” Austin says simply.

You turn to smile at him. He looks pretty perfect too, in a dark jacket and trousers combination that pairs nicely with a black button-down shirt. You love it when he wears dark colors. 

“Okay, I’m ready. Shall we go?”

Austin nods and stands. He leads you outside with a delicate hand on the small of your back. It’s odd that he’s restraining himself from touching you more, especially when you know how much he loves you in a dress.

But that look in his eyes… You wonder how long he intends to let the night go by before demanding you to strip it off.

Not a dull day has passed in your budding relationship with Austin Butler. For a man so charming and collected on the outside, he’s full of surprising twists that always leave you guessing what he’ll be doing next. You’ve only been dating him for a few weeks, and his unpredictability has made every moment exhilarating.

The sex has been constant and unbelievably good. You'd never experienced anything even remotely like it. The first time Austin had you, you were blown away by the sheer passion in everything he did. From the precise way he planted kisses along every inch of your skin, to the fire burning in his gaze as he slid into you for the first time and every time after that, you knew he was as addicted to you as you were to him. You trusted him entirely with your body, and he seemed to reciprocate that responsibility with the utmost care of you and your pleasure.

But everything is still very new. And you can’t help but feel like he’s holding something back.

Austin opens the passenger door of his car for you, and then circles to the driver’s side to climb in and start the engine. You check the clock in the dashboard: 7:05 p.m. You and he are going to arrive a little early to the 7:30 reservation. Which is surprising, seeing as you tend to run late to things when Austin is involved.

It feels strangely tense between you and Austin the whole drive. You make small talk about your day, and he about his. But he’s acting…off. You want to look at his face to gleam some kind of clarity about his mood, but his blue eyes are glued on the road.

Watching his fingers stroke the steering wheel twists your core in the best of ways. You cross your thighs and squeeze them together tightly, yearning to feel those fingers of his on your skin. All week, you’d been so busy with your own work, and he with meetings and promotional photoshoots. You hadn’t had quality time with him in ages. And you missed him, missed him in every way. Frankly, your underwear has been soaking wet with anticipation since the weekend had begun.

“Is everything okay?” you ask quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Austin gnaws on the inside of his cheek, looking very much like he’s trying not to say something. “Yeah, everything’s fine,” he says finally.

Austin has a lot of moods, you’ve found. But you haven’t known him long enough to figure out what mood this one is. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure. You’re just a little quiet is all.” You reach across the cab and place a tentative hand on his thigh.

The gesture is meant to be reassuring, but a little sound emits from Austin’s mouth that sounds oddly like a growl.

“Y/N,” he says.

“What?” you reply.

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

You’re taken aback, primarily because you can’t decipher the tone of his voice. Is he angry with you? You frown, withdrawing your hand from his leg. His eyes break away from the road to follow the movement of your hand.

“You think I’m a tease?” you say.

Maybe it’s your imagination, but you think you see a small shudder runs down his spine. “You’ve been taunting me all night. All week.”

He isn’t wrong. In the brief encounters you’ve had with Austin this week, you’ve been flirty on purpose, giggly and touchy and suggestive. You wanted to give him something to look forward to for this weekend, for the plans you and he had made to catch up. But was it too much? Is he mad now? Is this about to become your first fight?

“I… I didn’t mean…”

Austin presses his lips into a tight line as he pulls the car into the parking lot of the restaurant, which was a high-end steakhouse in West Hollywood with a private room for events such as these. He parks in the shadowed alley around the corner of the building, a good distance away, even though there are ample spots to park closer to the entrance. What little light there is left in the dusk sky is shrouded by the side of the building.

Austin cuts the engine. You and he sit in silence for too long.

“You’re mad,” you ask, but it comes out as more of a confused-sounding statement.

You wait for him to confirm it, but instead, Austin swiftly unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to take your face in his hands—grabs you, really, more harshly than you’d been expecting. He’s scowling. And then he kisses you.

As his lips find yours, you’re surprised by his roughness. Despite the smoothness of his clean-shaven face, he's rough with his actions, as one of his hands buries in your hair and the other presses firmly against your neck. Desperation seeps from his tongue, which traces your top lip.

“Aus,” you whisper. In response, he lets out a low groan. It’s suddenly clear; he wants you . You realize you’ve mistaken anger with sexual frustration.

