#probably filled with spelling errors

[taviokapudding]

Simon's joke of "soup of theseus" is so damn good & way more layered than most people think.

Okay so first- what is the ship of Theseus?

So amongst his many misadventures and legends the ship of theseus was a ship the Athenians believed connected them to the divine living person that was Theseus. The thing is, he was maybe Poseidon's adopted kid/the King if Athen's son and probably not real (or at least if he did his misadventures were super exaggerated as royals = divity stories are) but the fate the Athenians had for him & Apollo (the 6 labors is a fun legend that explains their connection and what the original ship may have been) was so intense, they would constantly give maintence as a form of religious worship to said ship on the island of Delos (where Apollo's most sacred sancutary is) every year it would dock to pay respects.

Btw we don't need to know the specifics of Theseus but he did infamously slay a minotar and Finn did have a good exchange with the Mannish Man to get the enchiridion aka the book that sets Betty & Simon on the paths they are on now so that's neat af

So if you've ever heard about the ship of Theseus being paradox- it comes from the critique that's always existed about that ship's maintenance & religious practices tldr if you are constantly replacing each rotted and borken part of a ship, is it still the same ship?

The soup is a paradox like the ship

That paradox exists in many many scifi and adventure stories like the Nier series & Ghost in the Shell but in this instance we got to first look at the joke literally. Farm world's Finn's wife's soup is the same as the ship. The original soup farm world HW made no longer exists on a technicality, but the way Finn and his kids continue to add on and consume the soup is exactly like the Athenians. It's about the intent of carrying on the memory and keeping the soup around to honor the dead rather than the soup's original recipe {which also is incredibly sad & imples that farmworld Finn is both coping and never learned the original soup recipe}. It's a beautiful way to honor their dead mom/wife and it makes you wonder if that Finn did die if his kids will continue the practice.

But the paradox goes beyond the soup & into our reality

A lot of people have noticed that Fionna's last name is Campbell and Campbells is a real soup brand that would've been around before the great mushroom war. When Marceline gets sick as a kid, Simon goes great lenghts to get her chicken soup- that only worked out because the primordial version of the Mother Gum assisting {which is extreme Bubbeline foreshadowing}. And in that scene the can low key is a campbell design. But what if I told you there's more?

In Cheers, the tv show Simon is seen constantly watching and referencing throughout the original run of Adventure Time & in the recent Fionna and Cake had Carla Tortelli work at a Canpbell's Factory.

Neat references aside the soup ends the moment the main trio hit the remote button and I have a BA in psychology & interest in childrens media and entertainment that I want to milk for once. Metaphorical intention is beyond relevant episode specifics but actually the foundation of Fionna and Cake when it comes to the paradox.

Simon making the soup of Theseus joke is the main problem Fionna and Cake has to address

If Simon can summon his & Prismo's au from his head without proper MMS (Magic, Madness, and Sadness) where does Simon the human start and Ice King end?

As viewers who grew up alongside the series, the majority of 25+ watchers are finding Simon, older Finn, and Fionna painfully relatable because good fucking god we are all traumatized because of the ongoing pandemic.

If you want to focus on the main topic you can skip this part. But if you want to get very serious for a minute, please stay. The majority of people wont to accept what I just said about the pandemic being ongoing because global governments pretending the pandemic is over, the rise of depression and escapism in real time at a social level at a global level but especially in the US where the series is being made, and the daily interactions we have with most people refusing to mask up {with a violent reaction} when there still isn't a cure for COVID has created the perfect enviroment for most people to not accept change or crave extreme change. Fionna and Cake tackles these 2 very common forms of how depression tends to manifest when it's not fully manic to be displayed through Simon (self isolation from poor coping due to loss, detachment from society, dwelling on the past to the point it effects social interactions, extreme forms of religious practice, etc.) and Fionna/Finn (pretending everything is fine, avoidance, going through the bare minimum motions to survive, escapsim and dream of grandure, not caring about sel preservation, no/lack of self control with sweets/coffee, etc.). And I've noted there's a subset of AT viewers who don't relate or find the depections too real to the point they're upset the show's tone isn't as light hearted as AT. The thing is when a global disabling event happens, unless you were under 10 when it happened and even then it's a 50/50 because you probably did lose or know somebody who did die these last several years, you will have some kind of trauma response to it whether you like it or not. Hell, some of you unknowlingly have a gap in your memory about 2020 specifically due to inconsistent sleep schedules that have nothing to do with the shrinking of the brain mass COVID causes that we all call "brain fog" and now that I pointed it out you're probably going to go stare at a wall for 5 mins {sorry btw, doubly if you have long COVID and this is how you found out what brain fog partially is}. As someone who's been dealing with depression since I was a child, it's okay to be not okay given the last several years and doubly if you've been conscious long enough to see the US freefall into fascism too {which I hope encourages those who weren't aware that's been happening to go look into that because we can't get into it right now}. Because I unfortunately know what manic depression can look like - if you find yourself relating to Simon a little too much during ep 3, please talk to somebody who is licensed and trained to do so {not me, I haven't done suicide prevention work since 2017 and am not licensed- I genuienly won't be enough of a resource} okay? Don't throw away yourself nor change yourself for others only. You need to work to accept the past, move on to live in the present, and change yourself for yourself. It won't be easy and resources are out there to not do it alone, alright?

Becuase of how paradoxial and fluid mental health (espeically undiagnosed depression) can be and how AT has it's own version with MMS, could Simon have unconscious MMS still because of Betty's with without a battery but can't tap into it because of his mental state? And could Ice King as we once knew him even be considered a proper person Simon could return too?

The original wish of why Ice King's appearance & abilities is the way it is IS because of Evergreen's impression on Gunter {Evergreen was one of the ice elementals of the past btw- go watch the original Adventure Time for that context}. So Ice King isn't even an original character, just the crown building off the wishes and manifestations of each bearer by emulating a warped version of Evergreen. And that's the main reason why I speculate Ice Thing aka Gunter the Penguin is chill af to the point he got married and can exist with less gems. His wish didn't build off of power to protect Marceline (Simon) nor the power to copy Evergreen (Original Gunter).

As the main trio jump from connected universe to connected universe, more Simons and crowns will appear that are even more removed from our Ooo's crown and it's version of Ice King or Ice Prince or Winter King will only manifest because of the prior and current wishes made. So if Simon does get a crown that isn't the Ooo crown, will the Ice King that once existed even be THE Ice King he wants to be? And will Simon want to be Ice King or an Ice King when the trio do return to his Ooo?

The crown and it's many versions is a paradox that can only be resolved if Simon and Fionna can work together but also set aside their depression to address what they both really want and what that wish's intention will do to themselves and those around them. In short, shit's deep

I applaud the team for Fionna and Cake for tackling such a layered problem and I'm excited to see how Simon's soup of emotions, Fionna's growth, & magic crown of Theseus is addressed.

[sophiethewitch1]

Did you orphan what we want? (no rush or anything, I'm just curious because you haven't updated in a while and you haven't said anything about it.)

No not at all, I said recently that I'm quite physically ill at the moment, and dealing with a lot of chronic pain. I'm trying out some new meds and I've been able to write a bit yesterday and today but it wasn't for what we want because I'm just trying to get myself going again. I definitely want to keep going but when I can't think most of the time because I'm in so much pain it's kind of hard to make anything that I actually like enough to put online. Believe me, I've tried when I've been feeling bad and it has been some of the most insane rambling you'd have ever seen. There was no point to any of the conversation and the entire scene had to be scrapped 🥲

[jazziejax]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐃𝐮𝐬𝐤 ‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Cowboy!Terry Richmond x Black!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - They had always had this lingering tension between them. But not it seems that whatever feelings were there have now boiled over and at the Sweet Tooth Saloon, things get a little hot.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 18+!, MINORS DNI, Heavy tension, sensual dancing, explicit smut, oral (f!receiving), soft!Terry, mild dominance, tender aftercare, implied feelings

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - since yall only like me when I write about Aaron Pierre 🙄 I’m not good at wiring smut and I don’t even like doing it but this is something to hold yall over in case I drop off the fave if the earth soon. I have Finals next week :( UNEDITED, sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes. There probably many because my laptop over heated…also, I can’t write a short fic to save my life.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭- 9,567+

The small bell above the door jingled as the large man stepped into the beauty salon, ducking slightly to avoid the low-hanging dried herbs strung up near the entrance. The scent of lavender and bergamot mixed with the faintest trace of hot iron and other chemicals, the kind used to curl or straighten a lady’s hair.

He had never set foot in a place like this before. Not because he didn’t believe in looking presentable—he just never trusted another person with a razor near his throat. And, to be honest, he didn't mind looking rough sometimes, but he was starting to become a little self-conscious whenever a woman looked at him for too long. Especially her. But the dust of the road clung to him, so his beard and his hair had grown past the point of comfort as he and his comrades spent more time than they thought in Sugar Cane Creek. Everything needed a trim. At least, the mirror at the bar last night told him as much, and Jim had made a comment about him “starting to look like a wild man”.

Terry didn’t care much what people thought, but he cared about feeling like himself.

A woman stood behind the counter, fingers-deep in a bowl of soapy water, scrubbing a comb. The early morning light that poured through the shop window was caught in her dark hair, making it shine like polished mahogany. She looked up, recognizing him instantly—because who in Sugar Cane Creek didn’t know who he rode with? But she didn’t stiffen or frown like some folk did when they saw a man from the Nat Love Gang.

Instead, she wiped her hands on a cloth, tilted her head, and smiled just enough to let him know she wasn’t afraid.

“Well, well." She mused, setting her rag aside. “Never thought I’d see the day you walked in here.” She said, a soft grin on her face. Her voice was as rich and smooth as honey fresh from the comb.

Terry removed his hat with a sigh, brushing a hand over his curls that had gotten a little thick on top of his head. “I think I'm in need of a trim.”

She raised a brow. “Hair or beard?”

“Both.”

Her gaze flickered over him, lingering on the rough edges of his beard. “I’ll say. Starting to look real close to a mountain man.” She quipped. Terry, however, didn’t smile, but something in his dark eyes did shift, a flicker of amusement that only she would catch. They had always danced around one another. Something they had been doing for a while now—exchanging looks in town while Terry earned his keep over at Cotton's and she began to start her work day at The Blush and Brush Parlor, brushing shoulders when they shared time at The Sweet Tooth Saloon. He was a quiet man, but she liked that about him. A man who didn’t talk just to fill space.

Her eyes flickered over his face, then lower to where his suede, dark brown, coat stretched broad across his shoulders. “Take your coat off." She said, already gathering her scissors. “You might be here a while.”

Terry hesitated, looking down at the shorter woman with a tired look. "Don't talk about me like I'm some sort of ruffian, now." He said, his voice deep and his country drawl thick. The brown skinned woman gave him a faux pout with a small laugh. "Oh, I'm sorry, bright eyes, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Now take a seat and let’s get you looking decent again, okay?" She grinned, playing coy with him. Terry didn't flinch at the name, but a small twitch was his lip was noticeable to her before he then shrugged out of his coat and laid it over the empty chair not far from him. He then sat down in the chair she stood in front of, allowing the woman to drape a sheet over his front, tying it at the back of his neck with nimble fingers before combing through his hair. She was gentle, but precise—no wasted movements, no hesitation.

"You know how to do men's hair?" He asked.

"Yup." She said. “Been cutting my daddy’s since I was eight. Used to say I was better than any barber in town.” He could hear the smile in her tone at the thought, though it veered off into something a little sad.

Terry hummed, the closest he’d come to laughter anyways, but he could also tell that the subject was a little sensitive to her. He let her work, let the soft snip of the scissors fill the quiet. Every so often, he felt the barest brush of her fingertips against his skin. He could also feel her large chest brush against the back of his neck every now and then, causing him to look up into the mirror in front of him, watching the woman work. He wasn’t a man who flinched easy, but something about that gentle touch made him tense in a way he couldn’t explain.

The shop was quiet except for the snip of her scissors. She worked with practiced ease, combing through his hair, trimming away the weight. Every so often, her fingers brushed the nape of his neck, light and deliberate. She felt the way he tensed, barely noticeable, but there.

“Relax, cowboy." She teased. “I ain’t gon' hurt you.” She said softly.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, settling into the chair.

She then suddenly grabbed the side of his head, straightening his head and looking at him though the mirror. He wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but he didn't question it as he watched her intensely though the mirror.

“Alright." She murmured after a while. “That’s the hair. Now the tricky part.”

She brush the excess hair from him before she turned to the washbasin, dipping a cloth into warm water before wringing it out. He expected her to hand it to him, but instead, she pressed it against his face herself. She held his head steady with her other hand, gripping his chin. And he couldn't help but wonder if she did the same procedures with all her clients, because even though his hair looked better than before, the way she was touching felt oddly intimate. The heat from her touch as well as the warm cloth sank into his skin, soothing the roughness of travel and the dry air. He hadn’t realized how much he needed that.

She worked carefully, rubbing a mixture of soap and oil into his beard before picking up the straight razor. She tested the blade against her thumb. She hummed before moving over to the leather strap against the wall to give it a quick sharpen. She tested it again, obviously to her liking since she walked back over and tipped his chin up with two fingers.

“You ever had a woman shave you before?” She asked, looking up from inspecting his unruly beard to lock eyes with his bright ones. It was a simple question, calling for a simple answer, but their gazes were intense. Terry shook his head, just barely, caught in her big eyes and soft touch as he licked his lips.

His response, or lack there of, caused her to grin. “Good. Means you’ll keep still.” She said, only leaning in briefly as she joked with him, but her sudden contact made allowed him to catch a whiff of sweet scent like, something like Ambrosia.

“Lean back,” She instructed, her foot hovering over the pump that allowed the chair to recline. Terry hesitated, blinking at her. It's not that he didn't trust her, he'd known her for quite some time now. He trusted her hands in his hair, but a blade near his throat? That was different. He never trusted anyone that much, not even his closest comrades. It's the reason why all his self-cut's were a little choppy. Something that wouldn't have mattered if he was still up to his outlaw duties and on the road. But now he was spending his time in saloon's and around beauties they didn't offer at home.

She caught the shift in his posture, her smirk turning knowing. “You scared?” She questioned.

Terry met her gaze, his own steady. “No.”

“Then sit still.” She said before she pushed down on the pump under the chair, allowing it to recline. And that he did, opening his growing facial hair to her, ample room left in case of his worst fear. But he had no reason to fear her and her intentions, because her blade was steady. Her hands were sure, and he trusted her, even though he had no reason to.

The razor glided slow, careful. She kept her grip steady, the blade sharp and sure as it skimmed along his jaw. The heat of the late afternoon pressed into the shop, thick and lazy, but it wasn’t what made her skin prickle. It wasn’t what sent that slow, creeping flush up her neck, settling warm in her cheeks.

No, that was him. It was his eyes that were watching her.

They were unblinking, steady, tracking her every move like a man who had nowhere else to be. He was always like this—silent, still, and always looking—but something about it felt different now. Maybe because they were closer than usual. Maybe because she could feel the heat radiating off him, could see the slow rise and fall of his chest under the weight of her touch.

She set her jaw, trying not to let on just how much she felt him. The every move he made under her touch.

Instead, she focused.

“Bet you’re the kind of man who don’t like feeling vulnerable." She murmured, trying to make small talk with staring man.

Terry’s eyes stayed on her. “You talk too much.” He said, quirking a brow at her. She chuckled, dragging the blade along his jawline. “Maybe. But you don’t talk enough, so it evens out.”

Her hand shifted, fingers pressing just beneath his chin as she tilted his head for a better angle. He was warm beneath her touch, his pulse steady, but she felt it jump when her nails scraped lightly against his throat. She tilted his chin just slightly, her fingers light under his jaw, and dragged the blade down his throat in a slow, deliberate motion. He let her, not moving, not even swallowing, though she could see the tight pull of his muscles beneath his skin, right at the peek of his shirt.

She shouldn’t be looking there, but how could she not? This hunk of a man was lying below her, almost open and willing as he gazed up her with a soft look in his eyes. The air between them was thick, something unspoken curling at the edges. Her grip on the razor tightened just a little as she worked, and his gaze burned hotter for it.

“You always watch this hard?” She asked finally, keeping her tone light as she wiped the hair she cut on a rag after shaking it off in the water basin and then wiping it away. She glanced up some, catching sight of his lips—pink, full, and slightly parted—tipped up at the corner. “Always.” That single word, rough and low, sent something straight to her stomach.

She swallowed as she continued working, trying her best to focus, steadying herself. She wasn’t about to let him get the better of her, no matter how much heat curled between them. But she also took her time finishing the shave, enjoying the rare sight of the outlaw that is Terry Richmond—silent, still, and at her mercy.

“You’re awful quiet for a man with so much to say in his eyes." She murmured, brushing away the lingering shaving foam with the pad of her thumb. Her hand lingered a second too long, caught in the shape of his jaw. Terry still didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched her.

“Didn’t know I needed to talk." He said, and she could’ve sworn she saw his blue eyes flicker to a sea green as the light hit them. The warmth in her cheeks…and else where, deepened. She pulled back, making quick work of the last stroke of hair she had to eliminate, but her hands weren’t as steady as before.

And he knew that.

By the time she was done, the shop felt too small, too warm, too much. She grabbed the cloth and wiped his face cleaning, looking at her finished product around his mouth. Her eyes met his briefly as she took in the goatee she set him up with, a small smile beginning to grace his feature as his eyes bounced across her face. She cleared her throat softly, wiping an imaginary spot of lather from his jaw and leaned back to admire her work. “There. You clean up nice, cowboy.” She said with a grin.

She turned, quickly wiping the blade clean, setting it aside, and moving a few steps away to compose herself as she gathered the material she sat out in front of the mirror.

But then she felt him stand up from the chair, taking the cape off. She felt the shift in the air when he got close—just behind her. Close enough that she could feel the heat of him at her back. She glanced up, watching as he inspected his face in the mirror from behind her. He rubbed his large hands across his face, taking in his fresh look. He only did that for a few seconds before his gazed dropped to the round woman below him. He her her eyes in the mirror, nothing but an exchange between their eyes. She was the only to look away first, cleaning the station.

Terry sat the hair cape he had in his hands in the chair, looking as himself one last time before he hummed in content. He place his hand on her shoulder, large over her breakers that was far from small. “Good job.” He said, voice low near her ear. He then stepped away, his hand dragging down and across the back of her waist as he moved over to shoulder on his coat. She froze at the feeling of him touching her, and then gulped at his fingers tracking off her body. She looked up, looking herself in the eye and blinking, making sure this was all real, before looking in the mirror to watch him put the coat over his large frame.

Terry ran a hand over his chin, feeling the smoothness. He met her gaze, something unspoken passing between them.

“How much?” He asked after putting on his hat, straightening his clothing, and she tried not to get distract by the way he grabbed his belt, using it to adjust his pants. She turns, tiring her head at him as she gave him a noticeable once over. “Hmm.” She stated with a hum, placing her hands on her hips as she stepped closer. “Well, if you were any other customer, I’d charge five cent. But for you, Terry Richmond, I’ll charge you three.” She smiled.

Terry’s lips twitched, his expression unreadable as he glanced off into the distance out side of the parlor’s windows. He adjusted his belt, the large buckle dinging softly while the leather shifted under his grip. His eyes, sharp and knowing, flicked back to her.

“Three cents, huh?” His voice was smooth, lazy, but there was an edge to it—like he was turning something over in his mind. “Mighty generous of you. Can’t help but to think I’m special.” He quipped, though his tone never really wavered from his deep baritone and his serious manner.

She lifted a brow, arms still crossed as she tilted her head at him. “Well, I’m feelin’ kind.” She smiled, playing along to the game she knew she started, all for the hell of it.

That little smirk of his deepened. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, closing some of the space she’d put between them. She felt it immediately—his warmth, his presence. It was impossible not to.

“You always this kind? Or only to me?” His voice had dropped, rough and low, like gravel dipped in honey.

Her pulse skipped. She held his gaze, not backing down, but he knew what he was doing. He knew the way his voice curled around her, the way his eyes made her skin prickle. Her breath caught, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she kept her expression even, playful, letting her smile linger as she tilted her chin up at him.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” She murmured, voice smooth as satin. “Mr. Special.” She finished, a certain glint in her eye as she tilted her chin just slightly—like she wasn’t the least bit affected. Like she wasn’t keenly aware of just how close he was now.

Terry huffed a quiet chuckle, but there was something else in his eyes—something sharp, knowing. His gaze flickered down, just briefly at the Lowe part of her face, before settling back on hers. His presence was suffocating in the best way, heavy and warm, filling up the little space between them.

“I would.” He admitted, voice slow and deliberate, like he was testing the weight of the words. “Got a feelin’ the answer might keep me up at night.” He said, crossing his arms.

She let out a soft laugh, looking away from his heavy stare as she shook her head. The heat curling in her stomach was unmistakable. He was good—too good. And she didn’t now how’s long she last in this little game they always played before she pounced on him.

“Don’t go losin’ sleep over me, Richmond.” She teased, even as her pulse thrummed in her ears. She breezed past him, making sure her side brushed against his as she moving over to the small counter on the left side of the door. His eyes trailed down her figure once her back was to him, taking in her round and voluptuous curves from behind. “Wouldn’t wanna be the cause of your troubles.” She finished as she turned to look at him from behind the counter. She leaned her weight in the counter, her hand clasped together with her forearms resting on cold wood. She watched as Terry stood there for a moment, the look in his eye darker than before as he stated at her. He then blinked before moving, not taking his eyes from her with his pace slow and deliberate before he stood on the other side of the counter, looking down at the woman.

Terry tilted his head slightly, studying her like he was seeing something no one else had the sense to look for.

“Too late for that.” He said. The words were quiet, but they landed heavy between them, sending a shiver straight down her spine. Before she could find something clever to throw back at him after gulping, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver dollar, and placed it on the counter in front of her hands. His fingers brushed hers, Cushing him to glance down at the small touch.

He then looked back up, his blue eyes staring into her brown ones. “That oughta cover the next few visits.” He said, voice even, but there was that flicker of something else in his eyes again—something smug, something dangerous.

She laughed, shaking her head. “That’s too much.”

Terry simply shook his head, glancing away from her. “Nah.”

She narrowed her gaze at him, lips parting slightly, but he was already shrugging into his coat, the weight of his scent—tobacco and something deep, something him—lingering in the air. “And here I thought you didn’t like to talk.” She mused, watching him, arms placed on the counter as she thought over all their silent but pleasant times together in the Saloon while the rest of the gang chatted.

Terry confined to gaze at her, his eyes taking across her face. “I don’t.” He said, his smirk lazy, knowing. He paused, casting her a slow, lingering glance—one that made her stomach twist up in knots. He then turned to the door, but before pausing and casting one last glance over his shoulder. His gaze swept over her—slow, deliberate, enough to make the air feel thick with something unspoken. Then, after a beat—“But you make it worth it, Mrs.Special.” Then he tipped his hat and walked out.

And then, just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing there, staring after him, her heart racing, her face burning hotter than a summer’s day in Cane Creek, her fingers gripping the counter a little tighter than before and the lingering ghost of his eyes still burning against her skin.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The Sweet Tooth Saloon was alive tonight—thick with the scent of whiskey, tobacco, and the heat of too many bodies pressed close together. Laughter and conversation swirled beneath the hum of string instruments, boots tapping against the wooden floor. The music was thick, rolling through the air like smoke, wrapping around every body packed into the space. Heat clung to the walls, thick with whiskey, sweat, and the deep, throaty hum of anticipation.

But all of it quieted—just a little—when she stepped onto the stage. Her deep red dress hugging her curves, sinching in her waist and pushing up her breast.

The pianist struck a slow, rolling tune, and a hush fell over the crowd like a held breath. She let them wait, dragging her fingertips along the microphone stand, tilting her head slightly as she took in the sea of faces before her. Then, just when the tension thickened, she let her voice pour out, smooth and rich like warm molasses.

The song was sultry, the kind that curled its way around a man’s spine and made him lean in just a little closer, made him think about things he shouldn’t in a room full of people. And Lord, did they lean in. The entire saloon was hanging onto her voice, watching the way she swayed, the way her fingers trailed down her own arm, the way she made every lyric sound like a promise whispered against bare skin.

Men leaned closer, their drinks forgotten, their gazes fixed on the woman commanding the stage. Her voice was rich, full of promise, of something dark and sweet.

But there was only one pair of eyes she felt, steady and unwavering through the thick haze of smoke and lantern light. In the very back, where the light barely reached, where the smoke curled the thickest—she saw him.

Terry Richmond.

He was leaning against the bar, broad and still, his hat tilted low but not enough to hide the way his bright eyes. He was half-shrouded in shadow, his bright blue gaze cutting through the dim like a knife. He wasn’t drinking, wasn’t talking—just watching.

Her heart skipped a little.

Heat licked up her spine at the intensity of it, but she didn’t let it shake her. She didn’t falter under his gaze. Instead, she let it fuel her, let it shape the way she sang, the way her lips curved around the lyrics, the way she dragged her fingers over the curve of her own waist. If he wanted to look, she was gonna give him something worth looking at.

She kept singing, dragging out the final note, letting it settle over the room like the last flicker of a candle before it goes out. By the time the last note left her lips, the saloon erupted in cheers, men whistling, clapping, stomping their boots against the floor. She gave a slow, knowing smile, dipping into a slight bow before stepping down from the stage.

She didn’t make a show of looking for him, but she knew exactly where she was going.

The moment she reached the bar, a whiskey was already waiting for her—on the house, as always. She took a slow sip, letting the burn settle deep before finally turning, finally meeting his gaze up close. The bar was crowded, but somehow, the space next to Terry was clear. He didn’t look at her right away, just lifted a hand slightly to catch the bartender’s attention. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. He just looked at her, that same unreadable expression on his face.

“Whiskey?” He asked, voice low, smooth like dark molasses as he gave a small gesture to the glass she already downed. She leaned against the counter, close enough that the edge of her skirt brushed his leg. “You know me too well.” She grinned, already feeling the buzz that the alcohol as giving her. At that, Terry slid a silver coin across the counter, and within seconds, a glass was in front of her. She looked away from him as she took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in her chest. She could feel him watching her, but he didn’t speak. Didn’t have to. That was the thing about Terry—he could say more in a look than most men could in a thousand words.

“You always stare this hard, Richmond?” She asked, looking over at him with a tilt of her head once she had enough of the hard liquor, her voice still thick with the remnants of the song. His lips quirked, just barely, his eyes drifting over her figure. “Only when I like what I see.”

Her stomach flipped at his words, but she kept her expression even, playful. “That so?” She asked, a smirk in her lip and quirk of her brow. “That’s so.” He repeated in confirmation, then kicking his lips. Terry then leaned in just a fraction, close enough that she could feel the heat of him, close enough that she caught the scent of tobacco and cedarwood clinging to his coat.

“So much so.” He murmured, “That I might just have to get my hands on it.” Her breath caught, pulse quickening, but before she could say something sharp, something smart—before she could even decide if she wanted to—Terry’s head tilted slightly, his gaze flickering to the dance floor.

A new song had started.

Something slow. Something meant to be felt more than heard. She barely had time to set her glass down before Terry’s hand slid to her waist.

Without another word, without giving her the chance to refuse, his other hand reached for hers, his grip warm and sure as he led her away from the bar. Her breath hitched. Her heart pounded as she let him pull her into him, his palm settling low against her back. He didn’t ask. Didn’t say a damn word. Just pulled her onto the dance floor.

If he wanted to play with fire, she was more than happy to let him burn.

The moment they stepped into the space, bodies made room for them. Not out of fear, not tonight, but out of knowing. Because everyone in Sugar Cane Creek had eyes. And at that moment, everyone had seen the way Terry Richmond looked at her. The way she looked back.

The tension wrapped around them thick as smoke, curling in the air, pressing against their skin.

Terry moved slow, deliberate, his hand firm at the small of her back, the other clasping hers as he pulled her close—closer than what was proper, closer than what was wise. She let him, her breath shuddering as she settled into him, the warmth of his body seeping into hers. The saloon blurred around them, the lights dim, the chatter distant. None of it mattered. Not when his blue eyes were locked onto hers, not when she could feel the slow drag of his thumb against the back of her hand.

“You dance?” She murmured, her voice teasing, her lips dangerously close to his jaw. She felt him take in a breath with her chest against hers, and if she paused attention, she could’ve sworn she felt the way his heart was beating. “Only when I got reason to.” He answered, his voice a low rumble against her skin. “You given me plenty.” He said, his lips close to her ear as they danced.

She swallowed that his tone so close, heat curling in her belly. “Is that so?”

His fingers flexed against her back, pulling her that last inch closer. His breath, warm and slow, ghosted over her cheek. “Mmhmm.” He hummed with a lick of his lips, the sound causing his body to rumble against hers. She exhaled softly, turning her head just enough that their noses brushed, just enough that if either of them leaned in—just a little—they’d be past the point of no return.

The music swelled, the rhythm thick and slow, wrapping around them like a promise. The way they moved now—close, slow, like something dangerous just beneath the surface—only confirmed what they both had long suspected.

His hand was firm against the small of her back, his other clasping hers as he led her through the steps. It wasn’t a fast dance, nothing rowdy or wild, but it was just as electric. Every turn, every shift, had them pressing together. His breath skimmed the shell of her ear when he leaned in, his grip tightening just enough to let her feel the strength in his arms.

“You always hold a woman this close when you dance?” She whispered, looking up at him through her lashes. Terry’s lips barely curved, his smirk lazy, knowing. “Only when I don’t plan on lettin’ go.” He said, his eyes inspecting every crevice her face had to offer. He didn’t know if he’d bee be this close to her again, and he was taking advantage of the blessing he had to hold her in this way, and gaze at her face as he did.

Her breath hitched.

Neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked.

Lord, the way he watched her. He looked at her as if she was the only thing in the room. Like he was memorizing her in real time. She met his gaze, bold as ever, and let her fingers trail slow up his shoulder, tracing the line of his coat until her nails met the hot skin of his neck. A muscle in his jaw ticked at that. His grip on her waist flexed. They didn’t speak. Didn’t need to.

And then, just when she thought he might tip his head and close the space, just when she thought she might lose her damn mind waiting for it—

He pulled her into the next step of the dance, smooth as silk, a satisfied glint in those blue eyes of his. He was teasing her. Daring her.

If he wanted a game, she was more than happy to play.

“Oh, is that how you want to play?” She asked, feigning innocence while her pulse quickened with anticipation.

Terry’s smirk returned, a challenge wrapped in his expression. “You started it, darlin’.” He replied, stepping into her space that was no longer available due to him, their bodies flush against one another. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, lulling her in despite the playful facade they each wore. He controlled their movements with a firm yet gentle lead, the world around them fading as she lost herself in the intensity of his gaze and the cadence of their bodies moving in sync.

She narrowed her eyes, but her smirk was knowing. Two could play that game. She let her body press just a little closer, her curves molding against the hard lines of him, her breath a warm whisper against his cheek. He swallowed, his fingers tightening against her waist, a sharp inhale the only sign of restraint.

She felt it, that slip of control, and it sent something hot through her veins. "Careful, cowboy." She murmured, voice all honey and silk. "You might not want to let go, but I ain't so sure you can handle holdin’ on."

His eyes then darkened. His grip flexed, strong fingers digging into the curve of her waist, keeping her against him like he had no intention of letting her go. Not now. Not ever. Now, Terry didn’t scare easy. Didn’t flinch and didn’t fold to many.

But her?

She was dangerous in a way he wasn’t prepared for. Her voice, all thick honey and slow-drawn silk, wrapped around him, testing, teasing, tempting as it spilling through his ear and ran though his veins like it was his blood. Keeping his heart pumping. He could feel the shape of her, soft and warm against the hard planes of his body, the sway of their dance turning into something far more dangerous, far more intimate.

He leaned in, just enough that his lips brushed the shell of her ear. “You think I can’t handle you?” He asked, his hands drifting lower as he practically engulfed her in his body. She let out a breathy little laugh, conveniently covering the way she took in a sudden breath at his touch, one that made his pulse jump, made his restraint strain at the edges. "Wouldn’t be the first man to try and fail, cowboy.” She whispered to him, her fingers brushing against the nape of his neck, feeling the freshly shaved haircut he had gotten only hours prior.

Terry exhaled through his nose, amused, darkly so.

