#so i decided to write down some of my thoughts

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

i’ll help you through it, yeah?

pairing: chan x virgin reader

genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers

word count: ~2.6k

warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.

authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol

masterlist

"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."

your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.

"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."

"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"

he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.

"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.

"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."

you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.

he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.

"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.

you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.

"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."

you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.

"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."

"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"

you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.

he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.

this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.

"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.

he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.

"can we take this off?"

your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"

you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.

"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.

he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.

"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."

he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."

your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.

"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.

he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."

his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."

what did he mean by that? you wondered.

"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.

"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.

he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.

"does that feel good?" he asked.

"yes.." you breathed. "so good."

his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.

"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.

"go ahead, baby. let go."

and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.

he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.

"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.

"yes please." you said, breathless.

"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"

"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."

he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"

you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."

he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"

"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."

he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"

you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.

you froze.

"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."

you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."

his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"

you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.

he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."

you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"

"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."

"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,

[requiemforthepoets]

Would you be interested in writing something for Oscar? I feel like he would be the perfect guy to have your firsts with, so understanding and cute like imagine having your first kiss with him. He would be so understanding and would kiss you with so much care and ugh I need me a man like him☹️ would you be down to write something like that?

in a world full of wrong, you’re the only thing that’s right 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: the idea of falling in love scares you, but at the same time, you long for it. wanting to experience how it feels like having someone by your side.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: thank you for your request! i’m sorry that this one took days, i had already finished the original version of this one, but i was not happy with it so i scraped it off and decided to write a new one. i had also took some creative liberty if it’s alright with you. i hope that this one is up to your expectations. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, no use of y/n, traditional upbringing, reader is an only daughter, overthinking, anxiety, fear of falling in love, and some fluff

You had never been in a relationship before Oscar. In fact, you had no idea what being in love was even supposed to feel like at all. So when your friends came to you, venting about their partners or asking for some advice, you would just sit there, nodding along, and pretending to understand everything that they were saying. But the truth was that you were clueless. You had never experienced the ups and down that they spoke of. No fights over silly things, no making up with heartfelt apologies, no lingering fear of being left behind. Part of you had always wondered what it would feel like to have someone special, someone to lean on, but another part of you was terrified–utterly terrified of the vulnerability, terrified of the idea that maybe one day, that person you end up with could hurt you.

You had been raised in a traditional household, the kind where dating wasn’t just for fun, but that is meant to last with the intention of marriage. Your parents always told you to be very careful, that relationships were serious and sacred. It doesn’t help that you are an only child as well, so your parents can be really overprotective of you. So, when you found yourself daydreaming about having a boyfriend, the thought would always come with a sense of guilt. You’d see your friends with their partners and wish, even just for a second, that you could have that too. But then again, these fears would creep in–what if he cheated? What if he wasn’t who you thought he was? What if you weren’t enough? The doubts swirled around in your head constantly. But then, everything changed when you met Oscar.

You met him in a way that you never expected you would. It was during a vacation in Monaco with some friends. The week had been loud and chaotic–late night dinners, laughter, and a bit of madness here and there. Needing some peace and quiet, you decided to stroll around by yourself. The streets of Monaco were breathtaking, and you let yourself get lost in the gorgeous scenery, with your thoughts floating somewhere far away. So far that you didn’t even notice the guy speeding towards you on his bike. Before you knew it, he swerved, narrowly avoiding a collision, but you lost your balance and tumbled to the ground.

“Shit! Are you okay?” The voice was concerned but soft, and when you looked up, you saw a pair of worried eyes staring down at you. He had already jumped off his bike and was holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Oscar said, pulling you to your feet gently. His touch was warm and cautious, as if he was afraid you’d break.

“No, no, I should have been paying attention,” you quickly brushed it off, though your heart was racing for more reasons than just the fall. Up close, he was…well, you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or something else, but he was strikingly handsome. You didn’t know if it was love at first sight or from the shock of falling, but something inside you shifted in that moment.

“You sure you’re okay? I feel terrible about this.” He frowned slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. “Let me take you to a hospital, just in case.”

You laughed nervously. “I’m fine, really. There’s no need for that.”

He didn’t seem convinced at all, but after some insistence, Oscar backed off. “Alright, if you’re sure. At least let me make it up to you. How about some coffee? My treat.”

Well, that’s pretty much how it all began. One coffee turned into another, then into long conversations about everything and nothing. You couldn’t quite believe how easy it was to talk to him. Usually you’d find yourself nervous around guys, but he was kind, thoughtful, and never made you feel uncomfortable and pressured. Slowly, those coffee dates turned into something more, and before you know it, Oscar had asked you to be his girlfriend. Though you couldn’t help but cringe when you thought back to the moment you said yes to him. You had never been so flustered, unsure of how to respond, that instead of a kiss like a normal person, you just gave him a hug. A damn hug. You had felt his arms wrap around you tightly, his laughter vibrating in his chest.

“So I take it that it’s a yes, then?” he had asked, his voice teasing but soft.

You had nodded into his shoulder, very embarrassed beyond belief. But Oscar being Oscar, he didn't care. He hadn’t even brought it up afterwards, as if he’d expect nothing more than that simple embrace–and that’s what you loved about him. Oscar never pushed you, never made you feel like you always had to rush into anything. He was patient and understanding in a way that felt comforting. Sometimes, late at night, you would lie next to him, just staring at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. The fears you once had, the doubts that plagued your mind–none of them seemed to matter anymore every time you are with him.

One evening, after spending the day together exploring the city, you found yourselves sitting on a park bench, watching the sunset. It was quiet, the kind of comfortable silence that you loved and felt like home.

“Do you ever wonder if this is all real?” you asked him, your voice barely above a whisper. Oscar turned to look at you, his expression gentle. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know…sometimes I just can’t believe this is happening. I never thought I’d be in a relationship like this. Felt overwhelming and surreal sometimes.” he smiled, reaching out to take your hand in his. “I get it. I never thought I’d meet someone like you either.”

You blushed at his words, feeling the warmth of his hand in yours. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, squeezing your hand lightly. “You don’t have to worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew. You knew very well that all the fears you once had, all the time you had spent overthinking and countless anxiety–they didn’t matter anymore. None of it matters anymore. With Oscar, you felt safe, loved, and secured in a way you had never imagined. He wasn’t just your first boyfriend, he was your first in everything–the first person to show you what love really felt like.

Six months into your relationship with Oscar, you had managed to avoid what most people would consider a natural part of being a couple–kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, hell you definitely do want to kiss him so badly, to the point you had daydreamed about it plenty of times, thinking about how his lips might feel against yours. But every time you thought about it, your mind would spin, and your nerves would take over. You’d never kissed anyone before, and the idea of messing up, of completely not knowing what to do, terrified the shit out of you. Sure, you had kissed him on the cheeks, hugged him endlessly, but never once had your lips touched his. You couldn’t help but wonder how Oscar was so patient with you, how he never complained or pushed for more, he was very understanding in a way that made you feel safe. Sometimes, you even questioned how he could be satisfied or survived with just a few cheek kisses.

Yes, you had been raised in such a traditional household, but Oscar was special–so incredibly special–that the pressure you put on yourself to make the moment perfect felt overwhelming. Still, you knew that at some point, you’d have to gather the courage to just do it. But every time you tried to psych yourself up, you’d just freeze, thinking about it drove you crazy. There would be times where you’d hear people joke about you being a prude, or wonder aloud how anyone could go long without kissing their partner on the lips, but the truth was, you were just terrified.

Then came Baku. It was Oscar’s second win at the Baku Grand Prix, and you had traveled to the race with his family to cheer him on. The excitement in the air was evident as you stood by the barricades at the Parc Fermé, anxiously waiting for him to climb out of his car. Your heart raced as you watched him pull into the P1 space, his car coming to a stop, and pulled himself out of the cockpit.

Your heart nearly stopped when he stumbled slightly as he got on the top of his car, and you had to suppress the urge to vault over the barrier to make sure he was okay. But Oscar quickly steadied himself, he then pulled off his helmet and balaclava in one smooth motion, his hair a sweaty mess, but his eyes bright with victory. Oscar spotted you instantly, a wide grin breaking out across his face as he ran quickly towards you, and before you knew it, you were wrapped up in his arms. You held him tightly, feeling the energy and adrenaline coursing through him as he hugged you back.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered against his shoulder, the words almost lost in the noise of the crowd. “You were incredible.”

Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands finding their place gently on your cheeks. His thumb brushed your skin softly, and for a brief moment, the noise of the world around you seemed to fade away. He gazed at you with so much love in his eyes, the kind that made your heart flutter. Oscar had always been patient, understanding, never once pressuring you into anything you weren’t ready for. He knew about your fears, about how you hadn’t had your first kiss yet, but you had never told him why. Even without knowing the full reason, he had always respected your space and waited for you to feel comfortable.

But something was different today. The way he looked at you was different, and you felt it too–a shift inside you, a calmness you hadn’t expected. You weren’t scared at this moment, not with him. Somehow, Oscar seemed to sense that change too. He smiled softly, his hands still cradling your face as he leaned in just slightly.

“Is this okay?” he asked quietly, giving you the chance to back out if you needed to.

Your heart raced in your chest, feeling like it was gonna leap out from your chest, but for the first time in months, it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of love, out of excitement, out of knowing that this was the moment. You smiled up at him, nodding gently. That was all he needed.

Oscar’s touch remained as gentle as ever, his hands caressing your face as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was familiar, comforting, something he’d done a thousand times before. Then, he kissed the tip of your nose, making you giggle softly, your nerves starting to melt away. Then finally, he leaned down and kissed you on the lips.