“Get in the backseat,” he murmurs as he breaks away.

“Austin,” you say his name in full now.

“Do it.” His voice is stern and husky.

You understand now why Austin wanted to get here so early, and you feel even more wetness pool between your thighs as you comply with his request. You climb over the middle storage compartment and onto the sleek black leather of the backseat. He had removed all of the seats to make room for all his gigging equipment, so without a backseat, you sit on the floor of the van and blink up at him in anticipation. Austin follows suit, crouching on the floor in front of you, right beside your legs. But he doesn’t kiss you again.

“You know how I feel about being teased, baby?” His eyes rake over your body. Two slow, teasing hands grab the floor-length hem of your gown and pull it up your legs, revealing more and more of your legs with each passing second. He situates himself in between them. “You’re playing with fire. I know exactly what I want from you, and when I want it,” he continues in a dangerous voice. “And when I don’t get it…” He tsks.

You gasp at the cool air as Austin hikes your dress up to your thighs, finally revealing your thin panties.

“You’ve been very naughty this week,” he drawls, glaring up at you through lowered eyes. “Teasing me with your touches, those dirty texts, all while you knew I was too busy to do anything about it. And then you put this dress on.” He caresses the expensive material of your dress that’s bunched around your thighs. “You knew exactly what you were doing to me, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“Austin,” you whisper, looking around outside out the window. You and he were in a parking lot, for fuck’s sake.

He just smirks with a raised eyebrow, the lust in his blue eyes crystal clear. “I think it’s time I get what I want,” he says.

You bite your lip, wanting him to hurry up and start touching you already. “What do you want, Aus?” you whisper, grabbing for one of his hands and dragging it up your bare leg.

But Austin withdraws his hand from your skin. “Naughty girls don’t get touched,” he scolds.

You huff in exasperation. “Please, Aus—”

He cuts you off. “No begging, that’s not gonna work on me today.”

Fuck, he’s gonna drive you crazy. You huff again and slouch against the backrest of the seat, crossing your arms in frustration. If he isn’t going to touch you, what the hell was the point of getting into the backseat?

Austin looks up at you with a self-satisfied sneer. He pulls himself up toward your face, bringing a gentle hand up to brush your cheek with his fingers. “I won’t touch you right now, sweetheart, but I want you to touch yourself,” he whispers hoarsely into your ear. It sends an involuntary chill down your spine and toward your core.

“You…you want…” You flinch as Austin nips your earlobe gently, an unexpected action that makes you keen, despite your best efforts.

Austin traces your parted lips with a gentle thumb. “That’s right,” he says. “But you’re going to need to listen very carefully to everything I say. Understand?”

You nod, gulping. This is new for him. Outside the car, you can hear the sounds of people chatting as they enter or leave the restaurant. God, you’re relieved the car’s windows are so darkly tinted.

Austin pulls away to look into your eyes. His expression softens ever so slightly as he asks you: "Do you remember what we talked about last week, baby...about a safe word?"

Your stomach jolts. He had brought it up in passing one morning, but at the time, you hadn't fully grasped what he would need a safe word for. But the word was simple enough, and was the only word that held only one unmistakable meaning: stop.

"I remember," you whisper.

Austin gazes at you earnestly. "So you know you can say the word, anytime you want or need, and I'll stop, no questions asked. Yes?"

"Yes, baby."

"Good girl." Austin settles back on the floor in front of your seat, sitting on his knees and resting his hands on his lap. Through the darkness, you can still see the clear outline of the bulge in his dress pants. And then he opens his mouth and instructs, very slowly: “I want you to slip your panties off.”

Your mouth goes dry, and you look down at Austin questioningly. He raises an eyebrow in a gesture that needs no words to say: Don’t make me repeat myself.

So you hook your thumbs on either side of your underwear and lift your hips to drag them down. The crotch clings to your wetness, and there’s a noticeable spot of moisture where it had seeped through. You shimmy the fabric down to your feet, and you’re about to kick it away when Austin seizes it for himself. He traces the mark of wetness and brings it to his face. You moan out a breathy sound as you watch the tip of his tongue taste your pleasure on the underwear.

“Sit back,” he tells you.

You do.