She was pushing him, daring him. And he welcomed the challenge. So he let his hand slide lower, fingers grazing the base of her spine, just above the curve of her ass, applying the slightest pressure that had her breath catching. She was quick, though. Slipping her arms around his shoulders, she placed her hand on the back of his head, nails scratching ever so lightly. That same muscle in his jaw ticked again.

Her smirk widened.

That was it.

The last frayed thread of his patience snapped.

Without warning, Terry spun her, pressing her back against his front, effectively caging her in. The movement had her chest rising, her lips parting, and damn if that wasn’t the prettiest sight he’d ever seen as he looked down at her. His voice dropped, a low murmur only for her.

"Darlin'..." His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down the side of her neck, lingering at the base of her throat. He could feel her pulse hammering beneath his touch while his other hand rested low on her waist in the front, easing down to a place unimaginable in front of folks. “You’re playin’ with fire." He muttered.

She tilted her chin up, leaning her head back against his chest, gaze smoldering. "Good thing I ain't afraid to burn.” She whispered. And that was all he needed. He quickly spun her around and his mouth was on hers, rough and consuming, his kiss leaving no room for question, no space for anything but him—his hands, his body, the heat of him pressing against every part of her.

She met him with equal fervor, fingers fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth when he pressed himself fully against her. The saloon around them might as well have disappeared.

Nothing else existed in that moment. Just him and just her. That and the fire threatening to consume them both.

One moment, they were moving with the rhythm of the music, spinning slow in the dim glow of the saloon lights. The next, he was leading her off the floor, through the press of bodies, past the thick haze of cigar smoke and whiskey-scented air. The second the cool night air hit her skin, she was backed against the wooden frame of the saloon’s outer wall, the rough grain pressing into her spine, his body caging her in.

There was no more teasing, just as there was no more space between them. She barely had time to breathe before his lips found hers again. Slow, at first, like he was still savoring, still memorizing, but the second she sighed against his mouth, the second her fingers slid into his hair and pulled, something broke between them. The kiss turned hungry and deep.

Like he’d been starving for this—for her—for longer than he cared to admit.

She gasped when he gripped her thigh, hitching it up against his hip, pressing her flush against him, making her feel a bulge she that didn't know was his belt buckle, the crease of his jeans or his manhood. Heat coiled between them, urgent and burning, his mouth trailing from her lips to her jaw, down the curve of her neck. She tilted her head, giving him more, losing herself to the feel of him—the weight of his body, the heat of his breath, the quiet growl he let slip when she dragged her nails down his back. "Oh, Terry," She breathed, and damn if he didn’t shudder at the sound of it.

He lifted his head, his forehead pressing against hers, their breath mingling, their bodies still tangled together in the shadows. "I ain’t lettin’ go," He murmured, voice rough, edged with something dangerous. "Not tonight."

She grinned, breathless, running her fingers down the side of his face, feeling the slight roughness of his freshly shaven jaw. "Good." She said before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to place her lips against her. The kiss lasted for mere seconds, a mash of panting breaths and slick tongues before Terry pulled away. He didn’t say a word before he took her hand, his fingers wrapping firm around hers, rough and warm. He didn’t have to. The look in his eyes, the quiet pull of his grip, said enough.

She followed him back through the saloon, past the clinking glasses and low murmur of conversation, past the haze of cigar smoke still hanging thick in the air. The wooden stairs creaked under their steps as he led her up, slow and steady, his thumb tracing slow circles against her palm like he was trying to keep himself anchored. Or like he was memorizing her touch.

She should’ve felt nervous. Should’ve felt some sense of hesitation as they moved further away from the music, from the people, from any excuse to slow this down.

But she didn’t. All she could focus on was him.

The broad stretch of his shoulders. The slow, deliberate pace of his steps. The way he glanced back at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes dark with something unreadable, something that made her stomach dip and heat coil between her ribs.

They reached his door.

And for a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

He just stood there, facing the wood, his breath slow and measured like he was giving himself a second to think—to decide if this was a line he was ready to cross. Then, without a word, he pushed it open. The second they were inside, it changed.

The tension that had been simmering, stretching between them in the dance, in the way he watched her, in every unspoken moment leading up to this—it snapped.

She barely had time to take in the room before she was against the door, her back pressed against the worn wood, her breath stolen by the press of his body. Terry’s lips crashed against hers, no hesitation now, no teasing restraint. He kissed her like he’d been holding back for too damn long, like he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance again, and she felt it all. The hunger. The need. The slow, deep pull of something dangerously close to devotion.

She gasped when his hands—big, warm, calloused from work—spanned her waist, dragging her closer, molding her to him like he needed to feel every inch of her against him. His hands tacked down, bending slightly to gather the bunch of her skirt. He hiked it up, catching a feel of her warm thighs that molded under his grip. The feeling of her hands caused her to moan in his mouth, her hands moving over him feverishly as she was filled heat she was giving her. He didn’t hold back, moving his hands up for the back of her legs and gracing over the smooth skin of her ass. He tightened his grip, needing it and causing her to gasp into his mouth. He took his as an option to slip his tongue deeper, almost sucking on hers while he moved his hands to begin to untie the strings of her corset.

She didn’t hold back either. Her fingers found the buttons of his vest, fumbling with them, her hands eager and desperate to feel the heat of his skin. His breath hitched against her mouth when she dragged the fabric from his shoulders, then she felt the quiet rumble of a chuckle against her lips when she yanked his shirt free and ragged her hands down his ribbed abdomen, impatience getting the best of her.

"So eager.” He murmured against her lips, voice low and teasing.

She narrowed her eyes, nipping softly at his bottom lip with her teeth, her nails grazing down his chest, feeling the sharp inhale he took at the touch. "So are you." She purred.

And he didn’t argue. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he reached back down, cupped her though just under her ass, and lifted her, carrying her further into the room like she weighed nothing at all. She barely had time to register the shift before she felt the softness of the mattress beneath her, his weight pressing her down, his mouth trailing slow, lingering kisses down the column of her throat. His touch was slow and sensual, his hands finding any place to rub and caress. Like he was still memorizing, like he was savoring.

But the moment she whispered his name—breathy and wanting—something shifted again. His slow, deliberate control had snapped.

And neither of them held back anymore.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled him closer as if she was trying to meld them into one. Terry's breath caught as his bulge hit her core, his hands gripped her tighter, holding her as if he were afraid she might slip away. The world outside faded -no clinking glasses, no murmurs, just the vibrant thud of their hearts battling for attention in the silence between their kisses. Their mouths slid together with a hunger that left her breathless. Every kiss deepened the fire sparking between them, waves of adrenaline crashing over her as she tangled her fingers in his hair, pulling him even closer as he dipped down to claim her throat once more. He kissed his way down, worshipping her skin with heated touches and soft bites, igniting every nerve ending in her body.

"Tell me what you want.” He murmured against her collarbone, his breath hot against the cool air of the room. “Come on, tell me baby. Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” He breathed out. There was something dangerously tender in his rough but needy words, as if he genuinely wanted to know-not just in the heat of the moment, but in that space where everything was laid bare.

She didn't hesitate. "You. All of you. Right here, right now, baby. Give it to me." It was a wild and brisk admission, and a thrill shot through her at the honesty in her voice. She could feel Terry's pulse quicken at her words, a primal urge coursing through him. He raised his head, looking directly into her eyes, and in that moment, she understood. This was more than a fleeting encounter. This was a collision of desires that had been simmering for far too long.

With a sharp intake of breath, he dove back into her mouth, a feverish kiss that stole her thoughts and drowned her in pleasure. She felt the weight of him press into her, his body a delicious contradiction of strength and softness. He paused for the briefest moment to catch her gaze, the heat in his eyes burning deeper than before, and she sensed the shift—not just in the proximity of their bodies, but in the intensity of everything that hung between them.

"Are you sure?" He rasped, pulling back just enough for her to see the uncertainty mingled with desire in his eyes. She could sense it— the weight of the moment, the gravity of their choices. "Absolutely.” She replied, her heart racing with certainty. She reached for him again, pulling him closer, and felt a grin split his face as he dove into her once more, taking her breath and leaving nothing but a breathless gasp in its wake.

Their clothes were off in an instant.

Once her corset was off and the full expanse of her skin was showing, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, his tongue trace the outline of her areola to his heart's content before pulling away to show the other the same attention. He listened to her sigh and smiled. "I love the way you sound." He said before grumbling out her name.

"Yeah?" She sighed, eyes closed as she took in the feeling of his tongue as he licked up her sternum. "I love the way you say my name." She breathed.

"Yeah?" Terry releated as his hands drifted lower in her body. “ I love your body. Your perfect." He paused to place a kiss on her stomach. “Perfect.” Another kiss, this time below her belly button. “Perfect, body.” He finished, his warm breath blowing on her core. His hands moved from her waist, deriding lower to ease her legs apart as he took in the sigh before him. He audibly moaned at the sight, practically drooling as he looked at her. “So fucking pretty.” He whispered. He wanted to taste all she had to offer. Before she could sink in, She placed her hand on his head, pushing his head back. “Wait.” She said.

Terry looked up at her, his large blue eyes dark and blown with lust. “What is it baby?” He asked, licking his lips as his eyes trailed over her form laid out before him. Her eyes sifted away from his stare, biting at her bottom lip before she spoke. “I…I’ve never had a fella go down there before.” She said softly.

Terry’s smirk faded, his expression shifting into something softer, something reverent. He rested his hands on her hips, his thumbs stroking slow and reassuring circles against her skin, before he placed his head on her bender knee. “Ever?” He asked. His voice was quiet, almost disbelieving, but there was no judgment—just understanding, just care. And something a little more that neither of them knew.

She shook her head, eyes darting away, almost shy. “Ain’t never been with a man who wanted to.” She shrugged a bit, still biting at her lower lip.

Terry exhaled sharply, his brows pulling together for the briefest moment, like the thought alone frustrated him. He cupped the side of her thigh, grounding her, making sure she felt him, felt the sincerity in his touch.

“Well.” He said, voice warm and steady, “You got one now.”

Her eyes flickered back to his, searching, cautious. But all she found was certainty. His lips brushed against her skin, his breath warm as he murmured, “You just tell me what feels good, darlin’. I got you. I just want you to play back. You ain’t gotta worry no more.” He said, his voice going back into the deep ruble that set her ablaze. And the way he said it—so sure, so gentle—made something deep in her chest tighten. Because she believed him.

So that’s what she did, ladies back against the pillows and open her legs further, barring it all and offering it to him. And Terry took it with life, gratitude, as well as pure lust. Like a magnet, Terry's fingers found their way to her slick lips as he gathered wetness before dragging his skilled digits around her clit. Her breath audibly hitched from the contact, making him chuckle before he pressed his lips against her plump thigh, squeezing with the other hand. Slow circles, maddeningly slow and gentle enough to feel like nothing at all had her willing to agree to just about anything to get off.

He then lunged forward with hunger, letting his tongue do all the talking, slithering inside of her warm walls as his nose nudged her clit. She tensed up with every nudge, let out small pants at the unfamiliar yet raviging feeling that washed over her. He glanced down, watching as he freely put his face in her center. He made it messy enough to admire when he pulled his mouth off of her, her pussy glistening like he just doused her in oil.

"Ohh, look at you, baby.” The grumble that came deep from within his throat as he watched her cute clenched around nothing as she continued to whine from the loss of contact from above. And his green eyes on her most intimate parts made it so hard not to get hot and bothered even with him not doing anything. Her poor nub was jumping with excitement as he used his large fingers to spread her lips open. “Look who’s happy to see me." He said as he took in a sharp breath, feeling her slick coating his fingers, the sound of her wetness loud within the room. “You happy to see me, hun? Huh?“ He questioned, looking up at her.

She moan and nodded eagerly, bringing her hand to cover her mouth at the stimulation he was giving her down under. Terry smiled at that, sharp teeth flashing from under his lips. He tried to keep his eyes on hers, looking into her large orbs that were filled with pleasure and a slight sheen of tears at his touch, but her pussy that just kept sucking his fingers in had him in a trance as his sick standing at attention in his underwear. “Tell me you’re happy I’m down here. Making you feel so good.” He demanded. His tone didn’t leave anymore for defiance, which she took as she angered him. “I’m so happy you’re here, Terry. You feel so good, baby.” She whined out as best as she could, breaths short and rocked her hips into his fingers.

"Mmm, yeah, I know.” Terry grinned. “When the last time sometime touched you, huh?" He asked, but this time he got no response watching as she began to reach her high and feeling her clench around his finger. Tweeting pulled his hand back at that, causing the woman to whine at the loss of contact. “Tell me, hun, and we can continue.” He said.

"I-I don't remember.” She said, and she was telling the truth, she truly couldn't. It had to be nothing worth remembering, especially in comparison to what he was making her feel now.

"Well, I’m gon’ make sure you remember this, hear" He then bent down to deliver a bite to her plush thigh, almost as if he was warning her for what's to come before he dove his face back into her heat, slurping at her hard and soaked clit. Her belly was doing summersaults, she could barely contain her volume at the feeling of his long and warm muscle working a magic she’s never felt before. But her sounds were the last of his worries, they were actually only fuel to his already burning fire.

As he ate, he made noise. He moaned, grunted, groaned in her, letting he know and feel that he was having just as much fun as she was.

Her legs had began to shake the longer he was down there, her hands gripping onto the white sheets of the inn bed since that was all she had to hold on to after he practically ripped her’s and his clothes off beforehand.

"Yes! Yes, oh, yes! I'm so close, Terry baby.” She struggled to keep her eyes on him even with his staring back up at her over her pudge, his eyes low lidded and dark. They beckoned her to stay, to not go levee the edge just yet, but her pleasure had came rolling through like a monsoon and wiped all the thoughts from her brain. She was a shaking, blubbering mess under his weight as he continued to lick and eat at her juices. He moved his mouth away from her pussy only to replace it with his hand, rubbing her clit in tight circles as he subconsciously moved her hips.

"Just feel it, baby. Let it happen.” He cooed in that sexy country drawl. She tried to fight against his hand, her thighs subconsciously closing around his wrist. But he smacked his large hand into her juicy thighs and kept at it with his other hand until he felt like he was done. "Be still and met it happen, baby." He cooed, enticing another moan from the woman. She felt like she was literally about to float up into the heavens, her back arching up off of the couch just to get away from the overstimulation.

"Okay! Oh, Fuck!" She screamed. “Yes, Terry!” He moved his hand to allow her to go through the motions, watching as she twitched until that special feeling left her center. "Good job, baby.” He said, pressing a soft kiss on her thighs. “Good job, my pretty girl." Another kiss from him was placed beside her opened mouth as heavy breathing left as he moved up her body.

As the tremors faded from her body, she lay there, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, her skin flushed and glowing in the dim lights of the room. Her limbs felt weightless, boneless, as if she’d melted right into the bed.

Terry was still there, right where he had been, his hands firm on her thighs, holding her steady like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. He pressed slow, lingering kisses to the inside of her knee, then another, trailing up, as if savoring the aftermath.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found him watching her, his expression unreadable at first—like he was memorizing her in this moment, like he was trying to etch the sight of her pleasure into his bones. A slow, lazy smirk then tugged at his lips. “Ain’t never seen somethin’ so damn pretty.” His voice was rough, thick with satisfaction, but there was something else there too. Something deeper.

She let out a breathless laugh, her fingers finding their way into his hair, rubbing lightly. “You sure know how to make a girl feel special, cowboy.” She smirked. Terry hummed with chortle, leaning into her touch, his hands sliding up to rest at her waist as he crawled up beside her. “Ain’t about makin’ you feel special.” He murmured against her skin, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “You already are.”

Her breath hitched, her heart fluttering in her chest at the way he said it—so simple, so certain. She turned her head to look at him, finding those piercing blue eyes already on her, unwavering. And for a moment, neither of them spoke. There was no need to.

Instead, she reached for him, guiding his face to hers, and kissed him slow—letting him feel exactly how much she believed him. She slowly came back to herself with her lips attached to his, still basking in the warmth of his touch. She let her fingers trail down his chest, her nails scraping lightly over the fabric of his briefs. She could feel the way his breath hitched, bus bulge rubbing against her. The tension still coiled tight in his body despite the easy way he lay beside her.

A slow smirk pulled at her lips as she traced top of his boxers, slipping her hand into them with practiced ease. “Reckon I should return the favor.” She murmured, her voice soft, teasing.

But before she could go any further, Terry’s hand caught hers—not rough, not forceful, just firm enough to stop her in place. She looked up, brows furrowing in confusion, but the look in his eyes made her pause. “Ain’t about that.” He said quietly, his voice still thick, still warm, but full of something deeper. He squeezed her fingers, rubbing slow circles into the back of her hand. “You just came down from somethin’ real intense, darlin’. I just wanna hold you right now.”

She blinked at him, caught off guard by his words, by the tenderness in them. “Terry, I—”

“I know.” He gave her a small, lazy smile, shifting so he could pull her closer against him. “We got time for all that. Just… let me have this. Let me have you right here in this exact moment. We might not ever get it again.”

And the way he said it, like holding her in his arms was just as much of a pleasure as anything else, sent something warm through her chest. The way he already planned for this to be something more made her body flutter in a way only he can make happen. She sighed, settling against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “That’s my good girl.” He said before placing a kiss on her warm skin.

And with that, they stayed there, tangled up in each other, letting the night stretch out slow and easy.

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[neptilius]

MR.STEALYOURGIRL

synopsis; satoru gojo takes his role as your work husband seriously

cw ; unprotected , p in v, pussy eating, cheating, probably spelling errors, minors dni!!!

“no phones we aint even gotta talk”

being satoru's work-wife while you have a whole husband at home was a blessing and a curse. you knew what you were getting yourself into and the consequences that would follow but what doesn't help, is when he forgets his place. all the times he almost got you caught up without a care in the world if your husband found out how he fucks you like an animal in heat during your lunch breaks, business dinners, when you stay after hours to make 'deadlines’. he wants you all to himself and you don't miss the dark look in his eyes every time you tell him to back off when its time for you to go home to your husband.

he doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t know how to please you the way satoru does, hell he doesnt even eat pussy…he doesn’t take the time to buy you flowers or even pretend he’s interested in the things you like anymore. you were emotionally checked out and couldn’t find the so called love you had for your husband anymore and it didn’t take much for you to call satoru over the second your husband left for his work trip overseas.

“fuck your so pretty,” he groaned in your ear softly nibbling on your helix as he rubbed his thumb over your right nipple through your thin nightgown and grinding his clothed erection on your sopping cunt.

“toru’ need you so bad.” you mewled at the way he rolled his hips into you. eagerly grazing your manicured nails over his abs.

“gotta prep you first sweetheart.” he moved to the edge of the bed and pulled you down by your ankles to meet him. strong arms pushing your thighs apart as he littered kisses on your hard clit earning soft moans from you.

he glanced up at you, cerulean eyes glazed over with lust. “look at you already falling apart for me, sweetheart. it’s like your body knows who it belongs to.” pressing a french kiss to your mound, making your breath hitch.

“toru…” you whimpered , hips involuntarily bucking against his face.

“patience, baby. gotta take my time with you. can’t have you thinking he ever had a chance.”

the mention of your husband sending a wave of anxiety through your stomach; but it dissipated the moment satoru’s tongue slipped into your entrance, curling and flicking in ways that had your toes curling.

your head fell back against the comforter under you, fingers threaded in his white locks as he devoured you like a starved man. he didnt let up, sucking and licking until your thighs trembled around his head, the obscene wet sounds filling the room.

“fuck, toru- gonna-“ you start but was cut off by the waves of pleasure that surged through your body, leaving you breathless and arching off the bed.

he pulled back just enough to watch you , his chin glistening with your juices as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “thats my girl. so fucking perfect for me.”

without missing a beat, he stood up, unbuckling his belt. his cock strained against his boxers, the outline making your mouth water.

“lemme remind you why you don’t need anyone but me.” he murmured, leaning down to press a sear kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on him.

pulling his boxers down to free himself , your breath hitched at the sight of him—thick, long, and already leaking for you. he gripped the base, teasing the tip along your still-sensitive folds, spreading your slick over his length with a low groan.

“look at you, sweetheart. always so ready for me,” he muttered, his voice rough and dripping with desire. he leaned down, capturing your lips in another deep kiss as he slowly pushed into you, stretching you inch by inch until he bottomed out.

a choked moan escaped your throat, your fingers digging into his biceps as he held still for a moment, savoring the way your walls clenched around him. “fuck, you feel so good… better than i remembered,” he hissed, pulling back slightly before thrusting back in, making you cry out.

just as the rhythm of his hips picked up, your phone buzzed on the nightstand. the sound made your eyes snap open, heart pounding as you reached for it, but satoru caught your wrist, pinning it above your head.

“leave it,” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear as he thrust into you harder, making the bed creak beneath you.

“i-i can’t,” you stammered, your voice breathy and trembling. “it’s… my husband.”

his movements stilled for a moment, a dark grin spreading across his face as he glanced at the glowing screen. “perfect timing. answer it.”

“what?” you whispered, panic and arousal swirling in your chest.

“you heard me,” he said, leaning down to nip at your collarbone. “answer it. let’s see how good you are at pretending.”

the phone buzzed again, the vibrations seeming louder in the tense silence. with a shaky hand, you grabbed it, swiping to answer and bringing it to your ear. “h-hello?” you managed, your voice uneven.

“hey, beautiful ,” your husband’s voice came through the line, warm and unsuspecting. “just wanted to check in on you. how’s everything at home?”

satoru smirked, shifting his hips to thrust into you slowly, dragging along your walls in a way that made it nearly impossible to hold back a moan. your free hand flew to his shoulder, nails digging in as you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

“it’s… fine,” you lied, your voice strained as you tried to keep it steady. “everything’s fine. h-how’s your trip?”

“it’s good,” your husband replied, oblivious to the way satoru was rocking into you now, his thrusts deep and deliberate. “just busy, you know how it is. i miss you, though.”

your breath hitched as satoru leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “tell him you miss him too,” he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement.

“i… i miss you too,” you choked out, your eyes squeezing shut as you fought to keep your composure.

satoru chuckled softly, his pace quickening as he angled his hips to hit that spot that made you see stars. you bit down on your knuckle, desperate to muffle the sounds threatening to escape.

“i’ll be home in a few days,” your husband continued, his tone cheerful. “we should plan a date night or something, just the two of us.”

“y-yeah,” you stammered, your voice trembling as your body tensed beneath satoru’s relentless thrusts. “that… sounds s-so good.”

satoru’s hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles that sent shockwaves through your body. your legs trembled as you struggled to hold back the orgasm building deep in your core.

“well, i won’t keep you,” your husband said. “just wanted to hear your voice. i love you.”

satoru’s grin widened as he mouthed the words, say it back.

“i… i love you too,” you whispered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue as satoru thrust into you one last time, sending you over the edge.

you barely managed to hang up before the phone slipped from your hand, your body shaking with the force of your release. satoru didn’t stop, riding out your orgasm with a smug look on his face.

“good girl,” he purred, leaning down to kiss you softly. “you did so well.”

the phone lay forgotten on the nightstand as he flipped you over onto your stomach, pressing his chest to your back. “now, let’s see how long it takes for you to forget all about him.”

[cherryblossom-heart]

I hate you (11.5/12)

modern!Sukuna x Reader

Everything crumbles apart.

Content Warning: ANGST, torture (be warned, it's a little graphic) blood, kill attempts, violence, murder (not of main character), a lot of choking and stabbing. SMUT (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, oral sex [f receiving], penetrative sex, asphyxiation, sub? Sukuna, they a little kinky) like a quarter of it is just smut so seriously, minors dni. Mahito is his own warning. Not proofread. I am not a native English speaker so please do forgive all the spelling mistakes or grammatical errors 😔

W.C. 9.1k (yeah, sorry about that haha)

A/N: Hi besties! So here we are, finally after weeks I finished. I really hope you guys like it, also don't hate me. I already had this in mind before I even decided on the second season haha. Also be warned, smut is in no way my area of expertise so be prepared for a very mid sex scene but my shaylas deserved it after everything they've gone through haha.

<Previous Chapter. Next Chapter>

“Stop! Please!” you wailed, the hoarse scream rasping your throat raw.

Smack

“Please!” you kept trying, tears falling below you.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Uraume’s cough came out strangled as they struggled to keep breathing. After a few failed attempts, blood came out of their mouth. They’re eyes opened wide as a kick nocked them down to their side.

Your screams had started loud, threats of death and other corporeal punishments coming out of your mouth, as if somehow you could scare them into stopping. After forty minutes of watching multiple punches fall in your siblings body, their hands tied to their back, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You tried bargaining, asking if there was anything you could give them, anything they wanted, just so they would stop but they ignored you.

Uraume had started strong, dodging a few couple of punches, moving swiftly even with their hands immobilized however human stamina could only last for so long. After the fifth punch to the side of the head their stability had dwindled, not longer after that they had collapsed.

Now you pleaded, begged them to stop hurting your only family left alive.

You weren’t sure why you were doing it anymore.

You had nothing left in you. There was no point.

Uraume was going to die. You were too, probably.

Your bodies thrown in a ditch somewhere if you were lucky. Or probably dissolved in acid or burned, whatever left less evidence.

Or maybe you would be chopped into pieces, sent as a message.

You guess you had lied to Sukuna when you promised you would keep your shit together.

Sukuna.

You promised you would trust him.

You did.

I never took you for a weakling.

Snap out of it, brat.

Snap out of it.

Snap.

Out.

Of.

It.

Now.

A wail different than the others came out of your throat, different enough to catch the attention of Uraume’s assailants, their heads snapping in your direction. Confusion washed as they kept listening, your head trembling as you continued. It took them a couple of seconds, nevertheless they heard it. A laugh. A cackle. Tears came down your face as you gasped for air, your howls making your sides hurt.

The man that held Uraume’s body dropped them on the floor.

They came to you, but your laughter didn’t dwindle. You weren’t even looking at them, your body shaking with laughter

Smack.

You fell to the floor.

“What the fuck is so fucking funny?”

You wiped blood off the corner of your mouth, your lungs slowly filling with air as your cackles had ceased. Sukuna might have been the first one to see it, the delicate film that made you seem ordinary, but that was all it was. A cover. A wall that you displayed so you could hide the darkness you kept buried inside.

“You.”

Smack.

“You don’t know who you messed with, do you?”

Laughter. Crazy, bone chilling laughter.

Uraume’s skin grew goosebumps even when she was in the verge of passing out.

“Leave her alone, she’s already going crazy.”

You didn’t have anything to hide anymore. There was no point in keeping appearances.

If you were going to die, you would do it in your own terms.

“I’m not the one you should be worried about.” You kept feeding the fire, sure that another hit would come. “A blocked number and a pathetic little hiding house in the middle of nowhere is not going to stop him. There’s a reason why your old boss is dead.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“He’s going to kill all of you, and I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

“Gag her before I end up killing her.”

Your words were muffled against the rag they had stuffed in your mouth, your eyes told everything you couldn’t. The same bubbling desire of blood and pain absorbed you, just like that it had taken over your body that night.

You trusted Sukuna would come get you, however the longer your mind unraveled you weren’t sure you wouldn’t kill them before he had a chance to even try.

---

“What the fuck do you mean you no one knows where they are?” Sukunas voice rumbled inside Toji’s empty bar, his destructive path causing a couple of Toji’s wooden chairs to be destroyed.

“I called every old contact I could think of. No one knows where they might be hiding.” Toji answered, smoke coming out of his nose as he exhaled his nicotine.

Sukuna’s mind raced with every possible scenario currently happening to Uraume and you. Even if he was sure Uraume could withstand anything they tried throwing her way, he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering the same treatment. His mind wouldn’t quiet down, repeating scenario over and over again.

Torture.

Your eyes filled with happiness as you lifted Yuji in the air, his nephew’s giggle matching yours as you held onto the toddler, kissing his forehead.

Rape.

The faint noise of your breathing filled the room. Your eyes, even as they were closed, moved side to side, dreams filling your sleep. His fingers brushed your cheek and he thanked the night skies you were asleep so you couldn’t watch the tenderness in his eyes as he kissed your skin.

Murder.

“You ever going to teach me how to shoot a gun?” You snatched his phone out of his hands, throwing it to the single couch next to you.

Sukuna, short tempered as always, opened his mouth to protest your actions but you were quicker than him, you pushed him, making him lay back. You climbed on top of him, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips as you mounted him.

He loved when you did that. He really enjoyed feeling your body against his as you looked down at him. You always looked at him and he felt like art was supposed to make him feel.

“Why do you want to learn?” He placed his face in the middle of your chest, his hands gripping and squeezing the skin of your ass.

“In case I need to defend myself.”

“Why would you need to do that when I’m right here?”

Toji hadn’t called everyone he could, he was sure of that. There was still one man that could know where you were being held.

“Call Naoya.”

Toji’s jaw hardened at the name.

“No.”

Sukuna grabbed him by his collar, smashing him against the wall.

“I won’t ask again. Call him or your little runt turns into an orphan.”

A battle of wills ensued, an immovable object against an unstoppable force. Red versus emerald. Sukuna was fueled with his usual anger, boiling inside as the pressure to let it out intensified. Toji wasn’t scared of that, he had seen his fair share of crazy psychotic assholes, after all he grew up with them. The longer they faced, Toji noticed something he hadn’t seen before on Sukuna.

Desperation.

His actions, his threats, his relentlessness. They were all desperate actions. For the first time in a long time Sukuna feared something.

He remembered loving someone like that once.

“Fine.”

Toji took out his phone, searching through his contacts so slowly Sukuna almost shot him and took the phone himself.

“Don’t make any deals with the Zenin’s.” The dark-haired man warned him, his voice rumbling with hatred as he pronounced the last name he had left behind.

“I’m not a fucking idiot, Fushiguro.”

“I’m just warning you, kid. Whatever is that they can offer you, you’ll end up paying tenfold.”

Sukuna knew he was right. You didn’t make a deal with the Zenin’s without risking it going south. He was making a deal with the devil, a mistake he promised he would never make.

None of it mattered. Not when you weren’t by his side safe, away from the world he lived in.

“Call him.”

---

You were thrown to the ground, your knees scraping for what it seemed like the hundredth time. Someone walked around you, their footsteps amplified in your perception as the bag that covered your head left you in complete darkness.

A hand grabbed the bag, freeing you from it. A man, young enough to still look in his twenties, with light blue hair and different colored eyes looked down at you. His smile sent shivers down your spine.

What was he so happy about?

It took your eyes getting used to the light to see them. Scars. Thick, long scars ran across his body, even cutting through his right eye. You were sure he noticed the them as you saw his sinister smile growing wider

“You like the design? I can make one on you.” He spoke, his voice rumbling from within his chest.

He was trying to scare you.

“I rather improve yours. I have a couple of ideas I’m dying to try on you.”

He chuckled, almost as if he found you adorable.

The man grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks as he forced you to look at him. His eyes searched for something, fear perhaps, he could use against you. Your body shook like a leaf, the adrenaline in your veins pumping so strongly you wondered if you could die of an overdose of it. He let go of your face, roughly pushing it away.

“So, you’re Sukunas new toy, huh?”

Silence.

 “You don’t have to answer, I went through all your conversations and phew you guys are a little freaky huh?” He took out your phone from his pocket, typing in the password and unlocking it. “He fucked someone on your bed? And you made him drive you so you could fuck another guy?” He scrolled around your phone, searching for something. “If I was him, I would’ve already put you down like the bitch you are.”

He played around your phone, switching between apps until he finally got what he was searching for.

“But Sukuna has always been a man I can’t fully understand. Instead of teaching you a lesson, he brings you to his family.”

The man turned your phone to you. A picture displayed on the screen of Jin, Choso, Yuji, Sukuna, Watsuke, Uraume and you. You held little Yuji in your arms squeezing your cheek against his while Jin and Choso laughed. Watsuke and Uraume’s face held a frown in the background of the picture, their reaction to you asking them to smile. Even though Sukunas face held the same frown, there was a small glint of tenderness in his eyes as he looked at you, his hands barely visible in the picture as he held onto your waist.

You loved that picture.

“Cute kid.” The stranger said as he turned the phone back. “Maybe I should pay him a visit. He looks like he would be a cute pet.”

Tick

“If you touch that kid you’re going to have bigger problems to fix than a few little scars your daddy gave you, you disgusting monster-looking-like freak.”

The man smiled. His sinister grin grew bigger, almost taking over his whole face.

