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xoxotiamathh · 10 months ago

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Seeing You Naked For The First Time: FS AND NEXT PARTNER

Note: NO MINOR. Hi angels! There's 2 topics here, one for FS and one for your Next Partner, you can choose both Piles one after the other. Paid Readings 15 slots are open right now! Please like and Reblog if you like.

FS 1 -> 2 -> 3 | Next Partner A -> B -> C

Masterlist | Paid Readings • Paid Feedback

FS 1 2 3

Next Partner A B C

Pile 1

They may feel a little insecure about themselves after seeing you naked for the first time. They could feel like they are not attractive enough or pretty enough somehow, and it could sow seeds of insecurity in them as well, there is a vibe about feeling inferior to you here as their very first thought because of how attractive you are. After this, their second thought will be related to wanting to pick you up and spin you around, it switches very fast from inferiority to elation, wanting to do anything for you, put the world at your feet and worship you, this is so CUTE I feel giddy as I channel this I feel just free and light and these may be feelings they will be having too, where they feel closer to you and grounded like "wow this is really happening". They would feel like they want a future with you like they will start setting goals I am seeing gowns and tuxes and celebration, possibly thinking about marriage and how beautiful you would look if and when the both of you get married, I am also getting for some of you this could be after you get married, and that is the first time you see each other fully in the nude. They would start feeling protective over you and also very shaken like they could in general be someone who is very rational and structured and in control of themselves but as soon as they see you all of that is going to melt away, they will not know what to do with themselves like they will not know what to do with their hands or how to touch you, for them, you will feel like something that is so out of their world, like your body will be, I am getting pious? idk pious for them, they will not want to touch you because of the fear that they will end up "ruining" or "dirtying" you in some way like they just do not feel like they deserve to touch you almost.

xoxo

Pile 2

Oh they are going to be in ruins when they see you naked for the first time, like they will be like putty in your hands I also heard salivating and salvation, so both are applicable here. They will feel like what they feared most has come true, the fear being they will never be able to keep their hands off of you and that they do not want to let you out of their sight for even a second. You will awaken this primal need for touch and skinship within them that they may not be used to, or they may not have felt in the past. They could also additionally feel like you are their ruin, you are their end, and you will be the one who will they will dedicate their life to with all the passion in the world. I am also getting a strong dominant energy here, extremely fiery and passionate. They will probably end up on top of you or caging you in their arms as soon as they see you in the nude like they cannot resist themselves here, they could also want to frame you in that pose/way for forever because they would feel like they will never ever be tired of seeing you in that way. They will instantly feel this strong need to show off in front of you lol, it's cute actually, and it's also related to showing off how strong they are so they would probably start like picking you up and rolling around with you, I heard "manhandle" but like it's not gender based they would just want to show off how easily they can carry both yours and their weight, I also heard "gym". Lastly, they would feel like they need to spend on you, maybe buy you sexy lingerie or wanting to take off your clothes themselves.

xoxo

Pile 3

As soon as they see you naked, they will want to court you all over again. Like the only thing going on in their head will be the need to bring you flowers, get on their knees and ask you to be their partner all over again. There are a lot of emotions here, they may find themselves come to tears because of how overwhelmed they may feel. Extra information but they may be the one who would have taken your clothes off, and it would be a very sensual moment where the both of you stare into each other's eyes while they touch you, they may still be clothed in that moment. They will feel a psychic connection with you and a warmth spreading through their abdomen as they see you move. It will make them feel like water, flimsy and unable to do anything because of how mesmerised they will be as they just keep staring at you. They will also feel a sort of pain however, like there is a sense of loss here where they could feel like they will never be able to get the moment back again where they see you naked for the first time which will make them feel a little sad, it's like the thing where you watch a movie, and it is so good that you feel sad that you will never be able to watch it for the first time ever again. They will feel like you are above them, I am getting Knight and Queen energy, they will feel as if they are just there to serve you or help you out, you have healed them just by blessing them with your nude form this is very much in the same lane of like putting you on the pedestal here.

ooo

Next Partner

Pile A

Heavy earth energy here, they will feel like you represent nature or everything natural. When they see you naked for the first time, they will feel a little scared, it will make things very real for them. They may feel like now they will have to take more steps and be better than they were previously, sex for them could be something that is very intimate and spiritual, and because they may be flighty in general, as soon as the clothes come off, so does their mask of flightiness. This moment will make them fully committed to you. They will feel like they need to spoil you with luxury, they will also, and I am also getting that they will instantly feel at home with you and want you to take care of them, they would want to lay their head on your lap and want you to lull you to sleep, you naked form makes them feel safe and warm and comfortable. They would just want to hold you there is not a lot of sexual passion here, where it's like fiery, but it is more grounded, they want to go slow with you and take their time. Furthermore, they will feel like they need to cherish you and savour every moment with you, which is why they will not rush into anything and may seem sluggish initially when they see you naked for the first time. They will feel like they have gotten very lucky to have you and that it was destiny that the two of you even met, maybe it was fated to be, and they may feel this intense connection towards you when they see you for the first time and they may wonder if you were a part of their past life, maybe a soulmate from another time that they have had the fortune to meet again.

xoxo

Pile B

Oh, they could be a little judgemental not in a bad way just sizing you up where you may feel small or scrutinised under their gaze, but they would probably just be admiring you or watching you because they will not know what else to do like they will almost be stunned or not know what to do. Even though you will feel trapped under their gaze, they will feel trapped as well because of their inability to move. They will feel a strong need to release and let go, and by release I mean cumming, they will feel a strong need to fuck. They will also feel like their wish has been fulfilled when they see you naked, not only because they will find you stunning and like everything they have ever wished for, but they could also feel like they have been very fortunate they will feel abundant and prosperous, feeling confident that they can provide for you whatever you want and whatever you need. A soon as they get out of their trance, which may feel like years, but I am getting it will only be a few minutes, also a vision is coming through that you will have to break them out of their trance, they may be sitting on a chair, and you will have to go up to them and peer down at them for them to realise they are mobile again. After this they will feel themselves reach a breaking point, as soon as they are out of that they will become greedy for you wanting to consume each part of you with their eyes of course and also go down on you, they want to take all of you in and will not hesitate to pounce you wanting to be subservient both ways.

xoxo

Pile C

Fireeee firey energy they will feel triumphant, they will feel like they have won you over and that this has been won of the biggest victories of their life that they are someone you are comfortable enough with. That you are allowing them to see you in such a vulnerable and raw state, they will also feel like cheering you on. I heard "I'm your biggest fan" oh they will probably cheer you on and maybe holler while you get naked, it's very playful and flirty not as serious as the other piles. They will feel this need to please you and praise you, they will be very vocal and praise your body and you and will probably ask you to pose for them like "give me a twirl". This is so cute, they will get this feeling of relief and a release of pain by seeing you naked because they may be aware of your hesitancy when it comes to bearing yourself to others in that way, and they would feel proud of you as well. A lot of suppressed memories they may have had from their past relationships could also resurface, where they could end up, unconsciously comparing you to an ex of theirs who may have hurt them deeply. There is strong Knight and service energy here too I also saw someone getting on their knees to propose which could be relevant, anyways with the Knight energy I am feeling they may want you to ride them while they are fully clothed as well, they will get turned on by the contrast of you being fully vulnerable while they do not need to, however this could also be related to them being a little scared of you maybe scrutinising or judging their appearance because that could have been a point of contention in their previous relationships.

#tarot reading #tarot #pick a card #pick a pile reading #pick a pile #pac #pac reading #pick a card reading #tarot cards #tarot community #tarotblr

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highway-143 · 1 month ago

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obsession- nishimura riki

genre: fluff, suggestive, maybe angst (?), university au, s2f2e2l (idk man) answer to this ask

pairing: soccer player!riki x fem!reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01 @shyoko @planetmarlowe (open taglist)

word count: 4.5k

now playing: mastermind- taylor swift

a.n- ty anonie ehehe ilysm ur so sweet

tw: fluffy fluff, shirtless riki (HAHAHA) profanity, a lil kissing but idk

(mostly proofread)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to harm any idol in the story

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you liked riki.

that was an understatement, actually.

you had the biggest crush on him it was possible to have.

and he was completely oblivious. or at least you thought he was.

you've had a crush on him since 11th grade, when he moved into your school. he was smart, funny, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. best soccer player too.

too bad you were too scared to talk to him.

so you thought it was the miracle of miracles that you ended up at the same university. he had gotten a full-ride scholarship to play on their soccer team, the marlins, and you somehow got in with your nervously-written application.

in all fairness, it was probably looking like you followed him. but you didn't, it was just fate.

and fate was what found you here, outside the sports field, staring at the coach's assistant ad.

that was your in.

so you texted the number, fingers crossed and heart hopeful.

you: hey, is this coach wilkins? i'm y/n l/n and i'd like to apply for the assistant job you had posted.

and then two hours later, you get a response.

wilkins: you've come to the right place! meet me in my office this afternoon around 3 and we can talk some more!

you giddily walk to her office all the way across campus from the dorms, iced coffee in hand and a sense of 'finally' coursing through your veins.

"hey! y/n, right?" she says as you open her door. her features are very tight and controlled, a slick back ponytail giving her a more youthful look even though she had to be in her late thirties. "come on in!"

you smile and sit across from her at her desk. she points to your drink.

"americano?"

you nod.

"those are my favorite!"