The world seemed to stop as his lips met yours, soft and warm, and everything you had feared about this moment vanished. It wasn’t awkward or overwhelming like you had imagined–it was simple, perfect. Oscar kissed you gently, not rushing, not pushing for more than you were ready for. It was the kind of kiss that made you feel safe, like he was letting you know that this was just the beginning, and there was no need to rush. When he pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against yours, both of you smiling softly, sharing a private moment amidst the chaos of the race celebrations around you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Oscar teased you lightly, his voice warm and full of affection. You laughed softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess not,” you whispered, hands still resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Oscar smiled, kissing your forehead again, and you knew in that moment that no matter how scared you had been before, being with him made everything feel right.

Later that evening, after all the chaos of the podium celebrations, press interviews, and flood of congratulatory messages, you found yourself in a much quieter setting with Oscar and his family. The energy from the race still buzzed in the air, but there was a sense of calm now, a comfortable warmth that filled the room as you all gathered around for a private celebration. You felt so at home with his family, like you were part of the family, and in moments like these, you couldn’t help but think of how lucky you were to have Oscar and this incredible group of people who treated you with so much love.

Dinner was simple but perfect, the conversation flowing easily between stories of the race and light-hearted teasing. You were sitting beside Oscar, with your hand resting comfortably under the table, something that felt so natural now, like an unspoken connection between the two of you. He would glance over at you every now and then, giving you that boyish smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. The moment you shared earlier at the track still lingered in your mind–your first kiss. It felt surreal, but in the best way possible.

After the dinner, Oscar had asked if he can spend the remainder of the night with you alone, to have some private moment. His family agreed and a few teasing had been made as well, but you and Oscar just laughed. By then, you decided to return to the hotel, to have some private and alone time with each other. Oscar sat beside you on the couch, his arms draped casually around your shoulders, pulling you close. His fingers played lightly with a strand of your hair as you leaned into him, your head resting on his chest. The bustling noise of the city seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath you.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about that kiss all night,” Oscar whispered suddenly, his voice low so only you could hear him. Your cheeks flushed, and you turned slightly to look up at him, your lips curling into a shy smile. “Yeah? What about our kiss?”

He grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It was worth the wait. I’ve been waiting for that moment since the day I met you. Being it during my win made it more special.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes playfully, though the butterflies in your stomach refused to settle. “You’re just saying that.” Oscar chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently over your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not sure you realize how patient I’ve had to be. But you’re worth every second.”

You felt your heart was about to combust at his words, and you felt yourself melt a little more into his side. There was something about the way Oscar always knew how to make you feel special, how he could say the simplest things and make you feel like the most important person in the world.

You smiled up at him, your voice soft as you said, “I’m really glad it was you. I’ve always been scared of what it would be like, but you made it…perfect.”

Oscar’s expression softened, his eyes full of that warmth and affection you had come to adore. “That’s all I wanted. For it to feel right for you.” Leaning up slightly, you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a surge of affection as you did so. “Thank you for waiting.”

“I’d wait a lifetime for you if I had to.” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi, I just wanted to ask: If you end up writing something for the monsterfalls au do you think you could do something where reader helps to groom Ford or Stan's newly acquired wings and them just loving the attention and care they give them? Also, love your stories and thanks if you decide to do this.

Stan, while thinking his new appearance was great for scaring kids on Summerween, hated his stone wings that weighed like a pair of cinder blocks.

They made sleeping difficult! How do you make sleeping difficult?! Apparently becoming a stone gargoyle.

That wasn’t even the worst thing either. Ford told him once after he complained about how his wings felt itched and irritated, almost like an itch he couldn’t scratch, that his wings needed constant preening whenever necessary as to avoid such situations from happening.

However Stan couldn’t exactly reach everywhere that needed preening and grew annoyed but his saviour arrived in the form of you.

‘Doll face! Just the person I’m looking for, would you mind helping me with my wings? They’ve been a pain in my ass this entire morning and I could really use some help in getting to the spots I can’t reach.’ He says as you examined his wings, strong and durable just like him, but oddly enough were soft like clay underneath; also just like him

‘I’d be happy to help Stanley but why me? You could’ve asked the kids or even Ford to help preen.’ You asked and Stan stiffened as he remembered the fact that Ford told him about preening; it was a mating thing to display the bond between mates amongst other reasons, which was mainly why he wanted you to preen his wings for him.

Stan scratched the back of his head. ‘Eh, none of them are in the house, doing their own thing or whether and even if they were they’d probably pull out the wrong feather.’ He quickly explains himself, hoping you’d buy it.

‘Okay, why don’t you lay down on your stomach and I’ll get to work.’ You replied after a brief moment of silence and Stanley sighed in relief as he was quick to flop on his bed, displaying his beautiful wings for you to gawk at.

Ford maybe a sphinx with pretty wings but you found Stanley’s wings even prettier, they looked as though they have priceless minerals within them, glistening beneath the light. They were a beauty to behold for those who actually cared to look at them and it never failed to take your breath away. ‘Beautiful.’ You murmured to yourself as you began to gently pull out the loose stone feathers that weighted like a pebble within your hand.

Stan felt like he could’ve fallen asleep then and there with how therapeutic he felt, he could feel his wings getting lighter with each loose feather you pulled, growling lowly in content as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the way your hands carefully navigated his sturdy wings. He could’ve told you to be a bit rougher as they were like ordinary wings, but he throughly liked the way you treated them like they were glass and the way you run your fingertips in appreciation of them while counting the minerals within them, thinking he wouldn’t notice but he did and he couldn’t help but smile softly to himself.

He could happily stay like this forever if he could but he knew he couldn’t, so Stanley will take whatever time with you he could and keep it close to his heart to remind himself that someone does care about him and his stupid stone wings.

Ford took immense care of his wings but he often forgets that he has them when he’s deep in thought, which leads to him knocking stuff over, smacking Stanley, you or the kids accidentally with them and so on.

His wings were beautiful, majestic and fluffy, unlike Stanley’s which were the colour of gunmetal or cold stone or even gravel.

So whenever he forgets that his wings needed preening, he won’t know until you point it out to him, which is what you did.

‘Ford, did you forget to preen your wings?’ You asked as Ford looks over his shoulder and at his wings, where he could obviously see there was a few feathers that needed to be removed.

‘Ah so that’s why I’ve been in such discomfort as of recently, thank you my beloved for pointing it out. I shall preen them as soon as I’m done here.’ Ford replied but you pressed your hand onto his shoulder.

‘Why don’t you let me preen your wings for you?’

Ford blushed, he has read somewhere that pressing one’s wings was a thing only done between mates, or even that of a courting ritual amongst some bird species, but not only that but preening one’s wings was also seen as a means of survival and self care of one’s being. So the thought of the of you doing his wings for him had a whole lot more meaning to him as he would very much like you to preen his wings, but feared that he might make some…noises of enjoyment from your actions.

You saw his hesitance and said. ‘I’ll be gentle but then again it is all up to you as they are your wings, that and I don’t want to see you in discomfort or pain.’

Ford’s features softened as the blush died down. ‘Okay my dear I trust you with my wings.’

You smile as you sat yourself behind him and began to get to work in easing the loose feathers as carefully as you could, making sure you weren’t using more forced them necessary while praising Ford and his beautiful wings. ‘Your wings are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, but then again they only reflect the person blessed with such wings.’ You then sweetly kissed where his wings connect to his back, a sensitive spot for Ford, causing the man to take a sharp breath as you do so before relaxing once more.

He was a little tense to start off with but gradually Ford felt himself melt under your carful touch and caresses as he purrs low in the back of his throat, tail slowly swishing in a display of his happiness and content regarding the current situation. He knew from that moment as you placed the loose feathers into a neat pile by your feet that he didn’t want anyone else to preen his wings but you.

Then again he was never in dispute with this idea of you preening his wings, he was just a bit awkward and unsure how to ask such a task of you without it coming across too strong, or that you didn’t have a choice but to agree to preening his wings. He just wanted to spend time with you and it just so happened that his wings were also in a state of disarray when you came in, all of which was completely unplanned and purely coincidental, but Ford couldn’t help but thank fate for this moment for he would treasure it forever and always.

‘You okay Ford? I think you’re…purring.’ You spoke with a smile upon your face when you felt his tail hit against your foot, finding it adorable as the purring coming from him.

‘Yes I’m perfectly fine my dear, perfectly fine.’ Ford reassured with a smile upon his face. ‘Perfectly fine indeed.’

[snowballseal]

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?” 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that. 

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look. 

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.” 

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit. 

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question. 

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly. 

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers. 

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

[chimcess]

Unparalleled || jjk

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other tags: Idol!Jungkook, Photographer!Reader Word Count: 6.6k+ Genre:  One-shot, established relationship, PWP, long distance relationship AU, smut Synopsis: You had only met him once, a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things, and the fact that he was on the other side of the hotel door felt surreal. Or, after being in a long-distance relationship for over a year, you and Jungkook are finally meeting up. Warnings: This is literally just porn, there’s a plot but it’s just filth, soft-dom JK, he calls reader “baby,” oral (m&f), d*ck piercing, tatted jk, jk wears glasses (the entire time), dirty talk, desperate sex, couch sex, they barely made it inside tbh, protected sex (wrap it up babes), multiple positions, light begging, light body worship, light praise, some teasing, reader cums on his face, multiple orgasms, nipple play, nipple sucking, some nipple biting, hair pulling, aftercare cuddling, sweet ending, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: I’m still getting used to writing smut, so I’m sorry if this is a bit awkward in some spots. Found this in my drafts, so I fixed it up a little bit and decided to post it. Thanks for reading.

Staring down at my fidgeting hands, I felt like the taxi was closing in on me, every tick of the clock amplifying the sense of claustrophobia. Twenty minutes felt like an eternity, dragging by as if time itself were taunting me. I stole another glance at my phone, re-reading Jungkook's last message like it was some sort of magic spell. 