“I don’t think you understand what’s going on.” He leaned closer, his breath hitting your face. You thanked the universe he at least seemed competent with a toothbrush. “Uraume is going to die. We’ll send Sukuna a little parting gift, I’m thinking a head maybe. After I’m done with you, I’m going to go kill everyone in your little picture, starting with the old man.”

He grabbed your throat, a gasp coming out of your lips as he slammed you on the floor.

“Maybe I should turn you into my pet instead. There has to be a reason why he keeps you around, right?”

His hands pressed harder on your throat, your hands pulling tighter behind your back to try to get yourself free. Everything you did was unsuccessful.

“When I found out Sukuna had a girl, I thought you were some cheap slut he fucked more than once.”

He pressed harder and your heart began hammering against your ribcage. It was almost as if a switch had turn on where your body fought with its natural instincts to get air inside your lungs. You pulled and pulled, the zip ties digging in your skin but the burning sensation felt like nothing compared to the burning of your lungs, clawing at the last particles of oxygen left in them.

“I pretty much was right, until I saw what he did to the men we sent after you.” His body pressed against yours and you felt as if not even the world swallowing you whole would never erase that sensation. “Imagine my surprise when I found out you were that white haired bitch’s sister, I didn’t even know she had a sister.”

Your vision began turning black, dark specks appearing before your eyes. His fingers kept putting pressure on your throat and you wondered whether you were going to die of asphyxiation or a collapsed trachea, both of them equally as bad. The pressure inside your head made you feel as if was about to explode, with each passing second the constriction on your airways driving dangerously close to unconsciousness.

You couldn’t afford that.

Your brain was running out of oxygen, and you knew the longer it kept going the worse it would be for you. The words that came out of his mouth weren’t words any more, just quiet whispers your brain couldn’t comprehend.

“… kill you…”

“… he’ll cry for you?...”

“… enjoy this…”

You felt him, his body going on top of you, right above your knee. You weren’t even sure you would hit in the right place but you took your chance. He may look like a monster yet he had the same weak spot as any regular man.

A groan left his lips, and your lungs could finally breathe again.

“You fucking cunt.”

Your vision cleared up but was instantly replaced by dizziness, your eyes unable to focus on the tilting floor. You tried standing up unsuccessfully, you fell down immediately as you still gasped for the air that was missing inside you.

“…Fuck…you… you balless freak!”

He recovered faster than you thought, his body slamming against yours, knocking you both to the floor again. He wasn’t fully ready, his legs tripping with themselves as he reached for you. You kicked and kicked but his body was too heavy, his legs pressing yours down.

“I’m going to fucking kill you, you fucking bitch.” He yelled to your face.

You had seen it in the movies, and you always figured it hurt like a bitch. You weren’t past any amount of pain just to stop him from putting his hands around your throat again. With what little strength you had left in you, you tucked down your chin and slammed your forehead as hard as you could against his face.

Crack.

“You bitch!” He screamed, blood pooling out of his nose.

Your forehead ached and you were sure it would swell like an egg after the hit but the crimson liquid coming from him fueled your drive. The dizziness had almost cleared out as the pure adrenaline that pumped through your veins made you more alert, almost as if everything was happening in slow motion.

The door busted open, a few men coming in. It didn’t take them long before they pinned you to the floor, your face smushed against dirty floor.

“Try it again, bitch boy! I’ll fucking kill you!” You screamed like a mad woman.

The grey-haired man pulled a butterfly knife, lunging forward before being caught by his own men.

“Don’t do it, Mahito. We need her.”

Mahito.

The name was now burned in your brain.

“Maybe.” He looked down to you, the hemorrhage still going as droplets of his blood fell right next to your head. “We don’t need Uraume, though. Bring her to me.”

Tick.

“You fucking touch them and I’ll fucking kill you, you understand? I’ll gut you like the fucking low life amoeba you ar– “

Crack.

You felt the pain in your nose before you understood what had happened. His foot had made contact with your nose, most likely breaking it as your nose also began bleeding uncontrollably. Pain spread through your face; it’s sting somehow reaching your eyes.

“Tie her up to that pipe. And bring me my stuff, I’m going to have fun with them.”

---

“So, are you sure about this?” Toji asked Sukuna one last time as he closed down his trunk.

“It’s better if I go alone.” He answered as he closed his jacket, a balaclava covering his face. “I rather take them by surprise, makes it easier.”

Toji sighed. “Whatever you say, kid.” He walked to the front of the car, taking something out of the glove box. “Here.”

A gun.

A revolver to be precise.

“It never hurts to carry extra protection.”

“Sure.” Sukuna grabbed the gun, stashing it in his pocket. “Don’t fucking take off unless I say so, got it?”

“Whatever you say.”

He took a look around, a sea of trees covered in the moonlight except for a faint yellow light source that he could spot at the distance. Mahito had found himself a decent safe house.

“Sukuna,” Toji called for him. He turned around, the rage and anger boiling inside his eyes the longer the anticipation lasted. “You know this doesn’t end with Mahito, right? As long as she’s with you and you’re in all this shit, this will always end up catching up to her.”

“Fuck you.” Sukuna spat, venom lacing both words.

“Take it from someone who learned the hard way.” The green-eyed man shrugged.

For a fraction of a second the cool, cocky yet hardened persona Toji always displayed was gone and Sukuna saw pain he had never seen before. Toji’s eyes aged decades, as if he relived it over and over again ever since his wife died.

He never asked how she had died and now he didn’t have to.

But Sukuna wasn’t like him. He wasn’t weak like him. And you weren’t like his wife.

He could protect you. You could protect yourself if it came to it.

“Wait for us here.”

---

Red.

The floor was painted red.

You weren’t even sure whose blood was it anymore.

Maybe it was Uraume’s, deep cuts running down their body as Mahito laughed every time he made them.

Maybe it was yours, you were sure your nose was broken. Or maybe it was the cuts on your cheeks from every punch Mahito gave you.

Or perhaps it was from Mahito’s nose, after all you had taken your chances and had given him a second headbutt to the nose when he had been stupid enough to get close again.

Whoever’s it was, you were sure your dreams would be scarlet now. Or at least until you could finally sink a knife in Mahito’s heart.

Mahito. What a ridiculous name.

“Don’t tell me that’s all you have? What happened to the big scary bitch that’s always up Sukunas ass?”

Uraume spat to the floor, blood and saliva dribbling down their chin.

“I’m just letting you get a couple of hits in; it would be too boring killing you right away.”

Mahito’s knife carved its way across Uraume’s clavicle, its sharp end denting against the bone itself. Uraume wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of listening their screams though, instead opting just for loud grunting that felt too unsatisfactory for Mahito.

You pulled on the plastic that kept you tied in place, scraping it against the edge of the pipe that felt a little too rough. Your hands moved back and forth trying to strip away the zip ties.

“You know when Jogo told me about working with you guys, I thought he was crazy. A couple of low life thugs working on an operation so big? I thought I would have to kill you before you ruined everything.” He laughed to himself, looking back to Uraume. “I mean, I’m still going to kill you, just for different reasons.” He placed his blade on Uraume’s left cheek, only deep enough to leave a small cut. “Anyways, I couldn’t believe him when he said you guys were working behind our backs, trying to take a part of our operation for yourselves. He said he was going to keep you in a leash. We all know how that turned out.”

Uraume laughed, their low voice rumbling within the walls.

“He died as pathetically as he lived. Just like you will.”

Shivers traveled down your spine, seeing your sibling in a new light. You didn’t know this Uraume, perhaps for a very good reason, and they scared you. A part of your brain screaming to stay out of their way.

Mahito traced another long slash, this time across their eyebrow, blood pouring out of the gash.

“You ungrateful bastard” The gray-haired man spat, his long fingers squeezing Uraume’s face. “You are nothing but vermin at the bottom of the barrel, you understand? With out us, you and your owner would’ve stayed nothing.”

Uraume spat on his face, blood and saliva splashing Mahito’s face.

“Suck my dick.”

He stopped, nothing moving but his eyes as his hold on Uraume’s face became painfully stronger. For a moment you wondered if this was it, if that blade that had cause so many slashes on them would finally pierce their heart.

Shooting.

A single shot was heard before a commotion unraveled downstairs. Guns firing caught everyone’s attention, their deep echo bouncing around the almost empty house. You didn’t have to be a genius to know who the author of all the ruckus was.

“It looks to me you’re out of time, Mahito.”

Fear flashed over his eyes for a second, a sea of thoughts running through his mind.

“I’m going to enjoy watching you beg for your life.”

A smile, terrifying as always, took over Mahito’s face.

“Too bad you won’t be here to see it.”

It all happened so fast.

Mahito had grabbed his knife, ready to pierce it through Uraume’s chest.

Your zip ties snapped, freeing your wrist from their painful hold.

You launched at him, milliseconds before he could kill them, knocking him down on the floor with you.

---

Sukunas eyes burned with anger and adrenaline, a psychotic look hanging around his semblance. He didn’t care about enjoying the kill, he didn’t care about the terror in the persons eyes just as they realized there wasn’t a way to kill him. Nothing could kill him not until he could finally see you, safe and away from all this bullshit.

He couldn’t remember how many people were on the ground or how he had been discovered, he couldn’t remember whose blood lingered in his hands, pooling as his knife dug deeper and deeper in the man’s stomach. He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t you.

A scream.

A scream different from the men that met their fate at his hands

A commotion.

A commotion different from the one of a man being gutted right in front of his friends.

A loud thud.

A loud thud, the same as the bodies falling in front of him.

He had to reach you.

He had to find you.

A bullet grazed his arm, leaving a gash in its path. Sukuna, perhaps for the first time, was glad he had talked to Toji, taking out the revolver the green-eyed man had given him. One single shot and the insignificant life of the man that had dared to shoot at him had ended.

Yes, Sukuna was glad that Toji had given him the revolver, and that he still had four bullets left.

---

Mahito’s hand had dropped the knife in the tussle, landing next to Uraume however not close enough for them to reach for it. You had managed to put yourself on top of him, your knees digging on his arms as you pinned him to the floor.

Your fist had made contact on his nose again and again, and when he had turned his face, a feeble attempt to stop the hits from landing, you had punched him anywhere you could. Eye, cheek, mouth, anything you could land a hit on.

You hated him.

You wanted to kill him.

You were going to kill him.

You were careless though. Your rage had blinded you enough to not notices how you had begun to lean forward, your weight not fulling resting on his arms but his chest.

His left hand freed itself.

His fingers dug on your hair, grabbing a fistful of it as he pulled you off him.

Your body landed on the floor with a loud thud, your elbow taking the brunt of the fall. You tried standing up however it didn’t take long for Mahito to take his payback. Long fingers found their place against your throat once again, pressing down on your air supply.

A punch came first.

Then another.

And another.

“I should’ve taken care of you first, you filthy whore.”

Uraume’s leg desperately stretched as far as it could, fighting to try to grab the knife and free themselves from their restraints. For the first time ever since they got the news about their parent’s deaths, fear crossed Uraume’s heart, drowning them in despair as the only thing they could do was watch you take hit after hit.

Between hits and dizziness you spotted the knife, inches away from your reach. You reached out for it, your arm aching as your muscles ripped apart trying to save your life.

Your siblings shoe made contact with the blade, pushing it towards you.

Ever since that night, you had wondered what it would feel like. Taking away someone’s life, chewing away their hopes as you watched emptiness filling their eyes. You wondered if you would enjoy it. You wondered if it would ignite something in you that should terrify you.

What you weren’t expecting was the fear, the fatal realization that they were going to die. You weren’t expecting how much you would enjoy it.

The blade touched his neck, sliding from side to side in a quick motion as blood poured down like a crimson waterfall. The liquid was warm once it touched your skin, covering your face as Mahito got off you, his hands trying to stop the hemorrhage.

He backed away, choking sounds coming from his throat as he fought to stay alive and his lungs filled with blood. Now his fingers were wrapped around his own throat. You pushed him to the floor, positioning yourself on top of him once again.

You couldn’t stop.

Each stab after the other begging you to keep going.

You couldn’t stop.

Uraume’s bloodied face invading your mind, their body twitching on the floor as you could only plead for them to stop.

You couldn’t stop.

Memories of that night playing over and over again, all because of him. You remembered the way they talked, their smell, their strength once they had gotten their paws all over you.

Because.

Of.

Him.

You couldn’t stop.

Because you didn’t want to stop.

Uraume called your name softly, like they would do when you were five and mom and dad had gotten in a screaming match in the living room while Uraume tried to calm you down as they sang a lullaby.

The door busted open, making both of your heads snapping towards it. A man in a balaclava came in, absorbing the scene in front of him. You didn’t give him time to react, your hand already driving the knife to the guy’s body.

He was fast, dodging your murder attempt almost immediately. You kept trying, the adrenaline of the previous fight still in you, causing him to wrap his arms around you. Your arms still flinging the blade around, trying to strike him. He suffocated you.

“Get the fuck off me! I’ll fucking kill–“

“Stop. It’s me.” He yelled as he forced your arms down. Your body kept fighting, this time with wariness as you absorbed his voice. “It’s me.”

You stopped fighting, his left hand caressing your face as he made you look at him.

Carmine eyes.

Sukuna took off his cover, panicked eyes washing over the red mask along your skin.

“What the fuck happened to you?”

You couldn’t answer, your body suddenly limp. You couldn’t talk, you couldn’t move, everything crashing in slow motion.

“Hey, look at me. Are you hurt?”

His fingers touched your nose, the pain making you flinch.

“Say something” he yelled.

“I’m fine.” Your voice trembled, finally being able to speak. “Get Uraume.”

“You­–“

“Get them. Please.”

Sukuna took a second, his eyes falling in your bruised face and gash covering your nose. He looked behind you, Mahito’s body laying still in a pool of its own blood. He saw Uraume’s body, tiredly looking at him as they looked at you, the sadness in their eyes almost compared to his own.

His eyes connected with yours, the shock still deep rooted in you.

One single tear fell from your face, trying to wash away consequences this had on you.

---

Sukunas hands trailed figures along your body while you slept, his eyes traveling amongst every bruise, every cut, every injury you displayed. Even with Shoko’s hands and hard work there were going to be scars left in your body, along with the ones already engraved in your soul.

After Shoko had left you took a shower, washing away every trace of Mahito you still had on you. The shower floor had turned red for a couple of seconds before being washed away by the clean water falling.

It had been exactly four hours and twenty-seven minutes since you had fallen asleep, heavy exhaling and occasional groaning being the only noises in the room. He had tried to sleep as well, only to be met by immense anxiety as soon as his closed his eyes, his mind replaying your crazed frenzy against Mahito’s dead body.

He stood up, taking a trip to the kitchen to grab a beer. Maybe alcohol could help find some sleep.

Uraume laid in the couch, stitches covering their body along with an arm sling. Sukuna saw their eyes closed, assuming they had passed out as well. He grabbed a beer from the fridge, twisting the cap and throwing it to the trash bin.

Sukuna felt he had aged ten years in the span of a day.

He took a sip from his beer, the familiar piss-like taste welcoming him with open arms. Maybe a couple of Xanax would also help.

“Can’t sleep?”

Uraume’s voice startled him.

“Yeah.”

Sukuna downed his first drink, throwing the bottle away before grabbing two more. He made his way to Uraume, sitting next to them.

“How are you doing?” He passed one of the bottles to them.

They shrugged. “Been better.”

Sukuna chuckled.

“Yeah, can’t say I’ve seen you worse.”

Uraume playfully punched him in the arm.

“Thanks for nothing by the way. My little sister had to be the one saving my ass.”

“Not my fault you two pissed him off enough for him to try to kill you. Now you know how I feel when you two can’t stop bitching.”

“Fuck you.”

Both of them laughed, sinking further into the couch.

It was almost as if nothing had happened.

Almost.

Uraume’s laugh died down, their eyes locking in the bottle they held in their hands.

“You know this isn’t done, right? If Mahito knew about us, all of them know. Jogo, Mahito, Dagon, Hanami. All of them know.”

“I know.”

That was exactly what he feared. There were risks he had taken when he had accepted to work with them, after all drug distribution and money laundering never came without its own terms and conditions. They had also taken risks when they had planned on join them just to take a bigger chunk of money than they were promised.

How stupid had they been. He hadn’t thought about what could happen to the people surrounding them. Sukuna had always been careful to never give information about himself, as Uraume had also done. But things never go to plan, do they? Something was bound to catch up and you had been in the destruction radius.

“We have to kill them. All of them.” Uraume whispered.

“I know.”

Their hand gripped his forearm.

“We have to leave her behind.”

Sukuna began to argue back. “I–“

“Listen to me.” They turned, eyes cold as ice. “You didn’t see her there. You didn’t see what this did to her. It changed her.” Every word came through gritted teeth. “Everything that happened to her was because of us. We are the ones that broke her.”

“Fuck off, you know that’s not true.”

“Stop lying to yourself. If she wasn’t my sister, if you weren’t following her around like a lost puppy, nothing would’ve ever happened to her.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

 Sukuna’s words came hard like the barrier he tried to put to Uraume’s reasoning.

“You know I’m right. The more we drag her along into this, the worse she’ll end up paying for it. Is that what you want? For her life to be completely ruined?”

“Sukuna?” Your voice cut through the hallway, sleepiness seeping through.

“Go back to sleep.”

You mumbled something back, too low for them to understand but he knew you were probably struggling to fall back asleep without him. Uraume had successfully ruined his chances to fall asleep as they had also ruined his drink. He stood up, dropping the remaining liquid in the sink before going on his way.

“Sukuna,” they called. With his hands turned into fists, he faced them. “If you care about her as half as I think you do then you know I’m right. The longer we wait, the further Hanami and Dagon go.”

He exhaled, his fingers pinching his nose.

“I–“

“Sukuna?”

Your voice, calling him like a siren in the sea making his heart leap as if he was a teenager again. He hated how you had that effect on him.

He gave Uraume one last look over the shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it later.”

—-

“God, you’re such a fucking bitch.”

“Yeah, at least I’m not a cunt like you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, fuck you.”

A screaming match woke Sukuna up. Your voice mixed with Uraume’s in a battle that made his temples pulse. His eyes opened to the darkness of his room but somehow that made the screaming seem louder. He kicked the covers away, his usual bad temper worsened now that he had been waken up so abruptly.

“You’re a fucking idiot if you think­–“

“What the fuck is going on?” Sukuna came in roaring in anger into the kitchen. Uraume and you stood behind the bar, tension surrounding you.

You turned to him, your jaw tight. “Uraume here is telling me you guys are thinking dipping. And that you’re leaving me behind.”

“It’s for your own good.”

“What the fuck would you know what’s good for me or not?”

“If you stopped to think for five seconds you–“

“Oh, fuck you and your five seconds you–“

“Enough!” He screamed, once again. This time it was ineffective, only gaining your attention for five seconds.

“Why can’t you understand this is what’s best for you?” Uraume asked, frustrated already with your stubbornness.

“Because is not! You both want to leave me here and I’m supposed to what?” You ask, words barely coming out through your gritted teeth. “Just stay here, all by myself while you guys are out there getting yourselves killed?”

“That’s exactly why you can’t come, you idiot!”

In all his time knowing them, Sukuna had never heard Uraume scream like that. It was a tone usually parents used, the typical scolding a kid got whenever they misbehaved or broke something. Uraume never used it, not in front of him at least, and only then he had truly seen how much they always tried to protect you.

And surprisingly, their words affected you just like they would a child.

Tears began pooling on your eyes, you opened your mouth to say something, but the words never came out, dying in your throat as you turned around to take some air.

You finally looked at Uraume, carefully holding them by their shoulders. “You are the only family I have left, the only person in my life I can always count on. I can’t let you leave.” Your voice broke yet you kept going. “When mom died you promised me you would always be there for me, and now you want to leave me? You promised I would never be alone. I can’t do this without you.”

Uraume’s cold, icy stare melted away with every word you said. Their mind traveled back many years, when the cops had come knocking on the door, asking for an adult. Uraume, with barely seventeen years of life, had to be the one to break the news to you.

The same scared sad eyes stared at them and Uraume’s heart broke all over again.

“You are strong, you’ve always been. You don’t need me anymore, I think you never have.” Uraume took a deep breath. “I promised I would always protect you so no matter how much you beg, you’re not coming.”

The argument started back again, this time with tears in your eyes as you cussed Uraume with every name in the book, them answering right back with different packaged insults.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sukuna walked to the counter, tossing his keys to his friend. “Take a fucking ride or something. Cool off.”

Uraume open their mouth to protest but the words died once their eyes met, Sukunas stare warning them against it.

“Whatever.” They scoffed as they left.

Once Uraume had smashed the door shot Sukuna walked to you, his arms engulfing you in a tight hug. You desperately tried to wipe away the tears, almost as if you were embarrassed of it.

“Hey,” His left hand lifted your face. “Calm down.”

“You can’t fucking go. You can’t fucking leave me.” Your words were going a hundred miles an hour, as if time was running out to convince him. “I know Uraume doesn’t want me to go but fuck them, I know you’re the one that always gets the last word in. Don’t let them do it, please.”

“Brat–”

“I can’t have more people leave me. I can’t, Sukuna.”

“I’m not going to leave you.” He tried to appease you, unsuccessfully.

“You don’t get to do this.” You shook your head, pushing him away from you. “You can’t just make me care about you, worry about you. You don’t get to make me get used to you. You don’t get to make me miss you.”

“Stop rambling.” He tried to touch you and you slapped his hands away.

“You don’t get to make me love you and just leave me behind.”

Sukunas world stopped. The air inside his lungs, the thoughts inside his mind, the blood running through his veins, everything stopped.

It wasn’t the first time he heard those words. Several times the women that kept him company had confused his carnal interest for affectionate, they were always met with the same indifference that broke their hearts. He just moved on to the next one. This time, he couldn’t explain what he felt. Happiness? Fear? Joy? Whatever it was, it crashed into him. Two words and his life had changed forever.

You both stood there, looking at each other as you both tried to digest what you had said.

It had slipped out of your mouth, the panic and fear stopping any restraints you put on your own thoughts. Sukuna had always been right about you, you never looked for serious relationship, keeping your heart guarded behind the distance you always kept with people. Even with Uraume, you couldn’t remember the last time you had told them you loved them. It didn’t really matter, you knew they knew how you felt about them.

But Sukuna was different. You couldn’t stand him, you had told him so many times you hated him the word was meaningless at this point, nothing but a playful jab you had between each other.

Mutual hate was easy to express, easy to deal with.

Love terrified you.

Love paralyzed you.

Love hurt you.

Yet you were still willing to love him.

Sukuna’s eyes widen and you were ready to backtrack, ready to apologize and pretend nothing had happened. Erase the memory off your mind by locking it away with the rest of painful memories you had, only remembering it at night when the hurt hit the most, only when you were alone.

He surprised you, yet again.

“I love you too.”

His lips crashed into yours, desperately seeking your taste. His hands traveled across your body, despite his carnal hunger he still was cautious, his touch turning lighter when he got close to a bruised area.

You kissed him back, your hands wrapping along his neck. Your fingers dug thorugh his hair as you pushed him closer to you, even though you were already skin to skin. You wanted to be closer to him to a molecular level, your bodies entwined as one and maybe then you would be satisfied.

His hands groped at the skin of your thighs, his feral instincts coming out again. After a light pull your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands cupping your ass as he guided you back to his room.

You had played this song and dance many times before. Clothes would usually come off before hitting the bedroom, leaving a trail behind to the obscene noises that came out of his room. There was always a level of desperation from both of you, neither could wait until finally feeling each other as Sukuna pulled noises from you that no one could before.

It was always the same routine. Except, this time he took his time.

He placed you on his bed, kissing every inch of your body he could. His t-shirt had been thrown to the other side of the bedroom, leaving your body only covered by a pair of red underwear.

Sukunas lips traveled below along your stomach and thighs, each touch sending your heart into cardiac arrest only to bring you back again and again. You were addicted to it, his touch was a sweet drug that always lured you to come back no matter how much you despised him for it.

Finally, his path led him to your core, your insides twisting with excitement and anticipation. His eyes searched for your gaze, looking for the exact same loving look you had given him five minutes ago.

It was always there. It had been there for a long time.

Sukuna looked beautiful, the sight of his face between your legs only adding to the wetness between your thigs. In a not so surprising move from him his nose dug on your mound, sniffing like a dog searching for his favorite snack. You felt his nose digging, going over and over again your clit.

A moan escaped your lips and he stopped, earning a second one but this time in protest. He smiled, the same lazy, cocky, confident smile that irked you to the bone. God, he got your blood boiling so easily. Yet you craved for him, almost as if the anger made every touch ten times more intense.

You moved your hips closer to his face, but he moved away.

He wanted you to beg. He wanted to hear your pleas as you begged for him snatch your underwear off and dig his tongue between your lips. He wanted to see how your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth slightly pouted as you begged him to keep going, to satiate the thirst he felt.

You hated him yet you craved for him.

“Please” You whispered, your throat suddenly dry.

“Please, what?” He whispered back, smile widening.

You didn’t want to, your pride still standing big and strong.

He moved your underwear to the side, taking a deep sniff, his skin only a hair away from touching you and every ounce of resolve exited your body.

“Please, lick me.”

His tongue, digging in as a man who has never drank water, travels up and down, savoring every bit of taste he can. He never thought someone could taste so sweet. He knew this wasn’t enough for you, however a man could only be so selfless. He wanted to drink you as much as he could before giving you what you wanted.

He licks up and down again and again, his tongue poking at your entrance with slow, lazy drags. Your fingers reached to his hair, digging and pulling from it from the roots, and he moans, the vibrations clashing against your skin.

Sukuna looks up to you, your eyes closed in lust as his tongue finally stays on the top, lying flat against your bundle of nerves, and he gives in. It traces a pattern, moving to all the right places he knew would leave you speechless.

Your body was now a road he new every in of new. He knew what made your knees give in, what made your eyes shutter down, your head thrown back in pleasure. He knew what made you bit your lip, your teeth drawing blood trying to drown the moans that left your lips. He knew what made your nipples hard, his eyes unable to look away from them.

The pleasure came in waves, drawing you further into the ocean. Every lick drove you over the edge, your hands now traveling from his hair to the bedsheets. You weren’t able to stop your whimpers and cries, the last bit of your consciousness driving your hand to cover your mouth.

Sukuna grabbed it, snatching it away.

“I want to hear you.”

He drove you to the edge when his fingers buried themselves inside you, building the tightness bulling in your belly until you snapped. A cry of pleasure left your lips as the orgasm took over, your legs closing on his head to the point of suffocation.

He felt his cock twitching against his boxers.

Every bit of your release is licked away, savored by him, to a point you fought for him to stop. It was too much, and he knew it. He enjoyed the way you squirmed away, trying to peel his hands away only for him to dig in more, his hingers suddenly turning into stone prisons.

This time your pulls on his hair weren’t in pure bliss, it was your wildness trying to pull you away from the overstimulation. After what felt forever, his face pulled up only to be met by the palm of your hand. The clap of the impact reverberated in the room, leaving a complete silence behind it.

Your fingers left a red imprint on his skin.

The fire in his eyes burned you as if you had doused it with gasoline, making your heart jolt to your throat. In a matter of seconds, he had climbed over you, his hand pinning you down by the neck. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands there, the soreness of your throat suddenly overwhelming you.

Sukunas eyes looked at you in confusion, only to remember the bruises his hands covered. He pulled them away, as if they had burned him.

“Fuck, sorry. I forgot. Fuck.”

He tried to get off you, but your hand gripped his arm.

You smiled at him, your fingers caressing his skin. “Don’t. It’s ok. It’s ok when it’s you.”

His lips kissed your neck, traveling along the finger-like bruises that covered your skin. Light touches that almost felt like feathers caressing you invaded your senses. Sukuna wanted to erase every mark on your body.

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the full body mirror he kept to the side and your heart sank. The bruising along your nose, the black over your eyes. The slight swelling that could still be seen and the cuts along your face.

How could he stand looking at you?

You tried turning around, away from his gaze. He didn’t allow you.

“What’s wrong?”

“I—“ You hesitated, “My face.”

His fingers trailed along your face, hovering just above your black eye.

“You are the most beautiful human on earth.”

He kissed you deeply, your own taste filling your tastebuds. You didn’t care, not when you craved him inside you, not when the world seemed to combust if you didn’t have him filling you.

Sukuna got off, taking off his boxers as he layed himself down on the bed, positioning you on top of him. You threw away your panties, smashing the wall in the direction you had thrown it. You sat on top of his cock as it buried itself between your folds.

“Use me, brat. Take out all your frustrations on me.”

You lined him with your entrance, sinking in so slowly Sukuna feared you would never actually bottom him out. His cock makes his way inside you, your walls welcoming the oh so familiar delicious stretch you’ve grown accustomed to. He filled you up better than anyone, you had basically salivated the first time you had seen his grith. The first time he had fucked you, you couldn’t sit well for a couple of days, every time you moved bringing back the memories of that dingy low life bar.

 Sukuna gritted his teeth, his head rolling back as you decided to stay still. He tried moving you, his hips bouncing against yours but your hand on his throat, pressing down slightly.

“Are you going to be good for me, pretty boy?”

“Fuck off.”

Smack.

Your slap made his face turn, another imprint left on his skin. Before he could react to it, his hands already ready tear you off him, you pressed down on his neck, his breath hitching on his lungs.

The pace you set was unrelenting, bouncing up and down his cock with pleasure quickly building up inside you. And God, he loved it. He loved being at your disposition. He loved seeing you taking charge. He loved how you clawed at him, how your teeth would sink on his skin, leaving marks of pleasure along his shoulders. He loved how your nails left traces on his back, the deeper the better.

He angled his hips differently and a whole other wave of pleasure began to pool in your womb. Each time you sink down his hands gripped your waist, pulling you even further down.

His vision began to fade a little, his eyesight tunneled from your grip. Your fingers dug deep in his skin every time you fully took him in, the tip of his cock brushing against that soft spot that made your toes curl.

With hesitation, his hands trailed up your body stopping just before your collarbones. He looked at you, looking for permission.

Please, his eyes begged.

You smiled.

That goddamed smirk of yours.

It was a battle of wills. Who could last longer without passing out before the so exorbitant orgasm could wash you away? Who could press harder, driving each other to the point of passing out, before the pleasure would take over?

Sukuna was the one to give in first.

He knew you needed the power, you reveled in the power you held over him. He knew it get you off, having him begging on his knees to be touched by you. Sure, you would indulge in his control over you, your legs trembling when he bent you over the kitchen counter, pulling your panties down as he spread your legs. You would bite your lip, eyes rolling back as he fucked you from behind, his hands manhandling you to back into his cock.

He knew you enjoyed it, but right now you needed something else.

A gasp spilled from your lips, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as Sukunas strong hands kept you in place, fucking in and out of you to drive you to the edge. It overwhelms you, every sensation, every quick and hard drag he takes, just to smash back inside over and over and over again. It’s too much, too quick, too fast. And you love it.

Finally, you cum. Your walls hug him, and a groan leaves his lips. Fuck, he could feel you, he could feel the sudden slickness covering him, he could hear the crass sound your wetness made as you fucked into you. He loved that sound. Sukuna finally spills in you, both of your releases mixing as he keeps going, wanting to enjoy every bit of pleasure you give him.

You laid down in bed, out of breath and out of energy, your legs sore from the constant, uninterrupted stretch of being on top of him. Sukuna got up, grabbing a towel to clean you. He was careful, soft, delicate strokes wiping away every last evidence of the debauchery that had happened. After making sure you were clean, you felt a feathery kiss in your thighs.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his chest as he buried his nose on your neck. Your fingers brushed away his hair, scratching his scalp as he hums and you can’t help but chuckle, he reminded you of a cat.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

Sukuna paced along his bathroom, his hands shaking as he forced himself to grab his phone. He searched for Uraume’s contact, his heart aching as he pressed the call button. It doesn’t take long for them to answer.

“What?”

Uraume was right. Everything that had happened to you was his fault. Every tear, every fear, every ounce of rage, every bruise, every hit. Everything was his fault. He destroyed everything he touched; it was his curse to bear, and he never… he never thought you would be under his casualties.

He loved you. God, he loved you. He couldn’t keep lying to himself. Not when you three words from you could bring a happiness, he never thought possible. Not when saying those three words came as easy to him as breathing.

Sukuna had always been a selfish man. He took and took until there was nothing left, he had never cared. He never cared to care, the world was always at his disposition. But with you, he couldn’t bring himself to just take. He wanted to give, he wanted to treasure you. He wanted to protect you.