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "yeah, they're delicious! im actually so addicted to coffee"

"girl, me too." she leans back in her chair, propping her sneaker-clad feet on the desk. "so," she rubs her hands together. "most of the job is just helping out the team, getting waters and moving equipment, you know the drill."

she picks up a soccer ball from where it sat on her desk. "and of course there would be compensation. are you up for the job?"

you grin, liking her more and more. "of course! thank you so much coach!"

"call me sarah. first practice is tomorrow at 5 in the morning. don't be late."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"come on cupcakes, you can run faster!"

needless to say, coach wilkins is a little harsher with her team than she is with you. you watch as the group of 25 boys pant on the field, legs pumping as they run laps from goal to goal. the air is frigid and the sky is dark with the hint of light coming from the east.

you didn't regret being up to see it, even if it meant less sleep than normal.

you turn to sarah. "so how long do they last."

"as long as i tell them they need to." she winks and you laugh. "but it's usually about fifty laps before one of them needs a break."

"damn, that's impressive."

"not when the opposing teams can do sixty. that's what we focus on in morning practice. endurance."

you watch as one of the boys stumbles.

"hey crane! pick up the pace!"

he nods and pushes ahead.

you watch in awe.

"how do you just... get them to listen to you like that?"

she laughs. "i really don't know. but i do know that they know that i care about them and their futures. that might be part of it."

all of the boys push through, the first collapse at lap 57.

"great job, marlins! we're almost there!" she shouts across the field.

you scan through the sea of faces, trying to find the one all of this was for.

riki.

he was in the very back, arms raised above his head and sweat on his forehead. his tank top looked just as wet despite the chilly breeze.

his hair was a tousled mess, wet and on the verge of dripping into his eyes. it was a good look on him.

you pick up the bag of waters and start handing them out, the group of out of breath boys thanking you as soon as their hands touched the cold plastic.

your finger brushes riki's when he reaches for one, and your eyes meet his even in the swarm of sweaty shirts and shouting voices.

he grins, a sweet one that you had come to love, and says "thanks"

you smile, nod, and keep distributing the water.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"wait up!"

you turn around, hearing the voice you knew all too well, and drop the bag of soccer balls in your hands. riki comes to a stop in front of you and smiles.

"you're y/n, right? didn't we go to high school together?"

he sticks out a hand, and you shake it. "yeah, we did. i think we might have been in the same-"

"world economics class, yeah!" he interrupts, but you laugh anyway.

he grabs the bag of balls and walks with you to the storage closet across the field. "so, what did you come here for?"

"i... don't really know. i haven't decided on a major yet, i'm just trying everything."

"that's real. i didn't know you were into soccer though."

you look up at him, giving your carefully thought out excuse.

"yeah, my cousin plays so i know my way around and i saw the ad so... why not make a little extra money, you know?"

he tosses the bag into the shed and looks back at you. he looks tragically beautiful in the sunrise lighting, hair pushed out of his glinting eyes and body shimmering with sweat.

"cool. anyways, i'll see you at practice tonight?"

"yup!"

and you watch him jog off the field and back onto campus, an excitement you hadn't felt since 11th grade filling your body.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it wasn't long before you were hooked on riki.

it all started on the third day of practice. sarah had you bring the team dinner, just sandwiches from the deli down the street.

riki, instead of sitting with his friends, walked over to the bleachers to talk to you.

you were sitting with sarah, but she gave you a part knowing, part amused, and part curious look, and gets up to berate jack wilson for throwing a tomato at grant james.

"hey," he says, sitting next to you and unwrapping his turkey sandwich. "so i was wondering... do you like parties?"

"depends on the party. why?" you ask, leg bouncing and heart racing.

"there's like... this thing? it's on sunday, and it's like, kind of a party, but more like a banquet for all the sports teams."

"yo, that's cool!" you say, trying to sound oblivious.

"yeah, it is. but there's this thing where all the starters for the teams bring.... like, a date? so i was wondering if you'd maybe wanna go? like i know we don't really know each other but it's better than asking my sister and you're the only other girl i know at this school."

you fight a giggle that was brewing in your chest, along with the massive fist-pump and cheer that would inevitably happen later.

"yeah, sounds fun! mind if i give you my number and you can text me the details?"

"sure," he hands you his phone and cracks his knuckles while you tap on it. "thank you again, you're a lifesaver."

you grin and nod, happier than you could ever have been.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

riki texted you saturday night.

riki: hey y/n, its riki. the banquet thing is gonna be at 7, so i'll come to your dorm and pick you up around 6:40 so we can walk there.

riki: sound good?

riki: its formal dress btw

you jump up and down in your room, and your roomate stares at you like you've lost your mind.

you: okay, that's perfect! see you tmrw

riki: 👍

you throw yourself onto your bed and kick your legs into the mattress. your roomate watches you with curiosity.

"are you okay? what happened?"

"just... something i've been waiting years for."

she nods and goes back to reading her book, shaking her head at you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you were on edge all day sunday.

the team had the day off for practice, so you didn't see riki at all.

nope, that's a lie.

you did see him at walmart with his little sister when you were shopping, but you ducked into the next aisle before he noticed you standing by the ice cream.

you didn't want to be awkward around him.

in retrospect, you probably would've been fine if you said hi and started a conversation, but your nerves and the family size bag of goldfish in your cart got the better of you.

you put a lot of work into your appearance that night.

the only times riki had seen you, you were wearing workout shorts or sweats and a ratty hoodie that was comfy but definetly well-loved.

but this time, it was different.

you were in a black silk dress with a low cut and a long slit from ankle to mid thigh. the straps were thin, holding the fabric up just enough so you could show a little cleavage.

a few silver bracelets adorned your wrists, a dainty necklace accentuating your collarbones, and your hair fell in perfect curls around your face.

you pulled on a pair of black heels, making yourself taller.

good, riki was fucking giant.

and when you met him outside your building, purse in hand, you're pretty sure you saw his jaw hit the floor.

he stared at you, and you did a little twirl, blushing when he blatantly looked you up and down.

"holy shit, you look stunning."

you could say the same about him, his black suit crisp over his white shirt that had a few of the buttons undone and a sliver of chest showing that you hadn't seen since senior prom.

"thank you," you say, still standing three feet away.

"we... we should get going."

you follow him through the campus, winding around the many buildings filled with students enjoying their day off.

"you look... really handsome in a suit." you say, half giggling, half embarrassed.

he laughs, a deep sound that has your legs shaking, and smirks at you.

"i haven't worn it in a while, i'm surprised it still fits."

you smile. "is it the same one from prom?"

"yeah, but i'm fairly certian i've grown since then."

"yeah, you definetly gained more muscle."

he grins, hoping you wouldn't see how happy he was that you noticed.

truth be told, riki found you really cute. your personality made him weak in the knees, and your kindness had him wanting to be around you more than he thought he'd want to be.

he was surprised that he'd never met you before.

you walk past a group of little kids playing at a park down the road. one of them, a little girl, was shouting at a boy at the top of the kiddie zipline.

"dont get hurt!" you hear her yell up to him.

you pause, and riki stumbles when he realizes you weren't walking next to him.

"okay, i promise!" he calls down.

she watches in fear as he jumps off the ledge, swinging down to where she waited at the bottom.

"you're so brave!" she said, giving him a hug.

riki recognized the look on the boy's face, it was the same one he had not even two minutes ago.

you coo at the scene.

"aren't they cute? remember being a little kid and being able to show affection like that? god, i miss those days."

you keep walking, and riki follows. "yeah, it was great."

"did you see the way he looked after?" you ask, a sparkle in your eyes when you meet riki's gaze.

"yeah, lovestruck."

you and riki laugh, your heart filled with love and happiness.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

the banquet was nicer than you thought it would be. there were thousands of people, all dressed in formal attire and milling around the room like they owned it.

riki quickly found some of his friends, and introduced you to them.

heeseung, the point gaurd for the basketball team, shook your hand and gave riki a bro hug.

jake, one of his closest friends and defender on the soccer team, gave you an easy smile, and pointed out his date, ashley, who was talking animatedly with a group of girls.

"i don't think she cares about me." he tries to laugh it off, but you see the hurt in his eyes.

riki claps him on the shoulder. "bro, she's not worth it then, you're better than that."

"yeah man," says heeseung, handing him a glass of soda from a waiter. "you're way too good to be chasing any girl that doesn't give a shit about you."

jake chuckles and takes a swig of (what you assumed was) coca cola.

"come on, y/n," heeseung turns to you. "you'd go for a guy like jake, right?"

you stutter, unsure of what to say.

"i mean, yeah! he's handsome and funny, what more could a girl ask for?"

heeseung shakes his head, laughing at riki's face.

"dude, you look like somebody just smacked your mother." says jake.

you turn to find riki composing himself, wiping the jealousy off his face and replacing it with an eye roll.

"okay buddy, time to get you off the caffeine."

jake shakes his head defiantly and takes another sip of his drink. "if you do, there are gonna be two extra balls rolling around on that soccer field."

everyone bursts into laughter, jake's smirk proving his shift in emotions.

the panel of coaches gathers everyone's attention, announcing that dinner would be served soon, and that people should start taking seats.

you, riki, heeseung, and jake all sit together, ashley somewhere across the room with the other girls.

"so riki, are you ready for the first game?" asks heeseung.

"ehh, mostly. kinda nervous but i know i'm gonna play well."

"uh, you definitely are," you say, raising an eyebrow at him. "you're literally the best forward on the team, you're gonna win the game for us."

he smiles at you. "thanks, i hope you're right."