“I want you to bring your left hand to your chest. That’s it. Now slip it beneath your neckline. I want you to feel your breast for me… Now, pinch your nipple. Is it nice and hard for me now?”

“Yes,” you say, your voice gravelly. Your back arches a little as the pinch reverberates down your torso. You feel so sensitive and so impatient at the pace he’s making you go.

“I want you to put your other hand on your tummy. Good girl. Don’t you dare bring it lower yet,” he warns. You prickle at the word yet . “Good. Now I want you to pull your neckline back, show me your nipples. Do you think you can show me?”

You do, pulling down the neckline of your dress to show him your breasts. You’re not wearing a bra—you don’t need it for this kind of dress—and you very much enjoy the way Austin’s breath seems to catch in his throat as he sees you exposed like this. Austin’s hand on his lap seems to twitch almost imperceptibly toward his crotch.

“Good girl, Y/N. Fuck, you look so good. Now pinch yourself for me. Imagine it’s my teeth on your sweet tits…good, good girl.”

You want so badly to move the hand on your stomach down between your legs. Instead, you clench your thighs together tightly, as you had done before. The movement is not lost on Austin. He growls and brings his hands to your knees, pulling them apart.

“I see what you’re trying to do there, sweetheart. That’s against my rules for this evening.”

You sigh when he withdraws his hands from your knees, aching for their warmth against your skin again. But when he places his hands back on his lap, one of them rests on his bulge and rubs.

“That’s not fair,” you protest. “Why do you get to touch yourself and I don’t?”

Austin’s eyes narrow. “This is my game,” he growls, low and dangerous. “Remember? I decide what I want and how I want it. You want more later tonight? Then listen to everything I say, and no talking back.”

His words send goosebumps across your skin. You nod in acceptance, shivering at the cool air on your wet pussy.

Austin doesn’t say anything for more than a few seconds, and you get antsy, arching your back and pressing your fingers into the skin of your navel. “Please, Austin…” you whisper, biting your lip. “Please let me touch myself.”

Austin’s eyes seem to gloss over with desire. Finally, he says, “Move your right hand down to rest over your pelvis. No lower.”

Every inch you move your hand closer feels hotter and hotter to the touch. You’re so fucking close to the place you desperately need friction that you have to suppress a moan.

“Yes, good girl, so patient,” Austin says, and you can see the hand on his cock squeezing it tighter as he watches you. “Show me your index finger? Yes, I want you to get that finger nice and wet for me.”

You let out your moan then as you allow your finger to trace a line down your wetness and separate your folds. You’re absolutely dripping.

“Good, yes. Fuck, you’re so good, so gorgeous. I want you to slip that finger inside of you, can you do that for me, Y/N?” Austin says, his voice growing tenser.

You whimper as you allow your finger to push past your folds and into you. It’s unbelievably slick and nearly pulsing with arousal. Austin curses and slips his own hand down the hem of his pants.

“Move your finger now, Y/N. I want you to fuck yourself.”

You pull your finger out before slipping it back in, and you tilt your head back. You groan, bending and flexing the finger inside of you, desperate for more…for another finger, for friction against your clit, for Austin to just fucking touch you anywhere. So you push your finger inside as far as it will go. And then your thumb brushes up against your clit, and the incidental pressure feels so good, too good. You press your thumb in a circle, desperate to feed your desire for more.

But Austin misses nothing, and he firmly pries your thumb off of your clit. “No,” he says simply, “not yet.”

“Austin, please—”

“Do what I say, and only what I say. Don’t make me punish you later.”

Fuck. You keep fingering yourself, allowing your fingertip to drag against every ridge inside of you. Each small wave of pleasure that courses through your body at the sensation bring about small moans from your lips. Austin’s having trouble holding back his own moans, now that his hand is in his pants. The idea that he’s pleasuring himself too makes you feel even wetter.

“You’re doing so good, my little slut. Show me your finger,” Austin says. You pull out your index finger dazedly, and Austin grunts in approval at the glistening slick that coats it. Suddenly, he leans over to you and takes your finger in his hot mouth. Your mouth falls open in a cry of pleasure, rejoicing at the warmth of his tongue around your finger.

“Fuck, Austin,” you whisper. You need him, more than you can express.