He had to protect you.

“Get your shit packed, we’re leaving tonight.”

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

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[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.1

Chapter One: Hide Your Heart From Sight

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Celebrities, Starstruck,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Welcome to this disaster of a fic that I have constantly daydreamed about. Logistically, yes, it is so improbable and unrealistic— but there’s a 0.001% chance that it could happen… to you. It’s nice to wonder and dream. I like wondering. Granted, I’ve never worked in production ever… I am studying advertising and arts soooo that’s as much knowledge I have tehe. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: It Could Happen To You by Laufey

→ Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

The hum of the plane’s engines filled the air as you settled into your seat, trying not to fidget. You glanced at your boarding pass again, as if to double-check you weren’t hallucinating. Seat 3B—business class. Marvel had spared no expense for the production team’s travel, but you still couldn’t quite believe you’d be flying so comfortably.

What shocked you even more, though, was the man lowering himself into the seat next to yours: Pedro Pascal. Yes, that Pedro Pascal. The man whose movies you’d watched obsessively before joining this production, the actor who somehow seemed both unattainably larger-than-life and heartbreakingly down-to-earth.

“Hi,” he said with a warm smile, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Looks like we’re seatmates.”

You froze for a moment, then managed a weak, “Hi.” Your heart hammered against your ribcage as you mentally scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make you sound like a complete idiot.

“You’re with the crew, right?” Pedro asked, adjusting the scarf around his neck. “What do you do?”

“Oh, um,” you stammered, “I’m just a production assistant. It’s my first big project.”

“No kidding? That’s awesome,” he said, genuinely sounding impressed. “First time working on a Marvel movie? How’s it going so far?”

“It’s… surreal,” you admitted, relaxing slightly under his easygoing demeanor. “I mean, it’s been amazing, but also kind of overwhelming. There’s so much to do, and everyone’s so talented. I…” You trailed off, realizing you were rambling.

“I get it,” Pedro said, nodding. “First big gig can be a lot. But hey, you’re here. That means someone saw something in you, right?”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Pedro asked you about your favorite movies, your hobbies, and how you’d gotten into production work. You told him about your love for art direction and set design, your dream of one day being a production designer, and your side passion for writing and music. When you mentioned you played guitar and sang, he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ll have to play something for us on set sometime,” he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You laughed nervously. “I don’t know about that. I’d probably die of embarrassment.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” he replied, his tone light but mischievous.

By the time the plane landed, you were buzzing—partly from the conversation and partly from the fact that you’d just spent hours talking to Pedro Pascal as if he were an old friend.

The buzz quickly faded when you arrived at the hotel. You stood in the lobby with the rest of the crew, listening as the location manager, Duncan, argued with the front desk staff. Apparently, there’d been a mix-up with the bookings. The hotel was overbooked due to a telecommunications conference, and somehow, you’d been assigned to share a suite… with Pedro Pascal.

“This has to be a mistake,” you muttered to yourself, your anxiety spiking as Duncan tried to sort things out. But no matter how much back-and-forth there was, the conclusion remained the same: there were no other rooms available.

“Look,” Pedro said finally, stepping in with his usual calm demeanor. “It’s fine. I don’t mind sharing if she’s okay with it.”

You blinked up at him, your mind racing. “I…”

“Hey,” he said gently, noticing your hesitation. He leaned in slightly, his voice soft but steady. “Look at me. I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it. No pressure.”

You swallowed hard, glancing over at Duncan, who looked as stressed as you felt. Finally, you nodded. “I’m fine with it if everyone else is.”

“Great,” Pedro said, flashing you a reassuring smile. “It’s settled, then.”

Duncan pulled you aside before you headed to the elevators. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his tone fatherly.

“Yes,” you said, forcing a smile. “Is there any kind of form I need to sign, or…?”

“No, it all falls under the NDA from your employment,” he assured you. “But seriously, if you need anything, just text me.”

You thanked him and joined Pedro in the elevator. The ride up to the suite was silent, save for the soft dinging of the floors passing by. When you finally stepped into the room, you couldn’t help but gape. It was a spacious suite with two bedrooms on opposite sides, a small kitchenette, and a cozy living area.

“This isn’t so bad,” Pedro said, dropping his bag by the door. He turned to you, his expression kind. “Do you have a preference for which room?”

You fidgeted with the strap of your bag. “Um, no, you can pick.”

“Ladies’ choice,” he insisted, his tone playful.

“Okay,” you said, gesturing to the room on the right. “I’ll take that one.”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “Let me know if you need anything, alright?”

As you unpacked in your room, the reality of the situation began to sink in. You were sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal. For at least a week. And somehow, you had to act like a normal, functioning human being the entire time.

You took a deep breath and flopped over on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Letting out a huff of air in disbelief, you muttered to yourself, “This has to be some sort of dream… or prank, right?”

Placing both hands over your face, you rubbed it in exasperation. “Get your shit together, girl. No screwing things up, no more internal freakouts. He’s a person, like you. Mhm, sure. Yup. Totally fine.”

You sighed deeply, trying to convince yourself of your own words. The suite was spacious and nicely furnished, with plenty of room to keep your distance—but that didn’t stop your overactive imagination from running wild. Every interaction felt loaded with the possibility of embarrassing yourself, but you swore you’d keep it together.

To say people around the production crew had heard about your new roomie was an understatement.

The day before shooting began, you attended a pre-production meeting that covered everything: call sheet details, blocking and camera movement, technical requirements, and a bunch of safety protocols. It was standard procedure but felt ten times more overwhelming knowing your friends would tease you mercilessly.

You sat with your friends from the art department, trying to focus, but they weren’t making it easy. Archie, one of the lead set designers, leaned over with a smirk. “So, how’s life as Pedro Pascal’s roomie?”

You felt your face heat up instantly. “I—it’s not… it’s just temporary,” you stammered, fiddling with the edge of your notebook.

Stephanie, a costume designer with an endless supply of sass, raised an eyebrow. “Temporary or not, it’s the stuff of rom-coms, babe. Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined a meet-cute scenario in that suite.”

“I have not!” you protested, though your flaming cheeks betrayed you. 

Will, an art director with a love for stirring the pot, chuckled. “Come on, you’ve gotta admit it’s a little… serendipitous? You, a huge fan, sharing a suite with the guy? Sounds like fate to me.”

“It’s not fate,” you insisted, trying to deflect. “It’s a logistical mistake, that’s all.”

Max, the trainee set dresser, chimed in with a grin. “Yeah, but a logistical mistake that’s got everyone talking. Even Steve heard about it, and he’s usually the last to know anything.”

Steve, the lighting technician, shrugged. “What can I say? Word travels fast. I’m just here to see how long it takes for Pedro to find out about your… fandom.”

“Oh my god, can we not?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “He’s going to think I’m a weirdo.”

Rebecca, a fellow production assistant and one of your closest friends, patted your shoulder sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he seems like the kind of guy who’d find it endearing. Besides, you’ve been professional so far, right?”

You nodded hesitantly. “I think so. I mean, I haven’t said anything stupid yet.”

“Yet being the keyword,” Sophie teased, earning a laugh from the group.

Patricia, always the voice of reason, smiled warmly. “Just be yourself. You’re great at your job, and Pedro’s just another actor. A very charming actor, sure, but still just a person.”

“Thanks, Patricia,” you said, feeling slightly more grounded. But the anxiety still lingered, especially with everyone’s teasing reminders of your not-so-secret crush.

As the meeting wrapped up and you headed back to your tasks, you couldn’t shake the nervous excitement bubbling inside you. Sharing a suite with Pedro Pascal might’ve been a logistical mistake, but it was quickly turning into one of the most unreal experiences of your life.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL, LONDON — NIGHT

Dinner with the cast and crew had been lively, filled with laughter, and far too many knowing glances sent your way by your friends. The teasing hadn’t stopped, even over plates of pasta and glasses of wine.

Archie had leaned over at one point, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when Pedro walks out of the bathroom shirtless? Swoon or faint?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “Archie!”

“I’m just saying,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a valid question.”

Stephanie smirked. “She’s probably rehearsing her ‘I’m totally cool and unaffected’ face right now.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.”

Rebecca grinned. “No, you don’t. But seriously, just enjoy the moment. How many people can say they’ve shared a hotel room with Pedro Pascal?”

By the time the group had wandered back to the shuttle, your cheeks were sore from laughing, and your nerves were only slightly calmed. But as the cold London air nipped at your skin, you found yourself longing for the warmth of the hotel.

Your teeth chattered as you stepped off the shuttle, clutching your coat tighter around you. You didn’t like the cold very much, and London was very, very cold.

The moment you entered the hotel lobby, the warmth began to seep into your body, and you let out a sigh of relief. The elevator ride to your floor was quiet, your mind finally shutting down after a long evening of socializing. By the time you reached your room, you were operating on autopilot.

Tapping your keycard to the door, you quietly pushed it open, careful not to disturb Pedro if he was already asleep. It was just past 9:30 p.m., and you knew the early call time tomorrow would have him resting early.

You shut the door softly behind you, locking the deadbolt before shuffling into the room. You removed your coat, scarf, and shoes, swapping them for the fuzzy slippers you’d packed. The room was dimly lit, and you moved quietly, hoping not to make too much noise.

“Oh, you’re back.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, clutching your chest as your heart tried to escape it. Whipping around, you found Pedro lounging on the sofa, a book in his hands and a soft, amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a plain white tee and gray sweatpants, his square-framed glasses perched on his nose, and he looked entirely too comfortable—like he belonged there. Like this was normal.

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you were still awake,” you said, voice breathless as you tried to recover from the scare.

He chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. You were so quiet coming in, I thought maybe you were sneaking around.”

You set your things on the small table by the door, giving him an exasperated look. “I wasn’t sneaking around. I was trying not to wake you.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” He tilted his head, watching you with that relaxed air that somehow made you feel completely exposed. “How was dinner?”

“It was good,” you said, shrugging as you moved toward the kitchenette to grab a bottle of water. “Everyone was in high spirits, and the food was great. We took a little walk around the city before heading back.”

Pedro closed his book, setting it on the coffee table. “Sounds nice. London at night can be magical.”

“Yeah, it was.” You paused, feeling the weight of his gaze. “Though, I think I underestimated just how cold it gets here. My teeth were chattering the whole way back.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile softening. “Didn’t bring a warm enough coat?”

“I thought I did, but apparently not. I’m not built for this kind of weather,” you admitted with a laugh, wrapping your arms around yourself as if to stave off the lingering chill.

Pedro stood, crossing the room with an easy grace that made your breath hitch. “Well, we can’t have you freezing, can we?” He grabbed the throw blanket draped over the back of the sofa and held it out to you. “Here.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the simple gesture. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I just get cold really easily. Besides, I’ll warm up eventually.”

“Take it,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm. “It’s not a big deal.”

Reluctantly, you took the blanket, your fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. It sent a jolt of warmth through you that had nothing to do with the fabric now wrapped around your shoulders. “Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it tighter around you.

“Better?” he asked, stepping back to give you space but still watching you with that disarmingly kind expression.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding. “Much. Thanks, Pedro.”

He smiled again, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging there. But then he broke the silence, his voice light. “So, did they give you a hard time at dinner?”

Your face heated instantly. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, leaning casually against the back of the sofa. “I heard some of the cast talking earlier. Apparently, your friends in the art department have been… teasing you about the room situation.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh no. What exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing incriminating,” he said with a laugh. “Just that they’re convinced this is some kind of meet-cute scenario straight out of a rom-com.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, mortified. “I’m so sorry. They’re ridiculous.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, his tone easy, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

Your hands dropped to your sides, your eyes wide. “Flattering?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s nice to know someone thinks sharing a room with me is worth all that excitement.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to process the fact that Pedro Pascal—Pedro Pascal—was standing in front of you, teasing you in the most charming way possible.

“Well, I’ll let you get some rest,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “Big day.”

He gave you one last smile before retreating to his side of the suite, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a head full of thoughts you were too scared to unpack.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — DAY  

You woke to the soft chime of your alarm, the faint glow of early morning light creeping through the curtains. Shuffling into the bathroom with a yawn, you turned on the shower, letting the warm water coax you into wakefulness. You placed your phone on the counter, tapping on a playlist to fill the small space with soft, melodic tunes—comforting background noise that kept your mind from spiraling too early in the day.  

After your shower, you toweled off and began your morning routine. Skincare applied with practiced ease, makeup brushed on with care, you avoided the mirror for too long, focusing instead on the growing anticipation of the day ahead. Pinning your ID to your lanyard, you glanced at your phone again.  

The group chat with your team was buzzing:  

Archie: "We’re fifteen minutes out. Don’t keep us waiting, queen 👑."  

Rebecca: "Text when you’re coming down!"  

Max: "Coffee run? Pls? 🙏"  

A small smile tugged at your lips as you tapped out a quick reply, your fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before you switched apps.  

Your heart did a little stutter as you opened your browser—a Joel Miller fanfic you’d been obsessing over still lingering on your screen. You skimmed the most recent chapter, your thumb pausing to scroll as you half-laughed at the absurdity of sneaking in a few paragraphs before a full day on set. You switched to the chat thread with your online friends, who were deep in a heated discussion about whether Joel would be the type to cook breakfast for his partner. You couldn’t help but chuckle, throwing in a quick, “He’d definitely make pancakes and act like it’s no big deal,” before locking your phone and setting it on the counter.  

Moving on autopilot, you padded into the small kitchenette, barefoot and still humming softly to the tune stuck in your head. You set the coffee machine to brew, pulling out a couple of mugs, a jar of Nutella, and some bread. Your hands moved with muscle memory, spreading the hazelnut spread on toast and slicing up a handful of fruit without a second thought. It wasn’t until the scent of coffee filled the air that you realized you’d made two plates of toast—one for you and one for Pedro.  

The realization struck at the same moment you heard the faint shuffle of footsteps behind you.  

“Morning.”  

His voice was low and warm, still carrying the huskiness of sleep. You froze, phone in one hand, butter knife in the other, as you turned to see Pedro leaning against the doorframe. His hair was adorably tousled, and he was dressed in a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants that somehow made him look effortlessly put together. His eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at you, and you nearly dropped your phone in a panic.  

“Good morning,” you managed, your voice a little too high-pitched as you fumbled to lock your screen. The thought of him catching even a glimpse of what you’d been reading was enough to make your cheeks burn.  

Pedro glanced at the counter, taking in the toast, coffee, and neatly sliced fruit. “You made breakfast?”  

“Oh, uh—yeah.” You set your phone down and gestured awkwardly toward the spread. “I made you some coffee and toast with Nutella. I wasn’t sure if you’d want that, and there’s fruit, too. I was just about to cut some more, but obviously, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, and—”  

“Hey.” Pedro’s soft chuckle cut through your rambling, and when you met his gaze, he was looking at you with a mix of amusement and something else you couldn’t quite place. “Thank you. That’s really sweet of you.”  

You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by the sincerity in his voice. “Oh. Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing, really.”  

He moved past you to grab a mug of coffee, the proximity sending your pulse into overdrive. As he poured himself a cup, you noticed his shoulders relaxed and his movements unhurried. He took a sip and let out a small, contented sigh.  

“Perfect,” he said, glancing over at you with a grin. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”  

Your laugh came out nervous and breathy. “I’m pretty sure this doesn’t count as spoiling. It’s just toast.”  

“Yeah, but it’s good toast,” he teased, holding up a slice as if to emphasize his point.  

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, the tension in your chest easing slightly. The moment felt impossibly domestic—like a scene out of one of those fanfics you’d been reading. Only this time, it wasn’t Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with you. It was Pedro.  

And that was somehow even more surreal.  

Pedro leaned against the counter, his mug cradled in both hands. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. “So,” he started, his voice warm and casual, “what were you so engrossed in on your phone earlier? You looked ready to throw it out the window when I walked in.”  

Your stomach flipped, and you tried to play it cool, even though you were fairly certain your face was now several shades of red. “Oh, nothing,” you lied, brushing a crumb off the counter. “Just the group chat. You know how chaotic they are.”  

Pedro tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Mm-hmm. Sure it wasn’t something more... intriguing?”  

You swallowed hard, gripping your coffee cup a little tighter. “Intriguing?”  

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes twinkling with mischief over the rim of his mug. “You tell me.”  

“It’s nothing!” you blurted out, a little too defensively. “Just—just boring stuff. Work stuff.”  

“Work stuff,” he repeated slowly, clearly unconvinced. “Right. Because people laugh at boring work stuff while making toast.”  

You groaned, setting your mug down as you ran a hand over your face. “Can we not? Please? I’m already mortified enough.”  

Pedro chuckled, the sound low and teasing but not unkind. “Alright, alright. I’ll let it go... for now.” He set his mug on the counter and raised his hands in mock surrender. “But you owe me a story later. Deal?”  

You hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Depends on how much coffee you’ve had by then. I might need you slightly less smug for that conversation.”  

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, just enough to make your heart stutter. “Smug? I prefer charming. But I’ll take it under advisement.”  

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The playful banter made the room feel lighter, warmer.  

By the time you both finished your coffee, the atmosphere had shifted into something comfortable and easy. You quickly rinsed the dishes, your hands moving on autopilot as Pedro lingered nearby, chatting about everything and nothing.  

As you dried your hands, your phone buzzed on the counter, and you glanced at the screen.  

Rebecca: “Bus is almost there. Better get your cute butt down here!”  

You shot back a quick reply: “On my way.” Turning to Pedro, you grabbed your bag and gestured toward the door. “I’ve got to head down. My shuttle’s waiting.”  

Pedro grabbed his own bag and trailed after you. “I’ll walk down with you. I’ve got my own ride coming, but they’re always late.”  

The two of you stepped into the elevator, the hum of its descent filling the silence. The confined space suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier with unspoken tension.  

Pedro stood close—too close. You could feel the heat radiating off him, smell the faint hint of his cologne. Your heart thudded in your chest, and you pressed the strap of your bag tighter against your shoulder, hoping it would anchor you somehow.  

“So,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost intimate in the stillness of the elevator. “What’s the plan for today?”  

You glanced at him, his brown eyes watching you closely, the curve of his smile softer now. “Same as usual, I guess,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Make sure everything runs smoothly while you and everyone else look good on camera.”  

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “You make it sound so simple, but I know you’re the one holding it all together.”  

His words caught you off guard, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I just do my job.”  

“And you do it damn well,” he said, his tone sincere now, no teasing edge in sight.  

The elevator dinged as it reached the lobby, breaking the moment. Pedro gestured for you to step out first, and you did, your pulse still racing.  

“Thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure if you were thanking him for his compliment or just for letting you escape the charged space of the elevator.  

As you spotted your shuttle waiting outside, you turned to him, suddenly aware of how reluctant you were to leave. “I’ll see you on set?”  

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a beat longer than necessary. “Yeah. See you soon.”  

You stepped outside, the crisp morning air hitting your face as you walked toward the shuttle. But even as you climbed aboard and found a seat, your mind was still back in that elevator, replaying every glance, every word, every spark.

End Notes:

Oh hi! I missed doing these silly bits; I thought to bring ‘em back. But, don’t worry, I’ll try to yap less haha

Yes, it’s super cliche, cheesy, unrealistic, and practically a hallmark movie in the making. But that’s the fun part in fanfiction and writing, it’s all made up and no one here is allowed to “yuck” each other’s “yum” if you know what I mean. ;)

Also, I have no idea how production for film works so I’m researching stuff and making stuff up along the way pls no one come after me T^T

Weirdly enough, I saw a reddit post from someone who works at the front of the hotel desk and they say the one-bed trope/one-room trope; it actually happens pretty frequently lol so who knows ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca

[bisexualiteaa]

Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

[earlysunshines]

tutor perks

park jihyo x fem!reader ; fluff, smut ; pt. 2

synopsis: the kid you’re tutoring has a really sweet, charming hot aunt.

warnings: alcohol ; not proofread so many spelling and grammatical errors (probably) ; mmm smut ; smut; and smut ; praise ; overstimulation ; almost fucking in the fancy bathroom ; reader ruined by jihyo ; men mentioned yuck!! ; food ; jihyo is like seven years older than reader ; mmm anything else i’ve missed ; physics mentioned 😵‍💫

a/n: i need her so bad like

(um ALSO i wrote half of this on my phone (that era was...))

- 

you’re assigned to tutor a high school student, some junior boy named matthew park that’s falling behind in a couple of subjects. the lady at the front office had provided you directions to the library, but still, it took you a few wrong turns and another ask to actually get there. 

walking in, you notice the lively yet quiet ambiance filling the room. there are groups of students studying together, giggling and pushing each other around as they do so. another group seems to be much more focused than the others, all furrowing their brows while examining whatever paper is on the table. 

you scan the room and look for a guy who should be alone, and to the right, you spot just that. 

he’s hunched over a little and his eyes are glued to the phone in his right hand while he spins a pencil with the other hand. the guy has on a green crewneck sweater and the headphones he wears squish some of his dark hair, which is parted messily in the middle. you tap on his desk subtly—he looks up with raised brows and takes off his headphones. 

you shoot a friendly smile and begin to speak, “hi, are you—“ 

“matthew, yeah.” he interrupts, “matt is fine.” 

his voice is pretty low, and something about his energy and mannerisms tell you that he’s some type of athlete. he runs a hand through his hair as you sit down next to him and fixes his posture. at least he has some manners, unlike the type of athletes you had to deal with a few years ago. 

“i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” you greet, sticking out your hand—which matt takes—and shaking his bigger, rougher one.  

you clear your throat and look at the slightly creased notes on the table accompanied by the spiral notebook and green folder. setting down your own bag on the floor, you ask, “so, what is it that you’re struggling with the most?” 

matt glances at the entrance for a brief moment then looks down at the work in front of him and clenches his jaw, crossing his arms.  

“physics and precalculus.” he simply says, his voice seeming small and ashamed. you glance over towards where he was before, catching a group of five teenagers—all seemingly athletic from the apparel they wear—and start to catch onto his sudden bashful demeanor. 

“alright, i can help you with that.” you assure, “i’ll try to make this quick and do the best i can to help, just let me know what you want me to explain.” 

matt nods, picking up the pencil and huffing. 

- 

after tutoring math and reliving your high school physics trauma, you’re headed out the entrance of the library and trying to find your way to the main doors.  

“wait!” a voice calls out, “y/n, was it?”  

turning around, you stand a few feet away from matt, whose headphones are resting around his neck comfortably. he rubs his neck and then pinches the bridge of his nose before shutting his eyes tightly. 

you tilt your head, wondering what this boy needs; was it some extra notes or help? 

“yes?” 

“i um,” he begins, tensing his jaw and shaking his head. “i don’t know if this is appropriate to ask you since you’re a tutor—and i swear i’m not hitting on you!” he catches himself, groaning after he speaks. “i just, don’t want to be seen getting tutored, it’s embarrassing because i’m… i’m not doing well academically right now.” 

“matt, it’s okay, don’t feel—” 

“stop,” he says bluntly. “look, you were probably in my place a couple of years ago or something, i don’t know. just, i don’t like being seen like this because i used to be better, but my professors and everything…” 

“i get that, we can work it out! i was actually really good at physics and i know how bad it can be, i was there and precalculus is pretty simple to me.” 

“yes and thank you, i just wanted to ask if we could change locations. somewhere that’s not where i go to school.” 

“where were you thinking matt?” you ask, quirking a brow and ignoring the little buzz from your phone that’s in your pocket. 

he sighs and repeats, “before i ask; i’m not hitting on you, i swear to god.”  

“matt if you’re insisting some type of café i’m fine with that, people study there all the-“ 

“no, i’d be recognized there too.” he mumbles. “can you just come over to my house? i’ll even have my aunt texting you to say it’s okay, i don’t know if you need that confirmation or whatever, i mean, i’m a minor and i get that it might be iffy.” 

“oh, i see.” you mutter in response. “i mean, we can do that, just have your aunt text me, yeah?” 

“okay.” he responds, “can we do this thursday? i have a physics test on friday.” 

“that’s fine, i’ll do my best to help you out matt.” 

he smiles gratefully. “thank you y/n.”  

-- 

once you’re out of your car after parking near the curb across the street, you get a real good view of matt’s house and damn, the place is nice. 

it’s pretty big and modern, but not too modern that it’s uncomfortable, it just stands out. 

you walk down the little pathway towards the door, which is illuminated by dimmed, warm lights, and tilt your neck to the side to crack it before knocking. a few moments later, you hear the locks click as they turn and the door opens, matt opens it and he’s wearing some white t-shirt, which is paired with black sweatpants. 

“thank you for coming, and again, i swear i’m not hitting on you.” 

“matt, it would be very illegal for me to do anything like that with you. i get it, seriously.” 

“just making sure.” he says, “come in, my aunt is coming home soon.” 

his aunt had sent you a text asking if you were his tutor, and she had thanked you for offering such assistance to her nephew. the lady—his aunt—seemed sweet. her tone via text and the amusing emojis she used had given you this image of some woman in her 40s or 50s, probably baking cookies and thanking you with a warm hug for helping her dear relative. you’ll meet her later; hopefully, she does end up giving you cookies. 

matt leads you to the dining area and as you make your way there, the aroma of vanilla fills the air. maybe it was the cookies that were waiting for you, or you’re just really hungry and craving something sweet. 

“i have the things i need to study, he gave us this study guide and i have some questions regarding the velocity equations.” he explains, but stops himself in his tracks and mutters an “ah,” before asking, “did you want anything to drink?” 

“no, no.” you dismiss him with a wave of your hand. “let’s get started, shall we?” 

the rhythmic ticking of the clock echoed through the room as you continued to guide matt through the complexities of his physics homework. frustrated groans and muttered curses painted a vivid picture of the challenges he was enduring—in this case, one of the most dreadful subjects ever—and you found yourself helping him whenever you could. 

as the sounds of the front door unlocking reached your ears, both you and matt instinctively turned towards the entrance. matt, eager to get a small break from the terrible page of paper in front of him, leapt up to open the door just as it swung ajar. 

"hey, auntie," he greeted, the familial connection evident in his tone. 

“hi matt, there are some groceries i need you to take in, would you mind helping me out?” 

“no not at all,” he says, then excuses himself to go help out with the groceries. 

the figure that emerged into the room drew your attention like a magnetic force. matt's aunt strode in with an air of authority that commanded immediate respect. your jaw tensed as you observed her approach, an almost instinctive reaction to the oddly powerful aura exuded from her. how crazy it was for a woman who’s just appeared to have you sit up in your seat. 

she was not what you expected—a far cry from the stereotypical image you had of aunts in their 40s or 50s, definitely not as old as you had assumed. instead, she carried an ageless poise, appearing young but undeniably mature. dressed in a black blazer that teased the line between formal and casual, ending provocatively above her knees, she was a vision that held your gaze captive. 

however, it wasn't just the flawless outfit that ensnared your attention. it was the remarkable contours of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones that had your jaw dropping just barely as you were in your trance. her steps echoed with a strange power, and even in her approach, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimidation just by existing within her proximity. 

as matt’s aunt neared, her gaze locked onto yours—a gaze that felt both deathly and tremendously allurin — then, she smiled, a shift in demeanor that caught you off guard. the stern, professional aura melted away, replaced by a wonderfully cute smile that seemed to rival her intimidating presence. 

you—caught in a momentary trance—couldn't help but reciprocate with a dorky smile, your hand instinctively moving to fix your hair, as if trying to match the sudden change in atmosphere. what a mess you were for someone’s aunt you’ve just laid your eyes on.  

"ah, you're y/n, matt's tutor, am i correct?" she inquired, her voice sent a ripple of warmth through the room. the cadence of her words held a subtle allure, a tone that rang with confidence and undeniable charm. her voice was a little on the deeper end, but regardless it was hot and you could for sure get used to it. 

you managed to nod, finding your voice despite the sudden whirlwind of emotions. "yes, that's me. nice to meet you, miss park." 

“no need to be so formal hon.” she chuckles, pleased. “you can call me jihyo.” she assures with a smile. jihyo stretches out her hand and you take it, her hands are soft and smaller than yours, and her nails well manicured. “you have nice hands y/n.”  

that is such a crazy statement coming from someone’s beautiful, striking aunt who you’ve met for the first time ever and just now. your cheeks flush and you laugh shyly before responding, “thank you, your hands are um, they’re nice too.” 

after realizing that you’ve been holding this woman’s hand for too long, you pull away and run a hand through your hair again. jihyo smiles at you before walking over to the desk and examining the paper, she sighs and raises her brows. 

“ah, physics, i was never good at that when i was in high school.” 

“yes it’s something a lot of people struggled with in high school, i was lucky to be able to do well in that class.” you shrug, and jihyo looks at you impressed. 

“i see, you must be smart huh? and how old are you sweetheart?” 

your knees almost give up on you after this crazy hot woman just called you sweetheart, yet you manage to respond to her without stuttering or sounding like a fool. “i’m 20.” 

“ah, pretty young huh. you’re in college?” 

“yeah. education major, actually.” 

“how cute.” she responds amusingly, “well, thank you again for teaching my nephew. i’ll be upstairs, just send a text or shout if he’s a hassle. thanks hon.” 

jihyo shoots you a grateful smile before patting you on the shoulder; you might just die right then and there. you gulp lightly and manage to choke out a response, “y-yeah, no problem.” which makes the older woman giggle softly before leaving. 

you have got to get a grip. 

-- 

the woman you’ve interacted with for no more than three minutes surely left a mark with her first impression. now you’re putting more effort into your appearance than you did for that date you had three weeks ago with the girl sarah set you up with. 

you slip into a white graphic baby tee that effortlessly molds around your figure, the perfect balance of snug and comfortable. the tee you were gifted is paired with your beloved thrifted boyfriend jeans, their wash perfectly complements your top and if you were to stretch just a little bit, jihyo would get a glimpse of the line that runs down your tummy. a hint of effortlessness fills the air as you tie up the upper half of your hair, allowing loose strands to gently caress your shoulders and frame your face. light and natural makeup enhances your best features, purposefully done to emphasize your appeal with a touch of ease.  

when you reach the front door of matt’s house, you brush a strand of hair out and pat down the black cardigan you have on before knocking on it three times. the familiar teenage boy opens it up and greets you with a smile, inviting you in.  

everything goes as usual: you situate yourself in a different room this time and matt hands you his assignments. you take your time to give them a good look, and then ask him what he needs help with. this time he needs help with precalculus, and thankfully, you’re pretty good at that too. 

you watch him work on the assignments for a bit and start to get thirsty, and then you realize you’ve forgotten your water bottle on the counter in your small apartment.  

“ah i forgot my bottle… could i get some water?” you ask him, and he nods without looking away from the paper. 

“yeah, the kitchen is down the hall to the right. there’s bottles in the fridge. could you grab me a coke zero?” 

“yeah, thanks, i’ll be quick. just work on these for the time being.” he hums in response to you and continues to write down various messy scribbles while solving some type of math problem he’s been assigned. 

you do as he says: walk down the hall and to the right to enter the familiar kitchen you were near last time and you’re met with the familiar older woman that had you all flustered before. she’s standing by the stove and cooking something up and it smells great. awkwardly, you walk over to the fridge and she turns after catching you in her peripheral. 

she smiles immediately upon meeting your presence. 

“y/n! hi honey, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo greets, “i’ve been wanting to see you again.” 

“you have?” your cheeks flush immediately, and you manage to recompose yourself, clearing your throat before responding,, “it’s nice to see you too..” 

jihyo looks you up and down, eyes pausing for two seconds on the baby tee hugging your figure before meeting your eyes again. her look does things that she wants her hands doing, but that’s for her to know. 

“did you need anything sweetheart?” she asks, raising a brow. her question doesn’t process through your head until a few moments after. you were too busy admiring her from head to toe, taking in her features, the casual outfit she has on—eyes enjoying the view of her cleavage that slightly shows in that black tank top she wears.  

you clear your throat again. 

“oh i was just getting some drinks for matt and i.” you respond, quickly darting your eyes away from her chest.  

the older woman giggles amusingly, “take whatever you’d like from there.” 

“thank you miss— i mean, jihyo. it’s fine really, just thirsty and matt wants a coke zero, haha.” 

“alright~” she says, dragging her response teasingly. “just let me know, ‘kay?”  