"she's right bro, you're insanely good at soccer." says heeseung, picking at the food on his plate. "like it's scary."

riki laughs, taking a bite of steak.

jake tells you a story about his older brother and a bowl of mac and cheese for the next ten minutes, and you stand up to use the bathroom when he finishes.

jay, one of the players on the football team takes your spot, looking at riki.

"where the fuck did you find her?"

riki laughs, trying his best to not look like a dork in front of one of the most well known kid in the school.

"she's the coach's assistant for our team. i had to ask somebody last minute and she was right there." he lies. "i don't really care about her, she's kind of annoying."

jay smirks. "great, mind if i take a shot at her?"

riki's jaw clenches, furious that jay was treating you like an object to be acquired, but he has a reputation he needs to build.

"nah bro, she's all yours."

jay slides out of your seat, walking back to his table.

heeseung and jake stare at riki like he had gone insane.

"um, what the fuck just happened?"

riki shrugs his shoulders. "i have an impression to make. plus, she would never go for a guy like him. too cocky."

"okay dude, you could do that without insulting her."

riki frowns, eating his asparagus. "okay. but it's not like she's here, she doesn't have to know. and i didn't mean it."

"tell that to the girl that just ran out of the room."

riki's eyes go wide, and he swivels his head to look around, not seeing you anywhere.

"oh fuck," he looks at heeseung. "which way did she go?"

heeseung points to an entrance, and riki immediately stands from his seat.

but his path is blocked by jay.

"just asked her out, and man, you've got a weird one. she started crying when i said you told me i could have her."

riki curses under his breath.

"what was that?" asks jay, raising his eyebrow.

riki fumbles. "uh... nothing, i just... nothing."

"where are you going?"

"uh... bathroom."

riki runs toward the restroom, opening and climbing out the window, racing across the field and sprinting to your dorm in his suit.

good thing he ran for a living.

but it still wasn't enough. by the time he found your building, the doors were just closing behind you.

he stops just in front of the entrance, putting his fist on the glass and panting heavily.

"fuck. ugh."

he pulls out his phone, texting you.

riki: where'd you go?

you: sorry riki, i had an emergency. tell the guys i'm sorry i had to leave early.

riki: oh riki: do you want me to bring anything?

you: no, thanks though.

riki: ok, see you tomorrow morning

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you thought you'd be fine.

you thought you could just drown yourself with ice cream and tears and end up being happier.

but you were wrong.

practice the next morning was hell.

you ignored riki, tried not to acknowledge him when he stood right behind you, tried to distance yourself.

and he just thought you needed some time.

so he didn't try to talk to you. just played harder than ever during their scrimmage, channeling his anger towards jay.

but mostly his anger towards himself.

he couldn't stop beating himself up about it, internally kicking his nuts for being so fucking stupid.

and you just cried.

you felt like you wasted your time, like he was leading you on, like your heart had broken.

because it had.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it was thursday night. you hadn't talked to riki for almost two weeks, and you were starting to get over it.

emphasis on the starting to.

you were putting away all the equipment, wheeling the goals away in preperation for the football game that night and collecting balls that had been forgotten near the bleachers.

and then you realize you aren't alone.

riki is kicking a ball around the field, dribbling it between his feet.

and he's not wearing a shirt.

great. whoop dee diddly doo.

you turn around, not wanting to deal with him, but he sees you before you can hide.

"y/n!" he runs over to you, but you pretend not to hear him.

maybe if you stay very silent....

nope.

"hey." he taps you on the shoulder and you spin around.

he stumbles backwards from the glare you're giving him, but keeps talking anyway.

"are you okay? i feel like you're avoiding me. what's wrong?"

he was trying to be careful, but that just made it worse. how dare he act like nothing happened. like he didn't do anything?

"whats wrong?! i'll tell you what's fucking wrong!" you're practically yelling to cover up the tears in your eyes. "it's the fact that you think i'm annoying! the fact that you brought me to that damn banquet and then fucking traded me like a piece of meat."

riki's eyes show his sadness now, his regret.

"and the fact that you called me 'stunning' and talked with me and acted like you liked me and then just..." your voice cracks and you clear your throat. "just acted like i didn't matter."

he tries to speak, but you don't let him.

"and you wanna know something, nishimura? i fucking liked you. i had for a while. but now i'm not so sure."

you walk away, leaving riki alone and at a loss for words on the field.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you don't talk to riki after that.

and he feels like he lost something important.

it's like how you feel a phantom earbud after listening to music for too long.

or how people who lost limbs sense pain in the appendage they don't have.

he had become so used to your bubbly personality, the way you could smile at anything and see the best in any situation during practice.

but you were gone, and he kept thinking he could just send you a text, fuck, even call you.

but he couldn't.

some people in his situation would be too distraught to keep up on schoolwork and sports. but not riki. his anger at the situation only fueled him during practice.

and when the first game of the season came, he was fucking ready.

coach wilkins was talking in the pre-game huddle.

"okay cupcakes, you've practiced hard and done every damn drill in the book. i know you can win this game today."

the guys nod, but riki is solemn among the nerves.

"ready?" everyone cheers. "go marlins!" she shouts.

the team breaks and runs to the field, riki at the center and facing his equal the opposing team.

you watched from the stands, a speck in the sea of blue, yellow, and silver.

you told yourself you wouldn't go, that you wouldn't think about riki.

but your willpower sucks, so you left your dorm in a marlins tee shirt, shorts, and sunglasses resting on your head even though it was dark and cloudy.

you stared as riki fought the opposing team for the ball, the stands erupting in boos, cheers, and screamed insults when the ref called a foul on him for tripping another player.

the goalie caught the shot, thankfully.

you watched the rest of the game in absolute horror, waiting for someone to finally score a point.

and then, in the last minute of stoppage time-

riki scored.

you were jostled around in the stands, the echo of cheers sounding through the stadium and out into the rest of the world as jake sprinted to riki and pulled him into a huge hug.

the rest of his team crowded around him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him.

the announcer's voice rings through the stadium. "aaaaand riki nishimura scores the final, and winning, point! marlins win the first game and will move up in the championships!"

the cheers are louder now, and you watch as somebody walks up to riki with a mic. his face is projected onto the screen, an elated smile making him look absolutely adorable.

the person with him, a reporter you think, speaks into the mic before pointing it at him. "mr. nishimura, you just won the first game! how does it feel?"

he laughs when jake shakes his shoulder, giving him a dorky grin.

"it feels great, sir!"

"anybody you'd like to thank?"

riki's smile softens, and he starts talking again. his eyes stare into the camera, but it feels like he's looking directly at you.

"yeah, firstly, coach wilkins of course! she was the one who got me here. and then there's somebody else."

the crowd whispers, the noise quieted when riki continues.

"i made a mistake, i hurt somebody that i cared for. and i hope she can forgive me for it. i dedicate my win today to her."

you have to stop the gasp that threatens to rip out of your throat. your heart is beating at a million miles per hour and you feel like all eyes are on you even though nobody could possibly know.

"well... i hope you and the young lady can kiss and make up." the man winks into the camera, making the crowd laugh.

you wait for everyone to leave the stadium until all that's left is you and riki, standing on the field and looking up to where you sat, illuminated by the industrial lights.

"y/n." he calls.

you start walking down to the field, stopping when you get to the wall seperating it from the bleachers.

"i'm so, so sorry for hurting you."

you stand there, just watching him while he walked closer to you.

"i thought that i would look cool in front of jay if i acted like i didn't care, if i let him 'have the girl.' but believe me, i was furious that he was treating you like that, but i thought i wouldn't fit in if i didn't act like them."

he's standing right in front of you now, the barrier the only thing between you.

"but i realized i was wrong. that night, at the banquet, bring around you felt like.... like being in another world. a perfect one. and i want to try again with you, but only if you'll give me a second chance. i know i might not deserve one, but it's up to you."

you watch him carefully, his face a mixture of sadness, guilt, and worry.

"riki, i...." you pause, wiping a tear from your eye. your voice feels like it's about to give out any second, so you whisper.

"i'll give you one."

riki doesn't think he heard you right.

"you're for real?"

you laugh. "for real."

he jumps over the short wall, leaving his ball behind and pulling you into a bug hig.

"can i kiss you?" his words are the quietest you've ever heard as his lips come close to your ear.

you dont respond with words, but with actions.

and when thunder rolled through the sky after a flash of lightning, that's where the rain found you and riki.

lips pressed together, arms thrown around each other, and the rest of his team on the other side of the field recording the whole thing.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

a.n- gang im crying shit.... anyways if you liked this fic, please comment/like/reblog and lmk if you have any ideas for another fic!

masterlist you might also like: kissed- n.rk

#── ブーン #˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ─── 力 #ni ki #nishimura riki #ni ki fluff #ni ki angst #enhypen #enhypen x reader

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revelboo · 4 months ago

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Idk if you know this but wasps fucking. LOVE sugar and honey. Its what the adults usually eat iirc. Thats why Wasps usually go after bee hives (for multiple reasons, the bees become food for the larval wasps, its basically an all you can eat buffet, its also getting rid of competition, ect)

Anyways. All this to say: Waspinator finding the sugar/honey and being like "What. What is??? Smells weird, like antifreeze a bit. is it antifreeze?? (bc fun fact waaaay back in the day Antifreeze actually had a sweet taste that was super dangerous bc ppl would poison others with it so a bittering agent had to be added but like, i dont think that would be a thing for cybertronians so theyre used to mildly sweet antifreeze anyways-) Then he tastes it and is like OH FUCK YEAH LETS GOOOOOOO. But sadly sugar is SUPER BAD for vehicles like cars and stuff. So i imagine poor Waspinator goes on a sugar bender and then comes to like "Wha happun...." and hes aching and feels AWFUL, sprawled out in the barn, covered in christmas lights from someone else's house and SO much dirt and sand from like 6 different states and the human is just like "So. youre awake. Get up, i got the powerwasher. You're COVERED in dead bugs, youre not coming in my house."

