#i try to concentrate so hard on the note but there is just silence

[seneon]

SKETCHING SPIDERS ──── rayne ames x fem! reader.

about. whatever you draw on your skin, the same drawing will appear on your soulmate as well. ROYAL! AU. sfw + suggestive, reader's surname is archer, mentions of alcohol. wc of 3.2k.

notes. i'm experimenting. also first week of exams done i have math, business & accounting next week 😭😭

overcast clouds and the grey shades engulf the vast sky. you're seated in the royal room of a class for the children of nobles, fidgeting with a clean feather quill that was played by your fingers.

as usual, it is another boring day as an academic victim of the noble standards. in a classroom full of the descendants or the next heir of royal and noble families, they were all academically intelligent. for the future of their family, of course. that is no surprise, considering you have to study hard to maintain a good status in your family of nobles.

as the tutor continued to speak his mind out about philosophy or the sort, you looked around the classroom. for a high-class classroom, there sure is quite some dust in the high ceilings that nobody could reach up to.

you see many concentric circles woven by threads at the far corner, all meeting at one common centre. a genius idea then sprouted in your mind like the multi-legged creatures that created those corner ceiling webs.

the quill that you were just fiddling with became an item to use as your teacher rambled on and on about the stars and how to read them astrologically. you used it in a wiser way rather than write a bunch of fancy words into sketching. an act that only the royal artists could carry out.

first, you dipped your quill into the ink and lightly flicked the access ink off. then you lifted the sleeves of your lace coral pink dress, turning your left arm the other way. your seatmate, nora martin, watched in silence as her eyebrows scrunched in anticipation of what you were about to do with your lifted sleeves.

“what are you attempting to execute now, lady archer?” nora asked as you shot her a tiny smile. “just a teensy bit bored from mr. valac’s lessons. m’ gonna entertain myself.”

your seatmate, nora of the martin house, does not bat her eyelash or blink in your direction. this is common for her, just like buying groceries to cook.. or waking up to brush your hair with a wooden hairbrush made out of the best wood in the kingdom. she is used to your shenanigans, even if it meant to be a little bit rebellious during the process, such as dirtying your arm in boredom.

well either way, nobody is going to lift your sleeves to inspect your arm, for it is a crime in the law. at least, to people of nobility.

the ink does not easily dry on the surface of your arm, tainting your skin in a hue of black. the feather quill was quite ticklish too, sometimes it occasionally burns mildly against your skin as the tip of the feather drags along to create a small design with the ink.

once it dried, you showed nora your masterpiece. she actually fancied the result, thus praising how good you actually are at painting. for all that you know, your drawn masterpiece will not come off as easily as staining the tip of the quill in black ink.

it is going to be hard to wash it off. to wash the ink off.

“a spider?” kaldo gehenna asked as he inspected the drawing on the left arm of his subordinate. subordinate because the gehenna and the person he speaks to is of the same ranking in the military.

“how'd that appear?”

“i have no answer for you,” rayne ames, captain level replied as he too, inspected the mark that appeared on his arm. “i believe it appeared during the day.”

“i believe so too. i mean, you didn't have it when you dressed up this morning, did you?” kaldo placed his fingers in his chin, trying to find possible solutions as to where a random marking of a spider and a few strands of web marks came from. the military isn't one to have such markings.

now that it is night and it is time to rest and let loose if the days’ happenings, the ames undressed with his most trusted subordinate and the both of them are greeted with a marking of a spider on rayne’s arms.

the knights are only glad that they wore long sleeves. if it had been exposed, rayne was sure that his arm would be sliced off for having such a marking in his arm.

“i heard there is a legend where whatever your soulmate draws on her skin, it will appear on your skin too. perhaps your soulmate drew a spider on heir skin,” the other captain said as he shrugged.

“why in the world would my soulmate draw on her arm? is she a fool?”

once again, the gehenna shrugged and carefully kept his knightly gears back to where they belong. “perhaps she was feeling bored, just like you at today's assembly. two bored souls. you can try to draw something small on your arm to see if that does anything or not.”

left in a plain white button up t-shirt and his black pants, kaldo took his belongings and waved his subordinate good-bye. “well, i hope you find your soulmate soon. you really need some romance in your life, rayne.”

when the ames went home, all he could do was stare at the spider marking on his arms. the only explanation he could gather was that his soulmate clearly used the black ink for writing to draw the insect on her arm. she didn't even try to erase the parts where it went wrong, she just drew on it to create spider webs.

his stoic golden honey eyes that were locked onto the mere insect. fingers slowly tracing over the outlines of the spider legs and the webs behind it. he admits it, his soulmate is good at drawing. perhaps she is a painter, an artist. someone who comes from a lineage of working for the royal family in the line of art.

but if she is his soulmate, why has she drawn something now? why has she not been leaving any suspicious or interesting marks on his skin in his eighteen years of living? why only now, when he was just assigned to the role of a captain in the royal military?

whatever the case, rayne ames could only keep brushing his fingers against the mark that appeared out of mere thin air. he needed to find the cause of this random marking soon.

the fifteenth birthday of the royal prince, mash burnedead. of course his family of princes would host a royal birthday party for him. and of course, all nobles are to attend the young boy's birthday celebration.

so are you and your family. your parents, who stood among all the other noble adults as you stand beside them, their mouths never ending to boast about how well you do in your academics and how well you are in arts.

as if you were their little doll to ramble on and on, you simply stood there with a tiny smile, your fingers occasionally pulling up the elbow gloves so it wouldn't reveal a single speck of the spider drawing you drew just the day before the party.

you already knew it wasn't going to come off easily, considering the quality of the ink is strong enough to stain your white satin curtains for weeks before fully coming out. your parents had forgotten to inform you about the upcoming party of the prince too, making your arm more difficult to cover up since your silk elbow glove is on the shorter side.

“father, mother, if i may excuse myself to the restroom for a few moments?” you asked in a voice that sounded like it was a beg. you just wanted out from the ordeal of having to stand for hours and listen to your parents indirectly praising you while your mouth is kept shut with no place to allow your tongue to twist and turn.

“of course, dear! be back soon, alright?” your mother replied as you nodded and took your elegant bow at them and also at the other noblemen that were lending an ear to your parents.

it was all a simple lie to get you out of this pathetic situation and to escape to somewhere where you can have your own fun and enjoy your own time, whether it being alone or finding another fellow noble that you know off, preferably someone from your class.

your preferences led you outside the ballroom, where it is far from a huge crowd, but filled with people who prefer to be outside the ballroom.

“lady archer! over here!” the monotonous voice which you recognised called out to you as a hand fan waved in the air, signalling for you to journey your way through the hallways to where nora stood.

you made your way through the velvet carpet and curtsied at your friend, before doing so to the guests around her.

“this is noir martin, my idiotic brother of the military army and his friends of the military, lord kaldo gehenna and lord rayne ames,” nora introduced as you curtsied once again.

“they are looking for women to cheer their champagne to,” a horrified expression formed on your friend's face as she pointed her fan towards her elder brother. “especially this man.”

noir held his hands in the air for defense. “hey hey, little sister. it is normal for men who want to find a beautiful wife, isn't it?”

“not if you're a captain leading an army of hundreds of soldiers! they usually perish in battle like the strong mighty soldier they are, honouring their kingdom.”

the martins conversed in an argumentative conversation, kaldo occasionally joining in. while you stood beside nora, covering your left arm. if not, you'd keep pulling your elbow glove up.

it was no surprise that the attentive ames was silently observing you, a gorgeous noblewoman who will soon benefit to the future of the kingdom. the ames is to, one day, serve you, since you are an honoured ally of the royal family.

“oh uhm, i am quite anxious…” you averted his gaze, hands subconsciously moving to cover your arm as rayne's eyes followed your hands. “is there a problem with your arm? are you hurt?”

“you seem to be anxious,” rayne said.

that voice. the honeyed, yet silky voice almost no one in the military dares to defy. it was an addictively dangerous voice to the hearts and souls of many women.

“no! i’m not!”

there it was. the little sneaky spider legs that peeked out from the edge of your satin piece, though unknown to the people around. there was one person that knew about it though. he just happened to blink before he could see the leg peeking out.

“if you insist…” the knight slowly nodded, his hands travelling to the same arm that the spider appeared.

how odd. he's technically doing the same thing you are doing. it's just a different direction to what other humans in the hallways perceive.

“my name is rayne ames, captain of the royal military army. my brother finn goes to the royal academy too,” he bowed.

you did your part to introduce yourself as a proper lady. like any other proper gentleman, rayne took your hands in his and gave your knuckles a chaste kiss.

something he did to your fingers made you flutter on the inside. it was as if he invited butterflies into your body just by his lips touching the silk of your glove. it was no different for the kiss. he kept it chaste, but there was an unexplainable reason that tells you it wasn't just a gentleman gesture he was showing you.

well, the night went past with your newly made friend from the military who shared a mutual amount of laughs and jokes with you throughout the night. what could possibly go wrong?

“sir! there's a spider on your hand!” the voice of a knight exclaimed as rayne glanced at his hands, his eyes widening a little before he attempted to slap it away.

but it does not go away.

it stays.

just like the spider drawing that randomly appeared out of nowhere, completely fading after a few days. but now, a new mark appears. and a new accusation arises.

“could it be his soulmate!?”

“lord ames, perhaps your soulmate is nearby!”

“you fancy spiders, captain?”

the male slapped his palms against his forehead at the words of his soldiers. surely the mark has to appear at a strategy meeting where he is specifically pointing at other nations. there couldn't be a better timing where his hands weren't in the view of other people.

now his darling soulmate has to draw on her hand, close to her thumb, the same silly spider drawing again that appears as a temporary marking to the ames.

as if one time wasn't enough for the rayne to embarrass him and allow his comrades to lose focus of their goals— the marks appear at many other times in situations where he couldn't control. all over his arm.

one night he sat down at his armchair, surrounded by the crackling sounds of the fire. rayne took kaldo’s idea, dipping his feather into washable ink and wrote a stop drawing on your arm with his quill.

a mere simple no form. in response, rayne rolled his eyes, scoffing at how cocky the person on the other end is. he wanted to get this over with so his teammates would seal their mouth shut in the absence of a spider drawing randomly spawning on his skin.

it was hilarious, since it was only his left arm that received such a vulgar insect drawing. rayne gave up and put away his writing materials and went to slumber. he pray that the spider drawings would soon end and he would finally have peace in the army. and also to meet his soulmate who is so interested in spiders.

noir martin is officially wedded to a woman from the house of irvine, to a beautiful classmate of yours, lemon. and the world is to congratulate and celebrate the happiness of the newlywed.

“when am i be wedded to a handsome and strong man…” you muttered to yourself as you let out a sigh. “i could've sworn my soulmate wrote back to me.”

unfortunately your mutters were heard by rayne who stood beside you, serving as your escort for the day.

“oh? how do you already know your soulmate?”

“well. i draw. then he simply told me to stop drawing.”

rayne raised a brow. “if he's your soulmate, then why did he ask you to stop drawing?” in his mind, this soulmate of yours is an extremely selfish and rude man that doesn't deserve you at all.

“because i’m embarrassing him in front of his friends with my spiders.”

spiders.

“spiders?”

“spiders.”

his jaw slightly let loose. rayne couldn't focus on anything else other than to watch your lips move as you complained about your soulmate and spiders.

“my dearest lady y/n of the archer house,” the ames gently took your hand in his and bowed, remaining in his posture, he says, “may i commit a crime and steal you away for a few moments?”

spiders are your new favourite thing to draw now ever since that boring day in your philosophy lesson.

rayne just happened to the extra canvas.

a field of red roses tinted your cheeks red as you ceased the smile that threatened to surface.

“yes you may, lord ames.”

as you finished uttering your words, rayne took your hand to guide you through the huge and long halls of the martin estate. it was silent all the way and you felt nervous. as if there were thousands of spiders who slowly crawled up your back, giving you the chills yet the nervousness that embraced you.

he led you out the huge garden, never stopping until he reached the point where there were stone benches. being the gentleman he is, rayne told you to take a seat as he took off the white glove he wore on his left arm.

rayne took a seat himself, setting his gloves to the side. all while your eyes followed his actions, including the little mark that was just a bit above his pinky finger. you recognised that mark as you seemingly lit up upon seeing it.

“that's a—”

“spider.”

without hesitation, you took out your left arm’s glove. nobody is going to walk into the garden anyways, so it's safe to take off your glove. golden honey eyes immediately locking its gaze onto the same spider that was in the same exact position as the one on rayne's fingers.

“you’re my soulmate!” you exclaimed, gasping in the process.

the corner of rayne’ lips curved upwards a little as he nodded, his fingers tracing the spider that was imprinted on his fingers.

rayne ames is now tracing the undone spider sketches, smudging the ink all over your right thigh as you could feel his hot, ragged breath on your cheek. you faced the other way, your own breath heavy as you shifted in your position.

“trying to draw a spider on your thigh while i’m away on a mission by the king's orders tells me how much you miss me. how much you need me,” rayne said, his golden eyes staring into yours. “then you tried to sketch another in my presence, my lady. what are you trying to do?”

first of all, how did you get into this situation where both you are under the military captain as he cornered you?

long story short, you were out with your lady friends, and they were all drinking the night away. as your carriages came to pick you up and your lady-in-waiting cleaned you up after the night full of consuming the kingdom's finest alcohols, soberness left your mind.

the worst is the honoured son of the ames family arriving at your family's estate to give them an emergency visit. well you were not in a state to be speaking to guests, so you were kept in your room.

but rayne insisted on a visit to his beloved darling, and he too, ended up being drunk from the alcohol that you shoved into his mouth with the bottle that you sneaked in the house.

“i need you… and you need me too,” you muttered, lazy eyes scanning all over the white button up t-shirt that rayne wears. how it would be so easy to just tear them open right now.

“do i have you to myself?” rayne set his head at the crook of your neck, shifting up so his mouth comes in contact with your shoulders. the man slightly pulled down the lace sleeves, exposing your bare shoulders to him.

with rayne's lips on your shoulders, you hummed under your breath, resulting in a kiss.

“you are my woman. my soulmate, y/n.”

“forever yours,” you whispered into his ears as he continued to press chaste kisses onto your shoulder, his other hand leaving your sketched and messy thigh to snake it around your waist.

“i’m going to kiss you until those spiders all over your body are all messy. and you will do the same to me, darling.”

TAGS ★ @kyoghurts @caelivir @dragonictears @anqelically @hasumiis @raynesbunny @vash-yuu @sakireiz @futuristicxie @redlabelboom @ilovecandys2010

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[cheynovak]

Echoes and Shadows

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N           

Warnings:  Fights, gunshots, mentioning of child abuse, ... 

Side note: English isn’t my first language    

Words:  3800 

Cursive are memories

*Does not follow the boys storyline * 

--    

Autumn of 1950, Soldier Boy, the embodiment of rugged heroism and Vought-American's premier supe, was summoned to a high-rise office overlooking New York City. The meeting was brief, direct, and left a bitter taste in his mouth.  

His new assignment: train a young girl named Y/N, a fresh supe with a "girl next door" persona. To Soldier Boy, it felt like a waste of time. Why did he had to train her, there had to be other tasks for the world’s greatest hero!  

When they first met, Y/N stood in stark contrast to the grizzled Soldier Boy. She had an optimistic gleam in her eyes and a smile that seemed permanently etched on her face. She was eager to learn, but Soldier Boy couldn’t stand her naivety.  

“Listen up, kid,” he grumbled during their first training session. “Being a supe isn’t about smiles and handshakes. It’s about getting the job done. And sometimes, it gets messy. I don’t think you can handle that."  

Y/N shook her head, determination shining in her eyes. “I can handle it. I want to help people, no matter what it takes.” Soldier Boy sneered. “We’ll see about that.” He was relentless in his training.  

Every day, he pushed her to her limits, both physically and mentally. Gruelling obstacle courses, intense combat drills, and brutal sparring sessions became her new routine. Whenever she stumbled, he was there with a cutting remark.  

“Come on, sweetheart, is that the best you’ve got?” he’d taunt. “Real heroes don’t get tired. Real heroes don’t complain.” Despite his harshness, Y/N refused to give up. She endured his gruelling regimen with a quiet resilience that began to chip away at Soldier Boy’s disdain. 

She didn’t just want to be a hero; she wanted to prove herself, and her perseverance was impossible to ignore. One day, during a particularly brutal training exercise, Soldier Boy pushed her to the edge.  

She was exhausted, her body bruised and battered, but she stood her ground. “Why do you keep doing this?” he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. “Why don’t you just quit? You’re too soft for this job.”  

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes unwavering. “Because I believe in doing the right thing. Because I believe in helping people, no matter how hard it gets. And because I know I can be a hero, even if you don’t believe it.” He rolled his eyes "Sure sweetheart."  

Months passed, and Y/N grew stronger, more skilled, and more confident, and as her confidence grew so did her abilities. Y/N seemed to be able to put up a defence barrier, holding back bullets, if she concentrated good enough, she could even use it as an extra force to her punches. Besides that, she healed quick and what time would tell, didn’t age. 

She always kept that kindness in her eyes, but it was now tempered with a steely resolve. She had become everything Soldier Boy had initially doubted she could be. One evening, after a particularly grueling session, Soldier Boy handed Y/N a cold beer.  

It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes. She stared at it for a moment, hesitating. "I'm only 18," she said softly, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Soldier Boy scoffed, rolling his eyes.  

"Stop being such an uptight bitch all the time. It's just a beer." Y/N took the bottle reluctantly, the cool glass against her palm feeling unfamiliar and slightly intimidating. She hesitated, then took a small sip.  

The bitterness of the beer mirrored the bitter moments she had faced during training, the relentless drills, and Soldier Boy’s cutting remarks. They sat in silence for a while, the city’s night sounds filtering in through the open window.  

Y/N glanced at Soldier Boy, trying to decipher the man behind the harsh exterior. “Why did you agree to train me?” she asked quietly. Soldier Boy took a long swig from his own bottle before answering.  

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Vought’s orders.” He paused, his gaze distant. “But you’re not as hopeless as I thought." Y/N felt a small swell of pride at his words. Coming from Soldier Boy, it was high praise indeed.  

She took another sip, the beer tasting a little less bitter now. “Thanks,” she said with a little smile, proud of the first compliment her childhood hero gave her. Soldier Boy grunted in response. 

Present day 

Y/N had left the noise and chaos of the city far behind, finding solace in the peaceful rhythm of farm life. The fields stretched out in a patchwork of greens and browns, and the farmhouse, with its weathered wood and creaking floors, stood as a testament to a simpler, quieter existence.  

She was tending to her garden when she saw them approaching: a group of men, rough around the edges and clearly out of place in the tranquil countryside. Her guard went up immediately.  

Butcher, with his perpetual scowl, led the way, his intense gaze locking onto her. Hughie followed, looking slightly out of his element but determined. Frenchie and Kimiko were close behind, each with their own brand of intensity.  

But it was M.M., standing a bit apart from the rest, who caught her attention. There was a steadiness in his eyes, a calm that seemed at odds with the chaos that surrounded the group.  

Y/N straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron as they came to a stop in front of her. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice cold and wary. Butcher stepped forward, but M.M. gently placed a hand on his shoulder, signalling him to let M.M. handle it.  

Butcher hesitated, then nodded, stepping back with a reluctant grunt. “Miss Y/N, my name is MM, I, no we, need your help. Taking down Homelander.” Y/N crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. "And why would I help you? I retired to the countryside for peace. "  

M.M. nodded, as if he understood. "I get it. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t just about revenge or taking down supes for the sake of it. We found out about a weapon, something that could kill Soldier Boy. If it can kill him, it can kill Homelander. And... it could probably kill you too. I presume you want to keep living?" 

She flinched at that, the reality of her vulnerability striking a chord she didn’t want to acknowledge. "Why should I trust you?" she asked, her voice softer but still laced with suspicion. "Because we’re trying to do the right thing," M.M. said simply.  

"We’re trying to protect people. And I think, deep down, that’s what you’ve always wanted to do too. You’ve got no reason to trust us, but we don’t have any reason to lie to you either. We need your help to find this weapon. If it exists, it’s our best shot at stopping Homelander. And if we don’t, a lot of innocent people are going to die."  

There was a long silence as Y/N weighed his words. She glanced at the other members of The Boys, reading the desperation and determination etched into their faces. Finally, she looked back at M.M., seeing in him a glimmer of the same hope and resolve that had once driven her.  

"Alright," she said at last, her voice steady. "I’ll help you. But only because I believe someone needs to stop Homelander. And if you’re lying to me, I’ll make sure you regret it." M.M. smiled, a genuine warmth in his expression.  

"Fair enough. We’re grateful for your help, Y/N." As they began to discuss their plan, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. She had tried to leave her past behind, but it seemed the fight for justice had found her once again. And this time, she was determined to see it through to the end. 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the farm, Y/N found herself alone for a moment, she agreed they could stay at her place for the night. She leaned against the porch railing, enjoying the cool breeze.  

Her mind wandered back to her time as a supe, a life that seemed so distant now. Hughie approached hesitantly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He had a look of curiosity mixed with apprehension.  

"Hey," he started, a bit awkwardly. "Mind if I ask you something?" Y/N glanced at him, her guard momentarily lowered. "Sure, go ahead." Hughie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking around the porch.  

"I noticed there aren’t many pictures of you. Almost none, actually. W-why is that?" She laughed, a sound tinged with both amusement and bitterness. "Vought made sure the world would forget about me," she explained.  