“yeah, thanks.” you smile sheepishly and nod, then grab the drinks you almost forgot about before walking away.  

jihyo looks you up and down as you step into the hall, smirking a bit before going back to cook the dinner she’d been preparing.  

when you get back to the room where you had been tutoring, you spot matt, who is still writing down some equation down on his paper. he looks up once he hears you, then smiles after seeing the coca-cola in your hand. 

“here’s your drink.” you smile. 

“thanks.” 

“it’s no problem, your aunt told me to grab as much as i’d like. is she always so… sweet?” 

“i mean, i guess so. she’s pretty laid back with my friends as long as we don’t do too much.” matt opens the can and shakes his head as a small laugh slips out. “she’s definitely more generous with you, i can tell. she asked me about you actually.” 

“she what?” your eyes widen and your head turns. “what did she ask?” 

“nothing too important, just when you’d be over again.” matt shrugs, then his adam’s apple moves up and down whilst his neck muscles tense and relax as he gulps down the carbonated drink. “damn this is fizzy—” he says, then coughs. “fuck.” 

matt leaves you with an awareness of jihyo’s curiousity towards your own self, and now you’re trying to focus on tutoring the kid whilst thinking of his aunt.  

“good job matt, i can see you’re already getting much better. the concepts and formulas seem to be clicking, yeah?” you praise, he nods. matt stretches his arms out and you roll your shoulders back to release some tension. 

after helping him tidy up, you make sure everything is back in your own tote bag that you had brought. matt turns towards the entrance to the room and his eyebrows raise a bit, then you turn and see the same woman. your jaw tenses—lips part slightly too. 

jihyo walks in and the sway of her hips isn’t unnoticeable. she looks at the two of you, eyes lingering on you longer than her own nephew, then beams. “matt, help me set up dinner will you?” 

“mhm, gotchu. what’s for dinner by the way?” 

“steak and pasta, go mix up the pasta would you?” 

“yes aunt hyo.” matt complies, then shoots you a grateful grin before standing up with an exaggerated, tired sigh. he walks past jihyo, leaving the two of you alone. 

your heart beats embarrassingly fast once matt is gone, it thumps so hard in your chest that you’re afraid that jihyo may hear.  

“done for the day?” jihyo questions, walking over to you. 

you gulp. “yeah, just finished actually.” 

“i see, you must be hungry.” then jihyo locks eyes with you, and you genuinely think it might be something more—or maybe you’re delusional—who knows. “stay for dinner.” 

okay maybe it’s something more, or you’re just a desperate, lovesick gay college student that’s borderline head over heels. 

“oh it’s fine, really.” you say it with uncertainty, waving your hands in the air with an awkward smile. “i don’t want to trouble you.” 

“it’d be anything but a trouble y/n.” jihyo counters, “if anything the trouble would be letting a pretty lady like you out my house with an empty stomach.” 

jihyo places her hand on your shoulder, then squeezes it lightly. her eyes have you paralyzed in place, drilling into your pupils and then finding their attention on your lips. jihyo is slightly shorter than you, yet you feel so helpless under than her. an amused smirk plays on her lips and you find yourself clutching your tote bag strap a little tighter. 

“…then i’ll take your offer, thank you.” you nod awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flush. 

jihyo nods, feeling accomplished, then pulls her hand off your shoulder. “i’ll have matt know there’s going to be an extra plate then. come on sweetheart.” 

-- 

now you’re sat at the dining table with jihyo across. she’s grinning and her eyes keep wandering all over you, but most of the time they’re focused on your face. 

matt hands you a plate with steak and alfredo pasta, then some utensils. he places a cup of water down on a coaster and pushes it towards you, then hands his aunt a glass of white wine.  

matt takes a bite of the meal and sighs, pleased with how it satisfies his hunger. jihyo laughs at him whilst he goes on to devour the plate. you follow after him and twirl some of the noodle against your spoon, then stab a piece of steak with your fork. the bite you take is filled with some saltiness, though it’s deliciously savory—just how you like it. 

jihyo smiles. “good?” 

“it’s great, thank you again jihyo.”  

“anytime, i fancy your company.” she responds before taking a bite herself. 

there’s a question brewing in your mind, but you’re second-guessing yourself because it seems a bit rude, well, maybe. jihyo swallows the steak and reaches for her glass again. 

“so it’s just you and matt?” you ask, avoiding eye contact. 

matt turns and raises a brow, then shrugs it off. jihyo simply nods her head. 

“just me and the troublemaker.” she jokes, which earns an eye roll from matt. “he moved here a few years ago, the school over here is excellent for him. great academics, extracurriculars, sports teams…” 

“i see. good for him then.”  

“what about you?” jihyo questions. you look up at her in the middle of chewing down your pasta, rushing to get a response out. 

“sorry, what?” 

“just you? no boyfriend or… significant other?”  

surprisingly, you don’t choke on your food. “oh no, not at the moment.” 

“that’s a shame, and a surprise.” she takes another bite of steak and chews on it in the right side of her cheek, puffing it out a little. “i wonder why no one has made a move, i would’ve if there were a beauty like you around.” 

matt pauses, his brows furrow and he looks at his aunt with some slight concern. “auntie?” 

“i’m only teasing silly, just complimenting,” jihyo says, laughing to ease the tension in the air (though, it doesn’t work. your heart starts racing again and the meal gets harder to finish). “it’s better than whatever you’ve said over the phone to those—”  

matt coughs, then shakes his head. “okay okay, we get it.” he rolls his eyes (again) and shrinks into his seat, making jihyo giggle. you laugh as well and matt scoffs as he pokes at the steak on his plate. 

there’s a sudden buzz that makes the table vibrate slightly. your phone sits next to your glass of water, and you reach for it hastily. due to your clumsy handling, the water topples over, spilling all over shirt—your chest. 

“shit—” you curse and stand up quickly.  

“matt, grab some napkins for y/n.” jihyo orders, quickly walking over to your side of the table. she grabs the napkins from her nephew and hands them to you, then urges you to follow her. she turns to matt and quickly says, “clean up the table, i’ll go help y/n out with her clothes.” 

matt hums in response and you follow jihyo, feeling embarassed from the small scene you’ve made. 

-- 

“i’m really sorry, and really, i could’ve cleaned up on my own—”  

“it’s fine y/n, don’t worry about it.” jihyo assures, leading you to the large master bedroom.  

there’s a king-sized bed in the middle, dimmed lights, and the room screams luxury. jihyo leads you over to the closet and grabs a small towel, then starts to pat down at your chest, making your cheeks burn.  

her hands find their way over to your shoulder to stabilize you, and then she’s shaking her head after trying to dry the spillage on your shirt. “this won’t do, let me get you a shirt. you can take off yours and leave it on the hanger over there.” she says, pointing to the hook. 

“t-thank you.” mentally, you facepalm yourself for sounding so nervous. 

“your cheeks are red,” jihyo giggles. she places her hand on your shoulder, then drags it down to your chest briefly before pulling away. “it’s alright honey, it happens. i’ll get you that shirt.” 

a few minutes later she enters the abnormally large closet again and hands you a gray sweatshirt with some college logo on it.  

“thank you jihyo, i’ll give this back to you when i—” 

“it’s fine, just keep it for pajamas or anything like that. it’s just some old shirt from when i graduated a while ago.” jihyo says. you pray that you look calm and collected, trying to mask your flustered-self with a smile. “i’ll let you change, just come out when you’re done sugar.” 

“yeah, thanks—and sorry.”  

jihyo shakes her head and waves off your apology with her hand. 

-- 

you’re back downstairs in a few minutes—minutes of jihyo (not so) subtly checking you out in her old clothes. 

matt asks if you’re okay, you answer with a nod and a smile. 

“my roommate keeps calling me, i should get going.” is muttered followed by an unnecessary peek into your tote bag, shuffling through to make sure you have everything. “thank you again for everything.” 

jihyo leads you to the door and sends matt up to get ready for school. she flattens out her own clothes, runs a hand through her hair, then watches you slip on your shoes from the front door. 

“you should stay for dinner more often y/n, i enjoyed it.” 

you chuckle awkwardly, then push a strand of hair back. “i enjoyed it too, though i’m sorry for spilling water everywhere.” 

“that’s quite alright, you could always make up for it by staying over. i like your company.”  

looking down at the ground, you smile bashfully and respond, “i’ll consider it. thank you again.”  

“drive safe pretty.” jihyo says, waving goodbye and shutting the door. 

- 

sarah sits on the opposite end of the couch and watches you closely.  

youre hugging your knees to your chest and smiling, making your roommate turn her head in confusion. “why’d you drag me to the couch.” 

“i need to tell you about today. about everything.” 

“make it quick, i have a lecture tomorrow morning for psych.” she sighs, crossing her arms and leaning against the couch. 

“so i’ve been tutoring that kid you know, the high school kid.” you start, and sarah nods as she hums. “yeah so basically i tutor him that one day at his school or whatever, then, he asks me to tutor him at his house.” 

“so he… wants you?” 

“no, absolutely not. plus, that’s like, a case.” you say with a shake of your hand, dismissing hee assumption. “but, speaking of age differences, i went to his house — his aunts house — and i was tutoring him and whatnot. then i hear someone knock on the door and he says it’s his aunt, so im unfazed or whatever because it’s probably this middle aged lady or whatever.” 

“right, so…?” 

“so i was fucking wrong.” you explain, sitting up now. “the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on walks in. she’s dressed in work clothes or something, all black, and she looks good.”  

“oh, so you’re gay.” sarah scoffs amusingly, quirking a brow. “am i supposed to be… surprised?” 

“can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me fully for once, please.” 

sarah rolls her eyes. “fine.” 

“okay so she calls me hon, then she says my hands are sweet — and keep in mind, this is the first time i’ve talked to her in person. then she calls me sweetheart?” 

“she’s being nice i think, considering she’s probably older than you. maybe you’re just gay, delusional, and haven’t gotten laid since… months ago?” 

“just because you and your girlfriend do it every time i’m out does not mean you have to shove it down my throat.” you scoff, “anyways, yeah no i thought that too, but then her nephew — the kid in tutoring — he tells me that she’s more generous with me and asks about me. i don’t think that’s being nice.” 

“that might just be curiosity and being nice, y/n.” 

“no hear me out okay,” sarah giggles as she watches you talk all animatedly with your hands moving after every couple of words. “she invited me for dinner — literally wanted me to stay, like insisted — then said i was too pretty to not be taken? and then she was saying that if ‘there were a beauty like you around, i would’ve made a move.’” 

sarah’s eyes widen, then her mouth opens slightly in shock. she leans closer to you, now fully invested knowing that this isn’t just another stretch of your interactions with women.  

“holy shit?” 

“i know.” you say, feeling your cheeks flush just from thinking about it. “and then you called and i spilled water and whatnot, she brought me to her room and—“ 

“you guys fucked?” 

“no!” you immediately say, a little too loud for that matter. “no, no.” you reassure, “though, i’m going to be honest i kind of wish—but that’s besides the point. she helped me out and patted down my tits — well my shirt but who cares, same thing — and then gave me her old sweatshirt. im literally wearing it right now and i remember her checking me out as soon as i changed into them.” 

“oh my god?” 

“yeah, and then you called again for me to come back or whatever and she told me to stay for dinner more often. now i’m here and that’s the end of the story.” 

sarah simply stares at you with wide eyes, her hand covering her slightly opened mouth. you place your hands on your face snd grown, feeling the heat of your cheeks on the skin of your hand. 

“i cant believe someone’s aunt wants you.” 

“i know!”  

“are you going to… sleep with her?” sarah asks, tilting her head. 

you find yourself lost in thought, often drifting into a world where she consumes your every waking moment - both at work and during classes. in these vivid daydreams, your thoughts sometimes stray to a more innocent realm. you envision the possibility of going on a simple date with her, where you can unravel the layers of her personality and just get to know her on a deeper level. because jihyo’s the type of woman that you want to sit down and get to know, that’s for sure.  

but to be honest, most of the time your mind wanders to far more… provocative scenarios. your imagination conjures up images of her completely unveiled, with a tantalizing desire to feel her hands caressing your every contour, leaving you to completely submit to her; to be ruined by jihyo personally. these fantasies consume you, their allure impossible to resist.  

“well, i don’t know.” you answer, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i still have to tutor her nephew.” 

“hmm… then focus on that and then sleeping with his aunt.” sarah suggests, giggling lightly before her phone buzzes. she looks at the screen and sees a text from her girlfriend, then smiles immediately. “speaking of sleeping with people, my girlfriend is picking me up. i’ll be out for the night.” 

you groan, still wanting sarah to listen to you while losing your mind and leave her own comments here and there. it’s almost impossible to get her away from her girlfriend. you’re so jealous and sarah loves to poke at you for being single and insatiable. 

“you’re unbelievable.” 

sarah shrugs, getting up with a cheeky grin. she snickers, “and you need to get laid. good luck with your little milf situation.” 

“she’s not his mom!” 

“same difference.” 

— 

the next time you tutor matt, you never get to talk or see jihyo. matt explains that she’s out for the night, something related to a business trip that he seems to not really care about. 

but you care, and you need to know when she’s back. unfortunately, tutoring comes first and the last thing you want to do is make it obvious that you have a crush on the aunt of the kid you’re tutoring. 

(matt has a little hunch; he notices the stares the both of you give each other when you two think no one is looking. matt is looking and definitely suspicious of how nervous you get around her and how generous his aunt is to you. though, he doesn’t have time to dive deeper in that since another physics test is clouding his brain for the time being.) 

you run into jihyo the day after that session with matt, but not as his house.  

there’s a place near the campus that’s now you and your friends’ signature study and hangout spot. it’s this cozy café and restaurant that the five of you have spent countless hours at either conversing and laughing for hours or losing your mind over whatever classes you guys take. this time, you’re all getting brunch together and debating something small. 

you excuse yourself and get in line to grab a drink since you only purchased a panini, thinking that would satisfy you. you were wrong. so, you stand in line for a bit, not really minding your surroundings while you tap through various instagram stories and scroll mindlessly. a minute later, you feel a tap on your shoulder while you’re halfway through a video your friend had posted. when you turn around you’re met with the face that has you lost in a momentary trance.  

“ah y/n, it’s nice to see you.” jihyo says. 

“oh, jihyo.” you respond, trying to hide your surprise and sudden nervousness. “it’s nice to see you too.” 

oh for sure it’s nice to see her. sunglasses sit on the top of her head, loose strands fall over her face, and the dress she’s wearing under her long coat looks divine. your eyes scan her whole body for a short moment, and then you’re clearing your throat as she starts to speak again. 

“are you here alone?” she asks you, looking you up in down in the process. 

“oh i’m with friends actually, they’re over by the window—“ you point to the group of four laughing together, all invested in the conversation at hand as the afternoon light brightens their smiles. “—we were just getting together and eating brunch.” you explain. 

“i see…” jihyo mumbles, looking over to your friends. she sounds a bit dissapointed, but you could be wrong about that.  

“what are you doing here? i mean, i don’t mean that in a rude way it’s just—“ 

jihyo smiles again, putting her hand on your shoulder as she laughs. “oh honey,” one of many things she calls you that makes your breath go short, “it’s fine, i get what you mean.” she trails down to your bicep, her skin warm on yours. “i was going to grab a drink before work, this is one of my favorite cafes.” 

“what a coincidence, it’s one of mine too.” 

jihyo subtly acknowledges your presence, her gaze gracefully trailing along your figure, delicately fixating on the tantalizing hint of skin peeking through your attire. her probing eyes pause there momentarily, capturing every nuance of the tempting groove down your tummy, accentuated by your low-rise jeans and revealing crop top. the ensemble effortlessly enhances your allure, inducing an irresistible appeal that’s impossible to ignore. as her gaze eventually retreats, it effortlessly returns to meet your own.  

“i suppose we have lots in common.” jihyo notes. 

“yeah,” you breath out, “i guess so.” 

“next in line please!” one of the the cashiers yells out, snapping you out of your daze. you apologize to him and then smile at jihyo before walking over and shuffling for the wallet in your shoulder bag.  

after getting your pistachio latte, you walk back to your friends and they beam at you. setting your bag down, you listen in on the conversation. 

“—and so, as i was saying, he kept making me pay for everything on the first date.” mai scoffs, crossing her arms. she’s a friend from your intro to education, lively and always has something to say. this time, it seems to be quite interesting. “look, i am a 50-50 girl and whatnot, but he asked me out and expects me to pay? i felt like there was a whole beard on my face and my balls dropped or something after paying for him. yeah, never again.” 

you laugh loudly, covering your mouth upon hearing the entertaining story.  

again – similar to just a few minutes ago – there’s a tap on your shoulder. your friends look at the woman behind you before you can, and once you set your look on her; your heart starts to beat again, a blush settling on your cheeks. 

“hey pretty, i was about to leave for work.” jihyo says with a smile, “can we talk for a bit? alone.”  

to your left, another one of your friends raises his eyebrows subtly. just with that small gesture alone, he manages ask without speaking: who’s this woman and why is she calling you pretty? though, you can’t answer him just yet. there’s no way you’d embarrass yourself in front of jihyo. 

you clear your throat and stutter just barely in your response. “hey, hi. um, yeah, sure. excuse me guys, i um, need to talk with her.”  

after sending an apologetic smile and earning various cheeky smiles, you nod at jihyo and find a spot near the window to talk to her. alone. she brushes a strand of hair out of your face and leans back to sit upright in her seat; you try to stay calm 

“i just wanted to ask for a favor, i completely forgot about it until i got a notification from my calendar.” 

“oh, what is it?”  

she looks out the window and sips on her iced drink, then turns back to meet your eyes. “well, i have a work dinner thing, a lot of… men will be there for the most part. i was wondering if you’d accompany me? i’m afraid i’d grow tired of their dull efforts to impress me, but it’s completely fine if you can’t make it.” jihyo says, although her tone near the end suggests that she’d be pretty disappointed with an answer other than yes. “i know it’s a big ask, but i’ve grown quite fond of you. is that ridiculous?” 

quickly, you dismiss her by waving your hands a bit frantically and shaking your head. you assure her, “it’s not ridiculous at all!” unintentionally, the volume of your voice spikes. “i’m actually um, really flattered that you feel that way, seriously. it also wouldn’t be any trouble – the dinner thing – id, um, i would love to accompany you.” 

jihyo finds herself blushing, surprisingly. she sips on the drink before setting it down on the marble counter side, then places her elbows on the table and her eyes smile, then her nose scrunches a bit.  

“right, that’s wonderful.” she says, “come over to my place tomorrow at 5:30 then?” you gulp upon hearing her words – practically an order with that tone and raise of her brow – then nod. she smiles and places her hand on your shoulder again, this time terribly close to the crook of your neck, her thumb brushing against your throat. “good, see you then.” 

“yeah,” you respond, not wanting to leave yet; your friends are waiting for you and jihyo has to go to work, so you begin to stand. “i’ll see you… my friends um, they’re—” 

“oh, yes, sorry for dragging you away—” 

“no!” you shake your hands again, cringing at how loud your voice grew (again). “they’re fine with it and i don’t want you to be late for work. we weren’t doing anything important anyway, just catching up.” 

she giggles and stands up to face you, eyes angled up slightly since she’s an inch or two shorter. she takes her hand off her skin and it feels specifically frigid in that area now that the warmth radiating off her fingers isn’t there, you almost shiver. 

“right, thanks hon. i’ll see you tomorrow yeah? shoot me a text when you get there, you have my number.” 

you nod and she hands her work bag on her shoulder, then starts to walk away – but not before winking at you. you smile, feeling your heart do a flip. 

when you return to your table, your friends are already eyeing you mischievously. mai has her straw sitting on her teeth, giving you that look. your jaw tightens and you smile at them before awkwardly sitting back in the previously empty seat, mentally preparing yourself in those two silent seconds before they all start bombarding you with questions and relentless teasing. 

- 

you arrived at jihyo’s house ten minutes early, a little earlier than you’d expected since the traffic wasn’t as bad. you walk down the small path leading to the steps, then up those three steps and onto the doormat. before you can even knock, the door opens and matt nearly bumps into you. 

he apologizes immediately, then looks at you with scrunched brows. 

“were we supposed to tutor today?” he asks, scratching his head with a finger. “if we were, sorry but i’ve got plans.” he says, nudging his head forward, making you turn around to see a honda civic parked on the street across. the windows are rolled down, revealing another guy that looks around his age in the drivers seat, another in the passengers side that you can barely see, and two girls in the back.  

“oh, no. jihyo called me over actually, not for you.” 

matt raises his brows, then his body relaxes. “oh.” 

“yeah, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“no it’s… fine.” he assures, looking at you skeptically. “have fun with… my aunt? um, whatever you two are… doing. i’m staying at a friends house tonight so…” 

“yeah, have fun.” you respond awkwardly, looking up at him as he observes you for a few seconds longer. the makeup on your face is slightly heavier than usual – not that it’s a bad thing, in fact he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the nice dress you were wearing. quite odd, he figures, but it’s not his business. he shrugs his shoulders and forgets about it, waving at you before he leaves, running over to the black honda civic that’s playing music at a volume so loud that you can hear it from the door. 

you forget about the whole encounter for a moment, instead redirecting your attention to the opened door in front of you. stepping inside, you get a whiff of the familiar lavender scent that fills the house, then close the door behind you. the house is silent until you send jihyo a text, and she responds a few seconds later by yelling from upstairs. 

“y/n! come upstairs darling!”  

you freeze in place, suddenly feeling intimidated for no reason. nonetheless, you walk on over to the stairs, then up to jihyo’s room. 

as you enter the room, her image captivates your attention in the mirror. the black dress she has on a pulls you towards her, reciprocating the intense attraction you both feel. the attraction that’s most definitely there, but jihyo’s a tease and you’re cautious. she likes that she has you wrapped around her finger. it’s amusing how easily flustered you get around her. 

the sight of her is nothing short of exquisite, and your gaze fixates on the enticing curve of her hips, igniting a subtle pulse in between your legs hunger that has you subconsciously nibbling on your lip. glancing further upwards, you indulge in the sight of her exposed shoulders, showcased gracefully in the mirror's reflection. they exude a provoking attraction, tempting you to succumb to your countless daydreams. you want to explore the softness of her skin, want to leave indelible marks on her delicate collarbones. 

in the midst of your blatant stare, her eyes lock with yours through the mirror, catching you in the act of unabashedly admiring her. she laughs, then she turns around to face you, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips. 

“like what you see?” she teases you, making your cheeks burn.  

you clear your throat and pretend to busy yourself by looking into your bag, but manage to respond politely, “i um—sorry. matt let me in, he just left.” 

she starts to step towards you, and you feel yourself gulp unintentionally.  

“mhm, he told me about the sleepover.” she says, then stands inches away from you. using her pointer and thumb, she tilts your chin up and away from the bag hung on your shoulder, intensely gazing at you for a moment before speaking again. “you look remarkable.” 

your breath hitches as you look at her, eyes drilling into yours while you try to stay calm. “t-thank you.” 

she eyes you for a while longer before nodding, then smiles at you like she didn’t just eye fuck you. 

“let’s get going, there’s good parking if we arrive early. less of a hassle for us.” 

all you can do is hum and follow her, afraid of embarrassing yourself from how flustered and inaudible you are. 

- 

the car ride consisted of you trying to not stare at her sharp, defined features the whole time. it was very difficult to not glance here and there, a few times you had your eyes glued on her godly cheekbones and sometimes you even eyed the way her bones would pop out when she turned the wheel.  

during the car ride, you found it increasingly challenging to avert your gaze from her captivating, exquisitely sculpted features. the temptation to steal a glimpse here and there proved irresistible, as her godly cheekbones held your attention.  

at times, you couldn't help but be captivated by the protrusion of her bones as she maneuvered the steering wheel. after eyeing it for too long, jihyo caught you in her peripheral and turned to face you – the light was red anyway – then smiled cheekily. she moved her hand towards your thigh, placing it dangerously close to the dampening area in between your legs. 

“you alright lovely? you seem a little tense.” jihyo asks, rubbing your thigh with her thumb just barely. “something on your mind?” 

you fought back a low whimper before you respond, “i’m fine, thanks.” you try, voice small as she adds more pressure to your skin. you try your best to remain calm and composed, but god it’s so hard when she’s touching you there and like that. “it’s not important, i was just daydreaming.” 

(your daydreaming will be increasingly explicit from now on.) 

the light turns green and jihyo puts her hand back on the wheel as she turns away from you, redirecting her attention on the road. your jaw tenses and you shift in the seat a little, thighs closing and rubbing together. 

jihyo pretends not to notice and fights back a smirk. 

-- 

the two of you would enter the restaurant together with jihyo linking your arms and smiling at you like she didn’t just make you ten times hornier than you already are daily. 

as you enter, you are immediately mesmerized by the extraordinary interior. the lighting casts an enchanting, almost mystical ambiance, wrapping the space in an intimate aura. the arrangement of tables is meticulously planned, each one positioned with precision and attention to detail. the sheer beauty of the place is breathtaking, leaving you in awe. it’s evident that reservations at this place come with a hefty price tag, most definitely surpassing the cost of more than half of your apartment's monthly rent; maybe almost as much as what you and sarah pay together.  

jihyo leans in closer to your ear, lips brushing against your skin and it sends a shiver down your spine. “come lovely, let’s find our seats.” she says, then walks you over with her to the man with slicked back hair and an impossibly perfect posture. he gives you the table number and holds his arm out in the direction of it, then jihyo thanks him with that weirdly arousing voice she has and tugs on your arm lightly. 

there are other men that are scattered around the dining area, they all notice jihyo as soon as she steps in – who wouldn’t? 

she’s stone faced as she walks with you and towards the table, her stern expression unfazed by the stares from men that aren’t accompanied by their respective lovers. though, maybe those with their own lover took a small glimpse. 

you feel a little small, most eyes are on jihyo though a good amount also land on you. it seems that the two of you have taken the attention of the majority, which freaks you much as much as it flatters you. jihyo seems to notice the attention on you too, then subtly brings you closer to her.  

jihyo sits down first and flattens out her outfit before she fixes her hair, then pats down the seat next to her. you sit down and she brings your chair a little closer before leaning towards your ear and speaking again. 

“thank you for coming, i wouldn’t have been able to make it to the table this quickly if it weren’t for you.” 

you hum, then ask, “why is that?” 

“the men here are shameless, they hit on me dinner after dinner.” jihyo sighs, then lowers her voice when she says, “i guess they were too distracted by you. you’re a sight worth skipping dinner for.” 

you gulp, laughing off her suggestive compliment before boldly responding, “i think most would much rather… indulge in you. i get their standpoint, though.”  

as you begin to fix the delicate fabric of your dress, a subtle flicker of surprise dances within jihyo's widened eyes. with her grip on her handbag growing tighter, her gaze shifts towards you, a newfound intensity in her look. you turn to look right back in her eyes, almost challenging her with this new confidence of yours. it’s in this moment that the unspoken connection seems to deepen, the tension drawing you two closer. the allure she now feels towards you, layered with a hint of curiosity and urge to undress you, is palpable yet carefully restrained. 

three more men greet jihyo formally and she smiles forcefully at them before they take their seats and indulge in their own conversation. the menus are handed once everyone settles in and everyone glances at the options. the selection intimidates you; half the dishes incorporate foreign words that you had never heard of.  

jihyo places her hand on your thigh again, this time higher than before. she looks at you with those drilling brown eyes and squeezes a bit.  

“know what you’d like?” 

your breath shakes reluctantly, but you respond with a leveled tone. “yeah, the chicken chasseur.” there’s a ninety percent chance you butchered that pronunciation, half of the reason was because you never really paid attention in your french three class your junior year of high school, and the other half was because jihyo’s fingers started tracing patterns into the flesh of your thigh. 

“right, the chasseur,” she says teasingly, pronouncing it correctly. “that’s one of my favorites.” 

“i see, i’ll definitely like it then.” 

“mhm.”  

the waiter comes by – the same guy with the slicked back hair – he introduces himself in a deep, formal tone. it catches you off guard that his name is so simple: michael. he takes all of your orders, then collects each menu. as soon as he leaves, one of the men at the table attempt to strike up some small talk with jihyo, and she responds with blunt, uninterested answers. the men are left intimidated and out of luck, then try to succeed in initiating a meaningful conversation with you. 

“what was your name dear?” one says, his features implying that he’s not too far off from how old your parents are.  

hesitantly, you respond with a polite “y/n,” before smiling respectfully. he narrows his eyes and smirks before glancing down, it leaves you uneasy. jihyo clears her throat and sends daggers at him with her glare. 

“how are you and your wife, samuel?” she questions, quirking a brow before your waiter arrives with a bottle of white and red wine. the man who’d bee blatantly chekcing out your chest area grimaces, then fakes a smile. 

“we’re doing fine.” he says a little sternly, then halts his attempts at socializing with you. 

you send jihyo a thankful glance, she responds with a grin before swirling the white wine in her glass and giving a sip, then sips. 

“this is good, have some dear.” she says, urging you with a tilt of her head to try some of the identical wine in your own glass. “do you like wine?” 

“kind of, i mean, i never really indulge...” your response gives you a quick flashback of the various cheap selections of alcoholic drinks you’ve downed at house parties you’d attend here and there. you grab your glass and copy what jihyo does – you don’t really know how to sip on wine without it looking like you can’t even afford three sips – then raise your brows in surprise once you get a taste. it's sharp and fruity, much richer than the past drinks you’ve had. 

“good?” jihyo says amusingly, observing your expression. 

“it’s wonderful.” 

she grins at you, then gances around the table hastily. two of the men continue to glance over even as they talk withe ach other, it seems that you two just can’t escape the attention. the appetizers arrive a minute later and the two of you indulge, unable to create any small talk or anything like that with your company. jihyo decides she’s craving a different type of appetizer as soon as she sees you wipe your lip subtly. 

“come with me to the restroom, the main courses won’t be out for a little while.” jihyo insists, then looks around at the men busy with their bread, butter, and various other appetizers that sound too complicated for how they look. “besides, i'd rather be alone with you than surrounded by them for the time being.” 

once again, a tremor of anticipation seeps through you, your breath quivers with a mix of nerves and eagerness. jihyo just get’s bolder by the second. 

although it’s a simple trip to the restroom – a countless number of times you and your friends have scurried off to the comofrting ‘sanctuary’ of the girls’ room for meaningless conversations and minuscule touches of makeup – yet, with jihyo accompanying you now instead of your stupid best friends, your mind is propelled into an intricate labyrinth of scenarios, infused with explicit scenarios that jihyo stars in.  

- 

jihyo gracefully positions herself before the strangely exquisite mirror, which is not only unreasonably large and fancy, but it also manages to delicately enhance her plump lips after applying a fresh coat of lipstick. as she caresses her captivating pout, you become mesmerized by the subtle dance of her lips, gently gliding against each other like silk. she releases her pursed lips with a faint “pop” sound before she looks at you through the mirror. 

“daydreaming again?” jihyo asks. you shake your head and walk over to the sink next to her before fixing your hair for no apparent reason. a smirk tugs at her lip sbefore she turns so that her back is facing you. “zip up my dress for me? seems to have gone loose.” 

without a word, you move your hands over to deftly maneurver the zipper along the length of her dress. the entire tableau unfolds so quickly, though there’s an unexpected intamacy that lingers in the air, seeming slightly out of place but it’s also undeniably enticing. your hold your breath unknowingly. 

“you know y/n,” jihyo starts, your hands still on the zipper. “you’re so easy to rile up, it’s cute.” 

“what?” you respond with disbelief, pretending that her statement isn’t the turth. she turns around and tilts her head, eyes narrowing as she draws her attention down to your lips – now parted – then brings a thumb to graze the bottom lip. 

“c’mon baby, think i didn’t notice how you were in the car?” she chuckles, now moving her fingers down to your chin and moving and pushing down on your chin to tilt your head down just barely. “staring at my chest and all of me so clearly in my own house... darling, do you think i’m a fool?” 

you gulp, her eyes peering into yours and waiting for an answer. you’re absolutely dumbfounded, cheeks burning violently. 

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to--” 

“oh honey, i'm not against it.” she assures, smiling at you and bringer her hand down to play with the dainty necklace around you rneck. “if anything, i want you just as much as you seem to crave me.” 

“i--” 

she cuts you off, pressing a chaste peck to your lips. when she pulls away, you subconciously lean forward to catch her lips again, whining lowly. jihyo giggles softly before putting her thumb against your lips, adding pressure to halt your eagerness. 

“gosh, you’re adorable.” jihyo says, “i could just ruin your pretty little self right here.” 