Oh, I love this!

Worker Bee Pt 19

Waspinator x Reader

• Inhaling because you don’t have the energy to deal with his misguided ‘dating’ right now or even to try and figure out why he thinks that could ever work, you yank your hand out of his grip and he makes a noise of whining protest. But you can flex your fingers now even though they’re sore. Magic, alien bug spit. “Waspinator, sweetie. I have to report in to my boss and get some loan applications processed or I’m going to get fired.” And he’s just staring at you, head tilting. You’re pretty sure all he heard was ‘Waspinator blah blah blah.’ Right. “If I get fired I can’t afford food or my house.” That he’s pretty much trashed. “I’ll be homeless.” There’s a reaction, antenna back and wings buzzing. “You don’t want that, right?”

• “No,” he growls, wings humming and flaring out slightly. Because no one is taking little friend’s hive away. And you reach up and pat him on the cheek. ‘Great. So you just go watch cartoons, okay? And be quiet,’ you say, nudging him into the other room and he allows it, because you’re touching him voluntarily. Settling himself on the couch, he fidgets with the skinny control stick that makes the screen work like you’d shown him. Can hear you talking to someone else on the little screen he’s forbidden from touching. Why do you sound different talking to them? Venting in annoyance, he fidgets before slipping out of the hive to patrol. Too agitated at the idea of someone daring to try and take your home, his home.

• Somehow you manage to convince your boss that you’ve not been checking in because you’ve been deathly ill. Too ill to go to the doctor. At least, you pray he brought that lie. Catching up on loan applications, it’s a couple of hours before the quiet really registers. Maybe Waspinator is just being good. Watching cartoons. Teeth gritting, you can’t make yourself believe that. He’s got to be quietly destroying something. Or rooting up someone else’s azaleas to drag in your house to go with the other one. Dating. How are you going to explain to him that’s not happening?

• Roaming the property, his wings tuck close to his back against the cold. Heading through the trees surrounding your home, he moves in a widening spiral and vents softly when he leaves the trees and comes across a series of black boxes. That smell sweet. Circling one and toying with it, that scent is somewhat familiar. Sweet and cloying. Transforming he leans his upper body on the box and uses his mandibles to begin chewing through it to get to that delicious smell.

• Startling when you hear a boom, you inhale. Then there are several more in quick succession, you save your work and get up. Know the guy closest to you is a bit trigger happy, but if he’s shooting at skunks again and you have to smell a dead skunk for two weeks straight again, you’re going to- the house is quiet. Swearing, you run to get your boots and coat after realizing Waspinator isn’t in the house. Why would he go over there, though? The old man is coming out of the woods, face ruddy and wearing coveralls and slippers, a shotgun in his hands when you get outside into the snow. “Are you out of your mind?!” You scream at him, going with righteous indignation. And the old man hesitates but doesn’t lower the shotgun. ‘There’s a monster wasp. I saw it. Tore up my bee hives,’ he says, turning in a circle. “You’ve seen some whiskey. You even hear yourself? A monster wasp?” Feel bad as you say, trying to convince him he’s crazy to get him to leave. “Get the hell off my property before I call the cops!” And he’s scowling at you, insisting he saw it as you dig out your phone in threat and he starts moving. How much are bee hives? Because you’re going to owe him. Waiting until you’re sure he’s long gone, you head into the barn.

• Groaning and shivering uncontrollably, his head lifts when the hay he’d burrowed into is dug away from him. And his little friend has come to see him, eyes narrowed. “Waspinator’s frieeeend,” he drawls, feeling absolutely awful and jittery as he snares you with two limbs and drags you into the hay with him, curling his altmode around you, limbs grabbing on as you wriggle, screeching that’s he’s sticky. Very, very sticky. And feeling not quite overenergized, but close. Processor miserably buzzing as he rests his head on top of yours and curls tighter around your warmth.

• “Let go!” He’s back in his awful giant wasp form and he’s curling up like wasps do when they die. Is he dying? And he’s forcing you into a ball, legs drawn up to your chest as his thorax curls up. He’s humming now. Is he singing? Wait. Is he drunk? Arms now pinned to your chest, you can feel whatever he’s absolutely covered in sticking to you, too. Beehives. It’s honey. He’s covered in honey and dead bugs. And you are, too now. Why? Why is he like this? Legs shifting against you as he slurs ‘Waspinator’s little warm friiiiend.’ Wondering how long it’ll take him to sober up right as he makes a funny hitching noise and you’re thrashing to get away when he shudders and does it again. “Don’t you dare throw up honey on me-Waspinator! Don’t you dare!”

#transformers x reader #waspinator x reader #Waspinator

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ducksido · 23 days ago

Note

Can I please request the Housewardens (and Sebek because underated) with a Reader who has crystal hair (similar to Idia's fire hair) and can control crystals? They can control what type of crystal they're using (emerald, diamond, ruby, amythist, ECT) and have to eat a lot so they can use their crystal magic.

(SEBEK 💗💗💗💗)

-Riddle Rosehearts

Rules first, awe second. At first, he tries to lecture you about proper table manners when you pile food onto your plate.

But the moment he sees you summon a rose quartz lance midair and shatter it into a glittering mist with a snap, he shuts up.

“I see… your magic is more demanding than I realized. I apologize for assuming.”

He's both fascinated and a little intimidated by your hair. Crystals constantly shifting, humming with magic—he studies it like a rare potion.

Once he learns the logic behind your magic, he’ll nag you to eat before you faint.

“Here. I prepared a snack box for you—high protein and sugar. Do not skip meals again.”

-Leona Kingscholar

“Tch. So that’s why you eat like a beast.”

He teases, but he watches closely when you form a sapphire wall to block an incoming attack in a training match.

He’s very interested in your defensive capabilities—thinks it could be useful in battle.

Leona’s laidback, but if he catches you pushing yourself too far without eating, he gets snappy.

“Oi. Dumb herbivore. Eat something before you pass out and make me carry you.”

Secretly fascinated by your hair—when sunlight hits it, it scatters light like a prism, and he stares longer than he means to.

-Azul Ashengrotto

Business brain immediately turns on.

“Your unique magic could have tremendous commercial potential—enchanting jewelry? Defense applications? Custom gemstone architecture?”

He’s polite and respectful, but you can tell he’s calculating. That is, until you casually eat three full entrees in one sitting.

“...I may have underestimated your maintenance costs.”

If you let him, he’ll work with you to develop a magical nutrition plan that helps recharge your magic efficiently.

Thinks your crystal hair is elegant and rare—he stares a bit too long, then coughs and adjusts his glasses.

-Kalim Al-Asim

“WHOA! You’re like a walking treasure!”

Immediately obsessed. He thinks your hair is the coolest thing ever and constantly asks what type of crystal you’re using today.

He’s rich, so food? Never a problem. He’ll host full banquets just to make sure you’re well-fed.

“You need to eat? Say no more, friend! JAMIL!!”

You accidentally conjure a ruby chandelier once during a magic accident. He insists on keeping it.

Thinks your magic is beautiful, sparkly, and amazing—and his genuine admiration makes your heart flutter.

-Vil Schoenheit

He notices your hair before anything else. “Your look is… ethereal. Artificial beauty made natural.”

You thought he’d think your ever-shifting crystal hair was gaudy, but he loves the way it refracts light—wants to photograph you in golden hour lighting.

He’s critical of your eating habits if they're chaotic, but he understands the need to eat a lot.

“Fine. If you’re going to eat like that, at least eat right. I’ll have Rook prepare a crystal-magic-friendly diet plan.”

Surprisingly supportive of your magic—he views it as powerful and aesthetically stunning.

Secretly envious of your “natural accessories.”

-Idia Shroud

You both have weird hair. Instant bond.

He’s obsessed with your crystal magic—spends hours researching gemstone conductivity and magical resonance.

“W-wait, you can generate amethyst spikes? That’s so OP… Like, SR-level OP.”

You two have late-night snack binges in silence while gaming. He makes sure you don’t forget to eat during long sessions.

One time, you used diamond to shield his tablet when it fell. He’s been lowkey in love with you ever since.

“You sparkle like a Final Boss with a rare drop rate…”

-Malleus Draconia

Sees your magic as something ancient and sacred—he compares you to the old crystal dragons of fae folklore.

“You wield gemstones as if they were extensions of your will. Curious.”

Watches with open admiration as you grow an emerald forest around Ramshackle just to protect a friend.

Offers you glowing fruit from Briar Valley known to restore mana, trying to help with your magical upkeep.

Loves watching your hair shift colors depending on your crystal focus—it reminds him of the aurora.

He’s not threatened by your power—in fact, he wants to see it at its peak.

-Sebek Zigvolt

SHOOKETH. Loudly.

“YOU HAVE SUCH A STRONG AND SHINING MAGIC! AS EXPECTED OF ONE WHO STANDS BESIDE THE YOUNG MASTER!!”

Thinks your huge appetite is evidence of great magical prowess and respects it. Loudly. Again.

He considers your control over crystals as noble and warrior-like. He’s honored to train beside you.

Compliments your hair awkwardly. “IT—IT SHINES AS GLORIOUSLY AS MALLEUS-SAMA’S MAGNIFICENCE!!”