He releases your finger from his mouth with a pop. “God, you taste so good. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Please,” you mewl, not bothering to finish your plea. He knows what you want.

And you know he’s not about to give into you that easily. “You can touch your clit now, love.”

Thank fucking god. You don’t hesitate to drag your fingers—two this time—through your wetness again and back up to rest atop that bundle of nerves that so desperately needed movement. You start moving your fingers in quick circles.

“Slower,” Austin grunts.

You slow the movement into lazy, wide circles, biting your bottom lip between your lip. But you can’t hold back the moans for long, as much as you’d like to. You arch your back and keen, each circle bringing a wash of pleasure over your entire groan.

“Moan my name, baby,” you hear Austin say breathily. “I wanna hear you say my name with that pretty little mouth.”

You obey, intoning his name in place of your next outcry. Your fingers move faster now; you can’t help it. The delectable peak of pleasure is fast-approaching, now, and as tangible and foreboding as a tsunami wave on a horizon.

“Y/N. Fuck, yes, baby, you look so fucking good. My good little slut.”

Tendrils of fire scorch your skin from your core outward, and you press your fingers more firmly into yourself, desperate for the flames to overtake you. You cry his name like a broken record; it’s beginning to become one of the few words you can remember.

A swelling feeling begins to overtake your senses. You’re about to come.

“Austin, I—fuck, Austin, I need you—oh my god—”

Suddenly, Austin pulls your hand away in a single pull. You nearly shriek in protest, but he clamps another hand down on your mouth and shushes you. His eyes are wide as he gazes out the car’s window.

“Shit. Get down.”

He doesn’t wait for you to comply; he forces your shoulders down so you’re lying against the backseat bench instead of sitting upright. A voice from outside grows louder. Someone must be coming. Austin’s hand is still pressed against your mouth. You breathe heavily through your nose from how close your orgasm had been, and now your heart thuds even harder from fear of being caught.

“Keep quiet,” Austin hisses in your ear. He’s crouched next to you, and you hope he’s low enough to avoid being spotted if anyone tries to look inside. You can feel your pussy pulsing with pleasure, even though you’re no longer touching yourself. With an involuntary clinch of your walls, you hum out a moan, completely out of control of your body’s demand for release.

Footsteps outside draw nearer. “…Austin’s car,” someone says. You recognize the muffled voice as Austin’s agent’s.

“Wonder why he would park all the way over here?” says another voice, presumably his agent’s significant other.

“Well, if he’s parked, they’re here somewhere. But where?”

“Maybe they’re inside and we missed them.”

The couple finally retreats. Austin heaves out a sigh beside you, finally releasing his clamp on your mouth.

“That was close,” you whisper. Thank god they hadn’t peered in through the tinted windows.

Austin says nothing, but he’s still touching you, his hand clasped around yours from when he’d pulled it away, his chest pressed up against your side. You look over at him and realize his zipper is down, cock sprung out of his trousers in full. You bite your lip, desperate to finish what he’d had you start.

“Austin,” you plea, your voice high and breathy. “P—Please.”

He looks over at you and sweeps his eyes over the flushed skin of your cheeks and chest, and down to your inner thighs, where your dress is hiked up to your waist now, leaving nothing to his imagination. Your hips move up and down in involuntary thrusting movements, still high with impending pleasure.

It must be too much for him to resist the sight of you. Austin leans into you and presses his mouth onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss. His fingertips dig into your hips before moving to squeeze your inner thigh. You nearly sob at the feeling of him touching you so close to where you need it.

“Austin, fuck, I need you.”

“I know, baby.” And he pulls you up in a sitting position once again, before he repositions himself on the floor beneath you and between your opened legs, seemingly desperate to taste you. “I’ll take care of you.” He nips twice at your inner thighs, one bite to each leg, before moving his mouth to rest against your sex.

Holy fuck. You cry out, arching your back and burying your hands in his blonde hair. Finally. Austin’s tongue delves into your folds, lapping up all the wetness that’s been dripping out of you. He moans loudly at the taste of you on his tongue, and you swear at the sensation of his low voice as it vibrates against you. His skillful tongue envelops your clit, then, and the addictive assault of warmth takes you by surprise, as it always does.