“jihyo, please” 

she laughs, pleased, raising her brows and smirking at this new, desperate y/n she’s brought to the surface.  

“tell me how much you want me and i'll let you have more, can you do that?” 

your cheeks are on fire and so are your ears. jihyo pulls away further so she can fully see your face, stroking her knuckles down the curve of your cheek. you swallow shallowly before opening your mouth to speak, but hesitate.  

“c’mon baby, use your words for me. you can do that, can’t you?” 

“yes, yeah,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice stable. jihyo smiles, then presses a haste kiss to your jaw. your breath out shakily, bringing a hand to jihyo’s forearm.  

this has to be a dream, there’s no way matt’s aunt is this close to you – and like this. jihyo's pressing kisses down your jawline and neck, nibbling softly and eliciting sharp breaths. everything feels unreal, it’s so unexpected and you don’t know what to do while she brings a knee in between your legs. 

“i’m going to stop if you don’t tell me what you want pretty girl.” 

you sigh, almost moaning at the way her voice bounces off your skin.  

“someone’s going to walk in...” you mumble, placing your hand on her waist. 

“isn’t that part of the thrill?” jihyo asks, “tell me what you want.” 

“kiss me, please jihyo.” 

“that all?” 

of course it’s not all, you want to be pushed to the point of tears and incoherent sobs – but not here, not now. you can only groan at the untimely situation, wanting jihyo to take your time with you someplace less unorthodox. 

“when we go back... i want you to... do more.” you mumble shyly, watching jihyo move away from your neck so that she’s inches away from your face. her lips curl up into a mischievous smile as she twirls your hair. 

“i’ll take it easy on you for now,” jihyo chuckles, “come here.” 

without hesitation you lean forward, messily and eagerly meeting jihyo’s lips again. the two of you get used to everything and ease into each other’s contact, jihyo leading the way. she tugs on your bottom lip gently and you gasp, which gives her the chance to slide her tongue in and explore your mouth. 

you’ve madeout with girls countless times, but it’s always been messy, rushed, and the only thing you could taste and smell was cheap aochol. your past experiences have been nothing like what’s happening right now. 

you can taste the hints of fruit and slight vanilla in that expensive white wine from earlier, it’s even better when you get to taste it off of jihyo. she tastes divine. she’s so precise and skilled with her tongue and lips, immediately adjusting to the pace of the moment and ultimately leaving your knees weak. jihyo's fucking skilled, she knows what she’s doing and everything feels so goddamn euphoric. 

she pushes you against the marble of the sink area and you moan into her mouth when she squeezes your ass, making her smirk against your lips cheekily. you’re like a puppet in her control, and she knows just the right movements and subtle touches to get you going. 

jihyo pulls away suddenly and you whine, trying to pull her back. she holds you in place firmly, lingering near your lips and chuckling against them.  

“why-- why did you stop?” you ask desperately, pathetically pinching the fabric of her dress tighter.  

“pretty girl, you’ve forgotten where we are haven’t you? the main course might be out.” 

“but jihyo--” 

“listen,” she says sternly, sending a shiver down your spine. a soft smile is displayed, which soothes your nerves after witnessing it. jihyo tucks your hair behind her ear. “let’s make a deal, how about that?” 

“okay,” 

“if you can...” she starts, twirling the hair on the nape of your neck. “...be good for me and stay patient, then i'll reward you when we get back to the house. can you be good for me pretty?” 

a lump forms in your throat, making it difficult to respond. you try your best to do so anyway. 

“mhm, i can.” 

“good. i'd love to ruin you right here, don’t get me wrong, but there’s other guests that expect me to be present.” 

fuck those other guests, you need to take her right here and right now. she can’t just rile you up like this, give you the best makeout session of your life and then end it so abruptly. regardless, she possesses an innate power - she's jihyo. you're completely enthralled and under her control anyway, whether you know it or not. 

she lets out a cold, menacing chuckle and flashes you a provocative grin. she delicately reshapes your disheveled hair and then tends to her own cascade flowing down. you can feel the lingering presnce of her own lips on yours -- slightly swollen and vividly tinted -- and although jihyo remains unfazed by the evidence of her artistry, it's clear she revels in your visible discomposure. if others were to connect the dots, she couldn't care less; if anything, she welcomes it. she's evil, and all you want is more of her. 

so you’ll have to behave for the time being, because who knows what she’s capable of. 

- 

“ah, you’re back park. the food got here ten minutes ago.” samuel says, raising a brow in suspicion.  

the men’s plates are already half eaten, and then there’s two plates that are left untouched on the table. jihyo eyes you, raising her brow before elegantly reaching for her utensils. 

she clears her throat and lies, “lady troubles.” which earns a flush on each of the men’s faces, and a brief apology from samuel. 

the remainder of the dinner becomes utterly unbearable. it’s not just the men engaging in dumb, uninteresting conversations -- which require you to perform an artificial smile, direct focus, and provide meaningless responses - but underneath the table, jihyo teases you. her delicate hand grazes your thigh intermittently. the whole thing is excruciating, causing an overwhelming surge of sexual frustration that genuinely throbs between your legs. the only thing you crave right now is her touch again; you don’t know how many more times you can utter “oh how interesting,” before exploding completely. 

an hour passes and it’s finally time for jihyo to bid her farewells, finally. 

the farewells’ had to take at least ten minutes, since jihyo’s pretty high up there in whatever she does. you never really knew, but it wasn’t your place to ask. 

jihyo unlocks her black porsche, which is remarkably eye-catching, though not as much as the driver. you get in the passenger's side and she’s already inside turning the engine on, one hand on the stick. she backs up smoothly, then gets out of the parking lot quickly. 

the car ride is almost silent for three-quarters, the only thing that pokes at the tension is jihyo’s hand on your thigh. she's driving one handed, it’s a common skill – you drive one handed here and there – but when jihyo does it, your thighs try to ease whatever is going on in between. 

“did you enjoy the meal?” jihyo asks, eyes on the road. 

“yeah, it was great.” 

“mhm,” she hums, then squeezes your flesh a bit. “how was the dessert? did it suit your tastes?” 

you let out a shallow breath, “yeah.” 

“good.” jihyo says, then smiles to herself. “we’re almost home.” 

you can only hum in response, growing impatient. 

jihyo clicks a button and the garage door opens, then drives in slowly. she has to be doing this on purpose, just to test you. you’re going to endure the aching, because at the end of the rainbow there’s always gold, and you’re her good girl. 

when you enter the house, it’s completely dark, then jihyo turns on the light and you have to fight the urge to kiss her again. 

“come,” she orders, turning to walk towards the stairs to the second floor. she's swaying her hips a little on purpose, she must be – or you’re just horny, or both. 

finally, after what seemed like centuries, you make it to her room. she closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

“sit down on the bed for me.” you do as you’re told wihtout hesitation, sitting down on the soft mattress of the king sized bed. the sheets are perfectly set on the bed, so are the blankets and pillows, but something tells you that it won’t be like that by the end of this night. “good girl.” 

she glides towards you, delicately raising your chin and fixing her gaze upon you, like an artist admiring a masterpiece. she revels in the sight of your flushed cheeks, the gentle parting of your lips, and the slight up turn of your brows, all traits that make this vulnerable rendition of you enticingly irresistible. her eyes grow dark, consumed by a yearning that she has now ardently realized; this is what she’s been wanting ever since she first laid eyes on you. 

“clothes off for me sweetheart.” immediately, you start to slip yourself out of the dress. jihyo decides to be generous, helping you out a bit since she’s quite eager herself.  

now, you find yourself perched delicately on the edge of her bed, goosebumps on your skin even as warmth envelops you. you’re nearly exposed, clad only in delicate undergarments that hold jihyo's gaze captive. a sigh escapes her lips, swiftly followed by a mischievous smirk, a telltale sign of her satisfaction.  

jihyo's going to have the meal of her life, nothing she had for dinner that night would ever compare to you. she hasn’t even gotten a taste of your arousal yet, but she already knows. 

“you’re beautiful,” she mutters before closing the distance, kissing you on the lips. you sink into all of it: the hand on your cheek, the knee shifting in between your legs, and simply her touch.  

she maneuvers your body onto the bed, positioning herself on top, ensnaring your legs with her own. with an air of urgency, she kisses you harshly, whisking away the very essence of oxygen from your lungs. she pulls away to see you all hot and heavy, watching the desperate rise and fall of your chest while your eyes meet hers in a gaze brimming with insatiable lust.  

“up,” she mutters, to which to respond by propping yourself on your elbows. she skillfully works away at the clasp of your bra, unclipping it and throwing the garment some place off the bed. “god, you’re so beautiful, you know?” jihyo says before fastening her lips on your neck, sucking violently. 

as your voice becomes stifled, attempting to form words proves worthless under jihyo's intimate touch. she delicately explores your body, her lips grazing your neck, causing shivers to cascade down your spine. the symphony of your helpless moans resonates wonderfully, she just wants every ounce of pleasure you can offer, greedy for all of you. 

“f-fuck, oh my god...” you groan helplessly, squirming under jihyo as her mouth starts to tend to your tits. your hand lands in her hair, gripping tightly as her tongue swirls around your perked up bud. her tongue was great in your mouht, but holy shit it’s ten times better when pushing you near your climax. she hasn’t even touched the ache in between in your legs and you feel like you could cum right then and there. 

jihyo gets up and looks down on you like a predator would with its prey, eyeing your vulnerable, exposed body that she’s ravenous for. there are marks along your neck and chest, jihyo’s artwork looking better than anything a museum could hold. 

she still has her dress on, though it swiftly finds the floor in a few moments. your gaze becomes fixed upon her, witnessing a new prize the further the dress drops down. in the wake of this unveiling, she stands before you, clad only in undergarments—pricey, hot looking ones. your eyes fixate upon her chest and the sight of her tits leaves you wide eyed. the alluring contours of her abdomen draw your attention next, effortlessly accentuating her absolutely unreal, fit body. she leans back slightly and her ass catches your attention, rendering you speechless. everything about her is divine and you find yourself completely engulfed in desire.  

all of this is so unreal and you figure it has to be one of those dreams that gets cut off by the alarm for your morning classes; but no, this is real, it’s especially real as jihyo slides her hand down from the top of your chest to just above your waist. her fingers tease the fabric covering your cunt, tantalizingly grazing it. 

“want me inside baby?” jihyo asks, subtly sticking her fingers under the edges of the fabric. you nod desperately, which makes jihyo laugh. “gosh you’re so wet honey, need me that badly?” she teases, and you can only respond with a weak hum. 

she slides off your panties quickly, you whimper pathetically in response as her skin encounters wetness. 

her fingers glide slowly along your folds, easily moving up and down with how aroused you are. she brings her fingers back to her lips, getting a faint taste as your back subconciously arches against the mattress.  

“want me inside?” 

“please.” 

“beg harder.” jihyo chuckles, moving her fingers back to your pussy and teasing you carelessly as she lightly slides up and down the damp folds.“i won’t let you get it that easy. if you want something i want to hear you say it, sugar.” 

you whine, breathing out through your parted lips.  

“please, i need your fingers inside jihyo,” you sigh, voice all nasally and airy. “i want you to fuck me how you want, just make me cum please, you can have your way with me i don’t care. fuck, i'm all yours.” 

“perfect.” she says, then harshly pushes two fingers into your dripping cunt. your head shoots back into the pillow it’s on and your fingers grip the sheets tightly, the curse you cry out practically echoes throughout the room.  

she pounds into you with those slender fingers, maneuvering skillfully inside and out, curving at the right spots and leaving you breathless. tears form at the corners of your eyes, her other hand holds you down, pushing down on the middle of your torso to keep you from squirming so much. 

the amount of pressure she adds to your clit occasionally renders you weak, you’re a moaning, squirming hot mess and jihyo has never been this turned on in years. 

an indescribable sound escapes your lips, a melodic symphony of affirmation and inclination. jihyo's fingers plunge in and out, in and out – delving deeper into the depths of your core with each intoxicating thrust. she retreats momentarily before venturing even further, introducing a third digit into the hypnotic rhythm.  

i'm fucked. 

there was this sensation of being utterly reinvigorated, inside and out, in the most euphoric way that only your moans could describe. you've never been fucked this good, seriously, you can’t remember the last time you’ve been this turned on and goddamn submissive. it's insane how quick and easy jihyo managed to do it. 

the knot in your stomach seems tighter and you’re about to find out just how goddamn well it feels to come undone because of park fucking jihyo. matt's aunt. 

“f-fuck i'm, hnnh i'm so close--” you whimper, voice dying down in your throat, “p-please,”  

“god you’re so beautiful,” jihyo says right before hitting your clit with her palm as she pushes into you. then, with a stronger arch and near sob, you tighten around her fingers and grip the sheets tightly, clinging on for dear life as you reach your high.  

jihyo pulls her fingers out and massages your clit lightly, still stimulating you as you recover. your legs are shaking, still, and your ribs are exposed as you lay there and breathe heavily.  

“be a good girl for me, y/n, you can do that. you will.” jihyo says before slamming into you again with three digits, making you gasp from surprise and pleasure. you've barely had time to recover, and yet jihyo is torturing you yet again. 

it feels like your pussy is being torn to shreds, you can hear the “squelch” and clap with every point of contact. 

you try to say something – exactly what, jihyo doesn’t know or minds because she’s too infatueted with every jolt and twitch of your body – and then you let out another loud cry that sounds something like “fuck,” before your body goes limp, twitching every now and then.  

she pulls her hand out – dampened with your clear arousal – and gets a taste of her middle and pointer finger. she drags her fingertips up along your torso -- sending a shiver down your spine – then brings her damp fingers to your mouth. 

“open.” 

without hesitation, you comply, tasting your own arousal off her skin by swirling your tongue messily. your eyes lock with hers before you suck, going down to the base of where her fingers connect and sliding up until you get all of your arousal off. 

“good girl.” 

she slides down your body, now she’s facing your cunt directly. you shiver in anticipation, a little scared but for the most part turned on one hundred times more than ever. she presses a sweet kiss to your pussy – quite different from how ruthless she was earlier – before she indulges, making you press the back of your hand against your forehead. 

god her tongue, it’s like it’s made to leave girls like you fighting for air. she holds your thighs, pressing her fingers into your flesh as she absolutely devours you. it's not too long before you feel that same knot in your stomach, and this time to leave you screaming she simply flattens her tongue against your sensitivity and sucks on your clit harshly. 

there's tears on your cheeks now, and more start to trail down as jihyo starts to fuck you dumb again. whatever is leaving your mouth is incoherent, practically gibberish as you squirm around. she forcefully spreads your thighs apart – which says a lot about her stretngth considering how you’re getting fucked into oblivion – keeping oyu in place even as you start to turn your body and roll onto your side desperately.  

“you taste so, mmh, good.” jihyo mumbles, “fuck, this is better than the dessert we had.” 

you can barely comprehend what she’s saying because your minds so goddamn foggy and you’re literally sobbing from how overwhelming everything is. but it feels so good, if she stopped you’d be crying for a different reason rather than pleasure. 

jihyo feels your thighs shake beside her head, then feels a hand on her head gripping her hair tightly and pushing down against your cunt before the trembling stops. the cry you let out stops before it leaves your mouth, so you cum with an airy, choked out sob.  

jihyo's gaze fixates upon your pulsing, swollen cunt – dripping with your sweet arousal. she rises to her knees, gracefully straddling you, drawing her attention to the rise and fall of your chest. your disheveled hair frames your features, adorned with a rosy flush and the remnants of tears. a soft smile dances upon her lips, a testament to the mess she’s made. 

jihyo falls down to your tummy, scattering feathery kisses. she ascends to your chest, your neck, and at last, your lips. you kiss her sloppily, weakly reaching to cup her cheek while she traps your top lip between both of hers. she pulls away and fixes up your hair, then rubs her thumb along your tear stained skin. 

“you did so good for me baby,” she assures, watching you sniffle. “are you alright?” 

“yeah.” you mumble weakly, smiling softly at her. “i just, need to relax.” you chuckle softly before jihyo pecks your lips again. 

“i’ll help you clean up, stay here pretty.” jihyo says, rubbing your rib with her thumb softly. 

-- 

the two of you wake up an hour before lunch the next morning. jihyo rubs your thigh with her hand, massaging it to reduce the soreness. she insists that you two get up since matt is coming over in a few hours and it takes a while for you to get down the stairs without falling – jihyo did a great job, your legs are wobbly and aching– but nonetheless you make it downstairs to the kitchen. 

jihyo lets you set your head on your cross arms over the counter since you’re so drowsy, she laughs and presses a kiss before fetching ingredients for lunch. you watch her with tired eyes; her muscles flex and tense as she assembles the ingredients for the sandwiches, leaving you stupidly mesmerized. 

you get up and stretch your arms out, then walk over to the older woman. a short giggle leaves your lips as you wrap your hands around jihyo’s waist, she laughs wholeheartedly. 

“did you need something?” 

you kiss her head and linger before responding, “no, you just looked good from the back.” 

“i have to cook lunch, matt is coming home in an hour.” jihyo says, turning to face you, lips inches away from yours.  

as you carefully adjust the stovetop temperature to a low, your gaze lands on jihyo, prompting a mischievous smile to play upon your lips. your hands rest on her waist, you turn her body to face you, drawing her nearer with a subtle bite of your lip. jihyo rolls her eyes, a familiar exchange between you both, before your lips meet, you smile into it as you always do. 

jihyo guides you towards the kitchen island, never relenting on the heat of her kisses. an involuntary groan escapes your lips as she playfully bites your lower lip, igniting subtle throbbing sensations in you. her lips, feather-light, wander along your jawline, slowly tracing the curves of your face like a breeze meeting petals of a flower.  

mindful of your pleasure, you tilt your head back, granting her unrestricted access. her tongue traces your sensitive skin, a captivating and sensuous touch that sends shivers down your spine. jihyo has this power of leaving you breathless in seconds. in the moments between kisses, delightful giggles escape jihyo's lips. 

“you’re such a--” another kiss to your jaw, “--tease.” jihyo says unbelievably.  

“and you’re the one who’s ah- enjoying this.” 

jihyo squeezes your ass gently before kissing your lips again, backing you into the marble of the counter and placing her hands on the edge as she smiles into you. 

lost in pleasure and eagerness, the two of oyu fail to hear the sound of the door being unlocked, opened, and then closed. jihyo's hand slides just barely under your shirt, tickling your ribcage with the brush of her fingers. you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer, turning your head a little more to get a better taste, to get more of jihyo. 

“um, y/n?” a voice interrupts the two of you, and it’s too familiar.  

it unfolds like a movie scene; you and jihyo turn to find matt standing there, gripping a backpack strap tightly, his visage a mix of appalled and perplexed. in a rush of apprehension, both of you instinctively release each other, striving to create as much distance as possible while smoothing down stray strands of hair and meticulously adjusting wrinkled garments. 

“matt,” jihyo says, trying to recompose herself—but the blush on her cheeks doesn’t die down whatsoever. “you’re home early. i thought you were coming back at 1?” 

“yeah...” he says awkwardly, embarassed and flushed as he tries to avoid any eye contact. “i was just going to say hi and um, work on homework.” 

“alright, i was just making dinner with--” jihyo clears her throat, “y/n.” 

matt looks between the two of you, narrowing his eyes and sighing.  

“how long have you two been... doing this?” 

you and jihyo exchange a look before you decide to speak up this time, “let’s all sit down at the table and talk about this, how about that?” 

now, you’re trying to form the words to explain that you’ve fucked some kid's aunt the night before, and jihyo’s trying to do properly conjure up a sentence that explains the marks on your neck. 

[im-am-not-a-weenie]

🍓playing with their hair for the first time

Writing bg3 hc Now! Will also still be doing rdr2 a/n at the bottom for more info! spelling errors

Gn Reader

Gale, astarion,halsin,

Establish relationships

🍓Gale

You see Gale sitting all alone enjoying a good book. He always looked cute when he was enjoying what he was reading, he looked so concentrated and expressive

You couldn’t help but walk over to the wizard. “Mind if I join you?”. He smiled and patted the ground beside him “Of course, what’s better than a good book? Good company to share it with”

You sat down and made yourself comfortable ” What are you reading” You looked curiously over at the book in the wizard's hands. “Ah, It’s nothing really, just another tail of dragons and knights. I could read it aloud if you wish?”

He looked a bit nervous “On second thought you’ve probably grown tired of hearing my voice”. You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze “Never”

You laid back, Gale didn’t look very comfortable, being hunched over “Here,” you said sweetly and pulled him down so his head was on your lap “Better?” He looked a little stiff but quickly regained his composure “Yes, yes it’s quite nice”

As He started to read Your hand absentmindedly went to his hair, and your fingers started to card through his brown locks, you felt him tense but then relax back into it

You closed your eyes and leaned your head back listening to him read, but after a long you heard him trail off, opening one of your eyes to peek at him you could see he was starting to doze

With a smile, you gently took the book out of his hands “Huh?” He opened his eyes to look at you. ”you were falling asleep” your hand still in his hair

“Could You…could you maybe keep doing that?” Gale mutters sheepishly. You just laughed softly and smiled

That night Gale fell asleep with a smile on his face and your hands in his hair

🍓astarion

The party decided it would be best to stay at a tavern that night, treating themselves and of course, astarion headed straight towards where the bath was located

It had been an hour and still no sign of him, getting a tad bit worried you decided to go check on him, you knocked on the door softly “Star? Are you alright in there?” You were met with a muffled “Yes darling quite alright”

After a few minutes you hesitantly “Can…can I come in?" he automatically responded with a "Yes darling"

as you opened the door thick clouds of steam poured out. "hurry my love, we wouldn't want it to get cold in here now would we?" astarion was sitting in a bath you could only assume was boiling hot water "Star, how hot is that bath? your skin is red" he waved off your concern

"now what did you need?" his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "I was hoping to join you honestly" his expression dropped as he opened his mouth to speak but then closed it

"You can say no" your voice filled with nothing but love and encouragement. he hesitates for a moment before finally saying "It's just I don't believe the tub would be big enough for us both that's all" he flashed you a charming smile. you knew there was a deeper reason but didn't push

"i was actually thinking of just sitting in here with you. Would that be ok?' he looked taken aback "You just wish to sit here with me that's all?" you gave a nod "Well I mean who wouldn't want to sit here and marvel at my beauty, go ahead"

as he reached for the soap you beat him to it "Here let me." pouring a generous amount of soap into your hands, making your way behind him, first lathering the soap in your hands before sinking them into his hair

"What are you doing?" his body tensed up slightly. "washing your hair what does it look like" teased him with a sweet voice as your fingers gently massaged his head. "I get that darling but why?" his voice sounded unsure, not used to non-sexual intimacy.

"Because I love you, and you deserve to get pampered" his breath caught in his throat and quickly cleared it "Of course I do, I'm glad we're on the same page." you gave him a small laugh as you kept washing his hair, he closed his eyes and lent back into your hands. you swear you could hear him purring

you both sat in comfortable silence until he softly said "I love you too" You could hear the faint smile on his lips without having to see it

🍓Halsin

this morning was a rare morning, not only did you wake up early voluntarily, but you woke before Halsin which never happened. (to be fair he just got back from a long and exhausting journey but still!)

waking up feeling warm. not sure if it was because of how the sun was hitting your face or because of the giant man holding you close to him

your eyes fluttered open and you were met with the sight of a sleeping Halsin. he looked peaceful. the sun made him look radiant, glowing almost, as his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm. something else caught your eye. he had his hair down

yes his hair was always down but it was always pulled back, but this morning it sprawled messily over his pillow, and a couple stray strands laid on his face. you couldn't help but reach out and brush it away

his eyebrows frowned before he quietly spoke "Your hands are cold" You quickly retracted your hand. "sorry" you whispered back, Halsins eyes opened slolwy. blinking away the sleep, he smiled and grabbed your hand and placed it back on his cheek, and kissed the palm of your hand. "it's ok my heart"

you could feel your face heat up all you could do was smile dumbly "It's down" was all you said and tucked a few more pieces behind his ear. "does it bother you my heart?' you shook your head, all too eager to see the druid with his hair down. "no, I like it"

running your hand through his usually well-kept hair. "how is it so soft" you wondered out loud, Halsin just chuckled and let you have your fun.

he let out a content sigh. "awfully affectionate this morning. not that I mind" his lips pressed against your forehead. "Is something the matter?"

"no, I just missed my bear that's all" You studied his face, taking in every detail. "I think I finally understand the whole "appreciate nature's gift" thing." the druid just laughed warmly and shook his head fondly

the two of you spent all morning like that. his arms wrapped around you and you playing with his hair

🍓A/N

hey guys im back! so much as happened i graduated and im 19 now? life has been crazy!! i know this is different from my usual content but playing baulders gate gave me inspiration to write again. dont worry i will still take requests for RDR2 but i will also be writing for BG3. With that said im cleaning out my inbox so if you see your request finally go through a year later.............🤷‍♀️. i will also be taking BG3 requests. i did astarion, gale, and halsin i think i can write them comfortably. but do not be scared to request other characters if you really wanna see me write for them or have a really specific scenario in mind. i will also try to post every other Wednesday

love yall and thx for the support <3

[notanactressyayy]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫

— ₊⊹ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 . Natasha Romanoff x reader

— ₊⊹ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 . in which she finally feels heard, seen.

— ₊⊹ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . angst, emotional breakdown (panic attack), swearing, mentions of scars (sh), mentions of suicidal ideologies. Nat being honest and open about her feelings for once. hurt/comfort.

— ₊⊹ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. rainy days, match sad stories. venting.

divider credits: @saradika-graphics ༉‧₊˚.

the heaviness of the afternoon air settled over Natasha — weighting down what was already heavy. her mind, her body.. everything felt like a weight, a weight she carried since she was born, or even before her soul was incarnated in her body. she felt— no, she knew that she was born in bad news, cursed, and there was no way of getting out of this. it's funny, those were the exact same thoughts she had ever since she was a child— 10, 11, maybe? and in that age, crossed her mind that probably when she grew up, those ideas would vanish and she would be free to have a normal life.

but that certainly didn't happen. and now, she found herself trapped. trapped in web that the more she struggled, more stuck she got, and that was a routine that repeated over and over and over — optimistic, optimistic delusional thoughts that came to battle with the bad ones, telling her that things would someday be okay, and the real, coherent ones, that crushed all the hope, the little sparkle of hope she had within her, making her mind a complete and total mess. chaos behind chaos. sleepless nights, restless days.

god, how good would it be if at least, her body wasn't enchanted. how perfect would it be, to throw herself down a building and don't feel anymore, instead of having just a few scratches here and there. the blade helped, even with the acknowledge that a normal person would feel 10 times more than she did. because the pain was still little, when comparing to everything this woman already endured. the red lines on her arms and thighs were just a reminder of the red on her ledge, and that it was now impossible to wipe away.

in moments like those ones, her brain desperately searched for any solution, any thought to refute her current state — it was the human instinct to survive. (yeah, she's human). her eyes squeeze tight, feet stumbling forward and hands gripping tightly the trailer's window rail, knuckles turning white.

inhale, exhale. inhale— no, let's stick to panting.

her mind would drift back to the little girls who she shared her life with in the red room, remembering each of their personalities, what each one of them would do in a situation like this. ironically, for Natasha, they deserved to be listened and helped. but herself? nah. but in the deep end, she didn't know if they were still breathing, still in this world. what was the point..?

"come on..." she mutters, hissing loudly as her legs start trembling, knees ready to give up. "stop, stop, stop, stop..."

her heart never felt so filled with anguish and pain like right now — yes it did, but it was always like that: whenever that happened, the past experiences felt like they never existed — and the now felt like too much to handle. her ears buzzed, the sounds of the wind blowing across the tree leaves around her went down to volume zero — the hair on her legs and arms went up in a deep shiver, and eyes went wide — realization.

the same fucking realization as always. nobody listens, nobody cares. no one will ever know her true story. no one will ever fix her. she won't be remembered. her life's a waste— why was she even born, when everything that happened was disgrace after disgrace. that's when the thread snaps, and her body reacts before her mind can follow.

her throat closes, as if suffocating — body falling backwards, hitting the floor with full force. her fingers run through her hair and tug on the strands, pulling them strongly, even breaking a few of the auburn locks. tears of desperation threatens to fall down her cheeks, but she doesn't really realize that yet. she's just so out of air, that's impossible to control any other action.

"why won't that fucking—" Natasha manages between gasps. she groans, grabbing on the skin of her thighs and squeezing them harshly, creating moon-shaped little marks, enough to draw blood. "won't it— stop!"

then, she sobs. wait, but.. why did it felt like.. relief? perhaps because now, she was in your arms.

a foreign, strange sensation of warmth, warmth of another human being, enveloped her. she didn't recognize who it was, nor did she care. with pure instinct, her arms wrapped around the person's midsection, clinging for dear life. and now, with the sense of security, she was able to cry freely. she cried silently, something you didn't like. her chest heaved with emotion, but you wished she was louder. she was taught that widows didn't feel pain, wether it was physical or emotional. that's why her small cries sounded as painful and miserable as loud ones. you, sitting on the floor with her, scooped her weeping frame into your arms and held her — her side against your chest, head tucked in the crook of your neck.

sadly, it wasn't the first time, and you knew it wouldn't be the last. you were always in the trailer with her when she had breakdowns like this one. and that was what broke you the most — her brain subconsciously would tell her she was alone, and she didn't know how to deal with intense feelings like those: thus, she didn't know how to ask for help, how to come to you so you both could prevent those mental draining episodes.

when you first met Natasha, the first thing she asked you was to forget that she was a deadly spy, an avenger, or whatever the hell else people knew her as. at least for a day, so you could see where things would go. this fact only, meant that since the beginning, she had a feeling about you.. one she couldn't quite put a finger on, but which made her want to be herself, with no masks or titles around you.

it was common sense everything she went through. but only you knew about her true point of view. when her own self felt like an outside observer regarding to her own life, you were always there to remind her of who she was.

"you're safe... you're safe, i am safe.. we're both safe.." you whisper, running your hand up and down her shivery arm, putting the cold away. "okay, Nat? you are safe. i am right here, ready to fight whatever evil that befalls you.''

"i don't know.. i-i just.. i'm exhausted... i'm s-so tired.." she manages between small cries, eyes pleadingly looking up into yours. her hand reaches out and intertwine her fingers with your own, grasping on every sense she had of your presence — because she knew it could fade again, that she could fall in the loop again. and it was torturous. "i never.. no one ever listened to me... i never.. told anyone.. about.. a-about..."

"i know." you nod, arms tightening around her. you crawl a little backwards, just so you could reach the blanket that laid upon the couch and grab it. you wrap it around her with one hand, not letting go of her own. she subconsciously brings the fluffy fabric closer to herself and snuggles up against your body. "but you can tell me. isn't it clear, malyshka? that you're stuck with me?"

malyshka. the endearment term in russian she had taught you. she loved it, so goddamn much. a little weak smile tugs on her lips, the kindness you were showing her easing the tension — as if you were offering to carry the weight with her. compassion, empathy. so foreign.

"i just.." she shakes her head, sniffling and taking a deep, shaky breath. she stays silent for a few minutes, and you wait. voice so quiet, small.. and scared. "before you.. no one ever.. held me. i never had anyone holding me. i never had a touch that didn't mean harm. never had anyone to listen."

"i know, Nat. and that pains me more than you think." you confirm, running your fingers through her hair, and nuzzling the side of your face against her cheek, resting on your shoulder. "but trust me, i will listen for hours, days, years and centuries. if you wanna share every single second of your life with me, i'm here to listen."

"that doesn't make any freaking sense to me." she chuckles humorlessly, a soft groan escaping her throat. she was feeling a little tired. "but.. the truth is.. few people understand what i went through. the little people who lived in the same circumstances as me are probably all dead.. and... i truly don't want you to understand. i don't want you to try and live the same horrors as i did. all i wish for..."

you take a moment to stare at her when she pauses. hurt arms, tear filled face. oh, what you wouldn't do to protect this heart. to keep it safe. never let anything harm it again.

"all i wish for, is for you to be here. to hold me like you're doing, to share your own experiences with me, to live with me. to whisper sweet nothings in my ear by the night. handle my body gently. just be here. be here and i know i'll be forever safe."

that was it. everything you ever wished for. you exhale deeply and shift her carefully, so she was on your lap. she looks down at you, and at your hand.. that slowly comes up to land on her cheek. she leans against it and breathes heavily. you smile, waiting for her next expected words.