He’s a bit extra, but his admiration is genuine—and he will defend you to the ends of the Devildom.

#twst #twst x reader #twst wonderland #twst yuu

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technovillain · 2 months ago

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the fact that we never have any real conflict inside milla's brain was always weird to me, and that the only trouble you find is not only easy to miss but hard to locate at all.... this prototype with promo images showing party members getting snatched up by the nightmares is really interesting to me...

i was never really a fan of the nightmares' appearance in the milkman conspiracy. that level already has enough going on and the nightmares' presence is completely unintroduced and poorly explained. i'm thinking about how cool it could be if milla's brain had an actual lesson for the kids beyond levitation about the most important thing she learned from the psychonauts, how to focus your mind and maintain a safe mental space via distancing yourself and controlling recurrences of trauma within the brain space...

the same way that sasha's brain is ultimately just a test for razputin, so is milla's. in my first playthroughs of the game i thought that maybe raz had really messed up sasha's brain a little bit, but then i realized overtime that the whole thing is a totally controlled environment. sure sasha is a closed off person, and very straight-laced, but i don't believe that his brain is constantly *that* empty all the time. he gives razputin direct instruction to shut off all the censor valves, which is the thing that causes the problem. it was all a training thing for raz to learn about control, there's even a hidden game line from sasha about the whole thing being a test. i just think that sasha is a poor communicator. his failure to express afterwards that the whole thing was a test was what failed razputin when he meddled in the mind of hollis forsythe, and why sasha's disappointment in him afterwards feels a little strange (like "you let me mess things up in YOUR head and it was okay, how was i to know?")

can you imagine a version of milla's dance party where the party is bumpin and all the campers are having a good time, but the other guests keep slowly disappearing, getting snatched up by the nightmares?? eventually, the other campers disappear too. later on, the room with the "milla's children" vault is presented to you more in the likes of oleander's side room with the little red curtain, where you are obviously supposed to see it, but *not supposed to see it*, and milla still encourages you not to go in there. when you get to the platform with milla at the end, everyone else is missing. she plays "where could they be?" and you find the nightmare room. you have to fight the nightmares to get the party guests back. you find that you can't *kill* the nightmares, however, and you instead put them behind bars.

ultimately the level could end with a similar level of "brain intrusion" as sasha's. like how sasha was okay with you knowing a little about his past, but probably didn't need to *also* show you what happened when he read his dad's mind and accidentally saw his mother in an inappropriate light. like not everything went smoothly, and he was obviously uncomfortable after the level being all "no, let's never speak of this again" like i imagine he unintentionally overshared and maybe messed with his 'image' a little. this version of milla's level could end with her being happy that she taught the kids about meditation through levitation, keeping the bad thoughts at bay but still acknowledging them as part of you, but she didn't like, need you to see that vault about her children being burned alive. because that would be fucked up to show to the kids. and maybe she got a little in that headspace again during the level and 'broke face' and got a little "protect the children!" about the campers in the face of the nightmares, but settles back down and gets back to the party by the end.

i imagine this is how the level would go if it was written more like pn2 levels are written, where every single level has a clear real-world-applicable mental health topic to cover. i still love milla's dance party, don't get me wrong, but it always felt a little anticlimactic or lacking in story compared to the rest of the brains, and these early promo shots just set me off in wondering if they ever intended on there being a lot more conflict in her mind earlier in development.

#'just food for thought' and its a big wall of text #you know though #i've been stewing on sasha/milla/oleander *normal brain thoughts for a while now #milla vodello #psychonauts #hcs #.txt

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nizhspo · 2 months ago

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genre: haikyuu imagine, smut

pairing: keiji akaashi x fem!reader

warning: he eats pussy #wbk

summary: last semester is stressful.

notes: i love akaashi sm yall i always pictures him as like olive w black curls and the most beautiful out of the hq boys idk..

the apartment is warm.

not hot, just cozy. soft yellow light spilling from the little lamp on the nightstand, quiet hum of the dryer tumbling sheets in the background. your shared room smells like cedarwood and that lavender spray he always uses before bed. your laptop’s still open in the living room, abandoned next to your half-drunk tea and color-coded notes.

you don’t remember how you got to the bed.

one second you were spiraling over grad school applications and your ridiculous to-do list, and the next you were lying on your stomach, head turned sideways into the pillow, while keiji sat behind you with those slow, purposeful hands of his.

he’s been massaging your back for the last ten minutes. hasn’t said a word, just letting his fingers do the talking; pressing deep into your lower spine, rubbing circles up the slope of your shoulders, working tension out of your muscles like it’s personal.

you hum softly. your breath hitches when he shifts his weight, straddling your thighs, palms gliding down your sides like he’s tracing you into memory.

“i hate how tense you get when you’re stressed,” he says, finally. his voice is so quiet. soft. it sinks into your skin like heat.

“can’t help it,” you mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “i just want everything to be perfect.”

his lips brush your shoulder. “you already are.”

you don’t answer. not because you don’t believe him—just because he says it like it’s a fact.

and when keiji speaks like that, you don’t argue.

his hands drift lower. slow. dragging over your hips, the curve of your ass, then back up to rest at your waist.

you shiver.

“can i take care of you?” he asks. voice hushed, gentle. like asking for permission to pray.

you nod into the pillow. slow. wordless.

he turns you over like you’re something precious. pulls your shorts down inch by inch, kissing his way up your thighs so patiently it makes your lungs catch.

“just relax,” he murmurs, eyes dark but soft. “let me.”

he kneels between your legs, nudging them apart with warm, careful hands. he kisses you like he’s saying goodnight to every inch of you.

when his mouth finally meets you—warm, slow, deliberate, you gasp.

his tongue moves in long, slow strokes, barely-there at first. teasing. reverent. like he’s savoring it. like this is for him just as much as it is for you.

he groans softly when you arch your hips, gripping your thighs to keep you steady as he flattens his tongue against your clit, dragging it slow and deep. over and over, never rushing, never messy. it’s controlled. purposeful. the kind of head that only someone who’s been loving you for years knows how to give.

you’re already dripping. already trembling. already threading your fingers through his hair, whispering his name like it’s the only word you remember.

“keiji,” you breathe, high and thin. “oh my god—”

he hums into you. and it’s that, really, that quiet sound of i’ve got you, that sends you over the edge.

it’s not loud. not explosive. it’s soft and shattering. the kind of orgasm that leaves you breathless and boneless, fingers slack in his hair, tears stinging your lashes just from how much you love him.

he doesn’t stop until your thighs twitch. until you’re whimpering, please, too much, too good.

he kisses the inside of your knee before crawling up beside you and pulling you into his chest.

you’re still shaking a little. but you’re smiling.

“thank you,” you whisper.

keiji presses a kiss to your temple. “anytime.”

you fall asleep like that. pressed against him, the weight of everything finally off your shoulders.

your grad school applications can wait.

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu akaashi #haikyuu #akaashi keiji #hq akaashi #akaashi x reader #akaashi x you #akaashi x y/n #akaashi fluff #akaashi smau #akaashi keji x reader

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renubresearch · 2 years ago

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#gcc smart home market #gcc smart home market size #gcc smart home market by application #gcc smart home market by countries #gcc smart home market in uae #gcc smart home market in saudi arabia #lighting control smart home market

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noorpersona · 2 months ago

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Confessions: Osamu

The shop is quiet, bathed in the golden light of the early evening, the kind that settles over wood and stone like a warm sigh. A gentle hush lingers in the space, broken only by the low hum of the refrigerator and the occasional click of the camera shutter. Most of the chairs are stacked, the door flipped to its "CLOSED" sign, and the scent of vinegar and freshly cooked rice still lingers in the air. You're both still inside—Osamu behind the counter in his slightly wrinkled apron, you crouched near the front display trying to get the perfect shot of a tuna nigiri against the fading light.

You’d met in college—him, a culinary student with arms always dusted in flour or sea salt, and you, a sharp-tongued marketing major who could charm a room with a smile and tear apart a branding pitch in under a minute.

You clicked almost immediately. It started with coffee-fueled group projects, late-night ramen runs, and long, quiet study sessions where neither of you said much but never seemed to want to leave. By the time you graduated, you'd both moved back home, and when he opened up his own nigiri shop, it felt natural to call you in to help make it shine.

Osamu’s had a crush on you since your second year. He’s certain of it. The first time you snapped at him for being late and then bought him lunch anyway, he was done for. But he never said anything—not when you were swamped with internship applications, not when he got too busy building his dream from scratch. He just... kept you around. Close. Safe. Until now.

“You’re supposed to be takin’ photos,” he says, voice low and amused as he leans against the counter, watching you from across the room.

“I am,” you say around a mouthful of nigiri, holding your phone up with one hand, chopsticks in the other. “I’m multitasking.”

Osamu lifts a brow. “That your fancy marketing term for stealin’ my hard work?”

You grin, chewing contentedly. “Not stealing. Quality control.”

He huffs a laugh, arms crossed, apron a little wrinkled from the long day. You’ve been at this for hours—prepping a new campaign for the shop’s upcoming anniversary special, trying to capture the perfect lighting, the perfect angle, the perfect bite. The trouble is, the food is too good. And you’re hungry. And Osamu’s expression every time you sneak another piece is too funny not to provoke.

“Y’know,” he says, walking over to the bar where you’ve made a makeshift photography studio of cutting boards and empty plates, “I could’ve just hired a photographer.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have my good side memorized.”

He pauses behind you, and you feel his gaze on the back of your head before he leans slightly over your shoulder to glance at your camera roll.