Kookie: 324

It was surreal to think he was right here in California, just a short drive away, no oceans or time zones separating us. My leg bounced nervously beneath the table, the excitement swirling in my stomach like butterflies in a frenzy. Each moment felt charged with anticipation, a thrilling energy that made my heart race. I quickly typed out a response, adding a heart emoji before sending my location. Jungkook always said sharing my location made him feel closer to me, bridging the gap between our worlds, even with his whirlwind schedule that rarely left room for anything else. Being one of the biggest pop stars had a way of pulling a guy in a million directions.

I couldn’t help but smile as I recalled our first meeting. It was right after the lockdown ended, during his band’s visit to California for a concert and the Grammys. I still vividly remembered standing by the snack table, nervously clutching a half-empty cup of soda, when our eyes met for the first time. There was an electric spark in that moment, something I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. His grin was infectious, his playful nature shining through, and my heart had skipped a beat at the sound of his laughter. It echoed in my mind like a melody I wanted to play on repeat.

A few months later, we had entered a long-distance relationship, navigating the challenges of his demanding career while trying to keep our connection alive. Late-night video calls, flirty texts, and the occasional surprise visit were our lifelines, but nothing could compare to the rush of being together in the same room. And now, the thought of finally seeing him in person again sent a rush of warmth through me, a blend of hope and nervous energy that was hard to contain.

As I waited, I replayed our conversations in my mind—each one a thread weaving our lives together despite the distance. We shared dreams, fears, and whispered secrets, laying the groundwork for something beautiful and profound. The thought of being in his presence again, of feeling his warmth and the comfort of his touch, made my heart race with excitement.

I glanced at the clock again, biting my lip in anticipation. Each minute stretched into hours, the seconds crawling by. Would he still feel the same? Would our chemistry translate into real life as effortlessly as it did through screens and messages? Doubts flitted through my mind, but I shook them off, focusing on the joy of the moment. Jungkook was just a heartbeat away, and soon, I would be in his arms. The very idea sent a shiver down my spine.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my thoughts. I scrambled to open the notification, my heart racing. If Jungkook messaged, I had to respond quickly. Our conversations were a race against time, a way to squeeze moments of connection into his packed schedule. Phone calls were our only reliable lifeline, but the language barrier complicated things. We were both trying, though Jungkook's English was much better than my Korean.

Kookie: 나는 신나요

Giggling, I typed back a response.

Y/N: 나도

Kookie: Good job, 자기~

Nothing made Jungkook happier than seeing me try to improve my Korean. He always insisted it was adorable, his smile brightening every time I stumbled through a phrase. Yoongi was usually the more honest one, quick to point out my mispronunciations, but Jungkook wore that supportive boyfriend badge with pride, even if it meant telling me little white lies.

As the taxi pulled up to the hotel, my heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. I thanked the driver, tipping generously as I stepped out into the warm night air. The moment I did, the fragrant scent of blooming jasmine wafted around me, mingling with the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. I had only packed a small bag for our two-night stay, not knowing how much time we’d actually have together. Remembering that, I hurried up the steps, my footsteps echoing against the marble tiles.

The Sunset Hotel was unlike anything I’d imagined. I had envisioned a quiet, almost sleepy place, but instead, it was alive with activity. I couldn’t believe it was two in the morning; the lobby was bustling, a vibrant mix of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint notes of live music drifting from the bar area. The energy crackled in the air like electricity, and I felt an exhilarating rush. Yet, amidst the lively atmosphere, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Just a few moments ago, in the taxi, I had almost forgotten about Jungkook’s status as one of the biggest pop stars in the world, but now, beneath the sparkling chandelier that cast shimmering patterns across the polished floor, it was impossible to ignore.

As I walked through the brightly lit lobby, I caught glimpses of elegantly dressed guests, their conversations animated, their laughter ringing out like musical notes. I felt like a fish out of water, dressed in a casual sundress while they flaunted designer attire. Who would have thought my years in the service industry—working late nights and juggling demanding customers—would lead me here, about to meet someone who could afford such luxury? The thought both thrilled and terrified me.

At the front desk, the staff shot me quick, assessing looks. Their eyes were sharp, as if measuring my worth in this lavish setting. One of the hosts greeted me with a forced smile that felt far too wide for comfort. “Welcome to the Sunset Hotel! How can I assist you tonight?” Their voice dripped with that practiced hospitality, but I could sense a subtle skepticism beneath the surface.

“Um, I’m here to check in,” I replied, my voice steady despite the fluttering in my chest. I fished my phone out of my bag, ready to show them the reservation I’d made, but the host raised an eyebrow, glancing down at the computer screen as if evaluating my very presence.

“Name?” they asked, still wearing that unnaturally bright smile.

“Y/N,” I replied, and I held my breath as they typed it in. A brief moment of silence stretched between us, the bustling lobby fading into a distant murmur as I waited for their response. 

“Ah, yes! We have you right here,” they said finally, their tone shifting to one of mild surprise. “You’re the other half of 324, correct?” They looked at me again, and I could feel the weight of their judgment, as if I were a puzzle they were trying to fit into a larger picture.

“Right,” I said, attempting to keep my tone light. “Should just be for the weekend.” 

The host’s smile remained, but the glint in their eye suggested they were piecing together the details, perhaps even recognizing my connection to Jungkook. As they handed me the key card, I felt a rush of anxiety. What if they didn’t think I belonged here? What if Jungkook didn’t feel the same way about me once we were together?

I took the key, my fingers brushing against the cool surface, and turned to head toward the elevator. I was acutely aware of the looks I was receiving, a mix of curiosity and skepticism from both staff and guests alike. The air was thick with expectations, and I could almost hear the whispers in my mind, doubting whether I was truly worthy of this moment. But I pushed those thoughts aside. This was about Jungkook and me, our connection. And soon, I would be in his presence, feeling the warmth of his smile and the excitement of our reunion. 

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the elevator, the doors closing behind me like a protective barrier from the outside world. As the car ascended, I clutched my bag, heart racing with every passing floor. This was it. In just a few moments, I would be face-to-face with the boy who had ignited something within me, and no amount of uncertainty could overshadow that truth.

I shifted from foot to foot in the cramped elevator, the anticipation eating away at me like a swarm of butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Each second felt like an eternity, stretching my nerves thinner and thinner. I took out my phone, biting back a smile as I contemplated the moment. It was so surreal that I was just a few moments away from seeing Jungkook again after what felt like an eternity apart.

In a burst of excitement, I snapped a quick picture of the elevator doors opening, the sleek metallic finish reflecting the soft glow of the lobby lights. I sent it to Jungkook with a playful caption: *“Almost there!”* Watching the little blue ticks appear, I felt a rush of warmth, knowing he’d see it almost instantly.

Once inside the elevator, I pressed the button for the third floor with a mix of hope and trepidation. It only made sense that the 300s would be located on the third floor, right? Still, the absence of any signs directing me left me feeling a bit disoriented. The elevator hummed softly, its gentle movement barely easing the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind.

The walls felt a bit too close, almost as if they were closing in on me, but I took a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I replayed the memories of our conversations, the laughter we shared, and the longing I felt every time we parted. The excitement pulsing through me was intoxicating, a vivid contrast to the anxious tension coiling in my chest.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed in my hand, jolting me out of my reverie. I glanced down, my heart skipping a beat as I saw Jungkook's name flashing on the screen. 

Kookie: I’m going to kiss you so much.

I couldn’t help but smile. I hoped kissing would be just the beginning of what would happen tonight. After a year of building up tension, I didn’t want to wait anymore. I wanted him.

Y/N: 또?

Kookie: I can’t think of it in English.

Rolling my eyes, I groaned. That was his way of avoiding a question. I knew he understood, but it amused me more than anything. Slowly, my nerves eased, and I felt more confident about seeing him, even if we were hiding away in a hotel I could never afford, lying on expensive sheets while the world outside spun with sharp eyes and curious gazes.

As the elevator dinged softly, signaling my arrival at the third floor, I felt a surge of adrenaline. The doors slid open smoothly, revealing a dimly lit hallway lined with plush carpeting and framed art pieces that whispered of elegance. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out, the plush carpet muffling my footsteps as I moved forward. The anticipation hung in the air like a charged atmosphere before a storm, and I could almost feel Jungkook’s presence drawing me closer.

I glanced at the room numbers, scanning for his. As I walked, I imagined what it would be like to finally be face-to-face with him. Would he look the same? Would that boyish grin still light up his face when he saw me? The thought sent my heart racing as I turned a corner, catching sight of the numbers I had been searching for. 

Room 324. My breath caught in my throat, and for a fleeting moment, I hesitated, overwhelmed by a wave of nerves. What if things were different now? What if he had changed? But I quickly shook off the doubts; this was Jungkook, the boy I had laughed and shared secrets with, the one who had kept my heart fluttering even from a distance.

With a firm resolve, I approached the door, my heart pounding in rhythm with my steps. I held my breath, the moment stretching out like a taut string ready to snap. Would he answer? Would he be excited to see me? I could hardly contain the anticipation, my heart racing as I waited for that door to swing open. The air crackled with anticipation, buzzing with the weight of what was about to happen. 

I raised my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could even touch the wood, the door swung open. And there he was—Jungkook.

He was everything I remembered: pitch-black hair tousled in a way that was both effortless and enticing, metal glinting in the light, thin, silver rimmed glasses, and a thin white t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. It felt surreal, like stepping into a vivid dream, but this was no illusion. This was real, and it took my breath away.

"You," I whispered, the word slipping out like a gasp. 

His dark eyes widened in surprise, delight flickering across his features. My heart raced as I watched him take me in, his expression shifting from uncertainty to something deeper, more intimate. Had he been waiting for this moment as much as I had? Was he just as happy as I felt?