"can i..." she clears her throat, hands shyly gripping your shoulders, eyes looking at you from below her eyelashes. "can i cry more?"

"of course." you cradle her again and settle her thighs around your hips. her arms wrap around your neck, and she gently leans her head on your shoulder... allowing herself to cry.. out of relief.

your right hand tenderly caresses her leg, tracing over the self indulged scars she had. the left one, makes slow, soothing circles on her spine, moving up, and down her back. she was letting all her emotions out, all the pain inside her heavy heart, was flowing out of her being. thanks to your patience, your gentleness, and your love.

turns out, love wasn't only for children. goodness gracious, how good it was to be loved...

"god," she sobs, squeezing you tighter, nose brushing against your hair as she allows herself to.. let go. "god, i need you."

"i'm here." you confirm quietly, looking up and kissing her temple. "i'm here, i'm not going anywhere."

[f1goat]

more than friends ; lando norris + part five

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

a/n: this is a rewritten story, you can find the explanation on my profile

part one / part two / part three / part four

You can’t stop staring at Lando. Everyone else around you is doing the exact same, you’re sure of it. He’s absolutely glowing right now. After his deleted lap time from the qualifications yesterday, he came back stronger then ever. It’s only seconds before they’ll hand him his deserved trophy for the second place from this race. A smile is plastered on your face while staring at Lando. Podiums look good on him. Insanely good. 

Lando is literally glowing. Most people would blame it on the sweat, but you can’t even think about things like that right now. All logic has left your brain, you can only focus on Lando and how good he looks. 

“You did so good!” You almost scream when Lando comes to you after his podium. He’s still wearing that glow from his podium. You can smell the scent of expensive champagne. What if you would kiss Lando right now, would you taste the champagne? If there weren’t this many people around you, you’d have loved to find that out. While Lando doesn’t talk at first, you continue to praise him and his race. Lando gives you a hug, something you gladly return. 

“You know what this means, right babygirl?” Lando whispers in your ear while hugging you. You think back at the conversations between you two from earlier. Is he serious? This is what he’s thinking about right now? You wait for Lando to continue, he must mean something else. “I want you,” Lando speaks up again in a slow but firm way, “in my drivers room, so I can get my celebration right after debrief.” 

You feel your cheeks heating up, they are red now for sure. 

“Can you do that for me babygirl?” Lando continues to ask you. You can’t seem to get out any word right now, so you answer him with a nod. If you did know what to say, you’re sure the words would get lost on your tongue. Lando makes things even worse by pressing a small kiss against your forehead. You wish you could feel his lips on yours right now, but you’re fully aware of all the cameras around you. Tomorrow - or maybe even this afternoon already - you will see this fragment of your life all over social media.

You’re no stranger to social media, but whenever Lando and you make an appearance together somewhere you’re socials seem to fill up with hate. 

Lando walks away from you. It’s clear what you need to do right now. He was quite obvious about his wishes and who are you to deny those for him? Without thinking about it further, you walk back towards the McLaren motorhome. It’s not hard to get into Lando his drivers room, probably because everyone around you knows who you are - and that if they say no, they’ll have to deal with an angry Lando, but you don’t know about that. Instead of making some conversation with the cheerful people who are still around, you walk straight towards Lando his drivers room. 

When you enter his room, you start to feel a bit nervous. What does Lando expect from you? He made his wishes clear, yesterday and today. Apparently he wants to eat you out? The thought alone makes you feel even more nervous. Although you have no idea why. Lando is probably pretty good at it, so it will be more of a celebration for you then for him. Right? Maybe it’s the thought of Lando seeing everything of you that makes you nervous. He hasn’t seen your private parts before. What if they don’t look good enough? Normally Lando dates models, you bet they look a lot better then you. 

You try to shake off the negative thoughts and focus on your Instagram. The story you posted a it earlier about Lando on his podium, is getting a lot of reactions. You scroll through every one of them. When you see a notification from Lando popping up, you almost drop your phone on the floor. Is he serious?

Lando: 5 minutes babe x

Lando: maybe you can already lose some clothes :))

Only the thought about you waiting for Lando in his drivers room in only your lingerie - or maybe even naked, makes you feel too many things at once. Your stomach tightens when you think about it, you don’t know if it’s because of excitement or nerves. Without realizing it, you’re already kicking off your sneakers. Your next movements are going on automatic pilot. At this moment you don’t think about all the people who can simply just walk in and see you like this. It doesn’t even come up in your mind right now. You can only focus on doing what Lando asked you and pleasing him. In a short period of time, the floor is covered in the clothes you were wearing before. The only thing left on your body is your lingerie. It’s a simple black set, nothing too exciting but it does look nice. You think about buying an orange set someday. Are you going to keep it on or not? You doubt. Eventually you decide to fuck it and take it off as well.

You thank the warm weather of today and of this country. The thought of Lando who can be here any second, is enough to make you shiver. It feels strange to wait for Lando naked, certainly while being in his drivers room. Then you realize that Lando has never seen you like this before. The cons are starting to weight up. You start to doubt yourself more and more. What if he doesn’t like the way you look?

When the door opens you’re extremely aware of your surroundings and your own bareness. Why does it only occur to you now that literally everyone can walk in here? You let out a relieved sound when you see that it’s Lando who opened the door. Lando has never closed a door faster. When he sees the way you’re waiting for him, he hurries himself inside the room and closes the door quickly behind himself. After that he’s even more hurried to come close to you. 

Lando can’t tear his eyes away from you. He realizes that he’s staring, maybe he’s even making you uncomfortable with his staring, but he can’t stop. At this moment he doesn’t even think about looking away from you. He never saw you like this before. Everything that happened earlier between you two always happened with you in clothes. Of course, he had some information about your body from the summery looks and the bikinis. But still, this is mind-blowing to him. It’s even better then he imagined and he imagined it quite often… He lets his gaze go over every small detail of your body.

For now his focus is onto your breasts, he notices the way your nipples are sticking out. They resemble small pebbles in his mind. He wants nothing more then to shower them in kisses right now. He wants to feel them in his mouth until he feels them hardenen on his tongue, only to switch to the other one after that and experience it again. He lets his stare slide towards your most private parts. You’re sitting with your legs crossed over each other. He wants to see more of you. He wants to see everything from you. 

It can’t be right that you’re the girl who has made the most impact on him. He doesn’t even need to think about all the other girls to know for sure you’re the most beautiful one. Seeing you naked has caused him to be rock hard in only seconds. His dick is throbbing painfully. He tries to remember himself that this is all about you - and not about him, but it’s hard to stop thinking about his own pleasure while feeling as turned on as now. You’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, with and without clothes, and it’s doing way too much to him right now.

You start to feel a bit uncomfortable with Lando his current silence. Was it a mistake to undress this far already? Maybe you should ask him. When you start to think about what to question him, Lando lets out a soft sound. It almost sound likes a moan. You look at him. Lando is still taking in your body. It looks like he’s looking at you full with adoration and lust, or are you making that up? 

Lando walks closer to you. He takes his time to get close in front of you. When he’s finally standing in front of you, he is quick to lower himself so he’s on the same level as you. Then he eagerly puts his lips onto yours. He gives you a soft peck on your lips, before taking a seat next to you. Lando pulls you onto his lap. He makes sure you face him. At this moment he wants to see everything from your body the whole time. 

He presses a kiss against your neck. “Fucking hell babygirl,” he finally mutters. He presses another kiss against your body, this time it’s to your collarbone. “I didn’t expect you to be naked already,” Lando continues, “such a beautiful surprise.” He presses his lips against your body again and presses multiple kisses against it. Slowly he’s getting closer to your breasts. 

You’re already trembling under Lando his touch. He lets out a low groan. “Can I touch you babygirl?” He asks you. You’re quick to tell him yes. Lando takes one of your breasts into his hand, softly feeling around it. He looks at you to focus on your facial expressions, hopefully to find out what you like - and more importantly, what not. After softly feeling around your tit, he takes it in his hand and kneads it softly. 

“Such a good girl,” Lando tells you. 

Your stomach tightens. Your cheeks redden once again. Such small words, but their impact is massive.

“Such a beautiful, good girl,” Lando whispers softly. 

Lando his attention switches to your tits. Your glad about it, because it’s probably embarrassing how red your cheeks are right now. Lando lowers his face to get closer to your tits. He’s still kneading one of them. You almost jump up when you feel his lips against your other boob. He presses soft kisses against it before he starts to suck on the soft skin. You quietly follow his movements with your eyes, not looking away for the tiniest bit. It doesn’t take Lando long before pressing a kiss against your hardened nipple. After that he takes your nipple inside his mouth. You feel him sucking on it softly.

When Lando moves back, you let out a soft whimper. Lando changes his movements. He moves his hand away from your breast, slowly letting it slide lower on your body. In the mean time he lets his mouth hoover over your other boob. It doesn’t take long before he takes your nipple in his mouth. Softly sucking it in again. It surprises you when you feel your pussy clenching. It amazes you when you notice that you feel yourself getting more wet. Lando his mouth is doing all kind of things to you, you can’t complain about one tiny part of it. 

He removes his lips from your breast again. His hands are moving downwards. Quickly getting closer to your private parts. It annoys you that he doesn’t touch you where you need him. He keeps his hand barely above your pussy. You don’t even realize it when you let out a soft whine. 

Lando on the other hand is quick to notice the sound. “What’s wrong babygirl?” He asks you. You notice the small smirk that has appeared on his face. It makes you realize that he’s teasing you like this on purpose. Fucking tease. You want to tell him, but every word that leaves your mouth is begging Lando to do something about the way you’re feeling. 

“I need you,” you softly whimper.

Lando lets out a low groan. Animalistic even. The whiny undertone in your voice makes him lose his mind. He moves himself lower, making sure to take a good position in front of you. You’re still sitting on the couch, Lando is onto his knees in front of you. He takes your legs into his hands, spreading them slowly for himself. 

You look at Lando, but he doesn’t look back. All his attention is on your pussy right now. Before you can feel uncomfortable, awkward or nervous about it - Lando starts to shower you with compliments about it.

“Such a pretty pussy,” He tells you with a low voice. Carefully he slides his hand around it. He makes sure that he isn’t already touching your clit or entrance. Lando knows he’s teasing you, maybe too much even, but he can’t stop himself. He loves the soft combination from whimpers, whines and moans that are coming from your lips. It’s his celebration after all, right? When he takes a look at you, he’s quick to notice the frustrated look on your face. It makes him realize how much you need him right now. A feeling that makes him feel unbelievable good about himself. He wants you to never need anyone else like this. If it’s up to him, he’s the one who you need like this for the rest of your life.

He slides his fingers on your lips. Carefully spreading them a bit with his hands. Giving himself more to look at.

“So beautiful,” he continues to tell you. 

He lets his finger slides through your slit. It surprises him how wet you’re already are. His finger is quickly coated in your slick. 

“So wet already,” he murmurs to you.

He presses a soft kiss against the inside of your thigh. 

“Is that all for me babygirl?” He asks you. 

“Yes,” you’re quick to tell him. 

“Who’s the one who made you this wet?” Lando asks you. He knows the answer already, but he wants nothing more then to hear you say it. He needs to hear that he’s the one who caused this. 

“You Lan,” you softly confess, “it’s all because of you.”

Lando can’t withhold a soft moan after hearing your answer. He presses a few more kisses against your thighs. Slowly he moves closer to your pussy, but makes sure that he isn’t coming closer then your lips. You let out a frustrated whine.

“I need more,” you confess, “Please Lan.”

Lando presses a soft kiss against your clit this time.

“More,” you let out.

Lando grins. He softly slides his finger over your clit a couple times, but makes sure it’s still not enough for you. He presses more kisses against your inner thighs. A thought pops up in his head, what if he made you beg for it? Fuck that would be hot. His dick is getting even harder while thinking about it. 

“What do you want baby?” Lando asks you.

He makes sure his finger is dangerously close to your clit right now. Not onto it, but really close.

“You,” you whimper.

“No, no,” Lando tuts, “What do you want me to do?”

Lando his question makes you silent for a bit. He moves his finger even closer to your clit. Softly he touches it. It makes you tremble under his touch. According to you, it’s absolutely unfair what he’s doing to you. How can he makes you feel like this with barely touching you? For a few seconds you wonder if anyone else can ever makes you feel like this. You highly doubt it.

“If you don’t tell me baby, I can’t help you,” Lando teases you. 

“Fucking tease,” you groan.

“Tell me babygirl,” Lando continues to tease.

You let out a soft trail of whimpers. “Please Lan,” you softly say. He just shakes his head. “Can you please do something about it?” You continue. Lando shakes his head again. “Fuck Lando,” you groan, “just lick me please.” That seems to work. Lando doesn’t reply verbally, he moves his head as close as he can towards your pussy. 

He finally starts to do what you asked him. You remind yourself to tell him what you want sooner the next time - knowing Lando, he will be acting like this a whole lot more. Lando slowly licks around your vagina. He makes sure to lick every part of it before turning his attention to his clit. Still teasing you. When he finally reaches your clit, he presses a soft kiss against it. When you want to let out another beg - for Lando to finally do something, he already starts to place soft, small licks onto it. He’s making sure that he’s not going to fast, but also not to slow. He wants to do this right. He wants you to enjoy this just as much as he is doing right now. When you let out multiple moans, Lando increases his pace a bit.

In the mean time he slides his finger around your slit. He slowly brings his finger to your entrance, but doesn’t push it inside. Yet. Lando knows really well how much he’s teasing you, but he can’t help himself. He loves the way you response to him and the soft begs that are leaving your lips. All because of him. He has fallen in love with the desperate voice you use when you beg him for something. Lando wants to know for sure that he’s the one who makes you feel like this and that you need him. 

You buck your hips. Hopefully Lando gets the hint and finally puts his finger inside. Maybe even more then one now that you think about it. Lando doesn’t respond to your earlier movement. You open your eyes, which you had closes the whole time. To your surprise Lando is already looking at you. Staring even. Before you speak up, you admire the way he looks between your legs. You move your hands to his curls, softly tugging on them. 

Lando still makes soft licks onto your clitoris. It’s making you feel all kind of things. Sometimes he switches a bit and licks around your whole slit. But the things he’s doing to your clit right now, those are the best. Even though you still want more. Greedy, isn’t it?

“Lan,” you speak up with a soft voice. He raises his eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue. “I need more,” you tell him. Your cheeks redden from embarrassment when you tell him that. Lando removes his mouth from you and takes a good look at you. His fingers replace the movements his tongue made earlier. It still feels good, but not as good as his tongue.

“More?” He asks you. 

“Please,” you beg.

“Tell me what you want babygirl,” Lando states. He increases his pace with his finger. He likes looking at you while you look like this. You’re shaking underneath his touch. Moans are trembling over your lips like they’re your new language. Lando wishes he could save this memory so he could look back at it and enjoy every small detail again and again. His cock is throbbing even more painfully then before.

“How longer you take, how longer you will miss my tongue onto your pussy,” Lando tells you. He hears a soft whine leaving your lips. 

“I need your fingers,” you eventually confess.

Lando still doesn’t give you what you want. “Ask me,” he tells you sternly. 

“Can you finger me?” You ask Lando softly with red cheeks. Before he can react to you, you’re already add another few words. “Please Lan?”

His boner almost explodes when he hears to soft ‘please Lan’ coming from your lips. He doesn’t say anything anymore. He’s quick to move his lips back to your clit and to move his fingers to your entrance again. This time he licks your clit even faster. He hear hard moans coming from you. Is it bad that he’s already getting addicted to the sound of your moans? He wants to be the only one who ever hears these sounds coming from your lips. He never wants to share this sound with anyone else. 

Lando pushes one of his fingers softly inside you. He feels your walls clenching around his finger. Easily he pushes in and outside of you. It doesn’t take him long before adding another finger. He increases his pace and really starts to finger fuck you. In the mean time he focuses on eating you out. He softly sucks on your clit. It makes you almost scream from pleasure. 

“Fuck Lan,” you moan when he sucks even harder on your clit.

He doesn’t response verbally, but he keeps increasing his pace. He even adds a third finger. Your wells are starting to clench around his fingers more and more. Patiently he waits for you to come. He feels your clitoris starting to throb inside his mouth. You feel your stomach tighten. Moans keep coming out of your mouth. You can’t stop yourself. 

“I’m close,” you tell Lando. He reacts by sucking even harder. He moves his fingers even faster inside you. He gives all his attention to the soft, spongy spot inside you. You let out another hard moan. 

“Can I come?” You suddenly ask him.

Lando feels overwhelmed by your sudden question. Fuck. It’s insane how it feels that you’re asking him for permission to come. You’ll literally be the death of him. While Lando doesn’t know how to respond at first, you are having more trouble with holding back your orgasm. The waves of pleasure are already hitting over you in a fast pace. You’re really close.

“Lan?” You quickly ask, hoping that he will respond to your question.

He removes his lips from your clit for a couple seconds. Not any longer then necessary. “Please do babygirl,” he tells you before taking your clit back in his mouth again. Softly sucking it before licking it with a fast pace. He focuses his gaze on your face. He can’t look away from you. When your orgasm hits you, Lando notices everything about it. He sees the way you close your eyes when the first waves hit you. He notices the way your lips are partly open, only to let out a couple soft moans. When you press your legs a bit more together, Lando stops his movements and pulls back. He doesn’t want to overstimulate you. At least, not today. It would be a nice thing to do in the future. 

Lando waits for you to say something. In the mean time he sucks your wetness off his own fingers. He takes place next to you on the couch. You quickly let your body rest against him. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, “that was really good.”

Lando shows you a small grin. “Glad you liked it,” he says. His cock is still throbbing inside of his race suit. “You taste better then the champagne,” he tells you. You let out a laugh. Without thinking about it you press a kiss against Lando his lips, he’s quick to turn it into more. When his tongue slides into your mouth, you taste the faint tase of your own slit on his tongue combined with the bitter taste of champagne. 

Then you notice Lando’s bulge in his race suit. Did eating you out make him this hard? You let your hand rest on his boner. 

“Maybe I can do something for you as well,” you tell Lando with a soft voice.

“I wish,” he grunts almost annoyed, “but we have a dinner and a party to get ready for.”

“Maybe later tonight?” You suggest. 

“I like the way your thinking babygirl,” Lando softly laughs. 

“You still deserve a celebration as well,” you tell Lando. 

“Believe me babygirl, this was a whole celebration,” he confesses, “Next time I don’t even want to stop after your first orgasm.”

“You think I can cum more then once?” You ask confused.

“Add a lesson about overstimulation to your teaching plan babe,” Lando tells you jokingly, but none of his words are a joke. He wants to spend the whole evening between your legs and pull every orgasm out of you that you have. Leaving not even one of them for anyone else.

“Deal,” you react.

Lando can only smile after that. How did this even happen to him? It feels like he’s living his dream, but when he thinks about the fact that you’re still ‘just friends’ they shatter apart. 

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

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[xoxomads2]

Imagine:Lab Partner Viktor.

Lab partner Viktor: who is already not delighted about the project but he’s definitely not excited about being paired up and sitting next to somebody he doesn’t even know.

Lab partner Viktor: when you first meet him and exchange numbers for then project proceeds to leave your message asking when you should meet up on read for hours. Only to respond at 2:37 am with, tomorrow.

Lab partner Viktor: who ignores your entry to the study hall and your wave until you are standing right next to him, Hi Viktor I’m happy we were able to work tod-, I think I should do the research and you should do the slides.

Lab partner Viktor: who looks at you so plainly as if he didn’t just basically call you stupid. Where does he find the nerve? Sure he may be top of the class but that doesn’t mean you’re an idiot! You almost wanted to slap him then and there but you kept your cool, deciding it wasn’t even worth it. Sure viktor, that sounds delightful.God he looked so smug.

Lab partner Viktor: who meets up with you several more times, not understanding why you were so interested in every tiny detail about him, you might as well being asking for his diet as well. He shuts you down of course giving short blunt responses

Lab partner Viktor: who can’t understand why his mind is plagued with the thought of you, of your smell, your hair, the swell of your hips as you walked, the arch of your back as you leaned over the table, and the curve of your smile when he said something you thought was funny. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, and his body was filled with reactions to these thoughts.

Lab partner Viktor: who thinks if he just throws himself into the project and ignores your presence, that it will all go away, so he does. He works and works and yet all he can think about is you.

Lab partner Viktor: who decides it’s time to finally own up to it, so he decides to text you and see what you’re doing.

Viktor stared at the phone in his hand, he had proof read the message multiple times; no spelling errors or grammar mistakes, and yet he struggled to press send. His lips held firm in a straight line, he was an inventor who had overcome so much in his life, he could message one pretty girl, so he did. As his finger finally pressed the send button he reread the message, Would you be able to meet up tomorrow? He clicked his phone off and set it down on his nightstand as he played back in bed when his phone started to ring. He picked it up to see it was your contact, he definitely wasn’t expecting you to answer immediately, he picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear,

Hello?, he was meet with a weird clapping noise until he heard a man’s voice

Why are you texting her? Are you her boyfriend or something? The unknown voice said.

No, I’m sorry who is this?

The voice chuckled, I’m the man that’s balls deep in your girl friend right now.

Viktor jaw dropped, balls deep? Were you being? It all made sense, the clapping noise. God, you were being fucked right now.

He heard a shuffling sound as the man spoke up.

Tell him how much you love it. A woman’s voice, you spoke up. I-I love it. A pornographic moan followed after which viktor quickly hung up.

He placed his phone on his bedside table as he tried to relax, his raging boner noticeable under his sheets. God, why did that turn him on so much. You sounded so blissed out he could imagine that your face was probably in the pillows as you arched up. His hand traveled to his pants as he continued to think.

Your lips were probably parted and your face tear stained. Your hair snarled from being tugged on and your ass read from being slapped. He could imagine the way your mewls and moans would get louder as the thrust got deeper and quicker , his strokes getting faster, and faster. Your little pleas the way you would say his name when you cum. He groaned as he imagined the way your body would convulse as your released wrecked through you, his own releases coming causing him to spill onto his hand with your name on his lips.

As he looked down at his cum stained hands his resolve hardened even more, he needed to talk to you tomorrow.

[lovetei]

first off, thank you so much for all the work you do for the fandom! your writing is amazing!

someone has probably requested this already but i just wanna request for a soulmate-reincarnation au, if its okay? like, they were MC's lover in the past and MC died, so they've been waiting and looking for them to reincarnate since then (it's been thousands of years or so) and then RAD happened and then they realized that MC is who they've been waiting for. that's all, haha

you can pick if it has angst or fluff or smut, or which character/s it will have

thank you again for your contribution to the fandom, i hope you have a lovely day!

After all that deranged smut, I've come back from the dead with some fluff

Update: I'm on Lucifer's part and the Fluff I'm planning took a dark turn, fortunately

--------------------------------------------------

Soulmate-reincarnation universe in where they've lost you and won't let it happen again

Warnings: Grammatical errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, Mentions of death, Mentions of trauma, gruesome death, slight gore, Angst, possessive behavior

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

LUCIFER

He can still remember the day you escaped his grasps

The day you stepped in front of Father and begged him "No, not him please! Don't kick him our, I'm begging you!" You pleaded.

Yet, he can't do anything about it as he watch the angels pull you inside their father's room.

He waited outside, pacing around in circles hoping, praying to any being out there to keel you safe.

And when the guard let him in, it's almost as if he can breath freely

Not until he saw you, face planted on the white marble floor as you lay on top of your own pool of blood.

Wings ripped out and in his father's hands

His knees weakened as Father handed him your wings

"Remember them Lucifer, you destroyed them."

Is the last thing Father said before the floor beneath you cracked

"Lucifer..." You mumbled out with a smile as you each out for him with your bloody hands

That is before you fell and died

He can still remember every detail like he's watching a movie

He still can't forget you, he never will

That is until he was viewing the possible candidates for the exchange program and he came across your application

And all so suddenly, nothing is important anymore

That's what he was thinking as he burnt all the other application forms

He'll get you back

No matter what it takes.

MAMMON

The time where Father caught them rebelling against the heavens, he'll never forget it

Not because it was the day where he fell

But because it was the day he found out how cruel the kind can be

How the kind made him choose, "Save yourself or sacrifice for your love?" Father looked at him then looked at you

With a spear in his hand, he didn't expect what you did next.

Running to Father without a single drop of hesitation and plunging the spear to your heart

Plunging his spear to your heart

His eyes filled with hatred and regret, his body numb with pain can only drop to the ground

Before his screams echoed and shook the she realm

Screams of pain that will never subside, or so he thought

He found out about this exchange student plan

And he saw you, with a different face, with a different hair color

It doesn't matter

It's you

And maybe, he did pull some strings and a few tricks for you to be picked

But when he saw how your eyes softened when you look at him in a room full of other men

He didn't have any regrets

LEVIATHAN

You fought alongside them, beside him

Not because you support their ideology or anything

Just because he's there

He got hurt

And you swear you'll hunt down anyone who hurt him

And he'll do the same for you

So when he saw an arrow pierced your body and you fell

His wings lost its power and he fell with you

It was late when he realized what was happening and he flew as fast as he can to catch you

And he managed to before you landed straight to a flat rock near the shore

And so when he had you in his arms

He gently flew you down to the same rock and embraced your almost-lifeless body

Rocking you back and forth gently as if he was putting a child to sleep

And when you finally closed your eyes

He felt the last string of sanity snap and he looked up at the sky where the angels are fighting

And without a thought the warm and calm water was turned violent and drowned everything in its path

But sometimes, after the war, he would come back to the same shore

Where Mammon found him and informed him "They're back." He smirked at Leviathan

Of course, they are

He made sure to tell Lucifer he'll drown to death every other applicants they accepted until they admitted you.

And when he saw you standing there, frightened

He knew you can't remember him

But he's willing to take small steps with you until you remembered him again

SATAN

Like an idiot, he fell in love with you

After all the hard work his brothers put in his head, trying to tell him not to love a mortal

He didn't listen

He would sneak out of Devildom and would meet you in the forest where you built your own small home

Where he saw you age until you can't even get out of bed

The home in where he sat beside your bed as he read you your last book an dpromsied you that he'll be beside you for all eternity, waiting for you.

The home in where he buried you in the backyard and placed lovely flowers on top

He tried so hard to get over you

He tried so hard to ease the pain in his heart for thousands of years

Until one day, he can't hold it in anymore and came back to your home

The rain mixing with soil, staining his hands as he dugged your grave with his bare hands and was surprised when he didn't see your remains

And then when he came back to the house of lamentation

When Lucifer informed him about the program something came up in his head

With his hands still stained with soil and his clothes wet from the rain, he digged through the file of applicants and saw...

Saw no one that resembles you

Until Lucifer told him that they've already picked an applicant

And held out a paper with a picture that looks just like you

The smile that crept up his face was desperate yet filled with love

He snatched the paper away from his hands and went to his room

Dropping on his knees on the ground as soon as he entered the room

He hugged the piece of paper and said "It won't be long till you're back to me..."

ASMODEUS

People often thought of you as nothing, honestly

People thought that Asmo didn't even love you

Or that he managed to move on soon after you died

But that's not how he views it

He views your death as his death

He promised himself that you both will love each other like swans

And the moment you died, he was ready to die too

The way he remembers how your fresh blood dripped off his arms

The way he remembers himself pointing the dagger that killed you on his throat

The way he remembered you saying "Don't... I'll come back." as you gently held his face and placed your lips on his

That was the only reason he kept his life

And when he remembered this strange, suffocating hope when Lucifer mentioned the program

It took every strand of his patient to not dig through the files and look for you

Because he remembered how much you believed in destiny, he believed that's what made you beautiful

The way that you believe that if it's what the universe wants, it's what will happen

So he bit his cheek and clawed his palms

The moment he was walking in circles waiting for this student, his heart filled with hope that it was filling his lungs

The moment he saw you standing there, seemingly looking for something, someone

He instinctively said "I'm here... Love..." as he raised his hands, the blood from his fingers from biting his nails dripping down

And then he went numb

When he saw your eyes soften and be filled with love

Because he knew, even the universe wants you to be with him

In every life.

BEELZEBUB

You did your best, he knows it

Liliths death, he must admit, made him turn against Father and think about rebellion

But your death made him act on it

You begged Father to just give him and his brothers one more chance after disrespecting him

Father who said to accept it came up with one condition

And that's for your life

As soon as he over heard about ghat condition

He came out of his hiding and tried to attack father but you were held hostage

You were sitting on the marble floor with all the spears not pointed at the intruder, him, but to you, his most prized possession.

He can never forget how heavgy his heart is during that time

The way he can't even breath freely

"I was a fool..." Was what you said after you realized that even if you offered your life, Father will still kick them out.

And so you smiled at him "I will hold the virtues and give you some time to prepare..." then you opened your wings despite the spears piercing it.

"ESCAPE!" Was the last thing you said before you swung your wings and had the spears piercing their necks.

Then all he can remember is how him and his brothers managed to kill almost all the angels and archangels

But when they're about to enter the virtues domain, they stopped

And saw your head on the ground

The virtues praised you, saying how much love they felt as they fought with you

Now, it's still fresh on his mind

As soon as he saw you appear from the portal, unconscious

He was embracing your body as if wishing for you to remember him

BELPHEGOR

He was gone, he turned bat shit insane

People might think he's okay

But the brothers knew better

For the past thousand of years, there's not a single day where he didn't spoke your name

He's comparing you to every girl they tried to introduce to him, "MC was prettier", "MC was better" and more

It's time to establish his position even more, and he can do it the fast way by marrying a noble

But even after introducing all women, married or not, not him

His answer was only, "MC is the only one that can be my bride."

The council argued over this, MC is dead, they said

But Belphegor is not one to give up easily

During the meeting about this exact matter, he proposed a deal

"If you can fulfill my only condition, I promise to secure my position as the avatar of sloth and the guaranteed success of the exchange program."

Everyone's ears perked at his suggestion, naturally, they asked, what is this condition?

Then he simply held up a form containing your profile

"Bring my wife to Devildom."

[nobodyknowsimalesbian777]

Sunshine (pt 2!) - pitfighter!vi (Arcane)

NSFW tags - porn, fantasizing about sex, switch!reader, sub!vi, dom!surprise character, pussy-eatting & fingering (r!receiving), face-riding (vi!receiving), bit of angst, lowkey evil reader ngl, kinda rushed

authors note - okay, it's here guys!!! this could probably be a stand-alone, but i strongly recommend reading part one first. i hope you love it! i hope the grammatical and spelling errors are not that bad, i really wanted to get this out before act 3 😛😛😛 ----------------------------------------------------------

you felt your hands shake as you lifted your head, meeting vi's fucked-out gaze

the pit in your stomach grew as you realized she didn't just accidentally call you Cait,

she was imaging you were Caitlyn

vi tilted her head, bringing her hand up to your cheek

you pulled your head away, throwing yourself up and nearly stomping to the bathroom

a shattered woman stared back at you in the mirror, and you could hardly stand it

rushing, you picked up everything you'd need for the night and slammed the door on your way out

you heard vi follow you out the door, calling out and asking what was wrong

her voice was enough to break you, and you felt tears stream down your face as you continued to a hotel a few blocks away

you had never felt a pain this deep before, and you found yourself questioning how often she thought about cait while she was with you

the thought killed you

you always liked caitlyn, but you hated her now for taking away vi

your violet

the violet you picked up and put back together while she killed herself for a woman who left her, sobbing, on the ground

suddenly, an all-consuming idea to get back at vi filled your mind,

how much would it hurt her to see the two women she lost together?

that's when you decided you needed to find caitlyn kirraman

it wouldn't be difficult, she was well known as the piltover military leader

you had both grown up in the same circles, which is why you were so surprised to find out about her past with vi

not that it mattered now,

you couldn't think of anything other then showing vi exactly how you felt, ruining her with the same name she had used to ruin you

----------------------------------------------------------

you had spent the morning traveling back to piltover,

your parents welcomed you back with open arms, consoling you as you told them about what vi had done

the day was spent getting ready to find Caitlyn,

you had to make yourself look presentable after spending the night sobbing

caitlyns home wasn't far from yours, so you picked out a bottle of wine and made your way

----------------------------------------------------------

the kirraman house stood tall, beckoning you up the stairs,

every step you took was one step closer to your vengeance against vi,

and that's all it took to encourage three firm knocks against the wood of caitlyns door.

the door opened to reveal a red-headed officer, she eyed you up and down before her thick Scottish accent pierced your eardrums

"junior officer nolan, what's your business here?"

you sighed sweetly, putting on your best act

"im here to...see an old friend" you hated how insincere you sounded

officer nolan, however, didn't seem to notice

she stepped back, inviting you in and even leading you back to a big conference room

you hasn't seen caitlyn in years, her youthful features had sharpened, and she kept her blue hair tucked under her cap,

it was impossible not to feel a mix of inferiority and attraction as you gazed at her

the wine bottle clicked as you set it on the table, prompting caitlyn to swivel around and meet your intense gaze

"who are you?" her accent sent shivers straight down your spine, but you had to remind yourself why you were here,

more, what you were here for.