“Half these are just you eatin’ food,” he mutters.

“Well, you can tell it's good food.”

“Yer a menace.”

You laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls of the quiet shop. As you're reaching for another piece of nigiri, he eyes you from behind the counter.

“Oi,” he says, pointing a chopstick at you, “I said stop eatin’ 'em all.”

You pop the bite into your mouth with a grin. “Oh, c'mon. This is my payment for staying late and taking these photos.”

Osamu raises a brow. “Yeah, well, you can’t get the damn photos if there’s nothin’ left to shoot.”

You reach forward and pluck another piece off the plate just to spite him.

Osamu throws his head back with a groan, but the sound blends into a laugh—low and unfiltered. His arms uncross, one hand resting on the counter’s edge as he leans forward, shaking his head.

His smile cracks wide across his face, tugging at the corners of his eyes, and for a moment, he just watches you with something helplessly fond behind the amusement. His shoulders lift slightly with each breath, the kind of laugh that takes over your whole body before you even realize it. There’s no trace of the usual teasing smirk, no sarcasm—just the kind of joy that escapes when you stop trying to hide it.

“Hey—stop eatin’ all the—ugh, I love you.”

The words slip out in the middle of a breathless laugh, tangled in warmth and amusement, tumbling into the open before either of you can brace for the impact. His voice trails off at the end, like his brain only just caught up with his mouth—and then the moment hangs.

Still.

Your fingers hover above the plate, chopsticks clutched mid-air, and your smile falters as the weight of what he just said sinks in. The warmth still lingering in your chest twists into something deeper—sharper.

Both of you freeze, suspended in golden light and thick, heady silence. His laughter dies like a flame catching wind.

Your hand stops mid-air, halfway to your mouth. “...What did you say?”

Osamu straightens up like he touched a live wire. “Nothin’. I didn’t—I mean, that wasn’t—”

“No no,” you say, slowly lowering the chopsticks, your eyes narrowing with disbelief and something else—something softer. “Did you just say you love me?”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that!” he blurts, already rubbing the back of his neck. “I was just—ya were bein’ you, and I laughed, and it slipped out, but I do, I mean, I didn’t plan to just—shit—”

You cut off his rambling by stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him in a sudden, fierce hug.

Osamu goes completely still for a second, his breath shallow as his arms remain half-curled like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to hold you yet. Then you feel the tension give way as he exhales against your hair, and his arms tighten around you just slightly, enough to pull you flush against his chest.

You bury your face into the soft cotton of his shirt, the scent of soy and rice grounding you. “I love you too, you moron.”

You feel his breath stutter against your temple, and you tilt your head up just enough to see his eyes—soft, stunned, and a little dazed.

"Took you long enough," you add with a teasing smile.

He huffs a laugh, low and disbelieving, the sound rumbling through his chest. His shoulders sag, relief pouring through him in quiet waves. “You’re not just sayin’ that?” he asks, voice rough at the edges, like he still doesn’t fully believe he didn’t just hallucinate this entire thing.

You grin. “Would I lie to the man who makes me free food every week?”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face before ruffling the back of your hair affectionately. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, but his tone is nothing but fond.

He’s smiling, really smiling, like the kind of smile that lives in the corners of his mouth even after it fades, the kind you remember for days. His hand finds yours without hesitation, fingers curling through yours like he’s done it a thousand times in his head already. You stay like that for a moment—standing in the golden hush of the closed shop, surrounded by the scent of rice and vinegar and the lingering echo of laughter.

“You still owe me promotional photos,” he murmurs against your lips.

You pull back just enough to smile. “Only if I get to eat the props after.”

“Fine. But I’m writin’ you off as an expense.”

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enflixx · 3 months ago

Text

Letters from Stanford - Jake Sim

summary: You and Jake always planned to go to college together at University of Melbourne. When acceptance letters arrive, joy fills the air… until a secret Stanford letter changes everything. As summer passes, love is tested, truths unravel, and promises are made with trembling hands. When the day finally comes to say goodbye, distance becomes your new reality, but love doesn’t leave so easily.

genre: angst, just a little fluff

warnings: kisses throughout the fic

word count: 3,323

You were sitting cross-legged at the bottom of Jake’s bedroom floor, controllers in hand, and eyes locked on the TV screen. The two of you had been building a massive lake house in Minecraft for the past hour, trying to distract yourselves from the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Jake’s room was dimly lit, except for the glow of the screen and the fairy lights hanging lazily above his bed. His knee was bouncing. He hadn't stopped fidgeting for the past ten minutes.

“Okay,” he said suddenly, glancing at the clock. 6:59 PM. “It’s almost time.”

You dropped your controller, heart thudding. “Don’t say that.”

Jake scrambled off the floor and flopped onto the bed, patting the space beside him. “Come on. We said we’d do this together.”

You joined him, your shoulder brushing his as you both grabbed your phones. The moment the clock struck 7:00 PM, both your devices buzzed at once.

Jake sucked in a breath. “Ready?”

You nodded, your fingers trembling as you hovered over the “View Decision” button.

“Three,” he said.

“Two,” you whispered.

“One.”

You both tapped your screens.

University of Melbourne: Accepted.

Jake let out a choked sound next to you. “I got in—wait—you too?”

You turned your screen toward him with a breathless laugh. “I got in! OMG I got in!”

Jake grabbed your free hand and pulled you into the tightest hug, both of you nearly falling back against the pillows in a tangle of limbs and joy.

“We did it!” he shouted. “OMG, we actually did it!”

You were both laughing, spinning in your own little whirlwind of excitement. He kissed your cheek, your nose, your forehead, completely overflowing with joy.

“We’re going to Melbourne!” he grinned, forehead pressed to yours. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, barely believing it yourself.

Then Jake hopped off the bed, still grinning. “Hold that thought. I need to pee or I’m gonna explode.”

You laughed and nodded, watching him disappear into the hallway.

The door clicked shut.

You turned back to your phone, thumb hovering over the unopened Stanford email sitting quietly beneath the one from Melbourne.

You hesitated. Then tapped it.

Your heart thudded as you clicked “View Decision.”

Congratulations…

The word blurred for a second as your vision went watery. You blinked, staring at the screen in disbelief.

Stanford.

You hadn’t thought you’d get in. You’d applied on a whim, just to see.

And now here it was, real and glowing in front of you. A future you’d never seriously planned for now opened like a door you hadn’t realized was unlocked.

Your eyes welled with tears. Not sad ones, not exactly. Just... big ones. The kind that came when the world shifted a little under your feet.

Suddenly you heard footsteps coming down the hall.

You snapped out of it and quickly swiped the tab closed, locking your phone and tossing it aside just as Jake returned.

“Miss me?” he joked, flopping back down beside you.

You forced a smile, chest still tight. “Always.”

He leaned into you, grabbing your hand again. “So, what do we do first? Start looking at apartments? I already bookmarked this tiny studio near campus with the biggest kitchen ever .”

You laughed, letting him talk about your shared future, your heart splitting in two. One part still with him. The other already halfway across the world, in California.

The summer passed in a blur of travel plans, shopping lists, visa applications. Jake was so excited, always talking about your apartment, your future, the way you’d decorate with little succulents and string lights. You smiled, nodded, made Pinterest boards with him.

But at night, you stared at the Stanford portal, wondering what it meant to choose something he wasn’t part of.

One warm July afternoon, Jake surprised you with dinner reservations at a cozy Australian-themed diner “to get a real taste of Aussie life,” he’d said with a grin that made your heart flip.

The diner smelled like woodsmoke and grilled meat, a haze of barbecue spice hanging in the air as the late July sun filtered through the tall windows. You and Jake sat across from each other in a vinyl booth, the table between you cluttered with half-unwrapped sliders, charred corn, and paper baskets of fries dusted with pink sea salt. Somewhere nearby, a child was laughing over a spilled milkshake, and the sizzle of meat on the open grill played like background music to a summer evening that felt too big to hold in your chest.

Jake reached for a fry, eyes glowing with quiet excitement. “Okay, so… don’t kill me,” he said, trying and failing not to grin. “I did a thing.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Please tell me you didn’t try to book our flights without me again.”

“No,” he laughed. “Um.. worse.”

He slid his phone across the table. The screen was lit up with a listing, the apartment. Your apartment. The one you’d found during a late-night spiral of Pinterest boards and real estate blogs. The one with exposed brick and tall windows and a kitchen that made your breath catch the first time you saw it. Big, sunlit, clean counters, even a little breakfast island with hanging lights overhead.

“You’re kidding,” you whispered, leaning in.

“I made an offer,” he said. “And… they accepted. If we want it, it’s ours.”

You blinked at the screen. The pictures hadn’t changed, but somehow they felt sharper now, more real. The wide kitchen, all open shelving and clean lines, looked like the kind of place people filmed romantic comedies in. You could see the two of you in it, Jake cooking in the mornings in his ridiculous pajama pants, you dancing barefoot to some awful playlist while coffee brewed.

You looked up at him. “Jake…”

“I know I should’ve asked,” he said quickly. “I just… I saw it again and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That kitchen, the big window in the bedroom, the campus just down the street. It felt like us, you know?”

You sat back slowly, heart full and aching all at once.

“I just thought it could be home,” he added, voice softer now. “Our first perfect one.”

You didn’t speak right away.

You stared at the image. The bright white cabinets. The tall pantry. The way the light poured through the glass every morning.

You wanted it.

God, you wanted it so so much.

But not as much as you wanted to stop time. Not as much as you wanted to silence that quiet voice that had been growing louder since Stanford sent that email.