He breaks away, only to wet his finger with his saliva and you watch in awe as he pushes it into you. You see stars at the new sensation; Austin’s fingers are longer, thicker, and unbelievably more dexterous than yours. He doesn’t move them at first, but just watches as you thrust your hips back and forth, fucking yourself against his fingers. Finally, he curves them upward toward your belly, and your back jolts into an arch at the sudden pleasure.

“Baby, I’m gonna—oh my god, fuck, Austin, Austin…” The whirling flames of pleasure approach fast and sure, and your breathing grows erratic. Austin watches you unravel before him, biting his lip, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. His tongue circles you hard and fast. He inserts his middle finger inside you along with his index, curling the digits up into you over and over.

But what it is that finally pushes you over the edge is the sudden pressure of his other hand against your lower navel, pressing down firmly, almost as if he’s trying to press his fingers inside of you against as much of you as possible. And you come completely undone, the tendrils of fire overtaking your whole body. You arch your back and clench your walls around Austin’s fingers, unable to keep from screaming in pleasure or to keep your arms and legs from spasming.

It takes you several minutes to come down from your high. Aftershocks shake your body like electrocutions. You slump down against Austin’s backseat and moan, over and over; you couldn’t speak if you tried. Meanwhile, Austin kisses up and down your legs.

“So much for not touching me,” you murmur. Austin laughs, the breath tickling your thighs.

“I can’t help myself when it comes to you,” he remarks. “My girl. My sweet girl.”

“So you’re not really mad at me?”

Austin shakes his head and scoots his body so he’s closer to your face. He kisses your forehead. “No, sweetheart. Definitely not. I just… I just wanted to test out a couple of things with you.”

“What do you mean?”

He traces little patterns on the skin of your chest. “I… I wanted to see if you like it when I act more…dominant. I, um… I take it you do?”

You bite your lip and grin. “Yeah, I like it.” You like it more than you’d care to admit.

“And I like watching you get yourself off,” he admits. “I could watch you do it all day.”

“I prefer when it’s you getting me off,” you say.

He chuckles. “I also…” He runs a nervous hand through his hand. “I like the thrill of this. The thrill of almost being caught.”

“You do?”

“Fuck, yes. It’s just that much sexier.”

You smile lazily at him, shuddering as yet another aftershock of pleasure courses through your veins. “Then you can have me anywhere you’d like, Austin Butler.”

He moans in satisfaction. Then, you realize something. You glance down at his crotch. His cock is still out, exposed, and hard as ever. “Shit. Austin, you never…”

Austin shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to fucking devour you later, you know. It can wait.”

You reach a lazy hand down to his pulsing, pink member. He’s as hard as a metal rod; he grunts in response. “Sure doesn’t look like this can wait.”

He groans and gulps heavily.

“Oh, no. There’s no way we’re going to this steakhouse in the state you’re in right now.”

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“We can definitely do that,” you grin, spreading your legs for him tauntingly. The backseat bench is narrowish, but certainly wide enough for him on top of you…

Austin curses as you move your thumb over his head, spreading the precum all over. “You’re positive?”

“Fuck me, Austin.”

That’s all Austin needed to pull his trousers down to his ankles and clamber on top of you, planting demanding kisses to your lips. He positions his cock at your entrance, coating himself in your slickness, which has since pooled in dripping amounts between your thighs from your orgasm.

“Holy shit,” Austin says. He’s hesitant, as always, your comfort his first priority. You claw at his back and trail your hands down his spine to rest against his ass, pulling his hips up toward your entrance encouragingly. It’s all the urging he needs. He tips his head back as he slides his cock past your folds, and pushes as deep into you as you’re able to take him. It’s unbelievably slick and yet, as always, a delightfully tight fit for Austin. A steady stream of curses escapes both your lips and his as he bottoms out.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. Fuck. You’re so beautiful. You’re so mine.”

Austin slowly pulls out of you, withdrawing a gasp from your throat. The need to be filled by him manifests as an aching urge deep inside of your core. He fulfills that need with another thrust, this one harder and surer.

And then he’s moving, in and out, his hips crashing against yours with an alluring smack each time. You moan, high and feminine, knowing he loves it while at the same time unable to help yourself at all.

“Yeah, Y/N, fuck ,” Austin says into the shell of your ear, low and husky. “You’re taking me so well. You like it when I fill you up, huh? You’re such a good girl. My filthy slut. Your pussy’s so wet for me.”