"When I left, they erased almost every trace of my existence. Photos, records, everything. They didn’t want anyone to remember a supe who walked away from it all." Hughie nodded, taking in her words. "That's... harsh. But I guess I shouldn't be surprised, considering Vought."  

Y/N sighed, her eyes distant. "Yeah, that's Vought. Controlling the narrative, always." There was a pause, then Hughie asked another question that had been on his mind. "What was Soldier Boy like?" Y/N's expression softened, a mix of nostalgia and sadness crossing her face.  

"He was... complicated. A real hard-ass, tough as nails, and absolutely relentless. He could be a real jerk, too, always pushing people to their limits, addict... you name it.” A little pause, she added more a reminder to herself than to him, “But underneath all that, he was just... human."  

Hughie listened intently, sensing there was more to the story. "Did you ever get along with him?" She smiled faintly. "Eventually, yes. It took a while." Hughie looked thoughtful. "Do you think he would have been able to help us with Homelander, if he was still around?"  

Y/N shrugged, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "It's hard to say. Soldier Boy was powerful, but he had his own flaws and demons. He might have helped, or he might have made things worse. We'll never know." 

The next day they left for Russia 

The private plane hummed steadily as it cut through the night sky, its cabin dimly lit. The Boys were scattered around, each lost in their thoughts or quietly discussing their plan. Y/N sat by a window, staring out into the inky blackness. 

Butcher had a lead on the weapon that supposedly killed Soldier Boy, and they were heading to Russia to find it. As the drone of the engines filled her ears, Y/N felt herself slipping into a memory, a flashback to a mission that had happened decades ago in Russia, during her time with Soldier Boy.  

-- 

The mission was critical, a high-stakes operation deep in enemy territory. Y/N and Soldier Boy were tasked with infiltrating a heavily fortified facility to retrieve vital intelligence. The plan was simple: she would create a distraction as he got the job done.  

They had worked out the details meticulously, but plans rarely survived first contact with the enemy. Y/N had managed to draw the guards’ attention, using her powers to create enough chaos to give Soldier Boy the opening he needed. It worked, until she got shot multiple times.  

She found herself cornered in a narrow hallway, the walls lined with steel and concrete. There was no way out. Gunfire echoed around her, the sharp sound of bullets ricocheting off the walls. She took cover behind a weak force shield, her heart pounding.  

She could hear the guards closing in, their footsteps growing louder. As one hand shield her the other pushed down on her leg to stop the bleeding. "I’m trapped!" she shouted into her comm.  

"There’s no way out!" For a few agonizing moments, there was only static in response. Then, his voice crackled through. "Hold on, kid." The minutes stretched into what felt like hours as she waited, the sound of gunfire and shouting closing in.  

She fought off the guards as best she could, using her powers as offence instead to keep them at bay, but she knew she couldn't hold out much longer. Just when she thought it was over, an explosion rocked the hallway. The steel door at the end of the corridor burst open, and there he was. 

Soldier Boy, a look of fierce determination on his face. He tore through the guards with brutal efficiency, clearing a path to her. "Let’s go!" he shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet. Together, they fought their way out of the facility, Soldier Boy covering her as they made their escape.  

When they finally reached the extraction point, she collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily grabbing her leg. "You okay?" he asked, kneeling beside her, his voice uncharacteristically gentle as he tied on of his belts around her leg. She nodded, looking up at him with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thanks for coming back for me."  

He shrugged, but there was a softness in his eyes.  

--  

The memory faded, and Y/N found herself back on the plane, the steady hum of the engines replacing the echoes of the past. She glanced around at the faces of The Boys, each one focused on the mission ahead. She felt a renewed sense of purpose, a reminder of why she had joined them.  

M.M. caught her eye from across the cabin, giving her a reassuring nod. She returned it with a small smile. The private plane landed in a secluded airstrip in Russia under the cover of night.  

The Boys, along with Y/N, moved swiftly through the dense forest surrounding the remote facility where they believed the weapon that killed Soldier Boy was hidden. The facility loomed ahead, a monolithic structure guarded by heavily armed soldiers and state-of-the-art security systems.  

Butcher led the way, his eyes sharp and focused. "Alright, stay close and keep it quiet. We don’t want to alert the whole damn place." They approached the facility’s perimeter, M.M. disabling the security cameras and motion sensors with expert precision.  

They slipped inside, navigating the labyrinthine corridors with a mix of stealth and speed. But their luck didn’t hold for long. As they rounded a corner, they came face-to-face with a squad of Russian soldiers. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.  

Then, chaos erupted. Butcher was the first to react, launching himself at the nearest soldier with a fierce battle cry. His fists connected with brutal efficiency, taking the soldier down before he could raise his weapon.  

The sound of gunfire exploded around them as the rest of the squad sprang into action. Y/N used her powers to create a force field, deflecting bullets and giving The Boys a chance to take cover. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline, her senses sharpening as the fight intensified.  

Frenchie and Kimiko moved as a deadly pair, Frenchie’s precise gunfire complemented by Kimiko’s lethal hand-to-hand combat skills. Hughie, still relatively new to the chaos of battle, ducked behind a crate, his heart pounding.  

He peeked out, firing his weapon at the soldiers, hitting one in the leg and causing him to drop his gun. M.M. took advantage of the opening, charging forward and disarming the soldier with a swift, practiced move. He turned, his eyes scanning the room for the next threat.  

"Y/N, cover us!" Butcher shouted, taking down another soldier with a vicious uppercut. Y/N nodded, focusing her energy to create a larger shield, pushing back the advancing soldiers. She could feel the strain, but she held her ground, giving The Boys the chance to regroup and counterattack.  

As the fight raged on, they moved deeper into the facility. The corridors echoed with the sounds of battle, gunfire, shouts, and the clash of metal. They fought their way through waves of soldiers, each skirmish bringing them closer to their goal.  

Finally, they reached a heavily reinforced door at the heart of the facility. Butcher and M.M. worked quickly to breach the door, using a combination of explosives and brute force. The door blew open with a deafening blast, revealing a dark, cold chamber beyond.  

They stepped inside, weapons raised, ready for anything. The room was dimly lit, the walls lined with strange, high-tech equipment. In the centre a large, metal cryogenic chamber, Butcher ripped the door off.  

"Bloody hell," Butcher muttered, lowering his weapon slightly.  

Y/N stepped forward, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and recognition. She froze for a second, unable to believe her eyes. There he was...Soldier Boy encased in the cryogenic chamber.  

The gas began to dissipate, and the machinery hissed as he torn the bands that had its grip on him. Ben’s eyes fluttered open, and he tumbled out of the container, gasping for air. "Ben!" Y/N shouted, rushing forward to catch him before he hit the ground.  

She knelt beside him, her arms around his shoulders, steadying him as he struggled to regain his balance. For a brief moment, their eyes met. She saw confusion and recognition flicker in his eyes, but it quickly turned to something darker rage.  

His expression twisted with fury, and his body began to glow. "Ben, it’s me, Y/N," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. But her words didn’t seem to reach him. The radiation started to build, the air around him crackling with energy.  

Before Y/N could react, Kimiko lunged forward, pushing her aside just as a blast of radiation erupted from Ben’s body. The force of the blast sent through the wall. The smoke and debris settled slightly, revealing Ben staggering through the chaos, his steps heavy and disoriented.  

His chest still glowed with residual energy, and he seemed to be in a daze, not fully aware of his surroundings. Ben, stop!" Y/N cried, her voice breaking with emotion. She took a step forward, her heart aching at the sight of him in such a state. but he walked away.  

As they returned to America, Y/N's mind was filled with a tumult of emotions. They had narrowly escaped Russia, but Kimiko's injuries weighed heavily on her. She watched as Butcher spoke to the team, his tone gruff and dismissive.  

"Soldier Boy isn't our problem," he said, his words cutting through the air. Y/N felt a surge of anger and frustration rise, she wanted to stay and find him. But she understood Kimiko needed help. “Why would he do that?” Hughie asked.  

Y/N’s mind drifted away.  

-- 

It was a late night, the night before the announcement of Payback as Soldier Boy's new team. Y/N had returned home after a long day of training, only to find Ben sitting on her couch, a bottle of whiskey in hand and a weary expression on his face.  

She couldn’t help but be annoyed at the sight of him. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, her voice mingled with concern. Ben shrugged, taking a swig from the bottle. "Figured you owed me one since I saved that pretty little ass of yours."  

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Fine. What's wrong?" As she settled onto the couch beside him, she couldn’t help but notice the sadness in his eyes, the weight of the world on his shoulders. "What’s eating you, Ben?" she asked, her tone gentle.  

Ben sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm a fucking disappointment" he said, his voice tinged with bitterness. “What?” Y/N asked before she listened as he opened up about his father’s abuse, the years of torment and neglect.  

Ben's father was a formidable presence in his life, but not in the way a father should be. He was a hard man, cold and unyielding, his words like knives cutting into Ben's fragile sense of self-worth.  

From a young age, Ben was subjected to his father's wrath, enduring physical and emotional abuse that left scars both seen and unseen. His father's beatings were brutal and frequent, leaving Ben battered and bruised, his spirit broken.  

But it was the words that cut the deepest, the constant reminders of his perceived failures, the insults hurled at him like daggers. He was called weak, a disappointment, a disgrace to the family name.  

For years, Ben internalized his father's harsh judgments, believing himself to be unworthy of love or respect. He built walls around his heart, his rough exterior a shield against the pain and rejection he had endured for so long.  

He learned to bury his emotions deep, to keep people at arm's length, lest they see the vulnerability he tried so desperately to hide.  

Y/N had seen glimpses of Ben's pain before, but it wasn't until that night, when he had opened up to her about his father, that she truly understood the depth of his suffering. She saw the scars, both physical and emotional, that his father had left behind. 

She saw the pain etched into his features, the vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone else. And in that moment, she understood him in a way she hadn’t before. "Why did you put up with it?" she asked, her voice soft. 

Ben shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "It’s not that simple, Y/N. You don’t just walk away from family, no matter how screwed up they are." Y/N reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.  

"You’ve got people who care about you, you know that right?" As their eyes met, and Y/N saw something flicker in Ben's gaze, a mix of emotions surged within her.  

But before she could fully process them, Ben leaned in, his intention clear. His lips moved towards hers, seeking solace in the warmth of the moment. Y/N's heart raced, her instincts conflicting with her emotions. As his lips hovered inches from hers, her fingers landed gently on his lips, halting his advance.  

"Ben," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with regret. "This isn't a good idea." She had thought about this moment before, wondered what it would be like to be with him. But now, with him drunk and high on who knows what, she couldn't bring herself to take advantage of him in this vulnerable state.  

It wouldn't be fair to either of them. Ben's expression shifted from longing to confusion, then to frustration. He pulled away abruptly, his eyes clouded with anger and hurt. "Fine," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Your loss."  

Y/N watched him go, her heart heavy with regret. She knew she had made the right choice, but that didn't make it any easier to see him walk away. She never wanted to hurt him. 

-- 

As she heard MM talking to Frenchie and Kimiko she looked over. Seeing how badly Kimiko was hurt.  

Knowing she needed to find Ben ASAP before he hurts anymore people. 

To be continued...

------

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@suckitands33

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[lost-and-found-jc]

How are people who didn't go to music school or have played an instrument supposed to do prima vista? It's so fast and I am losing my mind. And I can't hit the notes precisely enough. T_T I sing two notes and forget what the first one sounded like.

[cosmicmakos]

imagine your f/o being a welcome distraction from the work you're currently doing (and maybe being annoying in their bid for your attention - but they're cute so it's fine)

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[bambiesfics]

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗘𝗹𝘀’ 𝗖𝗼𝗰𝗸 — Ellie x Bimbo!reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie’s butch, wears a strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc. Reader’s a bimbo. Just a filthy, filthy description of how you have to cockwarm your butch girlfriend, Ellie. Slight aftercare at the end too for you, considering how much she just stretched your tiny hole.

𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. This heartfelt post may give you a sense of Ellie’s headspace. And this

!!! [ Please help Palestine ] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

You were restless and lonely. Ellie had spent the better part of the afternoon preoccupied with the LED modules shuffled in her laptop, attempting to receive her ServSafe certificate. The online test had been eating up all her time, and Ellie sometimes chastised you for being overly needy n’ pouty when she had her hands full with things to do. So you tried to not add to her plate by pressing for attention, or conversation today. No matter how much you wanted to chit-chat with her. You wanted to be good more than anything.

No one saw you and Ellie as a compatible match, if it wasn’t already made visually obvious, it was definitely made obvious the second you popped your pink lips open to speak, while the brunette butch brooded behind you. This was a chance to shush all those insecurities that crept over you and told you that Ellie could be with a smarter, more capable, more self-reliant girl. You wanted to be a good fit for her. So you distracted yourself by jumping through social media apps, flipping through old cosmo magazines, and touching up the corner of your acrylic toe set with some white polish you kept carefully placed in her desk. But none of that worked. You were bored with everything you’d tried. Worse, your girlfriend had been looking so handsome in her loose plaid button up and dad jeans, as she slumped in her kitchen stool. It was getting so hard to remain detached and unaffected by the pristine silence in the house when you would pass by to check up on her.

Every so often Ellie’s pretty face would cutely scrunch up whenever she was puzzled by a question, which made for very testing times. But not as testing as when Ellie did that thing where she yanked at and ruffled her scruffy wolf cut, when she was in deep concentration. It was the cutest little boyish tic. You had nearly broken your own resolve to go run to her arms and litter her cheeks in glossy kisses. Which all made it so hard to have her near, as handsome as she was, and have her not even look up at you once. Not even allowed to step in her embrace, held by her toned arms, her sweet cologne and that woodsy scented jacket.

You were moping, and that moping turned into whining, and whining turned into annoyed flashes from Ellie’s eyes every time you got too squeaky. Those flashes turned into scowls, and that led to Ellie groaning at you.

“Can I help you with something?”

Ellie’s face was unamused, and it made you straighten your spine.

“N-no.”

“Great. Thanks.” She replied, her voice was just dripping in sarcasm. But that little flash of attention you had received filled your tummy with happy butterflies, until it went right back to her laptop.

You felt a twinge in your chest at how quickly she tuned you out. Did she not wanna talk to you at all? Ask about your day? Wanna know about the influencer gossip you found online? None of it?

“Meanie” you pouted while nudging your chin into your palm and clacking your acrylics on the granite. She didn’t have to say it so mean, she was usually sweeter n’ sillier. But today Ellie was a big meanie.

Ellie huffed and held back a massive eye roll. She stuck her head deeper into her laptop, she had to pretend you weren’t there. This test was important to her. You were too, but this seriously mattered more. Ellie needed more money. She needed to find a better apartment to rent, she needed to be able to support you the way she wanted too, and she needed a position with better hours so she could visit Joel's grave more regularly. You knew all that, so Ellie knew your whining wasn’t from ignorance, it was from childishness. She hated indulging you when you were childish. It was bad manners.

But she also knew if this went on long enough you might start silently crying in your pillow because you felt like your girlfriend hated you. You were clearly feeling neglected by Ellie, and coupled with her little sarcastic quip just a moment ago, Ellie wouldn’t put it past you to start sniffling within the next few hours. You were so pathetic. Ellie often joked that if you weren’t human you would’ve been the little runt abandoned by your pack for being so weak and whiny. And Ellie would’ve been a large reptile; a komodo dragon, who felt bad enough that instead of eating your tiny ass she would’ve raised you. Ellie had a weird little obsession with pliocene history, and because you were dumb, with a brain full of makeup and miniskirts, it went over your head 99% of the time. But Ellie knew you well, and she knew that more than outright being ignored, you hated the feeling that you made Els upset with you. It was your little runt nature, to always seek the validation of the large cold-blooded reptile in charge of your care that could still decide to eat you if you pissed her off enough. This relationship was almost ironically engineered.

Ellie understood you way too well.

Ellie tugged at her hair, because GOD you were such a piece of work. An adorable one, but still, a piece of fucking work!

“Okay.” Ellie breathed out. She ran her palms down her jeans, and spread her thighs farther apart. When Ellie manspread like that, you knew what it meant. But you still wanted her to say it. “Come here baby, come take a seat on me.”

“You sure?” you said hesitantly. Your gaze nervously flickered between her lap and floor.

“Need my baby girl right here,” Ellie said. She cocked her eyebrow and grabbed her bulge tightly. Enticing you.

Your eyes flew open. Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, like a gaping fish. You wanted Ellie’s attention, maybe to perch on her lap while she worked, but that movement meant something else entirely.

Ellie continued on, enjoying the surprise on your face a little too much. “Since you can’t sit still, come sit on this.” Ellie pulled her zipper down slowly, and shoved her fist in the opening; to fish out her hard cock out of her boxers, and rest it on her thigh. You gulped.

Your eyes fluttered between looking at Ellie's long shaft, and at her face. You could tell from her expression that she wasn’t bluffing. She looked very amused, and very curious as to what you’d do next. “W-what about your test?” You quipped. She lifted the base of her cock, “don’t worry about that, just come take a quick seat on this until you feel better.” You went to her lap, and nervously kept looking back at the cock she expected you to sink onto as you backed up on Ellie’s thighs. Ellie whispered “Why are you nervous princess? You’ve taken this before.”

Which made your hole flutter from the teasing smugness in her voice.

You had taken Ellie’s cock before. But after some prep, after lots of kisses from her, and after your slick was coating your engorged pussy lips from intense arousal. Not by just sitting on it while she was busy attacking a server’s exam.

Your eyes were glossy, Ellie found them so sparkly. You bunched your babydoll camisole higher up your tummy, and spread your ass cheeks. It was a good thing you loved prancing around Ellie’s apartment with no panties, it made spontaneous poundings so much easier. You lined up your hole with Ellie’s cockhead. “Good, now just sink down.” She fisted the base of her dick towards your vagina to help you. You slowly sunk onto her cock, taking it inch by inch. “Nhng, Ellie! feels too big, too big!” You clamped up as another inch forcefully popped through that tight little entrance. Ellie shushed you softly, rubbing circles in your back as she fed you her cock, until she was buried only a few inches deep. You couldn’t take her all the way down, and somehow you were so full. It felt like Ellie’s cock was pressing deep into your tummy. You had to hold back from whining to her about how her cock was definitely in your stomach, probably poking around in there. She’d shushed you for that silly idea once before and teased you for being so airheaded. Not like Ellie had expected you to have any better than a ditzy girl's understanding of anatomy anyway.

But as you felt her cock stretch you open, it was starting to feel like that again, like her cock was in your womb. It felt like Ellie was taking up all the space inside of you. She stretched your plump walls around her like you were her fleshlight. A fleshlight that was stretched to mold around every vein and ridge in Ellie’s cock.

You flexed your ass cheeks, and clamped your cunt around her cock, you tested for how much give you had to bounce up and down. But you gave up almost as soon as you tried lifting off the first time. The base of her cock was just too thick. Ellie felt stuck inside you. Like a wedding band wrapped around a chubby finger. You whimpered at the way her cockhead bumped all those squishy places inside your cunt. Ellie reassured you “Shhh don’t worry about bouncing baby, I’m nearly splitting you open. Just stay right here and get used to this angle.” Ellie turned her gaze back towards her laptop, and picked up from the last module she left off at.

Meanwhile your lower lip was trembling because your girlfriend's cock was resting inside your vagina, it was poking your cervix and rubbing along your walls in ways that made your tummy feel funny. The soreness was starting to subside but the fullness didn’t, and you wanted to move around a little bit. “E-Ellie i-it’s hard to move. No room,” you pouted over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to move, baby. You’re in timeout. Just sit and get my cock nice n’ warm.” Ellie turned her gaze back to her laptop as her other fingers drew slow circles in your lower back. It was such a brazenly lazy attempt at support, but Ellie’s main goal was to distract you — not make you feel pampered.

But you’d get that after anyway.

You tried grinding her cock in you, just to put the pressure of her cockhead in other places and not directly kissing the roof of your cunt. Ellie’s eyes flickered to where you two were connected and she thumbed the sensitive skin there. Which made you pull off slightly, you mewled at the sensitization you felt from her ministrations. Your hole was throbbing everywhere.

Ellie moaned at the sight, “you’re stretched so thin here, how did I fit inside you?”

You kept up with your poor attempts to grind n’ gyrate, so Ellie’s gaze traveled up towards your hips. She palmed your squishy ass; then skirted her fingers over your asshole. Ellie sunk her thumb into your asshole, just stopping at the first knuckle where her metal ring rested and whispered in your back. “I told you to stay baby.”

“Ellie no! Don’t touch over there!” You cried from embarrassment, you got so hot when she did that.

She smiled into your back “Why you shy cause I’m thumbing you right here? After your tiny cunt just swallowed my entire length? Please” Ellie smiled into your back.

Ellie’s attention kept jumping between completing her modules and questions and groping some sensitive part of your body. She’d mutter “You’re so tiny, wish you could see how much you’re stretched around me, plugged you up good.” Just to watch the hairs on your nape rise and watch how your hole contracted around her length from her words. Ellie rolled her narrow hips in circular motions, letting you get some little relief from the fat cock bullying your hole, by giving you some friction. The friction felt amazing on her clit too, rubbing along the puffy nub in a way that made heat pool in her belly.

Soon enough Ellie was biting back her own horny grunts, pressure building in her own cunt from the press of the harness. She kept up a slow circular grind to make her little baby feel good, and not feel so stretched out. But Ellie really considered chasing a silent orgasm for herself, it felt delicious to be in you.