“Maybe…” you began, choosing your words carefully, gently. “Maybe we should look a bit more. Just to be sure. It’s a big decision.”

Jake blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

He nodded quickly, lips pressing together in a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re right. No need to rush.”

You reached for your drink to avoid the way his gaze searched your face. “Exactly. We’ve got time.”

He leaned back, tried to laugh. “Honestly, we might even find something with a bigger balcony. Or even a bathtub. Who knows?”

You nodded, the fry in your hand going cold.

The moment passed, at least on the surface. He picked up his burger again, and you made a joke about fairy bread being the pinnacle of Australian cuisine. The two of you slipped back into the rhythm of laughing, dreaming, talking about color schemes and who would be in charge of dishes. But beneath it all, the dream had shifted. The apartment was perfect. But for the first time, you weren’t sure if perfect was enough.

It was late afternoon, the golden sun filtering through the window and casting long shadows across your bedroom. Boxes were everywhere, half-packed and labeled in your handwriting. A quiet playlist hummed in the background while the two of you worked side by side, sorting through his books, folding clothes, and deciding what made the cut for Melbourne.

You were kneeling beside the desk, packing paperbacks into a box labeled DO NOT BEND when Jake, searching for packing tape, reached over and grabbed a slim red folder tucked behind a lamp.

“Hey, what’s this?” he asked casually, flipping it open before you could stop him. His voice shifted mid-sentence, growing still. “Stanford?”

Your hands froze around a copy of The Secret of Us. The air thinned.

“Jake—”

“You applied to Stanford?” he asked again, slower this time, like he was trying to make sense of the words.

You sat back on your heels, throat dry. “I... yeah, i did.”

He looked at the folder again, then at you. “You got in?”

You nodded, barely.

A beat passed. Jake blinked, his jaw tightening, then loosening like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. He let out a short breath and took a small step back, the folder hanging limply in his hand. “When?”

You couldn’t look at him. “Same day as Melbourne.”

Silence. The kind that buzzes in your ears and makes your heart ache.

“And you didn’t tell me?” His voice was quieter now. Not angry, just... hurt. In total disbelief.

“I didn’t know how,” you whispered, fidgetting at the worn edges of the carpet. “I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

“Ruin what?” he said, then laughed short and humorless. “Us?”

You looked up. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think I’d just get up and leave.”

“But you didn’t even give me the chance to be proud of you,” he admitted. “You didn’t even let me in at all.”

You stood slowly, heart racing, words stuck in your throat. “I wasn’t going to go,” you said. “I swear, Jake. We planned this, and I meant it. I just... I needed time to figure it out.”

Jake shook his head, eyes scanning the floor around you like he was trying to ground himself. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” you whispered. “I was so scared.”

He looked at you then, really looked past the guilt, past the secrets. There was hurt in his eyes, yes, but something softer, too. A flicker of understanding.

“I wish you trusted me with this,” he said, voice low. “But... I get why you didn’t.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

He nodded, slowly. “You should go.”

Your heart cracked. “What?”

“I mean it,” he said, finally smiling, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You got into Stanford. That’s huge. I’d never want to hold you back.”

“But…Jake—”

“I want you to go,” he repeated, gently this time. “Even if it’s the last thing I want.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until Jake filled the space between you in two steps and pulled you into his chest like he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

You clutched the front of his shirt, burying your face into the curve of his neck. “I didn’t want to lose you,” you choked out.

“You’re not,” he whispered, but his voice cracked. “God, you’re not.”

But it felt like you both were anyway.

His arms were wrapped around you, so tight it almost hurt, and still it didn’t feel close enough. You felt his chest hitch beneath your palms, his breath stuttering as silent tears spilled down his cheeks and into your hair.

“I hate this,” he said, his voice muffled in your shoulder. “I hate that I’m saying this.”

You pulled back just enough to see his face, his eyes red-rimmed and shining. “Then don’t. Tell me to stay. Tell me that we deserve that apartment together”

He stared at you, lips parted, like he wanted to. Like the words were right there on his tongue. But instead, he shook his head slowly, heartbreak carved into every line of his face. “I can’t. I love you too much to ask you to give up on something like this.”

A sob escaped before you could stop it. “I don’t want to go without you.”

Jake cupped your face in his hands, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. “You won’t be without me,” he whispered. “I’ll be there in every facetime call. Every late-night text. Every time you drink coffee and think it’s crap without me there to make it right.”

You laughed through the tears, and then he kissed you. Slow, aching, like a promise and a goodbye all at once. You kissed him back with everything you couldn’t say, everything you weren’t ready to lose.

When you finally broke apart, both of you breathless and trembling, he leaned his forehead against yours.

“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured. “Even if it’s hard. Even if it hurts. We’ll find our way back.”

You nodded, eyes closed. “You and me, right?”

His arms tightened around you, like he could still protect this fragile version of the future. “Always.”

He didn’t speak to you for two days.

No texts. No calls. No shared playlists or silly memes. Just a hollow silence that made your heart pound every time your phone lit up, just to close it every time it wasn’t him.

Then, just after sunset on the second day, your phone buzzed.

Ring Doorbell: Someone is at your front door.

You opened the app instinctively, and there he was, Jake, standing on your porch in a wrinkled hoodie and basketball shorts, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. His eyes were bloodshot red. Not just tired, but swollen, rimmed with tears, and haunted.

Your heart seized.

You rushed downstairs and opened the door.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he should be here. Like maybe this was a mistake. Then his face crumpled.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, and his voice cracked like glass.

You stepped forward without thinking, wrapping your arms around him before the rest of his words could fall apart.

“Jake…”

He held onto you like he was drowning. “I tried to be okay. I really did. I thought maybe I could just… move on, pretend we’re still going together. But I can’t. I’m so fucking proud of you, but I don’t know how to be happy when it feels like I’m losing you.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him. “Then don’t let me go,” you whispered. “Tell me to stay. I will.”

He blinked at you, tears spilling silently over his cheeks. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” you said, chest aching. “I’ll stay. Melbourne was always the plan. We were the plan.”

Jake shook his head. “No,” he said, voice soft but firm. “You have to go. Please go.”

“Jake—”

“No,” he interrupted, brushing the hair gently from your face. “You got into Stanford. You earned that. You don’t give up a life-changing opportunity because some dumb boy can’t keep it together for a few months.”

“You’re not some dumb boy,” you whispered.

He smiled faintly, but his eyes were still sad. “And you’re not some girl who settles for a smaller school for someone else. You’ve always been more than that. You have to go.”

You stood there for a long moment, forehead pressed to his, your tears falling freely now too.

Eventually, you stepped back and took his hand. “Come inside?”

He nodded, and you led him through the door, into the quiet warmth of your house.

You sat together on the couch, knees pulled up, wrapped in an old shared blanket that smelled like his cologne and dryer sheets. He rested his head on your shoulder, and you stroked your fingers through his hair like you always did when he couldn’t sleep.

“I hate that we have to do this,” he mumbled. “The distance.”

“I know,” you said.

“But we’ll make it work, right?” he asked, more like a plea than a promise.

“We’ll try,” you whispered. “We’ll call every night. We’ll visit. We’ll find ways to stay close, even when we’re far.”

His arms tightened around you. “What if it’s not enough?”

“Then we try harder,” you replied, kissing the top of his head. “Or we wait. Or we fall apart and find our way back. But I’m not giving up on us, Jake. Not now.”

Neither of you had all the answers. Maybe you never would. But in that quiet moment on the couch, your hearts cracked but still beating in sync, you held each other like maybe, just maybe, love could stretch across the oceans and time zones.

Like maybe, it would be enough.

The airport was too quiet for what your heart was doing.

You stood with Jake in the check-in line, the weight of your suitcase nothing compared to the weight pressing on your chest. He held your hand like it was the last lifeline he had, like if he let go, he’d lose you completely.

Neither of you spoke much. There wasn’t anything left to say that hadn’t already been whispered between your tangled sheets, or mumbled on long drives with the windows down, or even scribbled into notes hidden in each other’s bags.

But that didn’t stop the tears.

Yours came in slow, steady streams down your cheeks. His were silent, but his lips trembled every time you squeezed his hand tighter. People passed around you, families saying goodbyes, kids running in circles, airport staff calling for final check-ins, but it all felt so far away. Like the world was moving on and you were frozen in this endless moment.

“We still have time,” he murmured, though the line inched forward, traitorous.

“Barely.”

You rested your head on his shoulder. His hoodie smelled like your house, like him, like safety.

“I hate this,” you whispered.

“I know.”

He kissed your temple. “But I’m proud of you. So proud. I need you to remember that.”

You nodded, biting your lip so hard it almost bled.

When you reached the counter, your hands shook as you handed over your passport. Jake stood beside you the whole time, his fingers trailing down your arm like he was memorizing every inch. The agent smiled politely, completely unaware of the heartbreak unfolding across the glossy countertop.

As you stepped away, the intercom crackled to life.

“Final boarding call for Flight 127 to San Francisco. All remaining passengers, please proceed to Gate 7.”

Your body turned toward the gate, but your heart stayed behind.

Jake pulled you into one last hug, full and trembling. You felt his tears finally fall, warm against your neck.

“This isn’t goodbye,” you whispered, but it cracked as you said it.

“It feels like one,” he choked out.

“I’ll come back in December. I pinky promise.”

“I’ll wait,” he said, holding you like he’d never get to again. “I’ll wait for however long it takes.”

You pulled back just enough to kiss him once, twice, and again like you could kiss the goodbye out of him. He smiled, for your sake, even though his lips were shaking.