It’s as if you’re practically witnessing his dominant side coming out again, and you whimper, letting him take control completely. Austin seizes your wrists and pins them down on the seat above your head. Each thrust rocks the car and ripples out through the curves of your body.

“Fuck me harder, Austin,” you demand, and he complies, slamming into you with a new vigor. You see stars.

“I’m gonna come,” he moans, his voice thick.

“Come inside me,” you command.

“Fuck, I’m so close. I’m gonna fill you up with my come, baby girl.” The hands on your wrists tighten, and his thrusts become more and more erratic. “Fuck, oh fuck.”

“Come for me, Austin, don’t stop” you coax. And it’s all he needs before orgasming with three final thrusts. You can feel his member pulse as he releases inside of you. The strained gasps and moans that emit from his pink lips are heavenly sounds.

He collapses on top of you, panting. Hot wetness—yours and his—drips out of you. The tickling sensation of it running down your legs brings you closer and closer to another torrent of pleasure. You slip your hand from Austin’s grasp—easily now that he’s weakened—and bring your fingers to your clit. You hadn’t expected yourself to be so close to orgasming again, but you are. You rub yourself for just a few moments before you’re reaching the edge again. Austin’s so dazed that he can’t say anything, just presses his forehead against yours. Suddenly you’re twisting and moaning and tensing all over again, this time around Austin’s member, still deep inside of you.

“I could feel that,” Austin remarks as you collapse in a heap beneath him.

All you can manage is his name in a breathy, exhausted sigh. And he loves the sound of it, squeezing you even tighter in his arms.

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so perfect. Oh my god. I'm so fucking happy I met you. I'm so glad you're in my life.”

You stroke his back gently as you whisper in his ear, "Me too, baby." 

He shudders atop of you, and you revel in the vulnerability he expresses with you, both in his words and in his position, being held so closely by you. You lie there in silence, Austin still on top of you and inside of you, for a few minutes. You look at the fogged-up car windows and start laughing.

“What is it?” he asks.

"Do you still want to go to this dinner party?" you giggle.

He smirks. "No one will know."

"I don't look like I just got fucked in the backseat of your car?"

He bites back a satisfied grin and brushes your hair from your face. "All I see is a lovely blush,” he says sweetly.

“But what about…?”

You look down at where he’s still deep inside you. He can’t hold back his grin at the sight, which is rather nefarious, and he slowly withdraws from you. You feel a stream of warm wetness seeping from deep inside you. With a start, you watch, mouth agape, as he crawls down your body to draw his tongue through the mess of your and his pleasure, licking all of it into his mouth and swallowing.

Oh my god. You moan his name, partly in disbelief at his ministrations, partly due to the sensitivity between your legs. When he’s done, he kisses both of your thighs and pulls your underwear back up your legs.

“Let’s go,” he says, zipping his trousers and smoothing down his shirt. “No one will be able to tell.”

❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊ ❊

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!

Much love ❤︎ from Juniper

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[lolitafushiguro]

The Theory of Everything (Alhaitham x Reader)

Sumeru city is as bustling as the pitter-patters of rain in its forests. Scholars, merchants, adventurers, thespians, performers and even commonfolk are in harmony with each other ー whether they seek refuge, or a deadline to follow through, or they simply want to entertain themselves and the passersby ー there seems to be a place reserved just for anyone and everybody else. Perhaps that is why it is called the city of wisdom ー it gathers people from all walks of life together to share their knowledge, woes and experiences through their own poem and song.

And you found it perfect. Sumeru is your home, and for sure even wanderers feel their hearts fill with the warmth of belongingness once they step foot in the city.

So when the skies' hue meet the melodies of the Dusk Birds, you gleefully make your way to the Akademiya, where a certain stoic scribe awaits, albeit deniably, for your presence.

Alhaitham heaves a long sigh. Another long day, he thinks to himself. He had just finished signing documents submitted by the scholars of all Darshans that were filed 1-4 days prior. On top of that, he had to attend a meeting with Spantamad researchers in their planned expedition in the deserts of Sumeru.

So, to say that he wants to relax at his home and continue reading one of the science fiction books you gifted him (he loves it very much, thank you)… is an understatement.