You were dizzy with sensations, cock bumping your spongy g-spot just right. Your neglected clit was angry and red, but you were drunk on Ellie’s grinding. You were slurring all whiny “love your fat cock s’much Ellie. S’much ahh, love your coo-ock ahnnng.” Ellie’s hands came up to grope and squeeze your fatty tits. Because FUCK YOU for nearly making her bust after saying that. She kept grinding until your sloppy hole was doing butterflies on her cock. Slick dripping past the seal where you were wrapped around her shaft. Your hole was squeezing and releasing, over and over again as your orgasm tipped you over the edge and your toes turned pointed straight. The bottom of your fingers and palms had turned pink and red from how tight your fist was.

Ellie slowed down the grinding, she was happy enough you got your orgasm. The grinding felt nice on her clit, but she was more grateful at the fact that you might get sleepy and tap out. And she’d actually get some work done for once.

Ellie pulled you off her cock, and onto her lap. She smoothed a hand down your back as you winced when she pulled out. Your cum dribbled out of your weeping little pussy, globs of stringy cum seeped into Ellie’s pants after being plugged up by her cock. It was a mess you frequently made on Ellie after sex. It was evidence of a job well done; and a satiated princess.

You sniffled as you turned in Ellie’s embrace. “You sleepy?” Ellie asked

“Mhmmm” you moaned in her shoulder.

“I got you, you little princess. C’mon hold onto my shirt” Ellie guided your trembling hand to the collar of her button up and shushed you with sweet words about how “well you took her.” Ellie rocked you softly as she went back to her test, by the time you’d knocked out she’d completed a good chunk of her modules. She rocked you until your sniffles had quieted and you were fast asleep on her lap. She tucked her cock haphazardly into her boxers. You could sink onto it again after you woke up from your short nap.

Ellie spanked your ass, and felt the recoil jiggle against her palm. She shushed you again as you stirred from the assault. She whispered “I deserve a little treat after dealing with this bratty ass all day. I’m joking… I got you baby.”

After 45 minutes of not a single distraction to pull her attention away, Ellie completed her test. A solid 93%, way above a passing grade. Good enough to get her ServSafe certificate, and definitely good enough to start serving at her restaurant, and get better pay and better tips.

Ellie kissed the top of your head,

“Did it, peach.”

“Did’itttt wedidi...” You slurred into her chest. She smelled like sweet cologne. Your dreams were so happy.

She smiled into your hair.

Mhm yeah. We both did it.

[elizaleclerc]

intertwined, sewn together 🌊

lando norris x reader

summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3

song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3

word count: 1.8k

You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.

Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.

With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.

"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.

You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.

Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.

As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.

That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed. 

Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.

The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you. 

“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink. 

“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more. 

Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him. 

Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.” 

“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.

You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste. 

Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.

You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?” 

“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked. 

“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes. 

“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.” 

He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”

You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.

~

Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.

“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up. 

“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando. 

“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.” 

“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George. 

“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.

He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.          

[kestisvrse]

you don’t know me

pairing ⋆ spidey!luke castellan x gn!reader au. fluff with a bit of angst. friends to lovers.

synopsis ⋆ spider-man appears at your window for help, and accidentally reveals his identity.

warnings ⋆ blood descriptions, stitching, swearing, stranger danger tbh, bit dramatic(?), kinda rushed i apologize | wc: 2.5k

a/n ⋆ i hate the ending of this so feel free to not read it😭😭

♫ - jackie and wilson by hozier

1:33am

it was hard trying to stay awake at this time, sound of the rain against your window and the soft snores of your roommates made it was easy to focus on closing your tired eyes instead of looking over all the notes scattered on your desk, it seemed nothing could stop you from drifting off to the peaceful place despite the thought of your sore neck in the morning from being slouched over your desk, but three taps against your window made your eyes shoot open.

he regretted it immediately, as he watched your head rise from the desk, but what else could he do? he gripped his side as he watched you mumble to yourself at the sight of spider-man on your fire escape, but you quickly opened the window.

“what the fuck?” you whisper at the sight, the heavy rain began to cover your window sill and floor but you didn’t even notice.

“hi, um i know this must seem very odd..” the superhero in front of you trailed off as you let him in, “shit, i’m bleeding on your carpet.”

“what- oh shit!” you gasp, noticing the giant gash he gripped on his torso, without a second thought you grabbed his hand and dragged him into your private bathroom, pushing him to sit on the toilet as you rummaged in your cupboards, as you pulled out a first-aid kit, you rummaged for supplies, “can i ask why the hell spider-man is bleeding in my bathroom right now?”

“i- i lost a lot of blood, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to my place in time.” he lied, “not to sound creepy but i saw your light on and.. and i needed help.”

“can you take the top half of your suit off?” you ask, washing your hands, as if you hadn’t even acknowledged what he had said. he nods, unzipping the back and removing his arms from the sleeves, letting the suit rest at his waist, his mask still hiding his identity, “this will hurt.” you warn, even though he had definitely experienced worse than a wound being wiped down.

but still he winced, clenching his jaw, as you realized it wasn’t just a cut, he had been stabbed.

“thank god you stumbled across a med-students dorm.” you mumble to yourself, trying to lighten the mood as you get ready to stitch his side together, as he went to laugh at your comment he was interrupted by a groan of pain emitting from his throat.

“i know it hurts, but try to be quiet. if you wake clarisse, my roommate up, she will not make this situation any better.” you say, luke holds back a laugh knowing it was definitely true, he bites down on his lower lip as you stitch him up. luckily it was a shallow cut,.

you worked in silence, occasionally broken up by strewn out swears and winces from the superhero, biting your lip in concentration. as you tied together the final stitch you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“okay, the hard part is done.” you informed him, wiping down any excess blood that stained his skin.

“thanks.” he mutters weakly, moving to adjust his posture but immediately freezing as pain shoots up his body.

“stay still.” you say, “i still have to bandage it.” pulling out medical tape and gauze out of your medical bag, he felt as your hands occasionally slipped off the white bandage and touched his stomach. the pain almost subsided as the feeling of your fingertips burned into him. wrapping the bandage around his torso and taping it down you lean back on your knees, letting out a sigh.

he focuses on you as you stand, washing blood off your hands in the sink before cleaning up your supplies, you glance at him catching him staring, as he pretends to admire your bathroom as if he hadn’t been in here before.

“um-“ he clears his throat, “sorry for bleeding on your floor.” he mentioned, guilt evident in his voice.

“s’okay, i didn't like that carpet much anyways.” you say, which was a lie. luke remembered vividly how happy you were to get what you called, ‘the best rug ever’ for your room, his brows furrow.

you lean back against the bathtub, letting out a sigh, he goes to move but you nudge him with your foot, “don’t go just yet, won’t be good to swing on new stitches.” you explained to him, as he leaned back against the back of the toilet.

his breathing was sharp and inconsistent as his stomach stung in pain, his eyes squeezed shut, “the only thing i have for pain is like advil and tylenol. i don’t know if that helps with stab wounds though.” you spoke up, he shakes his head in response.

“i’ll be fine, just- just need to catch my breath.” to which you nodded in response.

“can i get you water?” you suggest, quickly standing as a ‘please’ is heard from under the mask, him suddenly noticing the scratchy and dry feeling of his throat. you rush out the room, tiptoeing into the kitchen to grab water for the superhero, as you return and hand it to him, you spin around so he can remove his mask.

his face was red as he watched you carefully, slipping his mask above his nose to gulp down the glass. scared you’d spin around to discover it was your friend bleeding out in the bathroom.

but you didn’t, as he pulled the mask back down and placed the cup on the counter, is when you turned and returned to your spot on the floor, bringing your knees to your chest.

he begins to shuffle uncomfortably on the toilet, breathing harder as his back slouched and his body tensed. the bandages felt tight on him, as he resisted the urge to rip them off, he was quickly distracted as you kneeled in front of him, placing your hand on his exposed wrist.

tingles shot up his body at the feeling of your skin against his again, it felt so odd, knowing he had hugged and brushed past you so many times but this was different, every touch had him blushing as butterflies flew around his stomach, he didn’t know you felt the same way, but with luke, not spider-man.

“control your breathing, your pulse is out of control.” you breathe, your pointer and middle finger pressed against his wrist feeling his pulse.

he began to focus on your breathing, watching as your chest rose and fell while you seemingly seemed focused on the wall of the bathroom. he quickly matched his breathing with yours, sitting up straight as your hand pulled away from him.

“thank you, for helping me.” he stammered, suddenly self conscious of his voice, how hadn’t you recognized it?

“i mean, what else was i supposed to do? there was a superhero at my window sill.” you scoff in disbelief, “it’s fine, i mean, it’s the least i can do for you keeping me- uh new york, safe.” you clear your throat, staring at your hands that rest atop your knees. “can i ask you something?”

his throat dries, “yeah?”

“i mean- obviously don’t answer if it’s too personal or gives away your identity, but.” you tilt my head, “do you like… live a normal life during the day? or are you always spider-man?” you ask cautiously.

he pauses to think about his answer, narrowing his eyes at you, “oh yeah, i-i do have a normal life during the day.” he confesses, the hand that grasped his stomach moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“cool.” you reply, stopping yourself from question him farther.

“you aren’t asking any questions,” he stated quietly, almost in disbelief. as he spoke, he shifted his attention to your face. “i was expecting some like freaked out reactions. but you’re... you’re really chill about this.”

“you have a secret identity for a reason, i wouldn’t want to ruin that for you. you keep the city safe, and that’s all i need to know.” you shrug in response, staring at the white eyes of his mask.

“i mean it’s so crazy.” you say randomly, causing his head to tilt in confusion, “i’ve thought about it before you know, imagine one of my friends was a masked superhero.” he tenses, knowing that in fact it was true, “like my friend luke, he’s always disappearing at random moments.” his eyes widen but you don’t notice because of the mask, chuckling to yourself at the thought.

“yeah, imagine that.” he murmurs in response, suddenly very sweaty in stress.

“how’re you feeling?” you turn your attention back to him.

“still hurts a lot, but i should go now.” he explains, his hand on the counter to steady himself as he stands, “again, thank you so much.”

you walk to the window, opening it and helping him climb out onto the fire escape, “again” you repeat him, “it’s the least i could do.”

4:56pm

you yawn as you open the door revealing luke castellan, bag swung over his shoulder and hair messy from the wind, he gave you a lopsided smile, “ready to study?”

you shake your head as he enters your apartment, “i was studying all night, barely got sleep.” you respond, leading him to your room.

he just nods his head at you in response, cheeks growing hot, sure you were studying, before his alter ego stumbled through your window.

as he walked into your room, he immediately took notice of the spot of your carpet that had been rolled over, to cover the evidence of the blood stain. his stare lingered there, before quickly collecting himself to sit on your bed.

“i made these flashcards for you last night.” you break the silence, holding up pastel green cards, “ready to be tested, castellan?” you tease, plopping onto the bed and leaning against the headboard as he takes his jacket off.

“oh bless you for those.” he praised, comfortably laying down at the end of your feet.

“just admit i’m your favourite person.” you giggle, he rolls his eyes before encouraging you to begin.

thirty minutes past as you tested him, reaching the end before you would swap over, “alright” you clear your throat, “next- luke?” your gaze drifts up from the card.

“yeah?” he asked, waiting for you to continue.

“you’re bleeding.” you point at his shirt, he looks down to find his blue t-shirt slowly bleed red, dripping down his side. immediately, he reacted by pressing down as hard as he could against the wound, a small whimper escaping his lips in the process.

“what-“ you cut yourself off, to look up into his eyes, eyes widening in the process “no fucking way.”

he tore his attention away from his wound, blood seeping into your bed sheets, “i-“ in a flash you’re up from the bed, cards spilling onto the floor as you yank him up causing him to yelp. he sits down on the toilet as you rummage for the first aid kit, again.

“take off your shirt.” you demanded, and despite the surprise this brought him, he didn’t resist. he removed his shirt almost immediately, revealing the bloody coated bandages.

you stared at his chest, the fact that it was the exact same as spider-mans made you wanna scream, but you held back, removing the bandages and staying quiet to patch him up, too scared to speak.

luke stayed silent, staring at you with sad eyes, praying you would forgive him. he winced every so often at the sting of you restitching some stitches that came loose, and rewrapping his stomach with fresh gauze.

your lips pursed together as you washed your hands, refilling the same cup from last night with water and placing it beside him before walking off into your room. luke quickly tugs hair shirt back on, ignoring the blood stain and the pain that shot up his body at the sudden movement, before going to stand in front of you in your room, “i’m sorry.” he whispers.

“you could have died, and it would have been my fault.” you remarked, “can you imagine? spider-man dies in my bathroom and i take his mask off to reveal my best fucking friend.” you scoffed, tears covering your waterline.

his expression softened, as he nudged your foot with his, “but i didn’t.”

“but you could have!” you yell, shooting up to stand in front of him, “jesus luke, this is what you’ve been doing all year? this is why you disappear all the time?” he stares at his shoes as you rub your forehead.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, a sad expression covering his face, as he blinked rapidly, “i’m sorry for putting you through that. i didn’t mean to worry you.”

“you-you’re spider-man.” you gasp out, in disbelief. your hand clutches your chest as tears roll out onto your cheeks. his hand brushes your bicep as you flinch.

“yeah… yeah i am.” he sighs, guiding you to sit back down on your bed, “i wish i hadn’t come here last night but- i wouldn’t have been able to stitch that up myself.” he sighed as you sobbed into your hands.

“you could have died.” you choke out, repeating yourself before falling into his side, almost on instinct he wraps his arm around you, rubbing your back comfortingly. he knew you wouldn’t respond well if he had ever told you, but he hadn’t thought about how you would feel to him almost dying in your bathroom.

“i’m okay. i promise.” he breathed into your hair, but you just shook your head in response, unable to respond as you tried to catch your breath.

“i don’t care if i am fast asleep, if this ever happens again, you come to me luke, i stitch you up.” you begged, looking up to him teary eyed.

his gaze softens looking at you but nodded in response, “okay, i promise.” his hand hovers over you neck, “i didn’t want to put you in danger or worry you. i would have told you. i was also scared you wouldn’t… wouldn’t look at me the same” he whispered.

“you’re still luke castellan, i still will like you no matter what, you just… you scared the shit out of me.” you sputtered out, not thinking about what you were saying to the boy in front of you, his body tensed.

“like me?” he asks, brows furrowed to see if you meant as friends or.. as more. he got his answer as he watched your eyes widen slightly and you began to stutter, “you… you like me?”

“what- no i meant-“ you shake your head so hard he thought it might spin off, and so he took his chance. the hand that hovered over your neck held your face still as he connected his lips with yours.

you found yourself unable to kiss back in shock, he heats up in embarrassment as he began to pull away, which brought you to your senses as you pulled him back down to press a soft kiss against his lips.

he pulled away for air, leaning your foreheads against each other.

“i can’t believe i accused you of being a secret superhero, while infront of you last night.” you mumbled, as he just laughed in response and shook his head.

“i promise to be more safe, just for you.” he said, leaning in to peck your lips.

[badbtssmut]

no.4 .gynecologist taehyung and innocent oc breast touching, fingering, just putting in his cock to 'check' her

Admin note: Changed to doctor

-

“Hmm… I see.” Your doctor, Taehyung, hummed.

You held in your breath, heat rushing to your cheeks as his fingers pumped in and out of your vagina. His expression was one of deep concentration as he examined you.

You were on the medical chair in his office, legs spread wide apart for him as he checked you.

“I will need a deeper look before I can confirm the diagnosis. Can you pull up your shirt and remove your bra for me please? It will make it easier for me to examine you properly if your chest is exposed. It won't take long.”

You nodded and did as you were told. You unbuttoned the white blouse you wore and slipped the straps of your bra down, exposing your breasts to him. You couldn't help but notice how he seemed to be staring at them a little.

He massaged your breasts and when he was done with that he unbuckled his belt. “Chest is looking great, no problem there.” Taehyung pulled down his pants and briefs, letting them drop to his ankles. He was rock hard, his cock long and thick.

“I need to have a deeper look in your vagina, it might feel uncomfortable but try not to tense up too much. Try and relax, I promise it will be quick, I just need to get a clear view of the cervix and I'll know more then. Okay, darling? It will hurt, but only for a second. Try not to move too much while I do it, alright? And no matter what you do, try not to make any noises. You don't want to disturb the other doctors, right?” He smiled at you. “We don't want to interrupt them, they're very busy and have a lot of patients to see today. Don't worry, I'll be gentle, it'll be over before you know it, okay, darling?”

“Yes, sir.”

Taehyung nodded and positioned his cock at your entrance, rubbing it against your folds. He took his time, coating his length in your wetness, teasing you until you were dripping wet.

And then he was inside you, pushing in deeper and deeper, inch by inch.

You held your breath, trying your best not to make a sound. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you felt lightheaded. You bit your lip, trying your best not to moan or gasp. You knew you were not allowed to.

“O-oh, too big…” You gasped as you felt him stretch your tight walls.

Taehyung let out a breathy chuckle. “It will fit, I promise, your body just needs to adjust to it.”

You closed your eyes, taking in the sensation.

After a moment, he began to thrust, moving slowly at first, building up his pace. He moved his hips in a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of you, picking up his pace as you started to loosen up.

Your body jerked, involuntarily reacting to the pleasure he was giving you. You tried to control yourself but you were not succeeding, your moans slipping past your lips despite your attempts to muffle them.

It was so good, so, so good. He was filling you up and stretching you so nicely, fucking you deep and hard.

Taehyung noticed this and put a hand over your mouth, covering it and muffling your moans. He fucked you even harder, his cock pounding into you, his hips slamming into yours with each thrust.

Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair. Your eyes were closed tightly, your breathing coming out in sharp, ragged gasps.

Taehyung groaned as he continued to fuck you, his hand still covering your mouth, silencing your moans.

“A-ah!” You weren’t sure what was happening to your body. Your walls began to tighten and contract around him, squeezing him as he drove his cock in and out of you. A warm sensation was building up inside you, starting in your core and spreading throughout your body.

The warmth quickly grew and spread, your whole body beginning to shake as the pleasure intensified. Your legs tensed and shook, your toes curling.

“Everything is looking great, y/n. Get dressed and feel free to leave.” Taehyung told you as he pulled out.

You quickly fixed yourself, putting on your bra and buttoning up your blouse.

You were still feeling a little bit shaky from your orgasm, and you struggled to stand.

Taehyung smiled and patted you on the head. “Let’s have another check up next week, just to double check things.”

You left the office and walked down the corridor, trying to make your way to the exit. You didn’t question any of it, he was a doctor after all.

[vanteguccir]

Always yours | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N and Chris are secretly in love, but Chris is the one that acts shy around her; OR 4 times Chris loved Y/N from afar and 1 time he didn't.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

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

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Y/N and Nick had been inseparable since they were children, having grown up together in Boston, their bond of friendship was the strongest among all others. Nick was the type of boy who exuded energy and extroversion, while Y/N was more thoughtful and quiet, and the two of them fit together perfectly.

So, when the triplets decided to move to Los Angeles to better advance their career on YouTube, the girl went with them. Her high school years were over, and, as luck would have it, she had received her acceptance letter to the LA college she wanted to attend.

Obviously, her closeness with Nick throughout her life brought her close to Matt and Chris equally, as the three of them came as a complete package to any relationship, regardless of which trype it was.

The only difference was that with Chris, things were different. A strange and unfamiliar feeling grew more and more inside Y/N's heart whenever he was around, making her blush and stumble over her own words. It didn't take her long to realize that she was madly in love with the youngest triplet, but the fear of rejection prevented her from confessing her feelings.

What Y/N didn't know was that Chris also had deep feelings for her. However, he was also paralyzed by the fear of ruining his friendship with Y/N, or worse, destabilizing the girl's friendship with his brother if his feelings weren't reciprocated. So the two were content to flirt shyly and exchanging furtive glances and meaningful smiles that spoke volumes about their feelings.

But there was something more, something that everyone but Y/N seemed to notice. When she was around, Chris transformed completely. His posture softened, his smile became more genuine, and his eyes shone with a special tenderness reserved just for her. He became more embarrassed and cautious, as if he was afraid of messing up in front of the person he secretly loved.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

1. Shyness

The sun was beginning to peek shyly through the window curtains when Y/N woke up. She snuggled under the sheets for a moment, enjoying the feeling of comfort. With a soft yawn, the girl got up from the bed and stretched momentarily before putting on the Fresh Love hoodie that was on her gaming chair, throwing her hair up in a quick ponytail.

Y/N walked down the stairs of the floor she shared with Nick towards the kitchen, following the tempting aroma of fresh coffee and warm toast.

Inside the kitchen, Matt was talking about a movie he watched the night before, Saltburn, while Chris laughed loudly at the faces of disgust and strangeness Nick displayed at certain scenes.

"Wait, you reminded me of a TikTok I saw yesterday!" Exclaimed Chris, his eyes shining with excitement. "It was from a guy who apparently wrote a song about a girl who looks innocent but ha-"

Before he could continue, Y/N entered the room with a smile on her face.

"Good morning, boys!"

Chris's face instantly turned a bright shade of red, and he swallowed hard, abruptly stopping talking. He looked down at his plate with a sudden intensity, as if he were trying to concentrate on each bite of his food.

"Good morning, Y/N." Nick smiled, breaking the brief moment of awkward silence. Matt just nodded, chewing on the piece of toast he had in his mouth.

Y/N approached the counter behind the table, noticing the sudden discomfort in the air but choosing not to comment on it.

"What was the TikTok about, Chris?" She asked softly with her back turned to them, standing on tiptoes and opening one of the cabinets above the stove, retrieving her favorite mug.