"it's nice to see you too, caitlyn" you chuckled, again feigning sweetness

her eyes softened as she seemed to recognize you, a relieved sigh leaving her parted lips,

"i apologize, i've been a bit...on edge, as of late." a soft chuckle escaped you,

because she couldn't possibly imagine how much worse it was going to get.

----------------------------------------------------------

weeks had passed with caitlyn, and you spent every available moment by her side

tending to housekeeping, amoung other, more personal matters

every moment you spent with her, you became more infatuated

you compared every part of her to yourself, questioning what made her linger in vi's mind while you had been together

it was very conflicting, as you were starting to realize exactly why she stuck

and every day that passed made you question if your affection towards her was an act.

these thoughts plagued your mind, when it wasn't filled with memories of vi

love was a confusing feeling for you,

and this triangle you had fabricated was not making a whole lot more sense

you spent nights laying in bed with caitlyn,

your hands drifting across the body that vi hadn't gotten the chance to know,

but somehow managed to love

much more then she had ever loved you, if she had at all

thoughts of leaving caitlyn had, of course, come up,

letting her feel the pain she had put vi, and (although indirectly) you through

but you knew that it would have been a waste of your time

you had spent time creating this scenario, and you were so close to the end

the last step was ensuring vi got a good look at you and cait, a real up close and personal look

luckily, cait frequently left you alone in her home when she was on missions

and her specific kirraman house parchment was not incredibly hard to find

so, as caitlyn slept, you drafted a note. one that would ensure vi was exactly where you wanted her

' vi, i need to speak to you. tommorow, midnight, sneak in the way i showed you...please. -cupcake'

you had it brought directly to vi's door, and moved into the next part of your plan, waiting.

----------------------------------------------------------

the day seemed to drag on, caitlyn had endless amounts of visitors requesting her audience

you expected she would need her favorite form of stress relief at the end of the day

and you had no. idea. how right you were.

right at 11:45, just as you expected, caitlyn came into your now shared room

she immediately shed her uniform, huffing as she made her way over to the bed, where you lay waiting

cait shoved you down by the shoulders, making your back hit the bed as she straddled your legs, her strong thighs enclosing you

your moans echoed on the walls as she kissed down your torso, stopping only to hastily untie the robe covering you

the clocks hands ticked away behind her, showing '11:50', '11:53' and finally, right as she was spreading your legs, '12:00'

you made sure you were facing the window, while cait laid out on her stomach

hungry hands reached up, grabbing at any piece of flesh they could reach

all the stress of her job was taken out on your abused cunt,

you had barely felt the warm satisfaction of her tounge on your clit before she was ramming two fingers inside of you at a brutal pace

you'd never admit it, but you absolutely loved when cait treated you like this

when she reminded you that she owned you, regardless of why you came to her

vi was rarely allowed to see you this way, you made sure that she was satisfied above all else, and she used that

she used you

you suppose caitlyn did too, in a way

and suddenly, a thought you'd never had before was all you could think of

caitlyn continued her brutal ministrations on your clit as you imagined vi above you,

her cunt smothering you, absorbing your moans as you teased her entrance

you imagined cait standing, leaving you needy and wet, and watching you, directing you

telling you how exactly to touch each other, exactly what she wanted to see

you were pulled out of your fantasy when you heard the window slide open quietly,

cait was far too enamored with you to hear vi's soft gasp as she laid eyes on the two of you together

you lifted your head, making direct eye contact as caitlyn messily licked up and down your cunt

vi watched in shock as you arched your back, gripping the bedsheets tight as you reached your peak all over caitlyns face

her soft moans were drowned out by your intense ones, you made sure to give vi a show as you came undone

cait lifted her head, moving up to kiss you before she realized you were looking directly behind her

glaring, more then looking actually

she whipped her head around, meeting vi's tear-brimmed eyes

they both looked between you and each other, you could see the millions of emotions passing through them as their eyes finally stayed on you,

you offered a simple shrug, pulling your robe back over as you sat up

your voice rung out in the painfully quiet room,

"doesn't feel so great, does it?"

----------------------------------------------------------

okay gang idk how i feel about this yet?? i will defo come back after act 3 drops and clean it up a bit, i just wanted to get something out. i hope you like it soso much, i love the idea and im hoping my execution isn't too bad! as always, please please pleaseeeee leave all the insane requests, i love them all and it's so nice to get inspiration and just to know what you all want to read!!

[lancestrollsgf]

# L’IMMACOLATA / CHRISTMAS DECORATING ! LUIGI MANGIONE X READER, WRITTEN

introduction master list request list series masterlist

# WARNINGS: english isn’t my first language (spelling/grammar errors), ooc! luigi (probably?), second person pov, lowercase intended. this is purely a work of fiction and that i do not encourage any criminal acts or acts of violence. (innocent until proven guilty)

# SUMMARY: the first part of decorating for the long-awaited holiday, is finding the green tree to have in the corner of your home. luigi and you have just gotten into a comfortable new york apartment, which now you have to decorate. both of you are now heading to find the perfect tree and decorations to add to your home.

# AUTHORS NOTE: first part of my new series. first time in a while writing an actual story and not an smau so please have mercy on me. this does not follow the current events, his backstory is not really mentioned throughout the story. luigi back issues do not exist in this story or series. definition: L’immacolata is the day that many italians put up Christmas trees and other holiday decorations. i tried to include some italian traditions i found online but had adding them into where i had already written was difficult. (word count: 2083)

the holiday spirit was already settling in, its warmth contrasting with the chilly new york december air. the long-awaited holiday had arrived, and with thanksgiving’s packed away and autumn’s remnants tucked into storage, it was time to transition into the most festive time of the year.

in your cozy new york apartment, you and luigi were ready to start decorating. following italian tradition on december eighth, the first step is to find the perfect christmas tree, to occupy that empty corner in your living room. it was the beginning of a tradition that you both hoped would carry on for years to come.

slipping on your shoes by the door, you glanced up as luigi adjusted his hair in the bathroom mirror. “are you almost ready, amore?” he called, his voice warm as it carried through the apartment.

you tugged your sneaker snugly onto your foot and answered, “yes! i just need to find and pack my bag.”

luigi chuckled softly. “is it not on the bookshelf near the door?”

that would’ve been convenient, but considering your clumsiness, it wasn’t there. frowning, you began scanning the kitchen, retracing your steps from earlier. perhaps you’d set it down while unpacking groceries. luigi soon joined the search, moving past the couch to help. just as you were about to give up and head back to the living room, luigi’s voice rang out victoriously. “i found it!” he held the black handbag up with a smile, crossing the room to hand it to you. “ah, thank you, lu,” you said, relieved. “i just need to check if I’m missing anything.”

while you rummaged through the bag, mentally running through your checklist, luigi sat by the door and laced up his boots. he glanced at you fondly, patiently waiting as you zipped the bag shut and slung it over your shoulder.

“ready?” he asked, standing up and opening the door for you. you nodded, stepping out onto the apartment’s stairwell, and luigi followed close behind. the cold december air greeted you like an icy embrace, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your sweater tighter. sensing your shiver, luigi slipped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side as you both walked onto the busy street below.

the city was alive with holiday cheer—twinkling lights strung between streetlamps, wreaths hung in shop windows, and the distant hum of carolers blending with the sound of traffic. your destination, a nearby tree farm, had been picked out this morning after scouring reviews and recommendations online. It wasn’t far, just a short walk, and as you approached, the scent of fresh pine reached your noses, filling the air with an unmistakable festive aroma.

“smells like christmas already,” luigi said with a grin, glancing at you as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. you laughed softly, looking around the rows of trees, each one towering and verdant in its unique way. “let’s find the perfect one, lu something that says us.” luigi’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and he nodded eagerly. “yes, amore. let’s make it special.”

the scent of pine grew stronger as you and luigi stepped into the tree farm. rows upon rows of evergreen trees stretched out before you, each dusted with a fine layer of frost that glistened in the dim december sunlight. the crisp air nipped at your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. luigi’s hand found yours, his fingers gently squeezing as he smiled down at you.

“so, amore,” he began, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air, “do we want something big and grand, or small and cozy?”

you chuckled, glancing at the towering trees to your left and the smaller, more modest ones to your right. “hmm… i think something in the middle. big enough to feel festive but not so big that it takes up half the apartment.”

luigi laughed, his warm voice echoing softly in the open space. “good idea. we don’t want to be tripping over branches every time we go to the kitchen.”

the two of you walked through the rows, pausing once in a while to inspect a tree here or there. luigi would point out one with perfectly shaped branches, while you admired another for its rich, deep green color. neither of you could agree right away, but that was part of the fun.

“how about this one?” luigi asked, standing next to a tree that was taller than he was. he reached up and touched one of the branches, which sprang back gently under his gloved fingers. “it’s sturdy, and the branches are full.”

you tilted your head, considering it. “it’s nice, but…” you trailed off, stepping closer to examine the tree. “it might be a bit too tall. remember, we still have to fit the star on top.”

“ah, true,” luigi nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, let’s keep looking.” as the two of you continued searching, you couldn’t help but admire how seriously luigi was taking this. his red christmas hat was slightly askew from all his craning to look at the tops of trees, and his nose was pink from the cold, but his enthusiasm never wavered. he kept turning to you, his excitement infectious as he offered suggestions and shared little jokes to keep you warm.

eventually, you both came across a tree that seemed just right. it was neither too tall nor too small, its branches were lush and even, and it gave off the strongest pine scent of any tree you’d seen so far. you stepped closer, brushing your hand over the needles, which were soft to the touch.

“what do you think, lu?” you asked, turning to him. he knelt slightly to examine the base of the tree, checking the trunk and giving it a gentle shake to see how stable it was. standing back up, he grinned and nodded. “i think we’ve found the one, amore. it’s perfect.”

relief and excitement washed over you. “really? you like it?”

“of course! it’s exactly what we were looking for.” he reached out to take your hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “and if it makes you happy, then i love it even more.” your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “okay then, let’s get it!”

a friendly worker helped wrap the tree for you, and soon enough, you and luigi were carrying it back toward your apartment. the journey wasn’t without its challenges—maneuvering the tree through crowded sidewalks and up the narrow stairwell to your floor had both of you laughing and out of breath by the time you reached the door.

but as you set the tree down in the corner of the living room and stepped back to admire it, you knew it was worth every bit of effort.

luigi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “there we go, amore. step one of decorating done.” you leaned into him, smiling as the scent of fresh pine filled the apartment. “it’s already starting to feel like christmas.”

you and luigi stood in the living room, admiring the tree now firmly in place. the scent of pine filled the apartment, the tree’s presence filling the space with warmth despite the cold december chill still lingering outside.

“well, amore,” luigi began, grinning as he stepped back to survey the tree, “step one is done. now, we make it shine.”

you nodded, your excitement growing. “yes! let’s go get some decorations.”

after a quick glance around the apartment to make sure everything was in order, the two of you bundled up again and made your way out into the crisp air, walking to the nearest shop that was known for having a lovely selection of holiday decorations.

the store was small but filled with the kind of charm that made it feel like it belonged in a cozy winter wonderland. sparkling garlands and glittering ornaments lined the shelves, while warm lights twinkled from every corner. you both instantly felt the festive magic in the air as you wandered inside.

“okay, what do we need first?” luigi asked, rubbing his hands together to keep warm as he looked around at the colorful decorations. his red hat seemed to glow in the warmth of the shop’s lights, and his excitement was contagious.

you thought for a moment, eyes scanning the shelves. “we need a star for the top, and definitely some lights. the tree needs to sparkle.”

luigi grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “oh, definitely some lights. and I think we could use some ornaments that represent... us.”

you smiled, already imagining how to make the tree feel personal, something that would reflect both of your tastes and personalities. you were already picturing small touches—maybe a little Italian flag ornament, or something playful to remind you of your time together.

the two of you moved down the aisles, carefully picking out a few strands of twinkling lights—warm white to match the cozy atmosphere—and then you began your hunt for ornaments.

“how about these?” luigi asked, holding up a set of small gold bells. “they remind me of home.”

you nodded, picking them up from his hands. “they’re perfect. let’s get them.”

as you walked through the aisles, you both added ornaments to the basket—a tiny wooden reindeer, a few delicate snowflakes, and some simple glass baubles in shades of red, green, and gold. each item felt like it would add another layer of warmth and personality to your tree.

finally, you reached the section for tree toppers, and your eyes immediately landed on a beautiful silver star that glittered in the light.

“this is it, lu,” you said, reaching for the star. “this is exactly what we need.”

“perfect,” luigi agreed, nodding with a smile. “it’s going to look amazing.”

after picking up a few more decorative touches, including a set of gold ribbons to add to the tree and a couple of festive-scented candles, you and luigi made your way to the checkout. you couldn’t help but smile as he carefully packed the decorations into the bag, his usual careful attention to detail making the whole experience even more special.

once back at the apartment, the two of you worked together to decorate the tree, the entire process feeling like a warm, joyful collaboration.

first, you wrapped the tree with lights, careful not to leave any gaps or let them tangle. luigi passed you ornaments as you decorated, his gloved hands gently handing you each one as if it was a treasure. “this one goes here,” he said, carefully placing a small red ornament on a branch near the top. “what do you think, amore?”

“i love it,” you said, stepping back to admire the progress. “everything looks so perfect.”

next, you added the ribbons, winding them gently around the branches. with each layer of decoration, the tree began to take on a life of its own, growing more beautiful with every passing moment.

finally, it was time for the star. you stood on a chair to reach the top, carefully placing it atop the tree. luigi’s face lit up as you stepped back, both of you admiring the finished product.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe. “just like we imagined.”

“i couldn’t agree more,” luigi said, his arm wrapping around you. “it’s beautiful.”

you stood there for a few moments, just taking in the sight of your tree glowing softly in the corner of the room. the lights sparkled, the ornaments glimmered, and the tree felt like a little piece of holiday magic that you had created together.

“so,” luigi said after a long pause, “what’s next? do we start baking cookies, or maybe light some candles?”

“cookies,” you replied immediately, grinning. “cookies are essential. but maybe first, let’s make some hot chocolate to keep us warm.”

“hot chocolate it is,” he agreed, laughing as he headed to the kitchen to get started. “this holiday is going to be amazing.”

you watched him walk away, heart full of love as you took in the glow of the tree. it wasn’t just the lights that made the apartment feel special—it was the way you and luigi worked together, making this place feel like home, like it was already filled with all the joy and warmth of the holiday season.

this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the season had in store.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

part two of the series coming out soon. happy holidays :) comment on the series master list to be tagged! (commenting here is okay as well)

[who-can-touch-my-boob]

<- Sanemi simp posts masterlist

Sanemi Shinazugawa NSFW alphabet:

I made a poll a while back about making this, where it would either be silly and cute or just so nasty and kinky that some might need therapy after reading it. Of course the latter won (you nasty people) so here it is! Sadly I’m unable to write Sanemi as kinky and dirty, so here is a very vanilla and wholesome alphabet.

This is written to be as gender neutral as possible, to make sure the Sanemi simps who aren't ladies can enjoy too!

Warning: tbh this is a damn nsfw alphabet post so that should say enough. Only warning I have is spelling errors or clumsy sentences (and that I’ll probably edit and proofread after publishing). However I can reassure you there’s no gore, extreme fetishism or anything like that. It's a very normal sexual analysis of a very wholesome man.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

More like full pampering session, because that man would do everything in his power to make sure you have not only the best sex, but also best post-sex. Massage? Yes. Cuddles? Gods yes.

Honestly he loves nothing more than to be pampered with too.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Himself: He's very proud of his chest and abs obviously, but what few people know is that he takes pride in his lower body - more specifically his ass and thighs. No one truly get to see how much work he puts into training and building the lower half of his body because of his pants. Which is also why he feels some sort of wicked satisfaction that most are unaware of his physique.

So when you see him without his pants for the first time, clearly ogling him and he catch you admiring him he's filled with pride. But not only is he proud of his muscular legs, but Sanemi has spent years building and sculpting his ass. He could easily hipthrust Tengen and all his wives (not that he'll ever try that).

In the bedroom, when he's ramming inside you hard, he'll urge you to grab his cheeks and you'll feel the muscles tense and flex with every thrust. He’ll groan in your ear in satisfaction, his ego boosting as you worship his assets. He's also a little ticklish, so whenever you cuddle and you trace a fingertip over his buttocks he would giggle. However when you suggest to switch things up, that he'll be on his hands and knees and his rear presented to you - Sanemi strangely enough didn't say no. In some twisted way he finds the thought of you taking him from behind while your hands knead and caress his ass cheeks arousing.

Yours: Sanemi would tell you he loves all of you or give a standard "Nice tits and ass" kind of response, but secretly it's your stomach. Whether it's because the stomach represents fertility, where life is grown inside or because he just loves how you react whenever he touches it.

He's not particular about any certain body type, he just love how every person is unique, their stomach's somehow representing their identity. If you have a well-toned belly, he'd enjoy the way your muscles flex as he trace his tongue over your abs. Or if you're one with a little cushioning he'd use you as his personal pillow, nuzzling his face into your soft skin.

During cuddling time especially, his hand would sneak up inside your clothes, tracing over the contours of your bare skin with featherlight touches - enjoying how you squirm a little whenever he brush against a ticklish spot. He knows your protest about it tickling doesn't mean you truly want him to stop, but that you secretly enjoy it. And boy when he decides to place you down on your back, pushing up your shirt and place kisses all over you midriff and the way you arch your back against his touch, the way you gaze down at him with hooded eyes, begging him to move lower. Which is also one of the reasons he's so obsessed with you belly, because being so close to your most intimate parts while so far away - how your arousal from such innocent touches is unmistakable.

He would pretend he has no idea what you're talking about, him teasing? Whatever do you mean? His big strong hands would grip your waist firmly, keeping you steady as you writhe and pant beneath him, cheeks flushed and voice merely a soft whimper as you feel his warm, wet tongue make contact with your skin. He would lick his way down your stomach, leaving sloppy wet kisses and suck on your delicate skin. Just when you're about to burst and plead, he closes in on where you need him. However Sanemi that sneaky little thing decides to pause before going too far. He'd glance up briefly, michief glinting in his eyes before he'd dip his tongue inside you navel. The sounds you make, the way your back arches despite your protests makes him painfully hard. He continues tongue-fucking your belly button, giving you a preview of what's to come once he moves further south.

His hands would stroke up and down your sides before stop at the waistband of your underwear and with a cheeky grin he kiss his way down and murmur smoothly: "Hold on tight, I'm going in." Before pulling down your underwear and immediately taste your needy arousal that's been dripping from his pre-foreplay-foreplay.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Because he favours your tummy, Sanemi would preferably finish on it. His load covering your midriff is a sight he'll never get tired of. However eventually as the two of you become more steady and established, he without hesitation cums inside you, because it feels more intimate (and less of a mess).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

His dirty secret? Sometimes while you're still asleep in the mornings he'd lift up the covers to sneak a peek, taking a good, long look at your naked body and nod approvingly.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not experienced at first, mostly because he never thought he'd be intimate with someone or that he’d felt the need to. Sanemi honestly thought he'd meet an early death, so when his cock twitches at the sight of you he knew that he needed to satisfy that need and only with you.

And he doesn't do anything halfway. Nah, he needs to do it perfectly. Which is clear because the first time you're having sex he's so focused on following the instructions he's given by Tengen (yeah, him) to actually be in the moment. That's when you take control, switching the positions and straddle him. Sanemi is a blushing mess from both being caught by surprise, but also how easily you'd overpowered him.

"What the fuck are you doing? I was-"

You quickly silence him, leaning down to cut him off with a soft kiss on the lips. Then you'd continue your merry way downwards, worshipping his body, with the goal to make him relax and understand that sex isn't something you can learn from books, but something that needs to be experienced.

Boy, once Sanemi got the message, relaxes and follow your lead - your position is soon switched again. From then on, Sanemi never went to Tengen, not because the man doesn't know what he's doing, but he'd rather learn and experiment with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sanemi is a man who loves variety, keeping things interesting - but he can't deny that a position where he gets full view of your body, admiring how you stretch and fold as he toss you around is his favourite. Which means he's a sucker for any face 2 face positions like missionary (especially considering the favourite body part).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sanemi is of course very serious...or not. It all depends on his mood, but when he's truly making love he'll make sure you understand just how much he loves you. He'll say all the right things, kiss and touch you in all the right places. He's so gentle with you, treating you as the most valuable treasure in the whole world.

But then there's those times when he's so unserious, using your naked body as a playground. He'd be the polar-opposite of what people see him as - Sanemi would be the silliest little goofball. "Oh no! Looks like Mister Finger is lost and needs to find his way to the treasure trove." He'd speak with a stupid voice and despite your best efforts to appear exasperated, he always manage to elicit a smile from your lips.

He'll change his way of making love based on your mood and needs, sometimes it's serious, but other times he'll make it his life's mission to make sure you're happy and smiling. Even if it means him making a fool of himself. He don't mind, as long as the love of his life is happy.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sanemi never saw the issue with his hair downstairs, mostly because he has naturally little hair to begin with and it's white. So that bastard doesn't need to do anything, but he was curious once when you suggested trying to do a brazilian wax on him just for fun, which he agreed to, blissfully unaware of what that actually was.

Long story short: Sanemi guards his white and barely noticeable pubic hair and happy trail with his life. He does however have that same thin hair covering his chest, arms and legs and you just can't resist stroking your hands over it whenever possible.

It’s more noticeable when he’s standing shirtless beneath the sun, causing his beautiful, scarred and bare skin to glow along with his body hair enhanced and more prominent.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

If he's intimate with you it's because you're special and he only has intimacy with someone he has romantic feelings about. No way in hell would he even think about having sex with some random person or a casual hook-up.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sanemi has what one would call a healthy masturbation habit. He'd do it a 2-5 times a week depending on his schedule. When Sanemi discovered masturbation, he also found himself more relaxed and calm. So once a hectic day is over and he returns home, he'll make some ohagi and matcha tea, sit on his porch and enjoy them before heading inside to unload.

He’ll use masturbation as a source of pleasure, but also as a way to unwind, get out any pent out frustration or stress that’s been building up. Sometimes he also masturbate to help himself fall asleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

His kink is simply emotional intimacy and mutual trust in a relationship.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

When you ask him, he'll be really soft and cliché and say it's the bedroom, but to be honest? Sanemi really enjoys a good fucking in the shower. There's something about being naked, wet and beneath the spray of waters. How easily he could turn a simple "Let me help you with that." As he grabs the soap and starts soaping up your body under false pretences that it's a massage. But you both know that this cheeky man har other plans, because once his hands finish rubbing your belly there's no stopping him when he moves down.

Oh! And he just loves how good it feels to kiss when the steamy waters cascade over you, how extra soft you lips and skin are, how your damp hair clings to your face... Yeah, Sanemi loves a good shower fucking.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Not much, really. What motivates him and turns him on is simply just thinking about or seeing you. You don't even have to be naked, because Sanemi is simply so in love with you that every little thing gets him going.

But if we're going to be more specific, Sanemi loves watching you do mundane household chores, cooking or anything really. He can't help wrap his arms around your waist from behind while you're stirring a pot of stew, grinding his erection against your rear while whispering:

"You're so damn sexy when you're cooking dinner."

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He'd never in a million years have a threesome, swingers, orgies or anything involving other people than him and you. There's no way Sanemi would share you and he's definitely not interested in having any form of intimacy with anyone but you. He also wouldn’t engage in anything that involves pain, degrading, spitting or other kinks.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Both.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Just like any other sexual active human being, Sanemi too has days he just needs to take you hard, and I mean hard (gently hard of course). And you would usually beg for it too, whimper and moan for him to fuck you senseless - for both him and you to just get out whatever pent out frustrations you have.

But then there's those other moments, the moments both of you prefer. It’s when you're taking your time, lying in bed and sleeping in, naked bodies on full display, touching each other aimlessly but with purpose. You take your time exploring, tasting and worshipping each other. The kissing is so soft and tender, the way your tongues would slowdance, hands cradling each other's faces, limbs tangling up and bodies pressed close.

He would never end the kiss, only stop to gently suck on your bottom lip, nibbling at it and then kiss you again at that slow, erotic and delightful pace. His hand would stroke over your bare skin as if you're made of porcelain and he'd tease you a little, prolonging the inevitable.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He's not a fan of quickies because he knows for a fact that you won't be truly satisfied and he don't want to risk you not being fully prepped and risk hurting you. So instead he prefer to just tease, spend the day building up the sexual tension (mental foreplay) until you're close to cumming just from holding hands. So if Sanemi does decide to do a quickie, he's made sure you're properly primed up and ready for him.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He wouldn't take any risks where you'll potentially get hurt. Not even leaving bruises or marks on your skin, because he couldn't live with himself knowing he'd hurt you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man, this motherfucking man! If you thought Sanemi's stamina was exclusive to battles and trainings… you're so wrong. If Sanemi wanted, he could fuck you so damn long, he'd almost torture himself with aching balls begging for release if it meant keeping you satisfied. Because Sanemi would always put himself second, in life and in bed.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

(Modern AU since i dont know what sex toys exist in taisho era).

Sanemi is not one for toys. His ego is too big and he's the typical man who'd say "you don't need those since you have me!" Of course that's what he says until you come home with a bag filled with goodies and present them to him, showing him that sex toys aren't exclusively for one person to use alone or in privacy. And damn, did that just open his eyes!

He especially loves it when he's lying on his back, his massive cock so hard and leaking - waiting for you to use his favourite toy on him. The small vibrator which packs a punch as you gently tease his tip and that sensitive spot where his pink head meets the foreskin. You'd squeeze and stroke the base of his shaft while simultaneously use the vibrator on his tip. He’ll arch his back, grunt and pant as he's desperately holding back, but he's never successful. He'd spill his own load all over himself and the sheets and you'd just watch the big, strong and rough man reduced to a bundle of nerves with satisfaction.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he's in that mood, he'll be relentless. Since Sanemi is easily annoyed and has a short temper, but can't bring himself to take it out on you like he does with others, he chose to retaliate in other ways. More specifically, getting you turned on and then leave you high and dry.

He'll do it when you expect it the least, on the streets, while doing household chores, training... you name it. He'd take advantages of his strength and knowledge how you can't resist him. Pushing you up against a wall, throwing you over his shoulder while rubbing your clothed sex with his hand as he carries you somewhere. Just like his favourite body part section, he likes to prolong the foreplay too, avoid touching the most sensitive areas - not until you're straight out crying for him to do so.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

In the beginning he's not as vocal as one would assume, since he rarely speak using his inside-voice on a daily basis. So when you're being intimate for the first time and he doesn't make any noises - or rather he seems to hold them back you think at first that he's not that into you. But after talking about it, you realise he's afraid to appear vulnerable, which is understandable giving his upbringing and reputation.

However you had made it your life-mission to make him scream with pleasure, to allow him to truly voice his pleasures openly to you. Making sure to create a safe environment for him to be himself and open with you. You'd go all out, bringing his favourite toys, touching his favourite places and bring him to a point of ecstasy where he can't help but moan loudly.

The sounds he makes when he finally feels safe are almost too much for you to bear. His moans are deep, rumbling almost and sounds like hums. As he brushes his lips against your ear or kiss up and down your neck - he'd sigh softly with pleasure, which could make you cum right then and there. You’ve always loved his voice, how deep and rough it is, yet tender and almost maternal when he speaks to you with such love and affection. (Yes, maternal - I swear Sanemi, despite being a man has the biggest mother-instincts ever).

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He can sing!

I headcanon that Sanemi is an incredible singer (based on his japanse voice actor Tomokazu Seki who is one of the most talented singers i've ever heard).

Why do I think so? Well, Sanemi is the oldest of seven siblings, he was very close to his mother and already at the age of six he’d started taking responsibilities with helping her out with his younger siblings. He'd learn songs from his mother and she loved his voice so much that she always encouraged him to use his talent. He'd stand on a street corner, a small bucket before him in hopes for some coins. He’d sing his heart out - desperate to earn money for his family. And whenever someone stopped to listen to his performance he'd be filled with pride and sing with more confident.

Whenever his father went on a rampage, beating up his mother and then him (luckily sparing the younger siblings), he'd comfort his mother by singing to her. While he cleanse her cuts and bruises, Sanemi would hug her, rock her back and forth, stroke her hair while humming softly. Even if he grew taller and bigger than her at an early age, he still wasn't a match against his father, no matter how hard he tried to intercept. So all he could do was sing and comfort her as best as possible. He would sing to his siblings, both happy songs during the day and sweet lullabies before bedtime.

He also sang the day he buried them, his voice choked up with suppressed tears that still spilled from his eyes. He sat by himself in a small clearing in the forest, burying them one by one while singing their favourite songs. After that day Sanemi never sang again…

Not until he met you, the person who suddenly made him want to burst into song again.

He'd worked up the courage for so long to do it too, I swear he'd told himself every morning that "today I'll sing." but then backed out, his nerves taking over. However when you two welcomed your first child together, none of his fears about what you would think mattered anymore. He’d take the small bundle of joy in his arms and sing, the same song he remember his mother sang to him when he was a child, hoping that he'd continue the tradition. You had only stared at him in awe and surprise, too scared to speak or more - afraid if you did he'd stop and you wouldn't get to hear more of his angelic and soothing voice.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

You either assume Sanemi is one of those who's really well equipped in both length and girth or he's packing a small to average size, thankfully it's the former. Sanemi himself is not aware he's above average, mostly because when on earth would he be comparing dick sizes (erected) with other men?

But yes, his manhood is quite impressive... when erected. Because he's a grower not a show-er. Just like his massive thighs, legs and backside muscles, no one can truly tell what he's got going on under those clothes. So when you saw him fully hard for the first time you'd wondered if you would ever manage to fit him. Sanemi would be confused, wondering what on earth you're so afraid. So when you explain to him the reason and how he's clearly above average he's looking at you, stunned and at a loss for words.

His cheeks would flare up, his mouth would open and then close as he's trying to speak. Instead he looks away shyly, muttering what might sounds like a "Don't worry, I won't hurt you... and, uhm... thanks?" There's a flicker of pride in his flustered state and with his bashful reassurance that he'll be careful you also relax.

The rest of his body, I've already mentioned his strong lower body, thunder thighs and nice, bouncy and muscular butt. Sanemi is a very muscular man, his strength almost inhuman, but he takes pride in how proportional he is. He doesn't train aimlessly, he has a workout routine, specific areas to focus on to improve his fighting style. His pectorals are so big and very squish able, they’re surprisingly soft despite the hard muscles. His arms? Phew, I mean…he can easily lift you up while you’re hanging from his bicep.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

In all honestly, Sanemi doesn't have a higher or lower sex drive than the average. He can easily go weeks without intimacy, but don't worry - that's usually only when he's forced to. So the moments he returns from his mission, you better oil up and get ready because that man is home to collect.

So in the following days or weeks after being away from you his sex drive is higher, mostly because he's making up for lost time. But later in life after he's retired as a demon slayer he doesn't need to pound you every day. Sometimes simply being with you and your company is enough, because not only are you his lover, partner and the only one he'd ever be intimate with - you're also his friend and family.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

He'd remain awake long after, even if he's tired. It's an instinct that he can't get rid off. He'll feel more relaxed and content, though - but he'd never allow himself to truly fall into a deep sleep. It’s during the night that the demons roam more freely and even with the wisteria incense warding them off - Sanemi won't take any risks. Instead he'll sneak in naps during the day when the sunlight is there to keep you safe.

However if you're doing it during daylight hours, he's immediately out cold once he cums. Like he would literally just plump down on you, the two of you still intimately connected and snore.

You’ll push him off you, sighing as you gently tuck him beneath the covers and snuggle up him. Somehow his snores only help lulling you to sleep rather than annoy you (or maybe you’re simply too in love to be bothered).