“Go,” he said softly, eyes red. “Before I lose my mind.”

You took one step back. Then another. You didn’t want to look away, but you knew if you didn’t go now, you never would.

So you turned.

And you walked.

And you didn’t look back.

But Jake did.

He watched you until the very last second, until you were out of sight, until the boarding gate swallowed you whole.

And then he broke.

His body crumpled into a seat by the window, hands over his face as sobs tore out of him, raw and relentless. Strangers passed by, but none of them saw him. None of them knew the girl he loved just left for another continent, or how he’d told her to chase her dreams even if it meant tearing himself apart.

He’d been brave for you.

But now, all alone in that airport, he cried like he’d never stop.

Because he loved you that much.

#enflixx #enhypen #enha #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen fluff

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cillians-sweetheart · 4 months ago

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Hihihi could you please Write for Jim from tds?

Ofc he’s so daddy 😋

Maid For Pleasure - Jim TDS

Jim Murphy(38) x Cleaner!Reader(18)

Plot: Y/N becomes desperate for a job while in school and comes across a house cleaning gig that ends up suiting her, and her employers needs quite well.

Content: age-gap, smut, dubcon, pervy Jim, dirty talk (m), dominant Jim, slight degradation, spanking, adultery (m), cvm trapping, porno type plot

(Because we don't know Jim's last name in The Delinquent Season, we're just gonna say his last name is Murphy in this scenario.)

Being a broke, College student -freshly 18- I was in desperate need of a simple job I could do after school to be able to afford my basic needs. I would search every day at the part-time jobs listed in my area, but all required too many hours that I didn’t have. It wasn’t just my school hours it cut into, but studying hours I urgently needed to pass.

I was already doing well in school because most of my time was spent studying and spending extra hours in class unlike everyone else who had jobs to attend to. I had a choice, either get some money so I can feed myself, or be the greatest student in all my classes. That second choice was for sure tempting but probably not the right choice in the end. I’m not someone who’s overly comfortable with asking for money. I’d rather starve.

After several, continuous hours scrolling through the internet in my dorm room bed, my eyes catch a listing for a “Part-time house cleaning - paying $20/hour.” It was perfect. Easy, and well paying. I instantly clicked the link and read further. “Available during mornings and noon between 9:00am - 1:00pm.” I could easily go during my lunch break and free period around 11am. So I clicked apply.

It wasn’t until the next morning I had seen an email from Jim Murphy accepting my application. I was pleased to see I could start today at 10am. Quickly I got up and out of bed, got ready in a comfy, but cool outfit that I wouldn’t mind dirtying while slaving my way through this man’s house. I didn’t doll up fully, but made myself presentable enough to hopefully keep this job until I can find something more ideal.

I waited around my dorm until the time came for me to leave. When I did I was emailed an address on one of the middle class streets. Definitely someone who could afford a maid.

I pulled up to the house with my hair pulled back in a messy bun, my makeup light and my clothes tight but comfortable. After taking a few -several- deep breaths I got out and knocked on the front door. A slim man with a kind face opened the door to me and introduced himself as, “Jim.”

“Y/N.” I grinned in return to him. His eyes slowly gazed from up and down my face and figure. As if he wasn’t expecting his cleaner to be someone like me.

“Please come in Y/N. Apologies for the clutter. Children.” He chuckled, with an almost flirtatious grin.

“No worries,” I smiled. “This is my job.”

Jim went back to continue his work in the kitchen on his laptop, quickly typing and occasionally sipping tea for a mug. His dark brown glasses laid comfortably on the bridge of his small nose, and his legs slightly spread beneath the table.

I purposely cleaned every other room first before I made my way to the kitchen because if I’m being honest I didn’t expect I’d feel almost flustered around him. And because of that I avoided him to not embarrass myself. I knew he was married and I’d respect that, but I couldn’t help finding him handsome. He was and I couldn't control that. I’d manipulate myself into believing my attraction towards him was purely his fault to hide from the shame.

Finally the time came where I had absolutely nothing else to do in any other room in the house. Not even a speck of fuzz on the carpet. I kept my head down coming into the kitchen, reframing from any and all eye contact. I wiped the counters, vacuumed the floor, dusted and lastly scrubbed every surface from the floor to the cabinets.

I felt while on my knees scrubbing around the edges of the furniture, eyes on me. But each time I’d peer between my legs, Jims eyes were glued to his computer screen. I made out that I was probably just paranoid, and jittery with that need for affection.

But I wasn’t. Really every time I’d refocus myself to cleaning, Jim’s eye would glance from the screen to between my legs. In his mind, he imagined the feeling of my plump ass in his hands and the feeling of it rubbing against his lap. The thought alone made him painfully hard. His aching bulge pressed tightly against his jeans. And of course, my skin tight leggings fit perfectly around the shape of my pussy. The sight was so clear and perfect.

Being on my hands and knees scrubbing at the floor, Jim couldn’t look away as my hips, and ass moved in sync with the motion of my arm. Each scrub they jiggled and began providing an easier view as I bent my chest lower, and lower to the tile floor.

Jim grabbed at his bulge in his pants and had stopped worrying if I caught him staring. He was far too deep into the fantasy of ruining my little body to care. He swore under his breath and his hand tightened around his pulsing cock under his jeans. While I on the other hand hadn’t had a clue what was going on behind me.

Suddenly Jim stood from his chair and came up behind me. “I think you missed a spot… on the counter.” He stated with a tone I couldn’t identify.

“Sorry sir,” I quickly stood to my feet, still not looking him in the eye. “I’ll clean it.” I quickly, with my rag, walked to the granite countertop and began to scrub the surface. I could hear, and feel Jim slowly moving closer to me from behind.

“That’s good…” He purred, coming close behind me, his hips and boner rubbing against my butt. “Just like that.”

I froze. Jim’s hands laid onto my hips and his hard cock pressed against my pussy through my leggings.

“Don’t stop, just pretend I’m not here love” he leaned down with his hot breath on my neck. I continued to slowly stroke the counter with my damp rag. I felt panicked, and uneasy. But the feeling of him rubbing against my clit made me unbelievably wet.

“Mr Murphy…?” I whimpered, gripping the counter.

“Mhm?”

“What are you doing?” I asked with my voice shaky and unsure.

“You wouldn’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve touched such a young, beautiful body,” he whispered to me. “I need this. I need to touch you.” Completely avoiding my question.

My skin felt hot and my cheeks went red at his words. And suddenly his big rough hands tugged at my leggings, pulling them down my plump ass. I wanted to say something but all that came out was a muffled whine.

Jim quickly undid his belt from behind me. The sound made my whole body freeze in place.

“You want this baby?” His voice was low and lustful as he stroked his now bare cock against my clothed clit.

I squirmed in return to him, “mhm..” I moaned.

“Yeah?” His hand gripped firmly to my plushy hip. “Is that why you wanted this job? To be fucked like a little maid?”

I was speechless. By his sudden dominance and the power he held on me, and the way I’d do whatever he told me scared me.

Jim, with one easy movement, ripped my little pink panties down my legs. I felt the cool breezy on my wet bare skin, and then his hot tip brushing between my slits. From behind me I could hear him groan at the sight. “Such a pretty little pussy,” He squeezed my soft thighs and spread them to look closely at my needy hole. “Good girl…”

Without a warning Jim began to push his throbbing cock into me. The deeper he went, the more he groaned, “mm, oh you’re so tight…” His hips pressed against my butt.

I could feel his thick cock stretching my wet walls, and hitting deep in my cervix. I gripped the countertop and my eyes rolled up while he began to slowly thrust himself into me. “Oh that’s good…” He moaned and his speed, and force grew pleasurably hard. My little body being fucked senselessly against his countertop, legs shaking and moaning far too loudly for my liking. I tried to bite my lip holding my sounds back, but each time I did Jim would slap my ass forcing me to whimper and moan at his command.

The sweet sound of moans, and wet skin slapping filled the room. My pleasure made me almost scream as he forcefully beat me with his cock. And the way he’d slap my ass made my pussy drip and tighten around him.

“Fuck…” He squeezed my ass pounding me forcefully, “You feel so much better than my wife… god you're just so sexy.” He groaned with an assertive tone. “You like that? You want my cock?”

“Mhm” I moaned with my eyes rolling into my head. I felt so close with the force of him hitting every good spot. I squeezed against him trying to hold back, but the pulsing and wetness caught his attention.

“Cum for me.” He demanded and landed a hard slap on my ass. “Cum on my cock.”

With the way his voice sounded, my legs shook and my pussy fluttered and pulsed against his cock. My sweet fluids dripped down my leg and soaked his length. I moaned so loudly he finally held his hand over my mouth muffling my orgasm.

I stood there barely able to keep myself up while he finished beating my insides. I couldn’t stay quiet as I continuously came until he pulled out. And when he did he stroked his cock eagerly, his cum spitting all over my clit and aching hole. It was hot, and thick. And before I could do anything he yanked my panties up, trapping his hot cum on my pussy.

I felt sticky and sensitive, and Jim quickly lifted his pants. He grabbed me and pulled my back against his chest. “You’re such a good girl,” he purred. “I want you back here next week. And I’ll show you something that’ll need cleaning.”

I left his house and he paid me $200 cash. I felt like a prostitute in a way, but also real happy that I could finally take myself out to dinner and have something to look back to when I’d get into bed tonight.

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian fanfic #cillian fic #cillian murphy fanfiction #Jim tds #Jim x reader #the delinquent season #jim the delinquent season

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