All my doubts faded when that eyebrow, heavy with steel, raised in appreciation instead of scorn. He stepped into the hallway, and my heart pounded wildly, the space between us charged with an unspoken promise.

"You," he echoed, his voice low and husky as he took my hand in his, guiding me back into his room. 

He kicked the door shut behind him. The air thickened as he moved closer, inches separating us, electric and intoxicating. I inhaled the scent of him—soap and laundry detergent—sending shivers down my spine. A soft whimper escaped my lips, desire pooling in my stomach like a spark waiting to ignite.

With an air of confidence, he advanced, and I leaned back, the weight of his presence drawing me in like gravity. I stopped when my back hit the couch, the world outside fading away as we paused, our breaths mingling in the charged silence. My fingers, betraying me, reached up to trace the row of piercings in his eyebrow, trailing down the line of his jaw to his lips. They were soft and rosy, a striking contrast to the rough stubble that scratched my palm.

In that moment, he darted his tongue out, the pointed tip brushing against my fingers, and I moaned softly, the sound echoing in the intimate space between us, igniting the fire that had been simmering beneath the surface.

And then he was on me.

He seized my hand, guiding it into the tousled mess of hair I had longed to touch. It was softer than I had imagined, and I lost myself in it. His mouth descended on mine, a fiery torrent of passion and urgency. My body responded instinctively, arching into him as our breaths mingled, his desire palpable against my stomach, the taste of longing lingering on his lips.

His palm traced a path down my arm, firm and possessive, sliding over my shoulder and back again. He tugged at the buttons of my cardigan, peeling the fabric away to reveal the inked skin beneath. I shivered at the roughness of his touch, a thrilling contrast to the softness of his kiss.

Breaking away, I pressed my mouth against the line of his jaw, trailing wet kisses toward the piercings in his ear, letting my tongue tease them as my breath washed hot against his skin.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” He whispered against my lips.

I panted, my fingers tangling tightly in his hair.

His hands tightened around my arms, pulling us together, the weight of our bodies colliding in a desperate embrace. “Every single day,” he swore, his voice rough yet melodic. He began a slow, deliberate exploration of my neck, the heat of his tongue tracing my pulse and making me shudder. “Every night that you called me, whispering sweet nothings in that voice. It drove me insane. I just wanted to hop on a plane and have you in my lap.”

“God, I wish you would have,” I gasped, feeling the bite of his teeth just below my collarbone, a thrilling blend of pain and pleasure that made me clench around nothing. “Why didn’t you?”

“You make me nervous,” he murmured, teasing aside the cup of my bra.

He took my nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking against the bud with reverence. I whined in pleasure, arching into him. Emboldened, he bit down.

“Self-conscious, huh?” I teased, winded and shaking from pleasure, even as my nails dug into his back, urging him closer. “I have a hard time believing that right now.”

He pulled back, capturing my face in his strong hands, kissing me fiercely as a low growl escaped him. “Believe it.”

We kissed with a fierce intensity that made me feel like I was on fire, the heat radiating off him, his glasses pressing against my face. He shifted to remove them, but I caught his wrists, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” I growled. “I like them.”

A primal sound erupted from his chest, desperate and raw. He lifted me effortlessly, settling me against the back of the couch, our bodies grinding together, my thighs aligning perfectly with the hard heat of his jeans. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure surging through me, my head falling back as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, feeling weightless and electric, consumed by a desire that felt like it could set us both ablaze.

But he caught me. Just as I was about to tumble backward into dizzying, white-hot pleasure, his arms wrapped around me, firm and unyielding, pulling me against the solid expanse of his chest. My breath came in quick, frantic gasps, my heart racing like a wild animal as I clung to him, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

“Careful, pretty girl,” he breathed into my ear, a soft murmur that sent shivers racing down my spine. I grasped at his back, fingers digging into the taut muscles, anchoring myself to him, afraid of being swept away in the tide of desire threatening to pull me under.

My hands roamed from his back, gliding over his shoulders and down his arms as he stroked his fingertips along my thighs, mapping a path from my knees to my hips and back again. His skin was warm, electric under my touch, and I traced the intricate black curls of ink adorning his pale flesh—an abstract tapestry resolving into a lion on one arm and a lamb on the other.

“You’re beautiful,” I gasped, the words spilling out before I could stop them, but he silenced me with another heated kiss. 

My fingers fumbled at the hem of his t-shirt, desperate to see what those curls of ink transformed into beneath the fabric. He shifted me closer, his grip on me unwavering, even as his hands momentarily released me to lift his arms above his head. Seizing the opportunity, I tugged at his shirt, peeling it away to reveal the canvas of his torso, the intricate lines of ink telling stories I longed to hear.

I barely had time to take in the intricate Sanskrit lines etched along his side and the lone kanji character hovering over his heart before he was lifting my shirt, pulling it over my head. For a heartbeat, I was enveloped in darkness, blinded by the fabric. My hands scrambled behind me, fumbling to unclasp my bra, and he kissed a heated trail along the bare skin of my shoulder as the straps slipped down my arms.

“I love this,” he murmured against my skin, his lips trailing softly across my collarbone, down my ribs, and back to my breast, igniting every nerve in my body. “And I love it all the more because of this.”

His tongue brushed over the small butterfly tattoo on my ribcage.

His fingers roamed lower, and when he pulled away, I let out a whimper of protest, longing for his touch. The light-headed sensation returned, reminding me just how long it had been since a man had touched me—since I’d felt filled.

I braced myself with one hand against the edge of the couch while the other tangled in his tousled hair, relishing its softness as it slipped through my fingers. His mouth found my stomach, his tongue dipping into my navel, tracing a tantalizing line toward my most sensitive spot. I gasped, an overwhelming hunger igniting deep within me. I had been yearning for this, for him, and the desperate need flooded my senses.

With deft fingers, he teased apart the button of my fly and drew down the zipper, revealing delicate black lace beneath. He licked and sucked his way to my hip, his hand lingering on my abdomen, thumb skirting under the edge of my underwear before descending lower, finally finding bare, glistening skin. When his fingers grazed my clit, pleasure surged through me, and I nearly cried out at its raw intensity.

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping,” he cursed, his voice rough with desire as he buried his face against the joint of my hip and thigh.

“For you,” I groaned, my body arching instinctively. “I’ve been wet for months just thinking about you.”

A low growl escaped him, and in a blur of motion, he tore the hem of my jeans down, ripping them from my body until I was left in nothing but my panties. He pushed my naked thighs up and over his shoulders, positioning his head exactly where I craved him to be.

I struggled to contain my frantic breaths, fast and shallow, echoing my absolute need to feel his hands, his mouth, to be consumed by him entirely. He inhaled deeply, reverently, his nose brushing against the lace where my body met my thigh. The sensation sent shockwaves through me, rendering me breathless.

He wrapped one hand around my leg while the other snaked behind me, gripping my ass firmly, anchoring me as he pulled the soaked fabric aside, exposing my bare skin to his hungry gaze. His thumb descended onto my clit, and I gasped, waves of need crashing over me as pleasure radiated from his touch. I cried out, the sound escaping me like a prayer, my body arching toward him, desperate for more.

And then he kissed me, his mouth capturing my clit with an intensity that sent me spiraling.

The moans clawing their way from my chest were unrecognizable, a desperate symphony of need as I became a writhing mass of pure, unadulterated hunger. Unlatching himself, his thumb worked expertly at my clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through me. His tongue darted out, teasing the edges of my entrance before plunging inside, and I felt the pressure building, the storm that had been gathering finally reaching its peak until I exploded, my thighs clenching around his face as my body ignited into a searing inferno.

I teetered on the edge of ecstasy, and then I actually fell over, the world spiraling away.

When I regained awareness, I was sprawled across the back of the couch, my neck twisted awkwardly, the top of my head grazing the seat cushion. My arms draped limply above me while my thighs remained anchored to his shoulders. He gazed down at me, a mixture of curiosity and satisfaction etched across his face, his mouth glistening—a testament to our fervor.

With a wicked smirk, he wiped his mouth with his forearm, leaving me in my awkward state as he peeled my panties down my body, rendering me completely exposed and unable to rise. His finger glided along my opening, my body still thrumming with aftershocks from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever experienced. When he dipped gently inside, I gasped.

“Is this what you want, Y/N? My hands inside you?” 

I found myself ensnared in a whirlwind of emotions; I craved this intimacy with him more than anything, yet it felt like just a fragment of the whole picture. The sensation of his fingers deep within me was intoxicating, but beneath that, there lingered a yearning for more—more than just his hands. I ached for him—his body hovering over mine, the heat radiating from him as I traced the ink etched across his skin, my tongue teasing the silver piercings that adorned him.

“Yes. No. God, I want you,” I gasped, my voice a mixture of longing and desperation.

He raised a pierced eyebrow, still kneeling before me, his fingers buried deep inside me. “Want your cock.”

“You want this dick?” he asked, his tone both teasing and serious.

“Yes,” I panted, the word slipping out as both a plea and a command.

“Where?” 

I knew exactly where I wanted him; the desire burned brightly within me. “Everywhere. My hand. My mouth. My pussy. Just… everywhere.” 

A low growl escaped him, reverberating through my body, raw and hungry. But just as quickly, his fingers slipped away, leaving me aching and empty. He gripped my hips, securing me against him and the back of the couch, rising to slide my slick core against the hard line of his body. The urgency of his arousal pressed against me, igniting a fire within. 

He leaned down, gathering me into his arms, kissing me with such fervor that I felt dizzy, his hardness grinding against me—a promise of what was to come.

I pushed him away gently, his expression shifting to one of confusion, but all I needed was a moment to slide off the couch and drop to my knees. He groaned as I ran my nose along the thick outline of him through his jeans, feeling him twitch in response to my teasing. With trembling hands, I tugged his pants and boxers down, revealing him—long, thick, and glistening with anticipation.