"I... Um." He fake coughed, clearing his throat. "I think I... forgot." The last word came out in a subtle whisper.

Y/N smiled, feeling the skin of her face burn at the thought of how shy the boy became in her presence, shaking her head quickly to shake off the thoughts when Nick started talking again, bringing up another topic.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. Admiring from afar

The Space Camp Wellness studio was filled with vibrant energy as Nick, Chris, Matt, and Y/N prepared for yet another promotional photo shoot. Nick, as the founder of the lip balm brand, was busy adjusting the final details, while Y/N was preparing to be one of the models in that series of pictures that would be used to promote the new line.

Sitting on the other side of the room, Chris, Matt, and Nick exchanged hushed murmurs among themselves, discussing the details of what the next steps for Nick's brand would be. However, to Chris, the sounds seemed distant, completely muffled to his ears.

His eyes remained fixed on the girl, watching every movement she made as she changed her positions. He couldn't shake the feeling that the whole world seemed brighter when she was around, his heart beating wildly against his chest.

"Chris, you're drooling again." Matt teased, giving the boy a playful poke in the shoulder.

Chris blinked, brought back to reality by his words. He blushed slightly, embarrassed at being caught.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not drooling." He barked back, trying to hide his flushed state.

"Oh, come on, Chris. Everyone knows you're head over heels in love with Y/N." Nick laughed loudly, exchanging knowing glances with Matt.

Chris squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a suitable response to his brothers' teasing. He knew he couldn't deny his feelings for Y/N, but he also didn't want to make the situation more awkward than it already was.

"You two are ridiculous." He grumbled, looking at Y/N again.

His eyes widened when he saw her already watching them, her gaze carrying a curiosity as to why they were laughing so loud - not that it was something strange coming from the brothers.

The brunette quickly turned his neck to the side, focusing his eyes on a random place while scratching his stubble, gulping loudly.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Acts of service

The frigid air of Boston circulated Y/N as she walked alongside the triplets, enveloped by the welcoming atmosphere of their hometown. The night was particularly cold, with a biting breeze that made everyone shrink into themselves for warmth.

"Oh my God, it's so cold!" Y/N commented, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm them a little.

Chris, who was next to her on the outside of the sidewalk, immediately noticed her cheeks flushed by the wind. He frowned, feeling a tightening of concern in his chest when he saw her body shaking slightly, being covered only by a long-sleeved blouse and thin leggings.

"Here." The boy said, taking off his hockey jersey and offering it to her. "You can use this to protect yourself from the cold."

Y/N widened her eyes in surprise, stopping her steps abruptly.

"But what about you, Chris? You're going to be cold-" Chris shook his head, cutting her off.

"Don't worry about me. I can handle the cold better than you can. Besides, you need to stay warm or you will cath the flu."

Finally convinced, but still reluctant, Y/N accepted the jersey, feeling the comforting warmth that emanated from the fabric as she took it in her hands. She smiled wide at Chris, slipping it over her shoulders, his Dior parfume automatically filling her nostrils, warming her heart.

Chris watched in silence as Y/N wrapped herself in his jersey, name and number clearly visible on her back, lightly covered by the strands of her loose hair. An intense blush took over his cheeks, a feeling of heat different from the cold taking over his body.

He felt his heart speed up to a thousand miles per hour, pressing his lips into a thin line to stop the involuntary smile.

"It looks good on you. Better than on me."

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. Distraction

The kitchen of the triplets' house was full of energy as the brothers prepared to record another Wednesday video for their YouTube channel. Nick adjusted the camera and arranged the equipment while Chris and Matt arranged themselves in the two chairs behind the wooden table, facing the tripod.

Chris, especially, was beaming with enthusiasm, his words flowing with energy as he addressed the camera after Nick positioned himself behind the two, giving the go-ahead to begin recording.

"What's up, guys? Welcome back to our YouTube channel! Today, we have a-"

He was in the middle of introducing the theme when Y/N passed through the divide between the living room and kitchen, her hands holding her phone and her eyes fixed on the screen, heading towards the stairs that led to her shared floor with Nick.

Chris's gaze instinctively shifted towards her, his heart racing almost automatically as his pupils seemed to take the shape of a little heart, his eyes following her every step and his mouth opening slightly.

His brothers, noticing Chris's sudden distraction, began laughing, teasing him as he struggled to regain focus.

"Wow, Chris, I think someone's a little distracted." Matt, who was sitting next to him, joked, receiving a hard slap on the shoulder in response.

Chris blushed a red hue, embarrassed at being caught. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide his state as he tried to remember what he was about to say.

"Hm..." He cleared his throat, still a little disconcerted. "Where did I stop?"

Nick laughed louder, stumbling back and slamming his back against the stove, cursing loudly as he tried to steady his balance.

"You were talking about the challenge we're going to do today, but I think you were more interested in keeping up with Y/N ​​than recording the video." Matt scoffed, smirking to the lens.

Chris shook his head, adjusting the cap over his hair in an act of nervousness, his mind still a little clouded by the sight of Y/N.

Needless to say, he got almost every picture of the challenge wrong, his mind replaying the image of the girl he loved over and over for the rest of the day.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

5. When he finally makes a move

The night silently enveloped the house, as Chris found himself lost in his own thoughts, his body lying flat on his bed and his eyes fixed on the ceiling. He knew it was time to finally confront his feelings for Y/N and express the love he had been secretly holding onto for so long. However, he was feeling completely lost on how to do it.

With his heart beating wildly in his chest, the boy decided to seek advice from Matt. His brother always knew what to say. Chris walked quickly up the stairs, going to Matt's bedroom door, knocking gently with his closed fist against the wood before turning the handle, opening it.

"Matt?" He asked, his voice slightly shaking with anxiety as his eyes darted around the room, quickly finding the boy in his gaming chair, playing something on his computer. "Can I talk to you?"

Matt looked up, frowning in concern when he noticed the boy's distressed eyes.

"Of course, did something happen?"

Chris entered the room, closing the door behind him and walking over to the bed, sitting on the edge in front of his computer desk.

"Nothing happened, I just... need some advice." Chris began, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment at being so vulnerable. "I've finally accepted that I love Y/N, but I don't know how to tell her... I'm scared of ruining everything, Matt."

Matt smiled slightly, taking the headphones off his head and placing it on the keyboard before moving the chair so that he was facing Chris.

"Why don't you write her a letter?" Matt shrugged, crossing his arms and watching his reactions.

"A letter? Isn't that too old-fashioned?" The youngest frowned, pushing his bangs back with his right hand, expanding his vision.

"With every girl you've ever been with, you've always been direct, unrestricted, and unromantic. But with Y/N ​​it's different, right?"

"She's not just another one, Matt." Chris rolled his eyes, feeling disgusted as he remembered all the times that he tried to erase his feelings for Y/N.

"Exactly, so treat her like she isn't, be romantic and different, surprise her."

It took days for Chris to finally have the courage to open his heart in a letter. He wasn't used to revealing his feelings often, so writing them down on paper was harder than it seemed. But the day finally arrived, and surprisingly, it didn't take more than an hour for Chris to finish his words.

The brunette spent the rest of that day wandering around his room while carrying the letter hidden in the front pocket of his hoodie, looking for the ideal moment to give it to Y/N.

His courage to hand it to her face to face was almost non-existent, and that's why he used the only moment when the girl moved from her room to Nick's. With shaking hands, he placed the letter on Y/N's bed, leaving it in a place where she would certainly find it.

One last look at it, and Chris turned abruptly, running back to his own room with his face flushed with shyness and anxiety.

Meanwhile, Y/N returned to her room, unaware of the surprise that awaited her. Her heart beat with strange anticipation as she approached, immediately noticing the letter carefully left there.

Hesitantly, Y/N took it, feeling the weight of the paper in her hands. She took a deep breath before opening it, her eyes widening comically as she recognized the handwriting, her eyes running quickly through the words with a mix of surprise and excitement.

As she read Chris's passionate declaration, Y/N's heart seemed to expand in her chest, overflowing with all the best feelings.

To my Y/N,

I am completely sure that I have loved you since the moment I understood the meaning of the word love. I remember the day I noticed that I felt something different about you; we were 14 years old and you showed up at our house to spend the day with Nick, and as soon as you saw me, you smiled the most beautiful and wide smile I've ever seen, taking away all my breath.

Whenever I go to sleep I think about you and, maybe, an us, wondering if you feel the same. And whenever I wake up, I can only imagine what it would be like to have you on the other side of the bed, forever in my arms.

What would it be like to have you? This probably sounds cliché and ridiculous, but I created a whole imagination of what it would be like, and I know it would be a dream come true.

And I tried so hard to resist it, out of pure fear and cowardice of losing you and your company, but resisting you became my most difficult task.

Everything about you makes me feel more alive and lighter. The sound of your voice seems to silence all the noise in my head, and your smile erases all the bad smoke in the world around me. And suddenly there's only you.

If you gave me the chance, I would make you feel everything and much more than you already made me feel.

Say the word and I'll be your yours.

Always,

Chris.

Y/N remained static for long minutes, letting the magnitude of what she had just read sink into her heart and mind. She felt her fingertips numb and her heart racing so much that she was almost sure it would jump out of her chest and run to wherever Chris was.

And then, with renewed determination, the girl got up from her bed, running downstairs towards Chris's room, goosebumps rising through her body in anticipation.

Upon arriving at the door of the room she dreamed of being able to live in one day, Y/N raised her closed fist, knocking it against the wood with nervousness, anxiously waiting for an answer.

When Chris opened it, their eyes met in a moment of pure connection, and Y/N knew it was the right thing to do.

"Chris." She began, her voice soft but shaky. "I love you too."

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My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @thebottledwatersupplier @bellasfavbisexual @soso-scarlettolivia

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

[sunflowersteves]

you’re an addiction || m.o.

pairing || miguel o'hara x fem!afab!reader

summary || Everyone always thought Miguel was quiet and calculating, but you know him so much more differently.

author's notes || im so slutty for this man it's insane and I needed him to be soft

warnings || fluff, kinda emotionally constipated miguel, SMUT, praise kink, soft!dom, cockwarming, vaginal sex, unprotected sex [18+ only]

masterlist

“Baby,” Miguel’s eyes flickered from the screen of the computer to the wooded desk. He was trying real hard to concentrate—eyebrows furrowed and large frame standing tall.

“You need to sit still.” He said it so soft. He meant it to sound a bit more demanding, but how could he? You were sitting so good for him. 

Miguel wasn’t known for being a talker. Not really.

At the HQ, he barely uttered a word unless it was necessary. He had grown to like the quiet, empty space of silence. It seemed calming to him. It harnessed a full collection of him and his thoughts as they unraveled.

Until you. 

You were the one exception to the rule of silent Miguel. You were the light that speckled onto his stubborn, grieving heart. You were the cause and reason for every single curl of his lips as he watched you perform a mundane task.

He just couldn’t help himself around you. You dug up underneath his heart and made him want to spill every detail of his thoughts to you. He could never say no to you, either. It felt impossible to him when you bash your eyelashes prettily, and his heart palpitates against his chest. He is absolutely done for the minute you whisper his name softly in his ear.

Like, now. Miguel was supposed to be working on important briefing materials for a new mission. He was gathering evidence and needed to present it to the team in a couple of days.

You padded across the living room floors and sauntered your way into Miguel’s study. It was late. Impossibly late. You had woken up to an empty bed. Your hand had patted the mattress to find your husband, but he was nowhere to be found. You could never sleep without him, and if he was being honest, neither could he. 

“Miggy?” You called out. Your eyes flitted over Miguel, his broad frame hunching over the hologram computer. A pout had sprouted onto your lips because you figured he was nowhere near done.

“Hmm?” He says. His head didn’t even move from the work in front of him.

He could hear you make your way over to him, though. His lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile. 

Sometimes, he cherished nights like these. You would wake up in the middle of the night to find Miguel sitting in his study. You would wrap your arms around him, koala-like, and fall asleep on his lap. He would always smile as your mind dreamed of him—he knew from the small whispers of his name as sleep took over in full. 

“Can’t sleep without you.” You murmur.

He finally tears his eyes away to look at you. His heart thumped hard against his chest for what felt like the millionth time. Your pajamas hung loose onto your form as you rubbed one of your exhausted eyes.

He scooted the office chair back and tapped his thigh. “C’mere. I’ll be done soon, baby.”

You walked into his presence but didn’t sit just yet. “Promise?”

He breaks into a smile. “Promise.”

You climbed on top of his large thighs. You were straddling his waist and immediately enveloping him in a hug. Your cheeks were pressed up against his chest. If only you could see his smile now—practically beaming.

He scoots the chair back. He breathes in deeply to appreciate the feeling of your warmth radiating off onto him. You close your eyes, and he continues to do his work. His fingers pressed up against the holographic keyboard. He moved other components of the mission to the other—his eyes darting in concentration. 

You yawned against his chest and subconsciously pressed your cheek further into him. You thought about him.

You thought about the way his smile lights up when you walk into the room. You thought about the day he made pozole when you were sick. You thought about the way his body completely wrapped around yours with his broad frame. You thought about the way he held you in bed during the pretty, bright sunrise. You thought about how his hands groped the soft flesh of your thighs. You thought about the times he has left you dizzy from the kisses and bites to your neck. You thought about the way his cock left a burn from—

Now you got squirmy. So much so that, that was how he gave the initial scolding to keep you still. Even though it was soft, you knew when you needed to quit. Although, you couldn’t help it. Not when your mind eventually wandered off to the way his cock pounded into you this morning.

“I’m sorry, Miggy,” you lightly pouted. Your eyes were closed, and you were concentrating on Miguel’s heartbeat. You needed a distraction from thinking about how his cock always filled you up so fucking well.

His eyebrow lifted as he saw the split-second of mischief in your eyes before you closed them, but he still gave you the benefit of the doubt. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. Don’t be sorry.” Your fingers tightened around his shoulder. “I just need you to stay still, okay?”

You nodded, but you could feel the wetness leak onto your panties. With how thin your shorts were, your slick would eventually leak onto his thigh. You squeezed your eyes even tighter, but your attempt in keeping calm had already failed. 

You bit your lip as you watched the way his arms flexed from having to move around the hologram. Your pussy was fucking throbbing at this point, thinking about MiguelMiguelMiguel—

Then, he abruptly stopped. Your head lifted up from his chest in confusion, but he never said a word. He just raised you with one hand, and the other pulled down his sweatpants.

His cock sprang free, and he could’ve sworn he saw your eyes become slightly larger. The way his cock practically pulsated in his grip, always left you speechless. There was pre-cum that spilled against his tip, and you could see the vein that ran across the side of his shaft. It made your mouth water to no fucking end.

He gently sat you back down onto his lap. Your hands immediately went to caress the girth of his cock, but he snatches your hands in his.

He clicks his tongue. “You wanna be a good girl?”

Your mouth falls open, but you nod. “I do.” He looks unconvinced. So, you whine. “Please.”

There it is. He can’t help but smirk. “Since you can’t sit still, I’ll give you my cock.” His eyes locked with yours, and you looked almost excited. “But no moving, okay? Gotta be good for me.”

You’d take him in any which way and in any form. You wanted to smile in delight, but you knew the raise of his eyebrow would be an indication not to challenge him. Instead, you enthusiastically nod.

Satisfied, Miguel maneuvers your pajama shorts and underwear to the side with one of his talons—the fabric ripping slightly from the pure sharpness. 

His mouth drops open at the way your pussy glistens for him. “Oh, poor baby.” His finger teases your opening, causing you to gasp. “You just needed my cock, didn’t you?”

You wanted to cry out. You nodded, the desperation to feel him inside of you was becoming unbearable. “I need you, Miguel.” Your heart beat so loud across your chest that it was even hard to hear yourself. Everything felt hot and heavy—the air feeling thick.

Ever so slowly, he starts to let you sink down into his cock. You both moan from the euphoric sensations of being one with one another. “Fuckin’ tight.” He whispers, closing his eyes. "Eres mia."

He can feel the way you restrict around him, and he has to stop himself from thrusting up into you. All he needs is five more minutes, and then he would be completely done with work. He could be all yours for the rest of the night.

You whimper, “f-fill me up so good, miggy.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Yeah? Am fuckin’ made for you, querida.”

He lets out a groan as your walls clenched around him from the statement alone. You could feel your juices start to leak down onto his balls. Soon, it would be his thighs.

He stares at the hologram once more, attempting to continue his work. Your head leans back against his chest once again. This time, though, you were filled to the brim. His cock stretched you just enough to let you see stars.

He was big. The fat tip of his cock was hitting your cervix as you barely bottomed out. The thought was starting to make you accidentally roll your hips.

Miguel bites his tongue as a moan threatens to escape. He tries to keep his composure because he knows that if he gives you one look, he's done for. He’ll give you exactly what you want because Miguel O’Hara can’t say no to you. You have him wrapped around your pretty finger.

“Bein’ so good, baby. Just a little longer.” If you weren’t already cock drunk and fantasying about how his cock makes you feel, you would have noticed the slur in his words.

His voice was deep and relaxed—the gruffness scratched against his throat. His words seemed fluid and almost combined into one. All he could think about was how wet you were—some of the slick was starting to drop onto your conjoined thighs. He could feel just how desperate you were, and your soft whimpers weren't helping. It was starting to make his head feel fuzzy. 

You nodded against him, but you weren’t listening. “Yes, Miguel.” It was just a habit for you. You wanted to be his good girl, and you are. You really, really are.

Your body jolts as his hand smacks the desk in front of him. It turns off the hologram, and you’re left with your mouth opening in shock.

“Fuck this.” He yells impatiently. “I can fucking feel how wet you are, querida. It’s driving me—driving me fucking insane.” His eyes lowered to see the expression on your face. It almost made him whimper.

Your gaze was fucked. You looked completely fucked out from the haze in your eyes and the way your lip wobbled. You looked like an absolute mess, and it was tearing Miguel up.

He could feel the wanton need to bury his cock even further inside of you—which wasn’t even possible at this point. An aching need to take care of you took over his thoughts and pushed against his chest. He needed you.

“Miguel.” You whimpered. It was as if that was the only thing your brain could come up with—him. You needed him just as much as he needed you.

He coos, “I’ve got you, baby. Fuck work. Those pieces of shit can wait.” His hands move to your waist and squeeze. “You’ve been such a good girl, baby. S-so fucking good for me.”

You yell out his name when he thrusts up into you. You could feel the way his cock pierced through every single part of you. “Miguel—f-fuck—”

His hands tightened around your waist before helping you grind against him. You could barely move, not with your mind reeling from the pleasures that send tingles down your spine.

"So fuckin' good for me, baby. You did so well." Miguel grits his teeth at the way his cock twitched inside of you, in and out of your wet pussy. "Jus' can't get enough of this pussy." 

You whined and whimpered—just as he continued to have you grind and thrust against him. “Please, Miguel. Please—” You were already so close. The tortuous waiting game that he played as his cock stretched you thin was starting to take its toll.

He could feel the way your walls spasmed against him—the way you tightened even more. He moaned against you. “Y-you can let go, pretty girl. You’ve been so fuckin good—”

One of his hands leaves your waist. His thumb pressed up against your swollen clit and swirled around your sticky wetness—the substance had pooled around the two of you so much that it made such a mess.

“F-fuck. Let go, baby. Give it to me. Fuckin’ give it to me.”

You scream out his name as his cock pounds into you again and again. Your cunt impossibly tightens around him, and your orgasm comes quickly as gush all over his aching cock.

The sweet sounds you made had sent him over the edge. He lets everything go right behind you and spills his thick, hot cum deep inside. “F-fuck, querida—fuck.” He wants to say your name over and over until it’s the only thing that can form on his tongue.

You collapsed against him with deep, tired breaths. Your eyelids wanted to slip closed and let the soft pillows of sleep take you whole.

Miguel smiles down at you and presses a kiss to your hair line then another to your cheek.

“Looks like it’s time for bed, hmm?” His finger swipes gently against your cheek. “Let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

You sighed against him, completely and utterly content. A wide smile was on your face. “Okay, Miggy.”

[ahqkas]

♯ BAD MOON RISING ; mattheo riddle

❛ don't go around tonight

well it's bound to take your life

there's a bad moon on the rise ❜

PAIRING! death eater!mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! feelings of affection were just a weakness so he needed to get rid of the source

WARNINGS AND TAGS! lot of angst + a tiny bit of fluff, cruel mattheo (he’s been forced into it), kissing

WORD COUNT! 2.2k

NOTES! my complex boy

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

DAYS BEFORE THAT FATEFUL CONFRONTATION, THE CHANGE IN MATTHEO'S BEHAVIOR HAD BEEN GRADUAL BUT UNMISTAKABLE. It began subtly, with him slowly withdrawing from your usual interactions. During dinner, where you once shared whispered conversations and stolen glances, his eyes now avoided yours entirely, his gaze fixed resolutely on his plate or somewhere in the distance, empty of their usual glint of light. The words that once flowed so effortlessly between you had dried up, replaced by a heavy, uncomfortable silence. His hand no longer found its home on your thigh, rather keeping to himself as he picked at his nails.

During your study sessions, which had been a blend of focused work and playful banter, Mattheo became silent, his attention firmly on his books and notes, leaving you feeling like a ghost in his presence. You noticed the way he would position himself slightly further away, creating an invisible barrier that only added to your growing sense of unease. His laughter, once a source of warmth and home, was now absent, replaced by a cold, detached demeanor.