Since his working hours are coming to a close, he decided that he'll take a minute or two to relax before heading home. Leaning back on his chair, he rubbed circles on his temples and closed his eyes.

For a while, he seemed like a content cat, enjoying his solitude.

So when he heard your loud voice greeting the scholars who are on their way home, as if he practiced this a thousand times (he didn't, he genuinely just doesn't want you seeing him slipping up), he immediately grabbed his pen and a few papers to pretend that he's doing something productive.

Which he does ー he always does, and you always tell him that he doesn't seem to notice it.

"Is he still here?" You ask, and a faint voice replies to you just outside his office.

"Good! Take care on the way home." You replied before opening the door to his office.

Alhaitham doesn't know how to respond, you always surprise him and it's always at times when he would much rather be alone.

But can he blame you? You always end up bringing much better company than his own solace offers.

Again, he's too aloof to admit it to you, but he enjoys being with you. He wishes you seek him like this forever.

"Knock, knock~" You smile, voice suddenly as gentle as the breeze. As if you knew how to read the room, you quietly walked towards the chair in front of his desk.

"Hello." Alhaitham fixed the papers and placed them back where they came from.

"You were pretending to sign them just now, weren't you?" You leaned your chin on top of your hands.

Alhaitham lets out a breathy laugh, as if he surrenders to your receptive eyes.

You laugh with him as well, getting up to walk behind his chair.

"Close your eyes." You say, and he does so. You fish your pocket for the ointment you bought from a travelling merchant from Liyue.

He wishes you don't see the smile plastered on his face, lest he'll wish for the ground to eat him alive.

"This one is made from the extract of Silk Flowers, Glaze Lilies and Lotuses. I hope you don't mind the fragrance. This was from a merchant from Liyue. He said it's good for headaches. Too bad you didn't get to visit his stall. It was amazing, really. He even sells this beautiful reddish silk robe. I didn't buy it of course, I've been saving up for the new novel series of this author I've been hearing about for a while. Though I really wanted it…" You rambled, and he finds your soft voice pleasant. It was as if he was listening to a songbird sing him to sleep.

You massaged his temples with the ointment, and a comfortable silence befalls between the two of you.

"You know you could be doing other important things right now." He finally says.

You flick his forehead.

"Are you implying that I'm wasting my time when I'm with you?" You bite back.

"You do nothing whenever you come here."

"Well, what do you do when you come over to my place? Nothing, so do not talk me out of visiting you in the Akademiya. Besidesー"

"I commend your promptness. You come here just right after I am through with my working hours." Alhaitham holds back a laugh.

A pause.

"Besides, I am well liked by the scholars and sages here ー is what I was about to say… Unlike you." You smile, awaiting his response.

"…Can I see the ointment?" Alhaitham changes the subject, a silent acceptance of defeat. You laugh and hand it over to him.

Wrapping your hands around his nape, you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"Feel any better now?"

"I like its mild scent. Did you buy a perfume version of this?" He asked.

"I did. I'll wear it every time I come to Surasthana. I can finally smell like the flowers there." You chuckle, stroking his hair.

"We should go." Go home, is what he meant.

"Perfect! I was about to invite you to come to the Razan Garden." A misinterpretation, coming from your end.

"And stay there until you fall asleep on me? You seem to treat that place as your second bedroom." In truth, he really doesn't want to go. He is exhausted and he wants to finally be able to do nothing and fall asleep.

Yet here you are. The bluish glow of the flowers in bloom blend in with the color of the starry night sky.

"Ta-da! They're in full bloom. I tended to these flowers for months. What do you think?" You cheered.

"Impressive. Here, rub the ointment on your wrists. You told me you want to smell like flowers." Alhaitham returns the ointment to you and you smile.

You both take a seat on the bench to admire the city.

Alhaitham stares at your figure, engulfed by the tranquility of the sanctuary ー both the place and the being, which to him is you.

"Haitham, do you believe in gods?" You were staring at the stars.

"I do. I believe that gods and humans should be treated as equals. I do not see the point of bowing down to such deities… Offerings made for their honor… I believe it encourages pride and self-righteousness amongst the devotees themselves, whether they are aware of it or not." Alhaitham replies.

"What if they didn't exist?"