The chrome piercing at the tip caught the light, gleaming enticingly. 

Looking up, I found him hovering above me, his body bared save for those damn glasses. His intense gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea reflected in his brown eyes. “Y/N,” I breathed, letting my warm breath wash over the tip of him. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, urging me forward.

“God, I want to feel your mouth on me,” he implored, igniting a wild hunger within me. 

I opened my mouth, eager and wet, my lips closing around the head of him, my tongue tracing the underside, the cool metal against warm flesh sending shivers down my spine. 

“Y/N.”

I pulled away before I could take him too deep, trailing my mouth down his length, savoring every moment as I buried my nose into the soft hair at the base of him. He was practically whimpering, and I couldn’t resist the urge to pump him twice with my hand, the slickness gliding over him before I took him into my mouth, relaxing my throat to envelop him. Yet even with all my efforts, I couldn’t fit him completely, and I rubbed my thighs together, craving the moment he would finally fill me.

I moved my mouth up and down his length, achingly slow, feeling the tension coiling within him, his hips twitching, restrained. He wanted to thrust, to take control, but I held him back, guiding his movements while keeping him still. I could sense his legs trembling, teetering on the edge, so I pulled off, leaving him panting, his length throbbing, a testament to our shared desire.

Kissing the sharp bone of his hip, I pulled his pants the rest of the way down as he kicked off his shoes, the fabric sliding away like a whisper in the night. Just as I was about to toss the jeans aside, he stopped me, his voice low and husky. “Back pocket.”

Curiosity piqued, I glanced up at him through narrowed eyes and retrieved the little foil package from his back pocket. I noticed at least two more tucked away, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he had remarkable recovery time or if he was planning a very long weekend with me. Both notions sent a thrilling rush coursing through me

I held the condom up between two of my fingers. Jungkook snatched the package from me, tearing it open with a deft motion, rolling it over his cock from tip to base. He pressed his sheathed length against my hip, our bodies brushing together with a desperation that left me breathless.

“Turn,” he commanded, gently pushing at my shoulder. I obeyed, and his hands shoved me down, bending me from the waist, positioning my elbows on the back of the couch. When he was satisfied with my submission, he settled his hands firmly on my shoulder blades, a searing presence that felt as though it might melt through my skin, branding me with his touch.

His hands glided down my sides, over my ribs and hips, finally settling on my ass, rubbing it appreciatively. The edges of his fingers grazed my lips, parting them, and I jerked backward, feeling the heat of his cock resting against my back.

“Wider, baby,” he cooed, his fingers sliding over my trembling thighs. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the rush of sensation, and obeyed, spreading my legs for him. His knees bent between mine, the tip of his cock gliding tantalizingly from my clit to my entrance, brushing against me but not penetrating.

“Please, Jungkook,” I panted, desperation clawing at my throat as I felt myself teetering on the edge of begging.

Even he found himself pleading. “Please let me inside you,” he whispered, his length teasingly tracing my wet flesh, dipping slightly to part my lips but not filling the aching void within me.

“Yes,” I groaned, finally feeling the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, slipping into me inch by glorious inch. Nothing had ever felt this intense. “Fuck, yes,” I moaned, his grip hot and possessive at my hip while the other hand cradled the back of my neck, steadying me.

It was maddening not being able to move, even though all I wanted was to rock back and pull him deeper. 

My body stretched as he pushed forward, achingly slow until he was fully seated within me, his hips flush against my backside. I gasped as he filled me completely. The sensation was electrifying, and I felt him rock back slightly before surging forward again, the combination of his length and the hot tip of metal against my walls making my eyes roll.

“Please,” I urged, my mantra of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck me’ spiraling from my lips as he finally began to thrust with abandon, our bodies locked in a passionate dance. 

He tightened his grip on my hip, the other hand sliding to the middle of my back, pushing down. I could feel his movements becoming erratic, less steady—so close to coming inside me.

But I didn’t want it to end like this. Not after all this time. 

“No, stop,” I breathed, the words barely escaping my lips before he froze, a pained sound erupting from him like a wounded animal.

“Please, Jesus, Y/N, you can’t—”

I glanced over my shoulder at him, squeezing him tightly inside me. The resulting moan from his throat sent a jolt of electricity through my body. The rejection and frustration etched across his face twisted my heart. “After all this time missing you,” I whispered, locking eyes with him, “I need to see you. I need to see you come.”

In an instant, he withdrew, turning my body roughly until I felt the couch pressing against me once more. Supporting my back with one hand, he parted my thighs with fierce urgency, stepping into them and plunging back inside me. I screamed, the sound echoing through the empty corners of the room.

His face was close to mine as he began to move again, quick, short thrusts finding a new rhythm. Our sweaty brows collided, the metal hoops of his piercings scratching my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. His name spilled from my lips as we captured each other in another fiery kiss, a moment so intense I thought I could lose myself entirely in the swirl of our bodies, his ink swirling around us like dark tendrils of smoke.

His patience began to fray as he kissed me harder, his body pressing into mine with more urgency. I felt the fiery bloom of pleasure building again, hot and electric, and I craved him hard and fast—a deep connection stripped of all restraint.

He must have sensed my need, too, as he quickened his pace. “Hold on, baby,” he instructed, and I complied, wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly. I let him brace himself against the back of the couch as he drove into me, his pubic bone hitting my clit with each thrust, the metal piercing hitting deep within me making me mewl.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck,” he moans, the raw desperation in his voice igniting something primal within me. 

His face contorts in a beautiful, twisted expression of pleasure, each thrust deeper, harder, as if he’s trying to etch this moment into my very soul. The intensity of his words washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me into a realm of oblivion. My body pulses in rhythm with his, a white-hot light flashing behind my closed eyes, merging with the vision of him—so fully present in my arms, lost in the sheer ecstasy we’ve created together.

As the world around us faded, time seemed to suspend, leaving only the two of us in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy. I could feel the weight of our shared moments pressing against us, every sensation amplified in the silence that enveloped the room. Slowly, we began to come back to ourselves, his body still pressed against mine, a gentle reminder of the electrifying connection we had just shared. The feeling of him lingering inside me sent shivers down my spine, and our breaths intertwined in a rhythm that was both calming and exhilarating.

We exchanged soft kisses, each one delicate and filled with unspoken promises, contrasting the raw passion that had ignited between us moments before. It was a tender kind of intimacy, one that held the power to ground us in a whirlwind of emotions. 

After a moment, he pulled away, slipping out of me with a reluctance that made my heart ache just a little. The sudden emptiness was palpable, a gentle reminder of the closeness we had just experienced. Jungkook reached for the condom, his movements careful and deliberate, disposing of it in the wastebasket beside the couch. When he turned back to me, the soft glow of the room caught the contours of his face, illuminating him in a way that made him look almost ethereal.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the magic of the moment.

“I’m here,” I replied, unable to suppress the grin that broke across my face. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and this moment felt surreal.

Jungkook walked back over to the couch, his gaze roaming over my features as if he were trying to memorize every detail. “You look even better than I remembered,” he said, his smile soft and genuine, lighting up his eyes.

“And you look exhausted,” I teased, noticing the faint shadows under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and busy days.

He laughed, the sound brightening the room and melting away any remnants of anxiety I had carried with me. “It’s been a crazy week, but seeing you makes it all worth it.”

A smile broke across my face, the tension of the past months finally beginning to dissolve. For the first time since I had arrived, I took in my surroundings. The room felt both elegant and cozy, drenched in soft light, with tasteful decor that radiated warmth. A large bed dominated the space, its crisp white sheets looking impossibly inviting, and I found myself wishing we could make our way over there. It seemed far more comfortable than the couch.

“How was your flight?” Jungkook asked, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on my forehead, sending warmth flooding through me.

“Long,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” The truth was, anticipation had been buzzing in my veins like electricity ever since I’d set foot on the plane.

He settled next to me on the couch, his hand finding mine, our fingers intertwining in a way that felt instinctive. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said, his thumb tracing small patterns on my skin, making my heart flutter in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I replied, squeezing his hand tightly. “It feels like forever.”

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the city lights twinkling outside like a constellation trapped within a glass jar. The reality of being here with him began to sink in, settling deep in my bones. No more video calls with choppy connections or hurried texts exchanged amid the chaos of our lives—just us, flesh and blood, finally in the same place.

Breaking the quiet, Jungkook’s tone turned serious, slicing through the warmth that enveloped us. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been tough.”

I took a deep breath, weighing my response. “It’s been hard,” I admitted, the truth heavy on my tongue. “But knowing we’d have this, even just a couple of days, kept me going.” 

He nodded, understanding etched on his face. “It’s the same for me. The craziness of the tour and the constant traveling—it’s all worth it knowing I get to see you.”

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a cold night, soothing my weary soul. We talked for hours, drifting through a sea of conversation that felt both substantial and light, catching up on everything and nothing. His stories from the tour spilled out with infectious excitement, his eyes alight like fireflies in the dark. I shared my own experiences, and with every word, the distance between us began to melt away until it felt like the space of a single breath.

Eventually, exhaustion crept in like a gentle shadow, heavy yet comforting. Jungkook stood up and held out his hand, a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Come on,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Let’s move to the bed. It’s way more comfortable.”

I took his hand, allowing him to guide me across the room. The large bed loomed before us, inviting and cozy, the crisp white sheets beckoning like a sanctuary. As we settled into the plush comfort, I felt a wave of contentment wash over me, a feeling that we were finally exactly where we were meant to be. We lay side by side, fingers intertwined like threads in a tapestry, the world outside fading into a dull hum, the city’s chaos a distant memory.

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[megamindsecretlair]

Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘

A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.

Touch Me Like You Care

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?

Word Count: 4,475k

AO3 Link

A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did. 