You tried to reach out to him, to understand what was happening, but each attempt was met with curt responses or outright avoidance. The physical closeness you once shared — the brief touches, the comforting hugs, the gentle kisses — all seemed to vanish, leaving an aching void in their wake. Mattheo's once reassuring presence became a source of confusion and hurt, and you found yourself grappling with a growing sense of isolation and fear.

The nights were the hardest. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, your mind racing with questions and doubts. You replayed your last conversations, searching for any sign of what had gone wrong, but found none. The memory of his warm embrace and soft words haunted you in a way that it hurt every day to even look at him. Each day, the gap between the two of you seemed to widen, and the weight of unspoken words and unresolved tension grew heavier on your heart.

The library was a space full of quiet whispers and rustling pages, where students lost themselves in their studies. You and Mattheo had claimed a secluded corner as your own, a small table tucked between towering shelves of literature. It had become your usual spot, a place where you could be together hidden from all the curious gazes.

You were hunched over your textbooks, diligently taking notes, but you couldn't help the frequent glances you stole at your boyfriend. He sat across from you, his brows furrowed in concentration, but there was a tension in his posture that you couldn't ignore. The quill he held between his fingers moved absently over the parchment, but his eyes were distant, lost in thoughts that seemed far away from your current surroundings.

"Mattheo," you called his name softly, trying to draw his attention. When he didn't respond, you reached out and gently touched the back of his hand. "Is everything okay?"

His head snapped up, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something in those brown irises — pain, confusion, fear? — before it was replaced by a hard, cold look. "I'm fine," he said curtly, pulling his hand away from yours as if your touch burned him.

You frowned, your concern growing. "You don't seem fine. You've been distracted all week. What's going on?"

The Slytherin boy slammed his quill down, the sound echoing harshly in the quiet of the library. "I said I'm fine, [Name]. Just drop it."

Your heart skipped a beat at the harshness of his tone. He's never acted with you in this way. "Mattheo, please," you pleaded, and the tone of your voice trembled slightly. "I'm just worried about you. You can talk to me."

He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing the curious eyes of nearby students. "I don't need to talk about anything," he snapped. "Especially not with you."

The words hit you like a physical blow, and you recoiled, clear hurt flashing across your face. "Why are you being like this?"

His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth you had always found there. "Maybe I just don't want to be around you anymore," he said, his voice cutting through you like a knife. "Ever think of that?"

The library seemed to close in around you, the weight of his words suffocating. You struggled to breathe, your vision blurring with tears you refused to let fall. "If that's how you feel," you mumbled, voice breaking, "then maybe you should just go."

For a moment, his expression softened, a glimmer of regret flickering in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold expression. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you sitting alone at your usual table, the weight of your shattered relationship pressing down on your chest heavily.

The corridors of Hogwarts were dimly lit, casting long shadows over the stone walls as you made your way through them with determined strides. You had tried to give Mattheo space, tried to believe that he just needed time to sort out whatever was troubling him. But the distance he had put between the two of you, the coldness in his eyes — it all felt wrong, like a mask hiding something far more sinister. You couldn't let it go. You had to know the truth.

You found him in an abandoned classroom, the one you used to sneak into for stolen moments of privacy when everything felt like it was too much to handle. The room was filled with the faint scent of old parchment and dust, the opposite to the warmth and life it once held. Mattheo was standing by the window, staring out at the darkening sky, his silhouette outlined by the fading light.

"Mattheo," you called out to him, voice echoing slightly in the empty space. He turned, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of the sweet boy you loved in his eyes. But then his expression hardened, and he set his jaw defiantly. The image was gone.

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice cold and detached.

Yet you stepped closer, refusing to be intimidated by his words and behavior. "I need to know what's going on. Why are you pushing me away? Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not lying," he said sharply. "I've told you already. I don't love you, [Name]. This —" he gestured between the two of you "— was just a distraction."

Shaking your head, you felt tears welling up in your eyes for the second time this day. "No. I don't believe you. I can see it in your eyes, Mattheo. I know you. You're hiding something."

"You don't know anything," he spat. "You think you do, but you don't. I never loved you. I used you to distract myself, to feel something other than this emptiness inside."

You recoiled as if he had struck you, the words slicing through your heart like millions of daggers. But you weren't ready to give up. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't care. Tell me you never loved me and I'll walk away."

For a moment, he faltered. His eyes softened, the mask slipping to reveal the distress underneath. He glanced away from you, the complete opposite of what you wanted him to do, unable to meet the irises he so fell in love with.

"I don't care about you, princess. I never did."

You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. You wanted to scream, to cry, to shake him until he admitted the truth. But you knew it wouldn't matter. Whatever he was hiding, he was determined to keep it from you.

"Fine," you said after a while, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "If that's what you want, then I'll go. But know this, Mattheo Riddle: whatever you're hiding, whatever you're afraid of, it's going to come out eventually. And when it does, I hope you realize what you've lost."

You turned on your heels and walked away, the silence of the abandoned classroom pressing down on you like a heavy weight. Stepping into the corridor, you let the tears fall, each one a testament to the love for him you couldn't lost and the boy who had pushed you away.

Inside the classroom, Mattheo watched you go, his heart aching with the weight of his lies. He leaned against the window, closing his eyes as he fought back his own tears. He knew he had to keep up with the act, to keep you safe from the darkness that was coming. But the pain of pushing you away was almost too much to bear. All he could do was pick up the pieces of his own broken heart and try to make sense of the chaos he had left behind.

A few days later, chaos erupted within the stone walls of Hogwarts. The once peaceful corridors were filled with yells and screams as Death Eaters stormed the castle with sadistic laughter of their own. The sight of the Dark Mark glowing ominously in the sky cast an eerie green hue through the windows. Your heart raced as you sprinted through the halls, desperately seeking safety.

Students and professors alike were caught in the pandemonium, their faces masks of fear and confusion. Spells ricocheted off the stone walls, leaving scorch marks and rubble in their wake. The air was thick with the acrid scent of burning wood and the metallic tang of magic gone awry.

As you rounded a corner, you skidded to a halt, your breath hitching in your throat. Ahead of you, a group of masked Death Eaters loomed menacingly, their wands raised and ready to strike. Panic surged through your system, but you forced yourself to think clearly. You had to find a way out, a safe place to hide until the madness subsided.

Ducking into a side passage, you pressed yourself against the cold stone wall, your mind racing. You could hear the distant sounds of battle — the clash of spells, the cries of pain and fear. The Dark Mark's glow seemed to pulse in time with your heartbeat.

Just as you began to move, a strong grip clamped around your wrist, pulling you back into the shadows of the passage. Your heart leapt into your throat, a scream forming on your lips, but it was cut short as you recognized the hand that held you. Mattheo's dark eyes met yours, filled with an urgency you had never seen before.

"Mattheo?" you whispered, confusion and hope mingling in your voice.

"Not now," he muttered, his grip never faltering as he tugged you along. The two of you darted through the twisting corridors, the noise of the ongoing battle echoing behind you. His pace was relentless, and you struggled to keep up, your mind racing with questions.

You rounded another corner, then another, moving further and further away from the chaos. Finally, he pushed open the door to an empty classroom and pulled you inside. He slammed the door shut and cast several protective spells on it, the tip of his wand glowing brightly in the dim room as you watched with confusion on your face.

Only then did he release your wrist, but the intensity in his eyes remained. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

You nodded, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. "What are you doing, Mattheo? Why are you helping me?"

He looked away and you could see the muscles in his jaw tightening. "I had to make sure you were safe."

"But you lied to me," you said, voice trembling. "You said you didn't love me, that I was just a distraction."

He flinched at your words, unable to meet your gaze as his fingers found yours. "I had to. If they knew how much you meant to me, they would have used you against me. Against us." He leaned closer to you, his eyes closing briefly before opening again to meet with yours, a frown pulling at his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I thought pushing you away would keep you safe."

Your heart twisted with a mixture of pain and understanding as you looked into Mattheo's tormented eyes. You could feel the weight of his guilt, the burden of the lies he had carried for your sake. Without a word, you closed the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a desperate, fervent kiss.

The embrace was fueled by raw emotion, a collision of love and anguish that threatened to consume you both. Mattheo's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you close as if trying to protect you from the storm raging outside and you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you poured all of your longing and forgiveness into the kiss.

For a fleeting moment, the chaos around you faded into nothing. There was only the two of you, lost in the moment. But as the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the room, reality came crashing back with brutal force.

Reluctantly, you broke apart, your breaths mingling in the air as you stared at each other, hearts pounding in sync. There were no words to express the depth of your emotions, no promises that could erase the scars of the past. But in that moment, as you stood on the steps of uncertainty, you knew one thing for certain: you would face whatever came next together, not caring about anything other than the boy in your arms.

[redamancyys]

All Around Me - Kaz Brekker

WARNING(S) ◆ smut, piv sex, oral (fem recieving), cursing, unedited.

WORDS ◆ 3.7k

REQUEST(S) ◆ based off of this request, though i did stray a little. basically kaz and the reader have sex for the first time!

AUTHOR'S NOTE ◆ sooooo this ended up being a lot steamy-er than i intended, but i hope that you enjoy it, because i definitely liked writing this one!

To say that the desire was eating you both up from the inside was an understatement. 

Kaz had never wanted a person the way that he wanted you. It was a raw, carnal desire that came from deep within him. He had never been a person who ached for touch until he met you, he wished that he was able to be the man that could grab you by your hips without spiraling into a panic, or could kiss you for as long as you wanted without having to take a break because his internal thoughts were becoming too much to handle. 

You would always explain to him that it wasn’t his fault. 

Hushed whispers, your hands placed ever so carefully on his clothed body, trying to keep him grounded whenever the aversion got too bad. You had seen him at his worst, where he had to put his head in between his knees in order to stop the flashbacks from coming back to him. Though sometimes no matter how hard you tried, Kaz would morph back into that little boy again, feeling his brother's dead motionless flesh against his own as he floated back ashore. He would feel alone, no matter how much you tried to explain that you were here, he didn’t have to worry, he wasn’t there, he was safe.

And what was even worse, he felt like he was somehow disappointing you. He was with you, but you couldn’t even touch his bare skin without him spiraling into a mess. No matter how many times you explained that you were there for him, that you were always going to make sure that he was okay, there was still a piece of him that wished he was different. But Kaz’s wishes never came true, it would never magically go away. He had to face this head on if he was ever going to be able to properly love you, and for you, he was willing to try anything. 

That had been a few months ago, and since then the two of you had worked very hard to overcome his aversion. You went slow, placing bare hands against each other, small kisses, anything that you could think of that would be enough to help but also just enough to not make Kaz feel uncomfortable. It had gotten to the point where you two were able to cuddle with one another, his hands could go up and down your spine and paint small drawings on the skin of your arm and legs. And you could do the same towards him. After a while, you both were able to take your tops off, explore those parts of your bodies, and every time you went farther, the desire began to creep its way into both of your chests. Both of you were aware what the next step was, you both weren’t dumb, but neither of you had the inclination to talk about it. It was like the two of you were dancing around the conversation, doing everything that you could to not bring it up. 

Wylan and Jesper were always talking about it. Well, that was a lie, Jesper was usually the one that would talk about it with you. He always talked about the pining, the excitement of getting to explore your lover's body . . . it was something that you wanted but had never experienced before and before you knew it, you were sitting on your shared bed with Kaz, trying to concentrate on a book while he did his paperwork at his desk. You took a moment to stare at him, watching as his hands pressed against the paper, quill etching sounds into the silence between the both of you. You took your bottom lip into your teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. You could do this. 

“Kaz, I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

You could’ve gone about it a different way, because the moment Kaz stopped what he was doing and turned to face you, there was a hint of worry in his expression. Most of the time when a person told another that they had to talk to them about something, it was bad news, and you were quick to assure him that it was nothing of the sort. “Nothing bad, I promise. I just wanted to bring an idea up to you.” His face immediately softened, one that you knew he didn’t share with many. You took a moment to study his expressive eyes, your own going from them to his lips, the ones that you wished were kissing the delicate skin on your body. Giving him a tiny smile, you said, “I wanted to see what you . . . thought about having sex with me? We’ve been getting to that point for a while now and I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to ask if you wanted to go all the way?” 

This was definitely something that he wasn’t expecting to come out of his mouth, especially because of the unspoken barrier between the both of you when it came to talking about these types of things. Of course he wanted to, saints, if he could he would take you right then and there but you and him knew that it would take a lot more mental preparation on his end for this to happen. And perhaps for a moment you thought that you had struck a nerve with him, that he would dismiss the idea and you would leave to compose yourself, but that was far from the truth. Instead he set down the quill and turned to face you completely, his gloved hands playing with one another as an attempt to ground. You didn’t move, eyes attentively staring, waiting for him to say something. Kaz eventually opened his mouth to say, “Of course I want to have sex with you.” He said it as though you were dumb thinking that he wasn’t, but you knew that this was his way of trying to guard himself from the actual thoughts that came into his head. “I think I just need a little time to prepare first-” “Yes! I know, I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable first,” You cut him off, not wanting him to think that you were going to pressure him. 

Soon enough you two were discussing the logistics, almost as if you were scheduling a business meeting of a sort. It made you chuckle at first, but as the days went by, closer to the date that the two of you planned to finally go the final step, your nerves began to jumble up. 

~

You sat down at the edge of his bed, very reminiscent of a few days ago when you popped the question, but instead of Kaz sitting at his desk, he was sitting beside you. His breathing was slightly rigid, he was nervous which you completely understood. In order to comfort him, you placed your hand on his gloved one, looking at him with a look of kindness in an attempt to show him that you were nervous too. 

“I love you,” You said to him. 

“I love you too, Y/N.” 

One finger at a time, you began to pull his gloves off of his hand, and then the other one, setting the pair onto the bedside table. You held one of his hands with yours while the other one made its way to the back of his neck, pressing soft kisses to his lips. Kaz responded by putting his hand on your waist, eagerly kissing you back. He pulled you closer to him, until you got the idea of straddling his waist, legs on either side of him as you sat on his lap. This kissing went on for a while, semi for comfort but also for pleasure, as you knew that you would never get tired of kissing Kaz Brekker. His lips tasted like honeyed tea and you relished in the notion that you would be the only one who ever got to taste such a sweet thing. 

You were still sitting on his thighs and you needed him more than ever now. That familiar feeling that bubbled up inside of you whenever you two got this far began to resurface, causing the kissing to become even more fast paced, filled with want and need. Though the most enjoyable part was that the two of you were having fun, taking moments to stop and admire one another. For a moment a sly smile came across his lips and you wiped it away with a kiss, going back to the fast pace that had been set before. Your hands came and tentatively went under his shirt, feeling the taut skin of his chest with calm and courteous fingers, not wanting to upset him, though clearly beginning to fog up the idea of being gentle. The thought of him above you with a body like that? It made you falter in your movements. He was beautiful, and you were sure that you would never allow him to forget it. 

Using the break in your concentration to his advantage, Kaz began mouthing along your skin, knowing that your neck was sensitive in a multitude of places and skimming your skin with his teeth ever so gently, hands pulling up your shirt above your head. His eyes scanned your body, raising an eyebrow. “No bra?” He asked, making you shy away and look anywhere but at his face. You didn’t reply, but he seemed to not like that. His hand came and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. You gave a small smile, “I wanted to be comfy.” He hummed, somewhat disappointed in your answer but not disappointed at how compliant you seemed to be with him. Kaz went back to kissing your neck, teeth grazing along your soft skin, making you jump whenever he bit down on a particular spot. 

You were beginning to grow impatient. Perhaps it was with the way that he was worshiping you, wanting to kiss every single inch of you and make you keel into his touch over and over again. Or maybe it was because no one had ever made you feel this way before. You hadn’t been with others before, never trying to get this far with the men of Ketterdam for fear of ruin or awkwardness in the morning. You had only longed for Kaz before. 

His hands found your breasts, squeezing them and kneading them together, fingers coming to pinch your nipples. Your back arched into him and you almost fell over on top of him, using your hands on his muscles to stop you. You reached and decided you wanted to please him, to show him how much you wanted him. You trailed your hands under his shirt and came to the band of his pants, pushing your fingers past it and making your way down. Before you could hit his obvious hard on, one of his own hands came and grasped your wrists, pulling your hand away. You looked up, thinking that you did something wrong. Tilting your head, you gave him a silent what? Maybe you had made him uncomfortable, and he was trying to come up with a way to tell you off. 

Though that didn’t seem to be the case when Kaz’s lips offered a smirk. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” Kaz explained. In one movement he put his hands to your back and flipped you two over, him now on top of you. Your head hit the mattress with a small humph and wondered what he had in store for you. 

You worked with him to shimmy your pants and panties off, throwing them to some side of the room. His hands splayed against your thighs and you watched with an open mouth to see what he was going to do. He gave you a look, a familiar one that reminded you that you were actually here with him, no one else, the two of you were doing this amazing thing together. Your heart swelled with adoration as you thought that this was the man that you loved, the one that you trusted more than anyone else in the entire world. You were also well aware of the slick that was beginning to coat your thighs, body betraying you and showing him how much you wanted him, how you ached for him. Kaz seemed to like it though, bringing his flesh hand to your slit and scooping some of it up. When he brought his hand back up, you could see the way that it glistened on his skin, popping a finger into his mouth and humming sinfully at the taste. He did it again and again, humming every single time your arousal hit his tongue. You looked down with heated cheeks, feeling a little embarrassed that you were getting so worked up over something so small. “You taste . . .” He trailed off, bringing his tongue to your folds and swiping up from your hole to your clit. “Amazing.” 

“It’s all for you,” You said, wiggling your hips and urging him to pleasure you again. Kaz smirked, feeling a sense of pride wash over him at your words. He brought a finger to you and pushed it in, watching your mouth open into a wide ‘O’ at the feeling. He curled it up, making your muscles tighten around him. Kaz built a steady pace and he came back up to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek sweetly as if he couldn’t hear the lewd sounds that were being created when he added a second finger in. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this,” He said, towering over you. His thumb rubbed against your clit while his fingers fucked into you. “To see you under me like this.” The both of you seemed to have this desire for each other for the longest time. 

You moaned out at his words, thighs clenching around his hand to keep him there. You couldn’t respond, too busy thinking about the steady fire that was building in you. You reached to climb higher, hoping he would grant you some kind of release. He didn’t give it to you though. Instead, whenever you were getting to that tipping point, he would stop all of his movements altogether until you stopped shaking, then repeat the process over and over again. It was making you go crazy, how he had the power to push you towards release but he just wouldn’t do it.

You opened your mouth to speak but you couldn’t. As if to test you further, he pushed a third finger into you, making you moan out his name loud and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. His thumb kept rubbing languid circles on your clit. You thought if you stayed quiet you could sneak an orgasm, cut him off guard. But as if he heard your thoughts, his movements stalled and he put his other hand firmly on your hips so you couldn’t even move against his statue-like hand. His dark eyes bore into your own and you squeezed around his fingers. “You make me feel so good, Kaz.” The praise fell from your lips with ease, lava pooling in your stomach as if threatening to burst at any moment. If only he would just rub a little bit more . . .

He pulled his hand away from you. Kaz didn’t even respond to your statement and you wondered if you said something wrong, if he had enough. And he had enough all right, but not enough of you. He wanted to see you cum, just around his cock and not his fingers. But you couldn’t hear what he was thinking, which made you whimper when he pulled himself away fully, standing at the edge of the bed. You opened your legs up to him, the farthest that you could go without hurting yourself and hoping that it would make him come back to you quickly. Your clit was aching from several denied orgasms, almost thinking about pulling your hand down to finish yourself off, though deciding against it when knowing Kaz would never allow something like that. He liked seeing you writhing like this. 

Kaz’s hands shed all his clothing. He wasn’t exactly putting on a show for you but you marveled anyways, watching the way that his muscles flexed when his shirt came off and how you wanted to lick all around his abdominal region and make your way all down to his cock, which was pressed against his stomach and slightly glistening with precum. It was big and felt your insides clench just thinking about it sliding into you. Once he was satisfied with his clothing off, he came back down to the bed and kneeled between your spread legs. 

“Kaz,” You whispered. “Please.” 

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and it took all of your strength to not roll your eyes. “What do you want me to do to you?” Of course he wanted to hear you say it, to announce what he was inevitably going to do. You couldn’t ignore the way you loved how controlling he was with you, how he ordered you to do some things. And as much as you hated that he didn’t let you cum, you also loved how he would make you cum when he wanted you to, not you. He took his cock into his hands and rubbed the tip against your glistening folds, teasing you in the most sinful way possible.

“Please . . . Fuck me Kaz. Make me cum, I can’t take it anymore.” You just wanted him inside of you so badly, you were going to scream if this went on for any longer. He was right there, denying you both the pleasure. With a nod of his head, he pushed into you in one fluid motion. The feeling of him bottoming out inside of you made you grip onto his bicep, pulling him close so his warm chest was against your own again. He wasted no time moving, the sound of it deliciously sweet in your ears. Kaz took your legs and pushed them upwards, your feet hanging off of his shoulders and pressing your thighs further up until they were almost hitting the mattress. The change in position had you crying out, feeling him hit deeper inside of you. 

You could feel every single scrape of his cock against your walls, increasing that fire in your stomach until you were sure you were about to cum. He kept at it with such loyalty and vigor, his motivation to make you feel the best you ever had fuelling him to a tenfold. He was such a devoted man to begin with, so you should’ve known that he would handle things the same way in bed. 

You squeezed around him. “Please,” You whimpered. 