"Then we will inevitably create ones among us."

You pondered about his reply for a moment, and he admires the way you put your fingers on your chin. How adorable, he wishes to tell you.

"Why?" You face him and seated yourself in between his thighs, head resting on his chest.

"Humans are dogmatic creatures who seek order. Even if we evolve into a society who does not serve a ruler, we will still follow a set of laws, either implemented by us or the gods themselves." He replies, and when you fall deeper into your thoughts, he adds,

"We each define order in different ways, but in the end we will always seek the common ground. No matter how stubborn one is, they are bound to seek people who are similar to them, but of course this isn't always the case."

You gather your thoughts and Alhaitham kisses your cheek.

"I haven't thought of that before."

"I'm surprised. You've read too much philosophy and fiction. I thought you'd be into these things more than I am."

You brow twitches and you look up at him.

"Is that an insult?"

"I am only describing what I have observed."

You sigh at his reply, now it is your turn to accept defeat, and to that he chuckles.

"Do you know why I love to travel a lot?" Alhaitham hums in reply.

"I want to discover the edge of Teyvat. Even if in reality, it's the last place I'm going to step foot into. To know the stories and secrets of different nations… fuels a beautiful passion in my heart."

Alhaitham suddenly hugs you tight. Was it out of endearment? Fear of not seeing you again? Admiration? You didn't bother reading too much into it, for all you know it could be all those things all at once.

So you enjoyed his presence and held his arms in return.

"We are as old as the stars. The iron in our blood… the nitrogen in our DNA… do you find it bittersweet that what embodies our lives were once in the hearts of dying stars?"

Alhaitham ruffles your hair, satisfied with your rhetoric.

"And once we pass on for the next generation to take place, the cycle continues." He agrees.

The noise of the city echoes beneath you.

Beautiful. That is one word that Alhaitham would describe you and being around you.

You could talk and ponder about anything and you never get tired of asking him questions that even he doesn't have a definite answer to.

He enjoys it. He enjoys pondering about life with you.

"You sure love to think about the General Relativity and Quantum theory by relating the cosmos and human life." He describes.

"I don't think it's supposed to be that way. Quantum theory mostly deals with atoms and particles."

"I know. I was just trying to create metaphors."

"Well…aren't they scientific?" You attempted to pull a joke.

"That's very funny." He says sarcastically, and you laughed.

"Hey, Haitham."

"Yes?"

"If you believe in gods… do you believe in my beauty?" You sat on the railing and you wiggled your brows at him expectantly.

He sighs. He doesn't just believe in it, because it's the truth. And what else are you supposed to do with the truth?

Being with you feels like time speeds and slows down altogether. He always finds himself wishing for it to last, yet he also wants it to be over to save room for a new moment with you.

"Stop asking pointless questions." He reprimands.

"But, Haitham~ I want to know."

"You already know the answer to that."

"Eh, I want to hear it from you. I cannot have my own mind drown in my delusions."

Alhaitham laughs. "Well, that happens. You like to think about farfetched things."

"That's not funny!" You pout.

Alhaitham looks into your eyes and smiles at you.

"I believe in it."

Your eyes light up, gesturing for him to continue his answer.

"I believe in your beauty. The theory of everything is nothing compared to the moments I share with you." You may or may not sense it, but his heart was beating out of his chest. It's a wonder how he managed to say that without breaking character.

"Hehe, that's more like it." You smiled and peppered kisses on his face, to which he chuckled in reply.

He doesn't want to say it out loud, but you make him want to believe such a unification of the larger and the microscopic aspects of the world and the cosmos. You make him want to stop questioning everything.

He will give you the world and bend the laws of nature if you so wish. But you're too fickle-minded and frankly, he'd rather not do that too.

He loves you and himself enough to not do such ruthless things. He likes the comfort of his current life and where it's heading.

Especially because you're in it, so he'd prefer not to cause unnecessary disturbances to ruin your relationship.

The summer night's winds course through your bodies. You shiver slightly in his hold.

"We really need to go home now." He finally decides.

"Sure, I really just wanted you to see the flowers I worked so hard on maintaining." You say casually, yawning, as if you didn't have a deep conversation just a while ago.

Yes, you truly are fickle minded. Alhaitham smiles to himself.

ー Lolita