After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.

The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.

You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone. 

Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.

Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.

You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.

Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life. 

You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail. 

Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better. 

He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips. 

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin. 

His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?” 

“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked. 

Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break. 

On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.

Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.

“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip. 

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher. 

“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive. 

“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh. 

“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said. 

“I really forgot this time,” you said. 

Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.

“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said. 

“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.

You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf. 

He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.

You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice. 

Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said. 

“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective. 

He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?” 

“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them. 

He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips. 

He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed. 

He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.

It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.

How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that. 

“Baby,” you said and licked your lips. 

Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of. 

Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry. 

Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level. 

It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out. 

“Keep reading,” he said. 

You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly. 

Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?” 

You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said. 

Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said. 

“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm. 

“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said. 

“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan. 

He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else. 

“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer. 

Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.” 

You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers. 

“You know what Daddy needs,” he said. 

Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction. 

“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them. 

It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him. 

He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.

“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel. 

Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence. 

You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him. 

“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed. 

Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other. 

“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned. 

“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves. 

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.

His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed. 

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged. 

“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily. 

“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.

Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve. 

Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”

Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him. 

You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice. 

Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.

“She too tired now?” He asked.

You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture. 

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod. 

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said. 

Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride. 

He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.

A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”

Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.

You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats. 

“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled. 

Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.” 

You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more. 

Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust. 

“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence. 

“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed. 

“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.

You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him. 

“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear. 

“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”

Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged. 

Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things. 

“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek. 

“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered. 

Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said. 

He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned. 

“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.

Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 

“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned. 

Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent. 

“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back. 

“C-Can’t,” you stuttered. 

Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you. 

“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned. 

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned. 

Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder. 

Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted.  “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time. 

“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped. 

You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy. 

You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching. 

Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably. 

“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?” 

You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you. 

There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.

Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck. 

“Taste that?” He asked.

You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed. 

“Sleepy,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.

WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

Taglist: how did this get so big? I love ya'll!

@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide

@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00

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@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk

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@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1

[ladymarvel27]

Frazzle 🎀 Carlos Sainz

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Series Master List

Description: Can he return on time for the date?

f1 masterlist

“But why?” You almost shout out.

“This,” he opens his phone and shows you the message of details, “an event is today, and a meeting tomorrow.”

“I waited two weeks for this date!” You sat down on the edge of the bed, throwing your hands in the air frustrated. “TWO WEEKS!”

“Don’t worry. It’s just a small event. I will try to return by evening, okay?” He assures, placing his hand on your shoulder. You don’t say anything, your head hanging low. He lifts your chin and holds your gaze, “I promise you, I will be back on time.” You softly nod. “Now let’s get your dress before you leave for work, huh?” A small smile makes its way to your face.

The dress he got you hangs neatly in your wardrobe-Pink in colour. You lined up other accessories, a pair of earrings and a necklace to see how they look with it. Your phone dings.

Princess, how are you? He had messaged you.

Yeah, just returned, you? You replied.

Just attending this boring event.

Looks like you’re not enjoying.

Missing you so much me reina, he sends.

I am also missing you, my bear, you texted

Btw I have made dinner for you, check in the refrigerator.

Oh. You went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. You smiled when you saw an airtight container with a sticky note attached, ‘Dinner for you, Senorita’, and a kiss emoji next to it.

Thank you, Senor, you messaged him.

He sends a kiss emoji

Enjoy the dinner amor, going to dinner too, adios, He wrote.

Adios, my love, you replied and closed your phone.

After doing all your chores, you lay on the bed.

Going to sleep, you ate? He messaged.

Yeah, thanks for the dinner, I was too tired, the message was sent, received and read immediately. You smiled.

Few seconds later, he replies, Mention not mi amor

Btw, when will you return?

I have a meeting tomorrow, I will return by evening.

Good to hear.

It will be like the first date. I will pick you up from your home, bring you flowers, see the sunset together and couple dance to your favourite song.

So romantic, aha, you giggle as you write, remembering his old Renault interview. You send him a gif:

😂😂😂, he replies.

How was the event?

Ah, it was boring, but it was important for sponsorship. How was your day?

Yeah, fine, but I am exhausted.

You should go to sleep.

Yeah, I am in bed.

Good.

Goodnight, bear.

Goodnight, princess.

You closed your phone and placed it on the nightstand. You looked around the room, taking in everything. You smiled to yourself, excited for tomorrow's date. Your hand reached for the table lamp’s switch, you turned it off and went to sleep.

The next day, you returned in the early evening to get ready.

Got the flight, will reach by 7, he had texted you few minutes before.

Have a safe journey, you texted, but the message wasn't received by the other end. ‘He is in flight, it’s obvious’, you thought. Your stomach rumbles. You placed the phone on a charger and went to eat something.

You open the refrigerator to take out the face pack you will use. The water bottles were looking at you, but you ignored them. You didn’t want to go to the washroom in between. Leave them. Half an hour later, you come out of the shower and put on your dress. You put on some music while grooming yourself. You hummed to the music looking in the mirror. You weren’t a master, so you only put on a little so that it won’t ruin your look. You applied the finishing lipstick and pouted in front of the mirror. An hour later, you got ready. You decided to open your phone. The message was still not received. You looked at the clock. It was half past seven.

Carlos, where are you??? You messaged him. ‘What happened? Has he again gone missing like on Tuesday?’ You thought.

You sat on the couch and waited, but the message wasn't even reaching him. You tried calling him several times, but the bell wasn’t ringing. You put on your flats and went outside. Maybe he wanted to surprise you. But no signs of him. It was so hot, but you were still standing. Your throat felt dry. After it became intolerable, you went inside, to the balcony instead.

Your eyes roamed all over the neighbourhood, looking for his car if it was approaching. Your body was drying up, but you seemed to ignore it. You were already tense about Carlos. He wasn’t picking up calls, and your messages weren’t reaching him. You called his parents, but they seemed to come across the same problem. He wasn’t ignoring you. The calls weren’t reaching him.

The streetlights were suddenly turned on, blinding you. Your head felt heavy. You held the railing, trying to support yourself as you sat on the floor against the balcony. You tried getting up, but your steps staggered as you slumped on the floor.

Seperators credit: @saradika-graphics @saradika

Taglist: @faithshouseofchaos @itsjustvs4

[mattsturnioloz]

Then I lost you: Pt 5. (last pt.)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Summary: Matt's career as a youtuber takes a toll on his 4 year relationship with his girlfriend, putting it on hold. Will it ever be the same again?

Warnings: angst, unresolved angst, crying, fluff!!

Pairings: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

A/N: (This is gonna be the last part, it’s gonna be sad but hope you guys will love it 🫶🏼 Also I fell asleep in the middle of writing this so forgive me if it’s not my best😖 I recommend listening to the song while reading 😚)

(Also since this part is really long I recommend just replaying the song over and over until the end of the story :) if you wanna cry☠️)

Matt’s Pov:

I drive back back home, The car silent and the negative thoughts come to my head but I quickly drown them out by playing music.

I get home and open the front door, and I go up the stairs to the living room and see Chris and Nick both laying on the couch watching some netflix show and I lay in between them, putting my head on Nicks shoulder. Somewhat needing to feel my brothers comfort.

“Are you okay?” he speaks up looking at me on his shoulder. I shake my head while staring at the tv and picking at my nails. He puts his arm around my shoulders and rests his head against mine and Chris rubs his hand up and down, on my partly exposed back and they exchange sympathetic glances at eachother.

Nick and Chris fall asleep during the show and I get bored, closely listening to the analog clock that we have above the couch, ticking, and the soft snores of Chris and Nick filling my ears.

I decide to get up and clean up around the house, doing basic chores until later in the day when it’s time to get ready. I shower quickly so that I don’t have time to think about the negatives. I grab the towel and dry myself off before going to my room.I go to my closet. The side where y/n’s clothes used to be is empty and the sight hurts. The hangers just.. hanging.

I knock out of it and I change into a plain light grey, almost white hoodie, and light blue baggy jeans with a pair of white air forces. Something casual but nice.

I’m nervous, like I was before picking her up for our first date, 5 years ago. I know where im taking her already and I can’t wait, but it’s going to bring back memories and i’m not sure that it’s a good thing right now.

I put on my Vivienne Westwood earrings and necklace to match before fixing up my hair. I hook my keys on the belt loop of my jeans and I spray cologne and deodorant before turning off my room light and heading out closing the door behind me.

I would say bye to Nick and Chris but they’re passed out on the couch so I go down to the stairs to the front door, leaving and locking the door after I walk out. I walk over to my car, getting in and I can feel my heart beating out of my chest.

I stop by a flower shop and I grab a bouquet of plumeria flowers, her favorite. The same ones I got her on our first date with all sorts of pretty colors that all go well together. They’re beautiful and vibrant, just like her.

I pay for them before I go back out my car and I get in buckling my seatbelt and I take a deep breath before I start the car and I start driving to Y/n’s house. Y/n’s house.

I break down in sobs, letting my cries out before I get to her place. I feel like I can’t breathe, gripping the wheel so tight, that my palms start to turn white.

I get there and park before putting the mirror down and making sure I look okay. I get out taking a deep breath, taking in the warm Los angeles sunset. I go over to her front door and let my fist hover over the door for a moment, my palms sweaty and I wipe them before I knock.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I’m changing into a nice simple white dress, when I hear a knock on the door. Shit. I hope I look okay. I dust my dress off in the mirror while also checking if my makeup looks alright before grabbing my purse and turning off the lights. I go to the front door and open it to see Matt standing there. He looks so good.

“Hey baby..” He says with a warm smile. He looks nervous, exactly like he did on our first date. It’s radiating off of him and I feel my palms start to sweat. I see tear stains on his cheeks but i’d rather not bring it up and ruin the mood.. Instead I wrap arms around him and hug him.