“Go ahead.” Those two words were all you needed, allowing yourself to scream out as your orgasm ripped through you, built up again and again and now it was finally here and it was amazing. It rippled through you like shockwaves, and made you go limp under him, legs completely boneless. Kaz didn’t let up as he rode through your orgasm, keeping the same pace with you. He was unforgiving, not giving you time to adjust and instantly making you feel the feeling of overstimulation. You were so sensitive to his cock ramming in and out of you that you could feel a second orgasm already building up. The tip of him hit a particularly nice spot in you and you yelled, curling your toes and your hands came to tangle and grip in his hair. You almost stopped for a moment thinking that you were hurting him, but when you looked at his face, you saw only fucked out bliss, white incisors showing in a ravenous grin. His eyes opened and they were almost fully dark, making you shiver. 

“You feel so good,” He mumbled, as though he was talking to himself. He was completely thrown into the pleasure that you were giving him, hot and warm and just perfect , like you were made for his cock to be rammed into over and over again. “Made for me, all for me.” He used your past words, them never losing their meaning no matter how many times he muttered under his breath. 

Time seemed to slow and grow faster at the same time, the whole room disappearing as both of you focused on only each other. You weren’t sure how many times he had made you cum at this point, you took whatever he gave you and took it well. When you got enough strength to crane your neck down, you watched as your hole enveloped his cock, it coming back out slicked with the remnants of your past orgasms. Kaz saw where your eyesight was and a sense of pride washed over him again. “Do you like watching that? Seeing how well you take me?” He asked, egging you on. His hand went to grab your own and placed it on your lower abdomen, and you could feel the skin slightly raising up every time he went into you. You could see it too, sliding in and out. Though, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself, his movements were beginning to falter. He was becoming more sloppy with his hips and you knew he was about to cum. So, to give him what he had worked for, you wiggled your hips up, matching his hips. Your oversensitive clit rubbed against the base of his cock and you were clenching around him, and as if on cue, you were cumming again, feeling weak under him. Kaz wrapped his arms around you and pulled you up, his cock splitting you open until he was spilling inside of you. 

The moans that left his mouth were probably the hottest things you had ever felt in your life. You could feel his cum dripping down his cock, coating your thighs and dripping onto the soiled sheets. He put you down on the bed and followed you, eyes watching your own and kissing your sweaty forehead. He finally stopped moving and stilled inside, not wanting to leave you. He didn’t want to leave this moment and neither did you. 

[animasola86]

Kinktober: A scholar and a pervert

Notes: @kinktober2023 is doing things with my mind! I will never be able to write innocent fluff ever again I fear! >_> But it's still fun to get it all out for once, all those dirty thoughts, holy moly, I should be ashamed but I am so not, absolutely not.

Here, have another piece full of various kinks that I threw together for my (and your) reading pleasure! (I was also heavily inspired by my own (NSFW) headcanons!)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: NSFW! MDNI! Overstimulation, (magical) sex toys, fingering/fisting, breathplay, praising and bondage if you squint. Oh and I might or might not have slipped in (pun intended) a little dp in one hole at the end, whoopsie. (It really is a wild bingo of kinks at this point.)

Word count: 10.3k

Synopsis: Bookworm!Sebastian strikes again and wants to do some experiments on you. Of course you're up for it, even though you have no idea what he has planned.

Last warning: The kinks are strong in this one. Read at your own risk!

-- can be read on AO3 too --

A scholar and a pervert

You're a mess. A whimpering, sweating, shuddering, crying mess. Your hair sticks to your forehead, your lips are swollen and parted, trembling badly, tears wet your flushed cheeks and your eyelids are heavy as you watch the boy kneeling between your spread legs.

He has tied your wrists and ankles to the posts of his bed and all you can do is thrash your head around and buck your hips against the things he is doing to you. Your limbs are twitching uncontrollably, your skin covered in sweat and saliva and so many bruises and bite marks you've long forgotten to count them.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimper, your voice strained and hoarse, your throat hurting from his previous experiments.

He looks up then, his eyes dark, his face a mask of concentration. You shiver deeply when your gazes meet and bite your raw lips once more. “Please what?” he asks gravelly, his low voice almost having the same effect on you as the toy currently lodged between your quivering folds.

As if on cue he grabs it tightly and pushes it deeper. You moan and squirm against your confines, you don't even know what he has shoved into you now. There's been so many different things and most of them you can't even describe.

And it had started so innocently. With his big brown eyes he had asked you if you were up for some experiments. He'd read something and wanted to try it out. Obviously you couldn't say no to him, you never can, not when he's looking at you with those puppy-dog eyes and asks you with that soft, deep voice.

You agreed and now you are tied to his bed, covered in his love bites and driven to orgasm after orgasm as he keeps testing out more and more things on you.

He had started with the usual, the familiar affections, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, then your cheek and jaw and neck, where he began to leave mark after mark, sucking and biting and licking your skin until it was raw and throbbing.

With a wave of his wand your clothes were gone and amidst your surprise, you found yourself on your back, pushed into the mattress, naked and exposed, your arms sprawled and your legs splayed widely – and the moment you wondered what he was doing, he had cast another spell and thick ropes had wound themselves around your wrists and ankles, holding you in place.

Your struggles were quickly silenced by his mouth and for a moment you forgot about the vulnerability of the situation. But then he settled between your legs.

He'd pleasured you so many times before, mostly with his mouth and fingers, that you had grown quite accustomed to his routine – not much he could change up there, now could he? It would still drive you mad with pleasure every time, but it had become a little redundant, at least that must have been his thought process – you would have been fine with just having him suck on your clit and fingering you rapidly until you came so hard he had to wipe your release off of his face.

But he wanted more. Always more. And even though this was about your pleasure, you knew this was mostly for him. He loved seeing you come undone under his touches, he loved turning you into a whimpering, brainless thing that would melt whenever his fingers would so much as graze your skin.

So when he got out this box of toys, you were a little startled. You were used to feeling him inside you, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock, but seeing those objects he pulled out one after the other caused you to frown deeply. He noticed your doubts, quickly grabbed a long, skinny thing and moved up to lay down beside you, his warm eyes on you.

“Open wide for me,” he said quietly and proceeded to push his finger against your lips. Swallowing hard, you complied and parted your lips. He didn't wait for you to fully open, he already pushed his finger into your mouth and onto your tongue and deeper inside until you felt his fingertip brushing against the back of your throat.

You gagged immediately and he pulled out again, watching you with a curious expression on his freckled face as you struggled through a little cough fit. His hand moved to your throat and caressed it gently until he squeezed it lightly between his thumb and index finger, massaging it with a grip that got firmer with every passing heartbeat.

He stopped when you swallowed against his hand. Tilting his head, he leaned over you, his lips brushing against yours as his eyes fixated yours. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low and vibrating through your very core.

Despite the position you found yourself in, you didn't need long to give him his answer. “Yes,” you whispered, knowing that deep down you would allow him to do anything to you. “I trust you,” you said firmly, definitely not anticipating the things he had in mind for you.

He gave you a smile that immediately erased any doubt that tried to poke through the fog inside your head and a kiss that left you breathless and certainly wanting more.

Once he leaned back, still watching you with warm affection that instantly started the waterworks between your splayed legs, he put his hand on your cheek and caressed it, before slipping his finger back between your lips. Fingers, to be exact, two this time, and they went slowly deeper, pushing and prodding at the back of your throat.

You did your best not to gag again, forcing yourself to focus on his eyes rather than the strange sensation. You couldn't, however, stop the tears from forming inside the corners of your eyes as he tilted your chin up and moved his fingers deeper. Breaking eye contact by squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered quietly, squirming in your restraints, the ropes cutting into your skin as you did so.

“Shh,” he made, not thinking about removing his fingers. You felt saliva pooling around them, mixing with the tears streaming down your cheeks as it spilled past your quivering lips.

“Mhmpf!” you mumbled against him, trying to kick your legs as you felt your head spinning from lack of oxygen. Finally he released you and you took deep, desperate breaths as you tried to relax, staring up at him almost accusingly. He just watched you, bringing his wet fingers to his lips and letting the tip of his tongue trail along them.

You blushed deeply at the sight and immediately halted your struggles, gulping down the excess saliva. His smirk caused you to shiver. Bringing his fingers back to your face, he caressed your jaw before he leaned down and kissed you softly. You kissed him back hungrily and when he moved away again, you strained your neck to stay close to him, but he denied your feeble request to taste more of him. With a sigh you sank back into the cushions.

“I love how eager you are,” he whispered and watched you closely. “Can you open your pretty mouth once more, love?” he asked and this time, you hesitated, inhaling sharply as you noticed the object in his hand. It had a phallic size and form, smaller and thinner than the only original cock you'd ever seen, but it was still a little intimidating when he pressed its tip against your lips.

It felt firm but had a soft texture, like leather or rubber, and when he pushed it past your lips it tasted a little earthy. You swallowed in anticipation, and opened your mouth wider, your eyes on his concentrated face as he inserted the object deeper and deeper. “Suck on it,” he instructed quietly and you hollowed your cheeks and closed your lips tightly around it, doing what he told you, while he grabbed your chin and tilted it up again, gently pushing it further in.

You felt it hitting the back of your throat and you had to close your eyes, tears falling from your lashes as you fought against your gag reflex. With his hand holding your face, you couldn't really move away, so whenever it got too much, you'd hit your knuckles against the bed post (about the only movement you could make) and he would stop and pull it back out. He kept watching you with interest and kept repeating the same motion for what felt like a long time until you felt you got more and more comfortable with that thing in your mouth.

He started moving it faster and harder against you, the wet noises mixing with your soft whimpers, before he pulled it out completely and let it fall beside your head as he grabbed your face with both hands and pushed his mouth onto yours, not letting you breathe but rewarding you for your efforts with a deep, hungry kiss that made your legs twitch.

“I can't wait to put my cock down your throat,” he whispered gravelly into your mouth, his words and the idea of it making you shiver. “But that's for another time...”

When he leaned back with a smirk, he left you breathless and dishevelled, your lips swollen and trembling, saliva and tears dripping from your chin. He moved his hand over your skin and wiped at it gently, before his hand travelled down your throat and lower, his fingers trailing between your breasts. His dark eyes were on you as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to your chest. You felt your heart beating faster, right against his mouth, the bruises on your neck throbbing in anticipation.

You inhaled deeply, breathing against his touches, as he started leaving a trail of wet kisses on your skin, occasionally sucking and licking, leaving visible marks on you, other times grazing you with his teeth, scraping and nibbling and downright biting you – and you would wince every time, low whimpers falling from your lips.

Then he moved to your breasts. Leaning back to look at you, he grabbed them with firm hands, enveloping them completely in his big palms, squeezing and kneading them until he coaxed a moan out of you. You watched him, almost not daring to breathe as he fondled your chest vigorously. His eyes were always on you, as if he was studying every single twitch you made, not the tiniest reaction went past his attentive stare.

You blushed deeply underneath it, the intensity in his dark eyes was enough to not only make you whimper louder but squirm against him, your unattended centre throbbing in growing need. But he took his time. He usually did, but this time felt particularly slow, almost excruciatingly slow. He was either teasing you or just really wanted to see how far he could push you before you succumbed to your urges and begged him to do more.

While he kept groping your left breast, he moved his mouth to your right and without hesitation started sucking on your nipple. It was already hard from all the things he'd done before, so feeling his tongue poke and circle it, only caused more moans to fall from your sore throat. You thrashed your head back into the pillow and closed your eyes when he teased it with his teeth, a sharp pain jolting through you at the sensation.

When he switched and assaulted your other breast with his mouth, you whined and squirmed beneath him, the tension inside your stomach building and building. Yet he kept his routine, groping and kneading, rolling your nipple between his fingers while he sucked and licked and gnawed on the other.

You strained against the ropes tying you to the bedposts and for a moment, a single moment before your mind became utterly useless, you looked around and noticed that he had drawn the curtains and you could only hope that he had put a silencing charm on them as well, because you knew for a fact that you couldn't hold those noises in. But when your insides convulsed under the constant stimulation of your tender nipples, you didn't care if anyone could hear you.

You could only arch your back, pushing your chest right against his face, as your hips stuttered and you tried to no avail to press your thighs together for that little bit of extra friction that he had denied you by forcing your legs open. So despite the rush settling in your stomach, that feeling of release that was so, so close, it never came, and you wailed loudly when he let go of your breasts and leaned back to look at you.

You were glaring at him and he only smirked wider. “Patience, love,” he whispered and gave you a quick peck to your trembling lips. You then watched him settling back between your legs, his fingers ghosting your skin before he focused on the toys he had brought. More phallic looking objects, in all sizes and lengths and girths, a series of balls tied to a string and other things you couldn't even describe.

You swallowed hard at the sight, but somehow you were indeed eager to see where this was going. Before he picked any of it, you felt his hands rubbing up and down your inner thighs and you moaned softly in response, your legs twitching against his touch. Then you watched him take a very close look at your quivering cunt, and if you weren't in heat and need and almost driven to madness with desire, you'd be embarrassed and slightly humiliated by how closely he looked at you.

But all you wanted was for him to touch you and to your utter surprise he complied. His fingers drew gentle lines over your pelvis until they reached your sex, his thumbs firmly pushing against your lower lips, caressing them with precision. Your breaths were shallow and every touch caused you to shiver deeply. He paused then and tilted his head, still staring at your centre. You'd think he was looking at it for the first time, when in reality he might know it better than you do.

And still he seemed fascinated by it. You could only blush more, the heat travelling down your body warming your skin and causing his marks on you to throb slightly. While he had one hand pressed to your lower stomach, his thumb teasingly close to your clit, you felt his other glide over your folds, gently pushing and squeezing them between his fingers, the wet squelching sound coaxing an embarrassed whimper out of you.

He looked up then and gave you a disarming smile. “Don't be ashamed,” he whispered as he moved his finger right through your wetness, the sound and sensation of it making you flinch. “It's quite impressive to be this wet, you know?” You raised your eyebrows at him and he chuckled softly. “I find it really fascinating how you react to my touches... I only have to do this –” he said and pushed his thumb firmly against that sensitive bundle of nerves – and you could do nothing but moan and buck your hips in response while a deep tremor rushed through your legs. “And you come undone almost instantly.”

You barely registered his words as you were only focused on his voice and its deep vibrations and the effect it had on you. You never told him this, but you could probably come just from hearing his whispers in your ear. The thought alone gave you goosebumps. You should probably mention it to him at some point, if he was already so fascinated by how you reacted to his touches. The things he could do with just his voice... You sighed deeply.

He rubbed your clit again and brought you back to the here and now as you moaned softly once more and licked your lips, trying to breathe evenly through your nose. His eyes were on you still, a mixture of hunger and curiosity, as he continued to move his fingers through your folds, and it was when he moved both hands down and gently put your lower lips between his thumb and forefinger, that you inhaled sharply. He pulled your folds apart and looked right at your entrance.

You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he did so and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he kept your hole exposed to the cold air of the room, watching it with eager eyes. You had to look away at one point, your cheeks burning and your heart thundering inside your quickly rising and falling chest. Even though he knew your body inside and out and you were usually very comfortable around him, it still felt weird having him look so closely, inspecting you like this.

You cried out in surprise when you suddenly felt his warm mouth right on your sensitive skin, his tongue taking a long stroke through your wetness, teasing your entrance and lapping at your clit, and the moan he issued almost drove you over the edge immediately. It didn't take long for you to scratch the almost and replace it with definitely as he kept licking you with a force you hadn't expected.

Your first orgasm rolled over you quite gently, your body accepting the anticipated release with a series of tremors and shudders as the tension within dissipated slowly. You moaned softly, gripping the ropes that held you tightly as it washed over you. At that point you had no idea that you wouldn't come down from this high for a very long time.

With his mouth still pressed to your folds, you felt him move his hands and he blindly grabbed the nearest object he could find before he leaned back and without any hesitation or further preparation pushed the phallic thing right into your still shivering channel. You gasped in irritation and your eyes flew open as you stared down at him, your walls clenching around the cold, hard item. A deep shudder made your legs tremble as he kept pushing it in until it almost disappeared inside you.

Before it did, he pulled it back out, gently moving it in circles, then withdrew it entirely. Instead he used his fingers and quickly slipped two of them in, coaxing more moans out of you. He pushed them knuckles deep into you before he started pumping them hard and fast, using the aftershocks of your last orgasm to give you another one right away.

Thrashing your head into the pillow, your whimpers louder now, he worked his digits against you and the tension built and built – yet before you could embrace the sweet release once more, he pulled out and shoved that object back inside you. You wailed and squirmed against it, your walls tightening around it, pulling it deeper – until you bucked your hips upwards, your eyes squeezed shut, as your trembling orgasm made the thing slip out with a force neither of you seemed to have anticipated.

The object rolled off the bed and disappeared past the curtains. You heard him chuckling and felt his weight leaving the bed, before he returned, settling back between your legs. “I didn't know your pussy could do that,” he whispered and when you looked at him out of half-lidded eyes, you felt your cheeks blush even more. “Fascinating,” he added and returned the item to the box.

He then grabbed the line of balls attached to a string and you watched him with curiosity and slight concern as he cradled the item between his long fingers. You were breathing heavily, your legs still twitching, and he wouldn't let you catch your breath as he proceeded to push the first ball against your wet folds. Not being able to see them disappear inside you, you could feel them being sucked in by your clenching walls, ball after ball, until they filled you up with a pressure you hadn't felt before.

His hand was on your stomach as he gently pushed against your skin and as he did so, he tugged at the string carefully and ball after ball plopped back out of you, your hips stuttering with every single one. You didn't know how many there were, how many he had managed to fit inside you, but when he repeated this motion, you could only lean back and stare at the ceiling, the sensation strangely relaxing.

Your soft moans and whimpers became a constant drone in your empty head so that you could barely hear him when he told you to push them out. You opened your eyes and looked at him, feeling the balls lodged inside your tight channel, pressing against your walls, stretching you, filling you up in a kind of comforting way. “What?” you breathed quietly.

“Push them out,” he repeated and gently tugged at the string again, but left it to you to get them out of your quivering cunt. You frowned at him and bucked your hips as you deliberately clenched your walls around them and with a deep moan you managed to make them move within you. His smile grew on his face as you felt the pressure lessening and the balls slipping out of you one by one. “Well done,” he whispered and you swallowed at that.

His praises always caught you quite off guard, but not as much as his fingers as they plunged back into you and you moaned loudly at the sensation. Somehow he was moving deeper and you realized he had angled his hand to drive his digits into you a little past his knuckles. You felt him caressing your walls from the inside, gently pushing and prodding, and when he spread his fingers, you flinched and whimpered, only to be calmed down by his hand still on your stomach, rubbing in soothing circles.

You watched him breathlessly, biting your lip as you arched your neck to take a better look at what he was doing, and when you saw how he removed his fingers to push them further together and press his thumb against his palm, you realized he was about to push his entire hand into you. You gasped and squirmed against him, not quite believing his big hand would fit into you, but he shushed you and continued as you tensed against your restraints.

He was concentrated and carefully pushed his fingertips past your clenching entrance, really trying to make his hand as narrow as possible as he entered you. You whimpered more, your breaths erratic, the tension on your tight skin unbelievably firm, almost painfully so. He kept pushing and when it got too much, you thrashed your head back into the pillow and surrendered to it, knowing you couldn't stop him anyway.

“Does it hurt?” you heard him whisper and you could only nod, whining quietly.

Yet instead of pulling back out, he kept going, slowly pushing his hand further in, his knuckles being the widest part really stretching your sensitive skin. As he noticed your struggle, you felt him lower his free hand to move it to your clit, and as he began to rub it in tight circles, you felt your centre relaxing slightly and indeed he managed to push his hand past his knuckles and from there it seemed as if your channel was sucking him in on its own.

You held your breath at the pressure within and squeezed your eyes shut, beads of sweats running down your temples. “Look at me,” you then heard him whisper and because you couldn't deny him anything, you opened your eyes and watched him, your face a mask of exertion and pain, your lips trembling. “Look at my hand,” he then said and looked down first – and when you did you could only see his wrist sticking out between your folds. The sight made you gasp deeply as more and more tremors rushed through your body.

Yet it was when he started moving his fingers inside you, gently unfolding them against your soft flesh, that you cried out and unconsciously jerked your hips against his hand – only making the sensation worse. Tears started streaming down your cheeks and you stared at him pleadingly, tossing against the ropes holding you in place, but he didn't budge. Instead he moved his hand slightly, pushing even deeper, even though you felt as if he was already prodding your cervix with his fingertips.

You had always admired his long, slender fingers and what they could do to you, but you never imagined having his entire hand shoved inside you as if you were a fucking puppet – yet he did move you like one as he started pushing and teasing, each movement of his fingers coaxing either a shrill sound out of you or making your limbs twitch. You felt your stomach tensing up and when he started turning his hand slightly, you completely lost it.

Thrashing about as much as you could against the ropes, you fought against the intrusion with all you had. It was too much, it felt too much, he was filling you up in ways nobody should be filled up, and it got even worse when he began to move his hand in and out in tiny movements, pulling back to his knuckles and sinking back in until his wrist was hugged by your folds again, and you moaned and groaned and whimpered, your body quickly overwhelmed by the sensation.

Your head was spinning and your breaths rapid puffs that didn't get any air into your lungs. Your heart was racing, thundering against your chest, ready to burst right through your ribs while your pelvis felt as if it was cracked open from the inside.

“Please...” you whimpered helplessly, your voice barely a hoarse whisper.

But he kept going, moving his hand faster and faster, and your walls clenched around him, so tight it hurt, and each subtle brush of a finger caused you to moan and shriek, your hips stuttering, and you felt something growing within you that wasn't pleasure. It was panic. Despite the stimulation, you felt as if he would never be able to get his hand back out, how could that possibly work, it didn't seem right, it all felt too tight and narrow, and in your frenzy, you cried out again and again, more and more sweat covering your bare body.

“Sebastian! Please! Get it out!” you shrieked and thrashed your head against the pillow, whining desperately as the tremors jolted through your body. And suddenly he did and it just worked, he slipped out without any problem, and the sudden loss of him felt almost as bad as when he had been inside your tight walls.

You whimpered softly, your hips twitching, your walls still trying to clench back to their normal state. A cold breeze passed over your skin as you lay there, breathing heavily, completely deliriously at this point. You felt him shifting against you and then his hands were on your face and you didn't know if it was the sweat and tears on your cheeks or your own juices coating his fingers. He brushed his lips against yours softly, causing you to open your eyes lazily.

“It's alright,” he whispered soothingly. “It's all good now. You did so well...”

He rewarded you with another soft kiss and you just leaned into it, too exhausted and shaken to deepen it and just grateful for the break. But you somehow knew that he wasn't done with you yet.

“Do you want to feel good again?” he asked you, watching you closely as his breath ghosted your trembling lips. You wanted to tell him that despite the discomfort you had just experienced, you still felt good, the pleasure was coursing through your nerves way more intense than the pain had done. But you couldn't word it, so you just said: “Yes...”

He smiled and gave you a quick peck, before leaning back again, once more settling between your splayed legs. You watched out of tired eyes how he rummaged through the items lying on the bed and you wondered what he would choose next. After having his hand stretching your insides, you felt that nothing could top that, and indeed he didn't go for the biggest item, but the smallest: an egg-shaped thing on a string.

You felt his hand on your stomach, gently caressing your skin and the tension beneath, while his other hand weighed the object carefully, before he put it to your wet folds. It was surprisingly warm and felt almost comforting against your quivering cunt. He moved it through your wetness and then pushed it past your entrance with one swift nudge of his thumb until it disappeared inside, swallowed by your tight warmth. You shivered slightly, unable to react any differently with your body still mainly out of order.

Then you watched him raise the other end of the string and heard him mumble something under his breath – and once he was done, you flinched so badly, you almost jumped off the bed if you weren't tied by your wrists and ankles. Your body convulsed in shock as you felt the little item inside you vibrating vigorously, your walls clenching around it as it seemed to move on its own, its thrumming motion taking it places you had no idea were this sensitive. You moaned and cried, immediately back to being stimulated out of your mind.

Squirming more and more with the little egg lodged inside you, you bucked your hips and this time, Sebastian held you down as he pushed your pelvis into the bed, watching you with dark eyes and a curious gaze, and even in your mind-blowing ecstasy you noticed the red splotches on his cheeks and the hunger plastered all over his freckled face. You weren't able to watch him any longer as wave after wave of pleasure washed over your body, the little vibrations strong enough to turn those waves into full-on tsunamis as you tried to float above them, hoping not to drown in the sensations.

All your limbs were twitching, your muscles contracting, your walls clenching and unclenching, your heart ready to burst out of your chest. You could barely breathe any more as you gave up fighting it. Bright lights engulfed you, stars danced behind your eyelids, a familiar weightlessness made you forget all the things that had happened up until this point.

Then you heard his voice and he was leaning close enough to whisper into your ear and more and more shivers ran down your spine. “Squirt for me,” you heard him say and you didn't quite know what he meant at first, but then your body reacted all the same as he put his fingers on your clit and rubbed small circles around it, assisting the little vibrating egg in taking you to never-before-experienced heights – and with a force you couldn't control and a shrill shriek you arched your hips off the bed and your release shot out of you, quickly followed by the egg that would have launched into the room as well if it wasn't for the string he was still holding on to.

You slumped back onto the bed, breathing heavily, too exhausted to even open your eyes. He was kissing your earlobe. “Well done,” he whispered and you moaned softly at the sound of his deep voice. His hand trailed up your body, gently teasing and caressing, before he wrapped it around your throat and brought his mouth to your cheek, lapping at your tears. A whimper escaped you and any further noises were silenced as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you demandingly, not allowing you to even turn your head away to catch your breath.

You felt light-headed quickly, not even breathing through your nose seemed to help, and yet you didn't care. You were still floating on the aftershocks of your orgasm, whichever it was by now, and if you were perfectly honest, you'd die a very happy girl if this would have been the end.

But of course it wasn't. How could you even think that he would be done with you just yet? Well, you didn't think, you couldn't, there was only static in your head, such blissful nothingness that was only penetrated by the occasional lightning bolt jolting through your system whenever he would push any of your buttons. And you had so many to choose from, every inch of your body felt sensitive right now and those regions that normally were the most sensitive were throbbing violently – and when he would brush them, you'd flinch and moan into his mouth.

His free hand was on your breast again, pinching and rolling your hard nipple, as his fingers tightened more and more around your throat, squeezing until you felt your eyelids fluttering. Gasping deeply, trying to get air into your lungs, you stared at him, your mouth open and your lips sore and swollen and trembling, and he would only release you when your eyes threatened to roll into the back of your head.

“Breathe,” he commanded and you did, taking quick, heavy breaths, almost wheezing as you tried to fill your lungs again. “Easy, easy,” he whispered and gently caressed your bruised throat. “Slow breaths... in... and out...” he gave you the tempo and you slowly fell into his rhythm, watching him closely as you did so.

Calming down eventually, you even managed to give him a soft smile. You saw him lick his lips and stare at your mouth, before he dove in again and kissed you passionately, throwing breathing calmly to the wind immediately. You whimpered quietly as he pushed his tongue into your mouth and pressed it against yours. You could barely reply the motion and so he pulled your tongue between his lips and sucked gently on it, coaxing more sounds out of your throat as you shivered against him.

He was still somewhat hovering above you, propped on one elbow, his body too far away to feel the heat rush through him. You felt the urge to touch him grow bigger and bigger and your hands twitched helplessly in their confines. All you could think about was the need to feel his soft locks between your fingers or his warm skin beneath them or his firm muscles tensing against your touch, you wanted to feel his weight on you, pushing you into the mattress, giving you another reason to become breathless – but none of this was going to happen, because it didn't look like he would untie you anytime soon.

Luckily he kept at least kissing you for quite a while, his lips sucking on yours, his tongue invading your mouth and licking as far as he could reach, and even though your lips felt raw and swollen, you never wanted it to end, in spite (or maybe because) of the lack of oxygen that left you feeling light-headed. When he would lean back, his heavy breaths hit your shivering lips and you opened your eyes to watch him, taking in with a feeling of glee and satisfaction that he was just as breathless as you.

He stared at you with dark eyes and an intensity that made your legs shake, the hunger for you evident in his gaze. Despite the heated kiss, you felt rather relaxed again – and just realizing that seemed to make him move again. He was back between your legs and without warning grabbed your cunt and pushed two fingers inside, quickly curling them inside you as he pushed his thumb against your clit and his fingertips against that sweet spot right beneath – and you immediately arched your hips against the touch and moaned loudly, any thought about being relaxed quickly out of the window once more.

He held you like that for a moment, his hand like a claw around your pleasure points, and just this motion made you shudder and shiver all over again. His free hand moved over his toy collection and he grabbed a particularly big and long one, yet instead of shoving it into your hole, he brought it up to your lips and pushed it against them.

“Open,” he just said, his voice even lower than before. You did so with hesitation, the tip of that thing really bore resemblance to a cock, and when he slipped it past your bruised lips, you whimpered deeply. “Use your tongue,” he commanded and you started moving your tongue around the object as he shoved it in and out of your mouth, the wet noises mixing with the slight squelching of his hand still gripped around your cunt.

Once your saliva coated the soft rubbery surface of the object, he pulled it out and moved it down between your legs and swiftly exchanged his fingers with it as he pushed it past your tight entrance with a little bit of struggle. You moaned and whimpered, squirming against the intrusion, shuddering deeply as he kept going until it was all the way in and barely poking out of you. He left it in there and removed his hand and you watched in growing displeasure how he stood up from the bed and moved one of the curtains aside.

“Hold that for me, will you?” he whispered and gave you a sly smirk. “Don't lose it like the other one, okay?”

You swallowed and nodded quickly, then watched him disappear from your view. You were left alone on the bed, tied to its posts, a thick immobile thing wedged into your centre and you didn't dare move, nor accidentally clench your walls around it in fear of pushing it out like you had done before. Every passing heartbeat made that harder as you felt it stretching you and the thought alone made you want to buck your hips. Gritting your teeth, you stared up at the ceiling and waited.

While you did, other thoughts flooded your clouded mind. Where did he go? Did he leave me here? What if his room mates come back and find me like this? What if... You stopped yourself before that train of thought could become any more horrifying. Sighing deeply, you looked around and noticed the red, raw skin around your wrists and you winced as you moved them. Suddenly you missed being overstimulated out of your mind, it had made everything so much more tolerable.

“Sebastian?” you whispered quietly, despite knowing that he probably wouldn't be able to hear you. More time passed and you didn't know whether it was minutes or hours, it certainly felt too long for comfort.

Just as you were starting to lose your mind over your situation, several things happened at once. The first, most notable thing was the object lodged inside you – it started humming, lowly vibrating, and you gasped sharply. You felt it moving within you and you had the urge to put your hands on it to keep it in – and as you thought that, you felt the pressure on your wrists lessening and then your hands were free.

You didn't really have time to enjoy your new freedom as you quickly moved your shaking hands down and pressed them between your legs, moaning louder as you kept the thrumming thing deep inside you, thrashing your head back as it hit all the sweet spots while your walls clenched tightly around it, its vibrations causing tremors to rush through your entire body.

If only you could press your thighs together as well. You kicked your legs as they started twitching badly and just like what happened to your wrists, the ropes around your ankles loosened – and not a second too soon. As the tension became almost unbearable, you rolled onto your side, your hands firmly pressed onto your wet folds as you clenched your thighs around them and frantically rocked back and forth, moaning loudly as you rode your high and the vibrating object inside you with everything you had and what was given to you.

Wave after wave crashed over you and you whimpered tiredly into the bedding as you curved yourself into the fetal position, still shuddering deeply as the thing never stopped thrumming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to let it go. It felt too good as it filled you up completely, fitting into you so perfectly, an almost familiar feeling as you thought about it.

“Already done with your new toy?” you then heard Sebastian's voice and you looked up almost panicked, because you were without your confines and pleasuring yourself without him being there, but he didn't seem to mind. “I thought you'd like that one...”

You finally saw him at the foot of the bed as he came through the curtain and climbed back onto the bed, his hands on your hips as he gently rolled you around again until you were lying on your back once more. Prying your thighs apart, he then grabbed your hands and rested them on the bed beside you, before he firmly gripped the thrumming toy and pulled it out of you, coaxing a deep moan and several shivers out of you.

As he did so, you saw a thick liquid oozing out of the tip of the object, now really bearing resemblance to a cock – and weirdly enough you suddenly recognized it. “It worked then,” he said quietly and smiled at you. You watched him with a frown before he brought the thing closer to your face, you saw it throbbing and twitching, more and more cum-like substance dripping down its veined shaft.

“Do you like a taste?” he asked – and without hesitation you sat up and raised your shaking hands to cradle the item between your fingers before you gave it a hearty lick. He watched you intently, curiosity back in his warm gaze, yet when your tongue made contact with the toy, you saw him flinching slightly. He took a shuddering breath and licked his lips. “Feels nice,” he whispered.

You stared at him. “You can... feel that?” you asked with your voice hoarse and feeble.

“It's my cock, of course I can feel it,” he said with a chuckle.

Your eyes went wider. “What do you mean, your cock? Did you –” Your gaze wandered to his groin and you heard him laugh.

“No! It's just a simple spell, like a cloning spell with some extra enchantments,” he explained and gently took one of your hands and brought it to the front of his trousers. “See? It's still there,” he said and you could feel his hard length through the fabric – just like you could feel it in your hand, only that it was detached from his body.

Either your mind was still clouded from having too many orgasms or this was both one of the weirdest and yet best ideas you'd ever heard. “Can I... keep it?” you whispered, holding onto the item carefully.

He chuckled deeply. “Only if you keep it well hidden in your dorm room, it is quite sensitive, you know?”

“Is it... always... connected to you?”

“I could lift the spell, but why not live a little dangerously, eh?” he said with a wink. “I trust you won't prank me with it...”

You watched him with your cheeks flushed, his words immediately creating several scenarios how you could use this thing against him – yet in the end your mind always came back to cradling it between your legs when you were alone at night. The thought of having a piece of him with you at all times sounded like a dream. “You can trust me,” you whispered and gave your new favourite toy a soft peck on the head. “I will take good care of it...”

“I'm sure you will,” he said softly and leaned over you to kiss your damp forehead. “How do you feel, by the way?”

You inhaled deeply and watched him, having momentarily suppressed the state of your body. You didn't feel bad, though you just knew that you would be sore for days after having your muscles constantly assaulted like this. Smiling tiredly at him, you said: “I feel good, properly satisfied.”

He narrowed his eyes at that and tilted his head. “Hmm, not what I wanted to hear,” he said with a smirk and in a swift motion he grabbed the toy out of your hand and shoved it back into your cunt without giving you any chance of objection. You moaned deeply and even more so when you saw him inhaling sharply as well. You could only imagine what this must feel like for him.

He then placed his hands on your waist and pushed you slightly up the bed, giving him more room to settle between your legs once more. You saw him waving his wand and out of nowhere came new ropes to wind around your wrists and ankles and tie you back to the bedposts. You squirmed against them, falling into your whining demeanour as you felt your body returning to its overwhelmed and vulnerable condition all over again.

“Sebastian, please...” you whimpered, straining your wrists and bucking your hips, but he only looked at you darkly, pushing lazily against the object wedged between your folds as it started to slip out slightly.

“Please what?” he muttered, chewing on his lips as he watched you.

“I... I want to feel you,” you breathed, barely able to word your needs as the tension started to build up once more. “All of you...”

He smirked at that and tilted his head. When he moved, he pressed his knee right against your centre – and you shrieked in a mixture of surprise, pain and pleasure as the toy slipped deeper, pushing right against your cervix, making your head spin, but the sensation was overpowered by his mouth colliding hard with yours as he kissed you deeply, his own moans slipping past his tongue as he forced it into your mouth.

You wanted to throw your arms around his neck and just hold onto him, but all you could manage to do was a weak twitching of your fingers as they sat forgotten in their confines once more. With his thrumming cock-toy deep inside you, his kiss quickly drove you over the edge as well. Moaning and whimpering against him, you bucked your hips into his knee and took whatever little friction it could give you to push you higher and higher.

As your walls fluttered wildly, the tension inside your stomach burst into a million little pieces of light and you saw stars dancing behind your eyelids as you thrashed your head into the pillow. He never stopped kissing you, his mouth holding yours captive and your shared heavy breaths made you both feel light-headed quickly.

Only after your body ceased shuddering would he finally move. You lay on the bed completely spent, breathless and slightly sore, sweat covering your skin and burning in the bruises he had given you, your hair sticking to your forehead, your lips raw and trembling, your cheeks tear-soaked and flushed, and even though you were a mess and barely able to function any more, he was not done with you still.

“There's one more thing I want to try,” he told you and you felt him shifting against you. You heard the rustle of clothes and then you felt his fingers at your entrance, gently prying the object out of the tight grip of your cunt. You whimpered softly, barely fighting anything any more. When it left your throbbing channel, you missed it already, its warmth and thickness had been almost comforting to you.

Yet you didn't have to miss it long as he suddenly pushed the real thing into you and you moaned deeply as your eyes flew open. He had moved your pelvis up and his thighs beneath yours as he knelt between your legs, one hand on your waist as he guided himself deeper, the other gripping the toy firmly. You watched him out of half-lidded eyes, your breath hitching in your throat as it occurred to you what he might be planning.

You squirmed in your restraints, your stomach immediately tensing up even more, as he moved the hand holding the cock-toy closer to where your bodies were connected. Your breaths were shallow, your walls clenching up in anticipation.

He looked at you then, his gaze dark and hungry, his lips trembling slightly. “This will be interesting,” he said quietly and winked at you, then without further warning pushed the head of the toy between your stretched entrance and his length. You cried out and watched him moan deeply, the pressure on your sensitive skin almost as bad as when he had forced his hand inside you, yet the toy was more forgiving and softer than his knuckles and slipped into your tight space surprisingly fast.

The pain and pressure of the double penetration was still there though and you writhed and whimpered, arching your back into the mattress, trying to ease the sensation of two cocks wedged into your tight channel as your sensitive skin strained around them. He seemed to feel almost as overwhelmed as you as he halted his movements and let the toy rest for a while, only having managed to push its crown in. While you wailed quietly, your body shuddering in constant tremors, you held your breath and watched him as he took a few deep breaths before he continued pushing the object further.

You whimpered louder, feeling so full already it was almost painful. You could feel him stretching you more and more and when the toy was fully wedged in there, you felt his body shuddering against yours. His hands found your waist and he gripped it with shaking fingers. Again you wished you could hold onto him, experience this pain together, comfort each other through it, but your hands were still out of order.

“You are so... tight...” you heard him mumble, his voice low and gravelly. “Damn, so fucking tight...” He kept muttering under his breath, breathing loudly through his nose as you watched him, suddenly more interested in watching him than focusing on your own discomfort. It came back to you when he started moving his hips against you.

A shrill shriek escaped you. It wasn't the constant clenching of your walls as he stretched you, it was the strain on your entrance that made you cry out in pain. “Try to... relax...” he urged you through laboured breaths. But you couldn't, it felt impossible to relax in a situation like this. He seemed to realize that and moved one of his hands down to rub at your clit roughly. You wailed and thrashed your head into the pillow, but despite the not so gentle touch it helped in easing the pressure.

As he kept moving against you, the toy and his cock scraping against your walls and each other, you were quickly overwhelmed by the feeling – yet it started to grow on you. Having two of the same thing inside you felt like nothing you had ever felt before, it was both exhilarating and absolutely terrifying to think about, having your cunt stretched like this – then again it was double the sensation you normally had when he filled you with his girth, it was just more of him, you had to remind yourself as he slowly picked up his pace and slammed his hips firmer into yours.

Your moans mixed with his and the vice-like grip of his hands on your waist kept you from squirming too much, forcing you to just feel him moving within you, feel him building up that tension that coiled inside your stomach, feel him pushing himself to his limits for a change. His groans and grunts grew louder and as you focused on him instead of the constant stretch that would drive you insane otherwise, you watched him come undone right in front of you.

You usually didn't get to see him like this as he always pushed you to your limits before he took care of his own pleasure. And as you were just a whimpering mess whenever he would do that, it never gave you the chance to watch him become a mess as well. Even if this meant that his experiment wasn't as pleasurable to you, it seemed to work wonders on him and you revelled in the sight of him.

Now it was his hair that stuck to his damp forehead, his flushed cheeks and his trembling lips as he worked his hips against you, staring down at you in laboured concentration. You wanted to touch him so badly again, run your hands over his cheeks, down his chest, ease his rapid heartbeat with soothing circles of your palms, wipe his hair out of his eyes and dig your fingers through his locks – but alas your hands were –

You moved them and suddenly the ropes were gone. Too surprised to wonder how that happened, you followed the images in your head and moved your hands to lie on his. He looked up equally surprised, too exerted to give you any other facial expression. You slipped your fingers between his, easing his grip on your waist and forcing him to focus on you, and he complied, interlocking his hands with yours as he kept thrusting hard and fast against you.

You bit your lip, still fighting the pain of the sensation, yet with your hands free you were able to feel him more and better, and following a whim, you pulled his hands towards you, causing him to shift against you as he leaned over you.

And suddenly you felt his entire weight on you, knocking all the air out of your lungs as he pushed you into the mattress, which also meant that his cock and the toy slipped even deeper into you, filling you up so badly that a pained scream escaped you. He quickly muffled it by smashing his mouth against yours. You cried soundless tears through his comforting kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you held onto him desperately, hoping it would end soon.

Soon was a relative term because in this new position it seemed easier for him to move. He moaned into your mouth as he fell into a steady rhythm. With the toy wedged between your walls and his cock, he was only able to move his hips in tiny, rapid snaps, yet the constant friction and pressure quickly got him to where he wanted – and surprisingly enough you as well.

As you felt him (and his enchanted toy) twitching inside you, his jerky movements quickening, you felt your walls tightening around both intruders, the tension in your stomach coiling up painfully, but when he gave you that one final thrust, pushing his entire body into it as he buried his balls in your folds, hitting your cervix with eerie precision, you arched your head back and cried out in what could only be pleasure as he had finally managed to push away the pain.

Your muscles contracted and you squeezed your eyes shut, your hands gripping his hair forcefully as you moaned through your release – and at the same time he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close as his entire body shuddered deeply, both of his cocks spilling their seed deep inside of you. His warmth was overwhelming and with double the amount of cum pumping into you, you quickly felt it spilling out – and you didn't ask yourself how anything could fit past the strained skin of your entrance.

Your body seemed to be capable of a lot of things you had never anticipated, as this evening and his consistent experiments had shown you. In your haze you couldn't even remember all the things he had stuffed you and pleasured you with, even though it would probably be your body that would remember more than your clouded mind. With all the strain and pressure it had to endure and the marks and bites he had left on your skin, with how your muscles ached from the constant spasms, you could be lucky if you were able to leave this bed any time soon.

Not that you necessarily wanted that. Lying beneath him, smothered by his body, impaled by his throbbing cocks, you didn't feel the need to be anywhere else. You were with him, double the amount of him even, you could feel him, warm and heavy and comforting, his hair between your fingers and his mouth pressed to yours as he kissed you lazily while both of you came down from your highs slowly.