I can feel my body shaking, I don’t wanna lose him. Why are we even trying? What was the point of splitting up if we were just going to act like a couple? Technically today, we still are one.

We finally let go of what will be one of our last hugs. My heart is still aching to the point where it’s starts to hurt physically. “Youre so beautiful.. you always have been..” He says in the sweetest, most gentle tone. He grabs me the waist pulling me closer, while looking me up and down in awe.

“Thank you baby..” I reply, smiling and I press a kiss to his lips. “You ready to go?” He asks. His tone almost sad. But I nod and smile in response.

This is what I was still holding on to. Moments like these. Moments like last night, and this morning. I love him. So much. I wish he would just tell me that he takes it all back. That he wants to be with me. That he wants to try again.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

I grab her hand after she locks her door and I lead her to my car, opening the door for her. She kisses me on the way in before smiling at me. Her smile makes my heart flutter. She’s so beautiful. Everything about her is just so beautiful.

I kiss her again before shutting the door and making my way around the car and into the drivers seat. We buckle ourselves in before I start the car. The sun still setting by the minute.

I roll the windows down, the air warm and fresh, and Y/n plays music, singing along with it, and I can’t help but smile and steal a few glances at her. We stop at a red light and I reach in the backseat. She looks at me, confused and I grab the plumeria flowers, handing them to her.

She freezes and she looks up at me almost in shock. She knows. I can tell that she wants to cry but she doesn’t. She flashes me a big smile. “Thank you so much baby, I love them!” She says with the biggest smile before smelling them. “Of course, i’m glad you like them..” I say reaching over and putting my hand on her thigh, caressing it gently before just letting my thumb glide side to side.

I’m devastated that i’m losing all of this. I can’t believe I treated her the way I did. I wish I could take back everything i’ve said to hurt her. Maybe this wouldn’t be happening. If i would’ve just treated her right and gave her the love and attention that she deserves. I let my career get in the way of our relationship. Our love.

“I’m glad we’re doing this.” I say, glancing at her. “Me too, Matt. I’m really glad.” She responds. “I’m sorry.” I say, my voice cracking. Dammit, why do I keep crying. She turns her head too quick to look at me. “I’m sorry for all the things I did and said to push you away. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you better.” I swallow the lump in my throat. She takes my hand that’s still on her thigh and she kisses it.

“It’s okay Matt.. like you said, it’s for the best.. It just wasn’t working for either of us…” I nod and I want to tell her that I take it back, but I can’t. I know I can’t.

“Now let’s talk about something else to get your mind off of it yea?” she says smiling at me. How can she smile? How can she keep her composure when she’s probably more hurt than I am. I’m the one who said it won’t work. But I nod again. We talk about some more random things like our careers and future projects we might have planned and want to do.

We arrive at the restaurant and she looks at me with her jaw dropped while smiling. The same restaurant that I brought her to on our first date. “Ravioli?” She asks with a shriek, her voice crackling when she does. “Ravioli.” I nod chuckling her reaction.

I kiss her hand before unbuckling my seatbelt and I get out, making my way to the passenger side and opening the door for her, grabbing her hand to help her out. “I swear, you’re so beautiful baby.” I say closing the door before wrapping my arms around her waist pulling her closer and I kiss her.

“I could look at you for the rest of my life, and never get tired..”I mumble, against her lips before moving my kisses down to her jaw, then to her neck. She giggles at the feeling, making my heart flutter at the sound of her laugh.

I leave a small subtle hickey before pulling away and kissing her lips one more time and I grab her hand. “Let’s go.” I say, locking the car as I lead her towards the restaurant.

We go inside and I request the same table we had on the first date and thankfully, it was available. We get seated and handed our menus but we don’t bother to look inside because we both know we’re getting ravioli.

“I love that we’re recreating our first date.” She says, reaching across the table to hold my hand. “I thought you might. It feels like our first date all over again.” I smile, planting a gentle kiss against her knuckles.

The waitress comes over and we order, and not long after we get our food. We talk, eat and laugh about old times for hours, and eventually we’re the last people at the restaurant, the night coming to an end.

I pay the bill and we go quiet. Neither of us wanting the night to end. We stand up and I grab her hand leading her out the restaurant and I walk over to the trunk grabbing a blanket. “We’re going to the park too?” She smiles looking back towards the park next to the restaurant and I nod smiling.

“Gotta recreate our first date for our last.” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her towards the park, the only lights being the dim street lights. I lead her to the grass, placing the blanket down and I kneel, helping her down before we both lay, looking up at the stars with her head and hand resting on my chest.

This feels right. The coldness of the night breeze making me feel peace. The mix of the stars and the streetlights, highlighting her features perfectly.

Hours pass. We talk while stargazing and eventually it’s 2 am. “I don’t want this night to end..” She’s says quietly. “Me neither baby..” I say, holding her closer.

Eventually we get up and she start to shiver so I wrap the blanket around her and hold her for a little before we stroll down the park back to my car.

I open the passenger door and let her inside before shutting the door while taking a deep breath and walking over to my side. I get in and it’s quiet. I glance at her and I can see her devastation.

I start the car and start driving towards her house. I put my hand on her thigh again, caressing it, and she grabs my hand intertwining her fingers with mine. The whole ride there silent.

When we arrive, I look over at her and she’s already looking at me with tears rolling down her cheeks at a rapid pace and she breaks down into sobs, her breath pace increasing.

To no surprise I start crying too. I get out of the car running to her side, opening the door and practically yanking her out, into a hug. Her sobs are killing me. “Listen to me Y/n.” I say lifting her head from my chest, cupping her cheeks, and wiping her tears with my thumbs.

“I’ll always be here for you, i’ll always love you so much, you’re the love of my life. No matter what, it’s always gonna be you baby.” I cry softly, pulling her head back to my chest. Her cries die down and all I hear is her occasional sniffling. “I love you, Matt..” she hiccups. “I love you too y/n.. more than life itself. I always will. Always and forever..” I say mumbling into her hair.

She pulls back and kisses me, and we make out slowly and passionately, taking our time, tears mixed in between. I give her one more soft loving kiss but eventually we part and my heart shatters into so many pieces to the point where i’m not sure that there even is one.

We let go of eachother and she makes her way towards her door and when she reaches it she looks back at me one more time. “I love you.” She says, with a teary smile. “I love you more.” I say smiling back, my own tears rolling down my face.

She watches me a little longer before turning around and unlocking her door, disappearing inside after she closes it. I take in the bittersweet moment. The love of my life is officially gone.

I take deep breaths as I walk to my door and I get in, starting the car and immediately driving away, because if I didn’t, I would be banging on her door begging her to stay with me.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Y/n’s Pov:

I feel my heart break the more that I watch his car fade into the distance through my window and after i can’t see it anymore, I walk over to my couch and plopping on it. The silence too silent, like im drowning in it.

I look at the promise ring on my finger that he gave me long ago when we hit our 2 year anniversary. Taking in the memories that came with it. Remembering every detail of that beautiful night.

I stare at the boxes of my things that are still packed and I look around, taking in the emptiness and loneliness of my new home. 5 years with the love of my life… gone.. and I miss him already.. I miss him so much and all of our memories come flooding back. But then I realize that this was goodbye.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Matt’s Pov:

As I drive further away from y/n’s house, a part of me is gone and feels like it’s been taken, but I know this was my doing. It’s all my fault. I need somewhere to go. To feel at peace. But then it hits me. The beach.

I drive to the beach, trying to drown out the painful after thoughts of losing y/n and the aching in my chest. My vision becomes blurry when soft tears fill my eyes.

I play music to try and drown out the images. The images of her smiling at me. The sound of her laughter. The sound of her crying. But it’s all too much and it doesn’t help that white ferrari by frank ocean starts playing.

When I get to the beach I park and pause. As if time stopped and I take in the sight, the memories flooding back all at once.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

Flashback:

“Where are you taking me?” Y/n giggles, as my hands are covering her eyes. “Be patient my love, you’ll see..” I say placing a kiss on her temple. I lead her to the spot at the beach and I uncover her eyes.

A whole picnic set up for us with blankets, pillows, her favorite snacks and board games. “Oh my god..” She says looking back at me with her jaw dropped and she jumps into my arms and I catch her, holding her up by her thighs, kissing her face repeatedly.

Her skin is soft and her hair is flowing with the night breeze making her look more beautiful than ever. The city lights reflecting on her face, highlighting her beautiful features.

I put her down giving her a kiss and I pull her down onto the blankets and pillows. “I have one more surprise for you my love..” I say, brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

“Another one? Baby you didn’t have to-“ She says. “Shush, you deserve it and so much more.” I say cutting her off and pulling out a ring. “It’s a promise ring.”

She smiles and her eyes well up with tears. “Matt that’s so sweet oh my goodness..” She says trying to hold back her tears. I pause and take a deep breath before speaking.

“Y/n I promise to always be here for you, to be the one who cherishes your love. I promise to be faithful and to be the man that you deserve.” I say, sliding the ring on her ring finger. “I promise to be the woman you deserve too baby.. I promise i’ll always love you..” she says hugging me.

After that she lays in my lap, her upper back against my chest and her head against the crook of my neck as I hold her. We watch the stars and stare out into the darkness of the ocean, the city lights reflecting onto the water. The night is perfect and so is she.

I turn her face towards me and I gently kiss her lips. “I love you Y/n..” I say with a smile. “I love you more baby..”

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

I walk towards where the sea meets the land and I sit in the very spot from that night, I breathe and take in the night air. The waves crash gently against the shore, a soothing rhythm that once matched the beat of our hearts.

I sat at the edge of the ocean, the place where we made our promises. The night sky seems endless, but it only reminds me of the distance between us now. Every memory we shared flashed before my eyes, each one more vivid than the last. The laughter, the tears, the promises we made.. they all feel so close, yet so far away.