His breaths eased against you and your own shuddering ebbed away, but only until he shifted on top of you again, causing you to wince. You grabbed his face and looked at him. “Don't move,” you whispered.

He raised his eyebrows. “Doesn't this hurt you?”

“It's a good hurt,” you replied quietly, which earned you a shaking of his head and a frantic kiss.

“You shouldn't be in pain like this,” he breathed against your lips. “I never meant to... cause you pain...”

“I know you didn't,” you said softly, your thumbs caressing his flushed cheeks. “But it's okay. I can handle it.” You chuckled softly. “If your experiments have shown you anything then it's that I can definitely handle whatever you throw my way.”

He smiled almost shyly. “You certainly did, I am really impressed,” he whispered, pushing his lips to yours once more. “And I am... grateful that you indulge me like this... that's not something anyone would do.”

“Well, I'm not anyone, I'm your person, and like I told you many times before: you can do anything to me.”

He chuckled at your words. “Careful what you wish for, love,” he teased and kissed your cheek, before he started moving against you once more.

You fought the urge to cry out and pressed your lips together, breathing loudly through your nose. He watched you, yet he continued to shift his hips back and slowly pulled out of the tight fit of your cunt. When the pressure lessened almost immediately once at least one of him was out, you inhaled deeply, then watched with your heart thundering inside your chest how he poked at the toy still lodged in your clenching walls.

He leaned back on his knees, his fingers pushing past the mess he had left inside you to retrieve the object, but your walls didn't seem to want to part from it just yet. “Help me out a little?” he asked quietly and with a smirk, and you complied, albeit reluctantly, bucking your hips upwards and deliberately clenching and unclenching to push the toy out.

But it wouldn't budge. “Just... leave it in,” you suggested with your cheeks burning.

“I don't think that's a good idea,” he said a little breathlessly, still prodding his fingers into you but he only seemed to push it further in.

“Perhaps I don't want to let go yet,” you whispered. “Perhaps I want to keep that part of you with me...”

He stared at you and blinked slowly, before he looked down at his seed seeping out of your hole. More or less reluctantly he stilled his attempts of pulling the toy out and leaned back more, inhaling deeply. As he still considered your words, he turned to your ankles and freed them from the rope with a flick of his finger. You remained lying there, motionless, with only the occasional twitch jolting through your thighs.

“That... might be the sweetest and the most perverted thing you ever said,” he eventually replied and there was a sly glint in his dark eyes. You laughed at that and reached your arms out to him, beckoning him closer. As he lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms, he chuckled. “And I thought I was the pervert here...”

“You still are,” you said and smirked at him as you snuggled against him. “But I fear that you had a bad influence on me.”

“Oh certainly,” he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, his hand trailing over the marks and bruises he had left on your skin. “And I might regret giving you this toy after all...”

“Aww, but why? I told you I'll take good care of it. I'll keep it warm and cosy and carry it with me everywhere –” you started until his look of surprise and indignation caused you to laugh out loud. “What? You don't believe me? Just imagine it for a moment: as I walk through the hallways, hurrying to my next class, I'll always have you with me, wedged inside, my walls embracing you lovingly. Sitting might be interesting, but I'm certainly up for the challenge.”

“Alright, now that is the most perverted thing you ever said!” he exclaimed and shook his head, kissing your jaw. “And I don't believe a word you're saying, you won't even make out with me in public!”

“That's not true, I made out with you in public countless times, I just don't want anyone else to see my pussy, okay? You have it easy with that convenient flap in your breeches while I have to expose myself to everyone around – and I really don't want to scar a first-year for life, you know?”

He chuckled deeply, the vibrations of his voice rumbling through you. “But traversing the halls with my cock wedged between your legs is okay?”

“Well, it's just your cock, not as conspicuous as if your whole body would be attached to it,” you smirked. “Easy to hide under my skirt.”

He groaned as you shifted your hips, your walls clenching tightly around the aforementioned toy. “Oh what have I done?” he mumbled and sighed deeply.

“Created a monster,” you whispered and leaned closer to kiss him softly, chuckling against him.

End notes:

And on that last sentence let me tell you that this motherfucker of a pixel boy truly created a monster in me – I mean look at all the smut I've written, each piece more and more deranged I feel like. Don't get me wrong, I feel very lucky to have this constant muse around me and I've certainly written more in these last months than I've written in literally more than a decade so I am very grateful for that!

But come on, how am I supposed to go back to writing fluff? Just fluff? I don't think I can go back to that. And I hope that you, dear reader, won't mind the filth I'm producing. This fandom is a constant source of inspiration and my outlet for things I never even considered letting out before, but here we are, writing smut after smut.

So Kinktober continues, even though I've already put so many different kinks into the three pieces I wrote for it, but I'm sure I'll find more to explore soon. You just wait, my mind is a deep and dirty well of even dirtier ideas.

[ masterlist ]

Previous Kinktober submissions:

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles (somnophilia, tentacles)

It is that time again (breeding kink)

The horny ghost (voyeurism, masturbation, spectrophilia)

It belongs to me (deepthroating, semi-public)

A Filthy Fantasy (1/2) (cnc, bondage, sensory deprivation, orgasm denial)

A Filthy Fantasy (2/2) (threesome, oral/vaginal/anal)

[021894s]

— 06 shopping spree [0.9k w]

MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

PAIRINGS: brothers bsf!sunghoon x reader

WARNINGS: mentions wearing white to a wedding? cussing

AUTHORS NOTE: hi my loves. i wrote this chap super quick before I go to bed so sorry if it doesn’t live up to your standards ehe. nonetheless I hope you enjoy🫶🏻

You've been at the library for what feels like an eternity, textbooks and notes spread out like a fortress around you. The pressure of exams is weighing heavily on your shoulders, and you're determined to maintain your top of the class status. Your focus is so intense that you barely notice the fatigue creeping in, until your head starts to nod and your pen taps rhythmically against your notebook in a silent plea for rest.

Suddenly, a familiar figure weaves through the maze of bookshelves, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Sunghoon knows this is where you disappear to when you need to concentrate. He quietly approaches your table calling out your name in a whisper, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you’d fallen asleep mid study session.

he lightly nudges you, startling you awake. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases gently. You blink up at him, a mix of confusion and embarrassment coloring your cheeks as you straighten up.

"I'm not sleeping, just... resting my eyes," you protest, but the smile he gives you is too knowing, too warm. He asks if you're okay, his concern genuine as he inquires about your studies and your well-being.

The conversation shifts to the upcoming trip to Japan, the fake dating scheme you've both agreed to, all in an effort to show your ex that you've moved on. Sunghoon leans in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "So, have you thought about what you're wearing to the wedding? I mean, we should probably match, right? To make the whole 'dating' thing more convincing."

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, the idea of coordinating with him both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I... haven't really thought about it," you admit, trying to keep your voice steady despite grogginess from your slumber just a couple minutes ago.

He grins, a playful glint in his eyes. "Well, we've got to make a good impression. How about we go shopping together? Find something that screams 'power couple'?"

The suggestion sends your heart racing, the prospect of spending time together outside of ksana parties and group hangouts made you a bit nervous, but growing up with sunghoon it was hard not to enjoy his company.

“yeah that sounds like a good idea actually. do you have any place in mind?” you ask him. “we can try that new mall across from campus, maybe we’ll find something there?”

“oh i’ve been wanting to go there! saerom says that have really cute cafes and shops” he can’t help but smile at how passionate you become at the mention of shopping. “perfect then i’ll pick you up tomorrow at noon?” he asks you. “noon sounds great” you flash him a smile.

a moment of comfortable silence passes by. Then, he drops the invitation to the ksana party. with him and Heeseung being a part of a frat, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to be invited to parties every other weekend. You hesitate, the responsible part of your mind reminding you of the endless studying still ahead. With a resigned sigh, you decline, a small part of you longing to say yes, to let loose and have fun. But grades come first, and you're not one to let distractions get in the way of your goals.

As the next day comes, You glance at the clock and realize. Sunghoon will be here any minute to pick you up for your shopping trip. With a flutter of excitement, you grab your bag and check your reflection one last time. You've chosen an outfit that's comfortable yet cute. shopping sprees had always been your favorite for as long as you could remember. you blame heeseung because he always dragged you out of the house to give him your very honest (sometimes brutal) opinion.

A gentle knock on the door signals his arrival, and your heart skips a beat. "Ready to go?" Sunghoon asks with a smile as you open the door.

"Definitely," you reply, stepping out and closing the door behind you.

The drive is anything but awkward. you chat and laugh on the way to the mall, the atmosphere light and easy, like it’s always been between you two. Once there, you dive into a sea of stores, each one offering its own treasures.

"How about this one? imagine the look on everyone’s faces when you show up in this" Sunghoon chuckles, holding up a white dress that's definitely a big NO considering you’re attending a wedding.

"are you being serious? " you tease, taking the dress from him. "sunghoon it’s white. I’d probably be chased out the venue and get personally attacked by all the bridesmaids” you can't help but laugh at the thought.

“even more reason for you to get it” a smirk creeps up on his face. “oh so you’re praying on my downfall?” he gasps “ME?? i would never do such a thing” you roll your eyes and walk past him. both of you having smiles on your faces as you continue to look around the store.

You try on dresses and a few other items, each time coming out of the fitting room to Sunghoon's eager eyes. "What do you think?" you ask, doing a little twirl in a black floral slip dress.

Sunghoon's gaze lingers just a moment too long before he catches himself. "It looks great on you," he says, a hint of something more in his voice. "You should definitely get it."

The day continues with more laughter, shared opinions. it’s moments like these where you appreciate sunghoon’s friendship and the sibling dynamic between you two. it makes you less nervous about the whole fake dating scheme. your friendship would remain the same and everything will be ok in the end. or will it?

taglist: @cornenhapovs @myjaeyuns @magssu @leeknowsgfsblog @luminouskalopsia @jentlecoeur @heeslut4life @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @jaeyungxrl @rapmonie2047 @anormieee @nishislcve @leesura @en-happiness @kimsunoops @heelariously @rikiwaify-blog @ihrtgyuuu @purennn @hoonharem @g0niki @hearts4itoshi @yongbokified @shuichi-sama @xiaoderrrr @hongshuaknow @skylaly @yzzyhee @jwnghyuns @seokseokjinkim @syzavxy @xrvrqs @soulvrs @velvetkisscs @ak-aa-li @eneiyri @starlvcieszsq @meowmeowjang @hanhaeji @moonlighthoon @gaylilseokie @seunghancore @heelovesmeknot @nyfwyeonjun

[luv-sims]

our epic love!

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

your epic love story with the infamous jake sim, your academic rival turned luv of ur life <3

jake sim x fem reader

warnings | kissing, angst (barely, like not even.)

2.2k

my second post!! I love this trope and I love jake :( pls cut me some slack btw I got lazy near the end 😭😭

The first time you met the infamous Jake, it was your first day at the prestigious Seoul Academy. Your parents had moved back to South Korea for work, and you found yourself thrown into a world of intense academic pressure and relentless competition. From the moment you stepped into the classroom, it was clear that Jake Sim was the golden boy.

He was sitting at the front of the room, surrounded by a group of friends, laughing at something you couldn't hear. He had an easy charm, a confident aura that made you feel small and insignificant. As you introduced yourself to the class, you could feel his eyes on you, assessing, judging.

"Another transfer student," he murmured to the boy next to him, loud enough for you to hear. "We'll see how long this one lasts." As his best friend Sunghoon chuckled,

The comment stung, but you refused to let it show. You had something to prove, not just to Jake, but to yourself. You had always been a top student back home, and you weren't about to let some arrogant dickhead boy in need of some ass-kicking get in your way.

From that day on, you and Jake were locked in a fierce competition. Every test, every assignment, every debate became a battleground. Jake was brilliant, there was no denying that, but so were you. Your grades were always neck and neck, the top spot constantly shifting between the two of you.

The tension between you was thick. You would exchange sharp words in the hallways, challenge each other in class, and glare at each other during school events. It was exhausting, but it also pushed you to be better, to work harder, and that’s all you needed.

One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, buried under a mountain of books. Finals were approaching, and you were determined to outscore Jake, even at the cost of your well being. You were so focused that you didn't notice him sitting a few tables away, watching you with an unreadable expression biting his lip.

"You're going to burn out if you keep this up," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled. "I don't need your advice, Sim."

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Suit yourself. Just don't come crying to me when you crash and burn, while I get 100%."

You glared at him, anger bubbling up inside you. "I won't. And for your information, I don't plan on crashing and burning. I'm going to beat you Sim." Slightly pouting.

Jake's eyes flashed with something that looked almost like admiration. "We'll see about that." He says softly.

The competition continued, but something was changing. You started to notice things about Jake that you hadn't before. The way his brow furrowed in concentration when he was working on a difficult problem, the way he bit his lip when he was nervous, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about.

You told yourself it didn't matter. Jake was still your rival, and you couldn't afford to be distracted. But it was getting harder to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat when he was around, the way you found yourself thinking about him when you were supposed to be studying.

One evening, you stayed late at school to finish a project. The building was quiet, almost eerie, and you were starting to feel a little uneasy. Just as you were about to pack up and leave, the door opened, and Jake walked in.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I forgot some notes."

You nodded, turning back to your work. You could feel his eyes on you, and it was making it hard to concentrate.

"Do you ever take a break?" he asked after a moment.

"Do you?" you shot back, not looking up.

Jake sighed, walking over to your table. "Look, Y/N, I know we don't get along, but this is getting ridiculous. We're going to make ourselves sick if we keep this up."

You finally looked at him, surprised by the concern in his voice. "Why do you care?"

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "Because... I don't know. Maybe I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. For the first time, you saw a glimpse of vulnerability in Jake, and it made your heart ache. But it also made you scared.

“Don’t act like you care, Sim.” You say with a shaken voice before tearing your gaze away from him.

Despite your resolve to keep your distance, you found yourself working with Jake more often against your will even after that vulnerable moment. It started with a group project that neither of you could avoid, but it quickly became something more. You began to see that Jake wasn't just a rival, he was a person with his own struggles, fears, and dreams.

One evening, as you were working on your project in the library, you found yourself opening up to him about your fears and insecurities. Jake listened, his usual cocky attitude gone, replaced by a quiet understanding.

"I know what it's like to feel like you have to be perfect all the time," he said softly. "My parents expect nothing less from me. It's exhausting."

You looked at him, surprised by his honesty. "I didn't know. You always seem so... confident."

Jake laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "It's all an act. I'm just as scared as you are."

In that moment, something shifted between you. The rivalry was still there, but it was tempered by a newfound understanding and respect. You began to see Jake not as an enemy, but as someone who was just as driven and passionate as you were.

As the weeks passed, you and Jake grew closer. The late-night study sessions became a regular occurrence, and you found yourself looking forward to them. You would talk about everything and nothing, your conversations flowing easily.

But beneath the surface, there were feelings that neither of you were ready to acknowledge. You would catch Jake looking at you with a softness in his eyes that made your heart race, and you knew that your own feelings were growing stronger.

One evening, as you were walking home together after another late-night study session, Jake stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his voice tense with emotion.

Your heart pounded in your chest. "What is it, Sim?"

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

The words hung in the air between you, charged with emotion. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jake leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, tentative kiss.

Your hands lingered onto his soft hair, slightly deepening the kiss before he groaned in your mouth pulling you closer by your neck.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. All the anger, the rivalry, the tension melted away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection you shared.

When you finally pulled away, you were both breathless, your hearts racing.

"I've been wanting to do that for a long time," Jake admitted, his eyes filled with vulnerability.

You smiled with a gentle look in your eyes, your own feelings finally breaking free. "Me too, Jake. Me too.”

After that night, things between you and Jake changed. The rivalry was still there, but it was tempered by the growing affection you felt for each other. You found yourselves stealing moments between classes, sharing secret smiles and whispered conversations, and definitely not heated make out sessions in the corner of the library.

But as much as you wanted to shout your feelings from the rooftops, there was a part of you that was still scared. You had built your identity around being the best, and you didn't know how to let go of that.

One afternoon, as you were walking to class, you saw Jake talking to a girl from his study group. She was laughing at something he said, her hand resting on his arm. Jealousy surged through you, and you turned away, your heart aching.

You guys kiss and the next second he’s flirting with some random girl in your year?

Later that evening, as you were working in the library, Jake found you, his expression concerned.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting down across from you.

You shook your head, trying to hide your emotions. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Jake reached out, taking your hand in his. "Please, talk to me. I can tell something's bothering you, plus you haven’t even spoken to me all day.. I miss you” he says with a pout.

You looked into his eyes, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I saw you with that girl today. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling jealous. And, I don’t know. I guess I feel a bit used…?”

Jake's eyes softened, and he squeezed your hand gently. "Y/N, you have nothing to worry about. She's just a friend. You're the one I care about. I’d never use you, don’t even think that baby.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you looked away, ashamed of your insecurities. "I just... I don't want to lose you."

Jake stood up, pulling you into his arms. "You're not going to lose me, Y/N. I promise." As you cry into his embrace.

As the final exams approached, the pressure became almost unbearable. You and Jake were both pushing yourselves to the limit, and the stress was taking its toll on your relationship, and it was definitely not for the best.

You found yourselves snapping at each other over little things, the tension building until it was almost too much to bear.

One evening, after a particularly heated argument, you found yourself alone in the library, tears streaming down your face. You felt like you were falling apart, and you didn't know how to fix it, like everything around you was drifting away.

Just as you were about to give up, Jake walked in, his expression filled with regret.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said, sitting down next to you. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just so stressed, and I took it out on you.”

You looked at him, your heart aching. "I'm sorry too. I know you're under a lot of pressure, and I should have been more understanding." You say sniffling.

Jake reached out, taking your hand in his. "We both are. But we need to remember that we're in this together. We're stronger together, I love you remember?”

You nodded, wiping away your tears. "You're right. We can't let the pressure tear us apart, and you know I love you too..”

You say leaving a soft kiss on his lips, as he grins and kisses you gently again.

Jake pulled you into a hug, his arms tight around you. "We'll get through this, Y/N. Together."

The day of the final exams arrived, and the atmosphere at Seoul Academy was electric with tension. You and Jake walked into the exam hall together, your hands brushing lightly as you took your seats. You exchanged a look, a silent promise to give it your all, and no matter the outcome you would both be there for each other.

The exam was grueling, each question more challenging than the last. But you could feel Jake's presence beside you, a steadying force that gave you the strength to keep going. As you scribbled down your answers, you thought back to all the late-night study sessions, the whispered confessions, the stolen kisses. You knew that no matter what the outcome, you and Jake would face it together.

When the exam finally ended, the relief was overwhelming. You and Jake met outside the hall, the tension in the air dissolving as you fell into each other's arms.

"It's over," Jake said, his voice filled with disbelief.

You nodded, your heart pounding. "We did it."

Jake smiled, his eyes shining with pride. "No matter what happens, I'm proud of you, Y/N. We've come so far."

You leaned into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. "I'm proud of us."

The day the results were posted, the school was buzzing with anticipation. You and Jake walked to the bulletin board together, your hands tightly clasped. As you approached, you could see a crowd of students gathered around, their expressions a mix of excitement and anxiety.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed through the crowd, scanning the list for your names. When you found them, your heart skipped a beat.

"Y/N... we're tied," Jake said, his voice filled with awe.

You looked at him, a smile breaking across your face. "We're both at the top."

Jake laughed, pulling you into his comforting embrace. "We did it! We really did it!"

As the crowd cheered around you, you felt a sense of triumph and relief. All the hard work, the late nights, the moments of doubt and fear—it had all led to this moment. And you had done it together.

With the final exams behind you and the results in hand, you and Jake began to look toward the future. You both had your sights set on prestigious universities, your dreams finally within reach.

One evening, as you sat together in the school's garden, Jake turned to you, his expression serious. "Y/N, I've been thinking a lot about what comes next. I want us to stay together, no matter where we end up."

You smiled, your heart swelling with love for him. "Me too, Jake. We've come this far together, and I can't imagine my future without you."

Jake took your hand, his eyes filled with determination. "We'll make it work. We can apply to the same schools, support each other through whatever challenges come our way."

You nodded, feeling a sense of certainty and hope. "We've already proven that we can overcome anything, as long as we're together."

Jake leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you, Y/N. And I always will."

Tears filled your eyes as you kissed him back, your heart bursting with emotion. "I love you too, Jake. Forever."

As you held each other, the sun setting behind you, you knew that your journey was just beginning. There would be challenges ahead, but you had each other. And that was all you needed.

epilogue

Years later, as you stood on the stage of your graduation ceremony, you looked out into the crowd and found Jake's eyes. He was standing with his classmates, a proud smile on his face. You had both been accepted to the same university, and your bond had only grown stronger with each passing day over the years.

As you walked across the stage to receive your diploma, you felt a sense of accomplishment and gratitude. You had achieved so much, and you had done it with the person you loved by your side, Jake Sim, the love of your life.

After the ceremony, you and Jake found each other in the crowd, your arms wrapping around each other in a tight embrace.

"We did it," Jake said, his voice filled with emotion. "We made it."

You smiled, tears of joy streaming down your face. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Jake cupped your face in his hands, his eyes shining with love. "And I couldn't have done it without you. We're a team, Y/N. Always."

“Always” you whispered staring at your engagement ring before wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck kissing him, as he wrapped his comforting arms around your waist.

As you kissed, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the love you shared. You knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand.

And that was all you needed.

@luv-sims