In that moment, I realize that everything we had was slipping through my fingers like sand and I regret everything I said that pushed you away, I just want you back.

The echoes of our last conversation lingered in the air, haunting me with every breath I take. The place we once cherished now feels empty, a different contrast to the warmth you brought into my life.

The sky darkened, identical to the darkness I now feel in my life. The gentle breeze that once brought your laughter now carried only silence.

I sat there, hoping for a miracle, a sign that you might come back. A sign that this wasn't the end. I could only hope that we’d find each other again when the time was right.. but for now, I whispered your name one last time, knowing deep down that this was goodbye, and just like that you were gone.

Then I lost you.

———- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ———-

3,086 words.

A/N: (Ahhh my first series is finally finished!! I’m so devastated, and i’m as we speak. Thank you all for the support and I really hope you guys love this last part :) thank you 🫶🏼)

Taglist: @urmom69lol @imwetforyourmom @tsturniolo4 @watercolorskyy @starzinasblog @urfavstromboli @sturniqloo @star-yawnznn @h3arts4harry @asherrisrandom

[robinsfilm]

TOUNGE TIED

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ reader ;

SYNOPSIS: hidden away in a library, you bask in seeing that pink hue on jason's cheeks ;

ANON ASKED: " Reader teasing Jason over his blushing. You can decide whether they're in an established or pre-established relationship. " ;

WORD COUNT: 0.9k ;

NOTES: took a while to get this request done, not because the writing took some time, it was just because this is my first ever time getting actual requests, so i am all over the place with this. in this work reader and jason aren't in a relationship yet. thank you anon for the request <3

♯ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

A SUBTLE TINGLING OF THE BELL SHIMMERED IN THE AIR. The old smell of book pages spreads through the small library. Its rusty brick outside, snuggled between two towering buildings, had caught Jason's eye during patrol a few days ago.

He contemplated asking you if you'd like to visit the little, small haven he had found. Every time the thought crossed his mind, a warm feeling spread through his body; his cheeks felt hot and his hands shaky.

Weird, but now that doesn't matter.

What matters is that somehow you both were in the doorway of the said library.

Your eyes darted around the room laid in front of you, curiosity obvious in your gaze. The library had truly had a homey, cozy feeling to it. Your hand grazed Jason's as you pointed out a decoration on the wall next to the two of you, though Jason's mind was preoccupied by the small touch of your hand on his.

Was it silly, he thought, that even a single graze had him tripping over his words?

The same warmth spreads through him now as it did then when he thought of ways to bring you here; what do I say to them? Should I label this as a date? Or is that too soon?

He remembers mentioning the small library when you piped up and suggested both of you visited the place.

“C’mon, Jaybeans! It’ll be fun. You and me.” You and me.

You took the words out of his mouth, literally. Answer, goddamn it!

“Yes!” he says, a bit too loud. You tilt your head, a smirk appearing on your face.

Oh, he wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face. With a kiss, preferably. You'd have a field day teasing him for that as well. He can’t really seem to mind; a kiss from you seems worth it.

He's forced to snap out of his daydream when he hears your melodic voice ring out in his ears.

“Earth to Jason,” you quip, not before raising a brow, “what's got you all quiet? You seem nervous.”

Goddamn you and how well you know him and his tells.

“Nothing,” he stammers as he answers, “now, let's go in.”

The warmth of the library makes both of you feel the unforgiving cold of the Gotham weather. The freezing hands hidden in pockets slowly peeking out, faces hiding under scarves poking out.

More accurately, his face pokes out from the scarf wrapped around him. Your scarf, he should add on that.

He almost stopped dead in his tracks when you turned to him and wrapped the fluffy, crocheted by hand scarf around him.

You scolded him about dressing appropriately for the weather. He should have been listening; god knows he hangs onto every word you say, but at that moment every sound was lost on him.

The saccharine-intoxicating smell of the fabric engulfed him wholly.

You eyed him a moment then, eyes squinting as if taking every detail of him, before you muttered just for him to hear.

“It looks good on you.”

Jason feels his cheeks grow hot—too hot, his palms grow sweaty. God, when did it get so hot?

The last thing he remembers seeing is your face breaking into a proud smile.

He hopes you won't ask for the scarf back, he thinks as he gathers both of your coats to set on the rack.

The book shelves fill the entire library so much that there's barely any space for the two of you. You don't seem to mind, he notes, as you drag him down the shelves, bodies close.

He runs his hand through his hair nervously, black and white steaks getting caught between his fingers. He has styled it. Did you notice, he thinks? Does he want you to notice?

Yes, he concludes, he does.

“Hm,” you hum, “I’ve been planning on reading Emma since you mentioned it.” You remembered that? He thinks as you look through the books to find your desired one.

‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.’

He remembers that single quote; it rings over in his mind repeatedly.

Get it together, Jason, he scolds himself.

“It has ‘the I-am-going-to-scoop-my-heart-out-with-a-spoon level romance of Pride & Prejudice’” he muses.

“It better not be like Mansfield Park,” you puff. “Jane, I'm not mad; I’m just disappointed.”

His laugh slipped out, low and warm. You take in the sight in front of you: his laugh; his smile, his eyes smiling alongside with it; the scrunching of his nose.

It’s truly a heavenly sight.

Oh, only if you could tell him.

“You should laugh more,” you simply say. It’ll do for now; it’ll do until he gives you the okay, the okay to tell him all of it.

You'll bask in his blushes and stutters as he tries to gather his thoughts.

“What?”

“You should laugh more,” you contemplate for a second, “and blush more.”

“You—” he huffs, “just get the book.” He tries to turn his head away from you, though the red on the tip of his ears is telling you all you need to know.

You'll wait; he'll wait as well.

Because all of this is worth the wait.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[allfortheslay25]

In an au where milo has siblings that aren't Maya and Ollie, what would they be like and how would it affect the canon lore in miloverse?

Finally, I can answer this ask✨

Sorry for the long wait, I ended up pretty busy with my job and was backed up with loads of asks (I don’t like mixing my doodles unless it’s just one or two but I had HUNDREDS of asks about All for the fish and decided to just pick through and answer as many as I dared)

Anyways! For Other Kids AU (aka separate ‘what if’ AUs where the Foxes have other or more kids)

Ofc I thought of more andreil kids. What do you take me for? The aftg brainrot is my disease✋😔

⚠️ this is not canon to We’ll Both Be Fine or Milo’s main story in general. This is a what if situation ⚠️

Admittedly, they could have been canon but andreil didn’t care about having more children. Milo was enough for them.

The first kid is Connie (Conner David) born 2011. Andrew and Neil decide not to deletus the fetus and so Connie is born. It is actually Nicky who gets to name him :)

Milo is very happy and emotional about having a little brother and tries to involve himself in every second of his life. They grow up very close, Connie looking up to Milo a bit.

Connie likes writing, cookies with jam, and spring

Dislikes conflict, chewing gum, and his freckled eyes (has eye nevus)

Second are the twins, Honey (Miela Marie) and Niko (Nicholas Nolan) both born 2014. Very simple decision from andreil that since Connie went well, why not test fate? And then they had twins who tried to make their lives hell. Andreil let the Foxes brainstorm names and send their best picks for andreil to choose through before narrowing it down to six (three if it’s a girl and three if it’s a boy) (they didn’t know it’d be twins) and let the foxes make a unanimous decision. The foxes decided on Nolan for a boy and Miela for a girl. Andrew and Neil ended up naming the boy Nicholas (Nicky cried about it for days) and gave Miela the middle name Marie after Abby.

Although Milo loves his new siblings, the twins are very hard to deal with and whine to him about every thing instead of andreil. The kids are also a bit air headed and tend to be hurtful without meaning to. When Milo goes to college, he finds out that they replace him with Connie who takes care of them as if they were his kids. (Admittedly, they love Connie more and it hurts Milo’s feelings)

Honey likes apiculture, traveling, food

Dislikes sitting still, sharing her things, being told what to do

Niko likes sports, napping, living life to the fullest

Dislikes being active (when it’s not sports), alcohol, explaining himself (he can’t)

Old concept designs when I was first making them

Some facts:

- Honey and Niko don’t consider Milo their brother but not in a malicious way. In their weird minds, he’s too old and different (however, they consider him family the same way Nicky, Aaron, Kevin, and Robin are)

- Honey lives with Nicky and Erik in Germany. She goes to school there

- Connie briefly lived with Stuart in the UK for two years, studying literature and journalism

- Niko doesn’t like playing exy but he goes pro as a hockey player since it’s similar

- they all call Milo something different. Connie calls him Brother or Milo, Honey calls him Mywo (Me - Woah), Niko calls him Lio or Em

- Milo used to take the kids to school (either walking or driving) since the twins were in daycare

- each kid is represented by one of the many animals that represent Milo. The rabbit (Connie), the bird (Honey) and the cat (Niko). With them, Milo is the dog. (Each animal makes up a part of Milo’s personality)

-⬆️ specific animals: White bunny (Connie) summer tanager (Honey) orange tabby (Niko) Wolf or Fox (Milo). However if they were Milo; New Zealand rabbit, Crow, and Red Siberian cat

- Maya would not be born in this au because at that point, they’d have their hands full with the twins and there’s no reason to have another. Ollie would have not been adopted either

[aziraphales-library]

Hi,

Could I ask for some roommate fics? A little pining is great but I'm not a huge fan of too much angst.

There is one roommate fic I remember that I'd love to find again, it was set during lockdown, and azirphale was a virgin but was talking to Agnes on zoom with plans to date. Crowley offers to teach him about sex, and it gets physical, even though they're straight buddies ..of course. 😏

Thankyou

We have a #roommates tag. Here's the one you're looking for and a few more to add...

Not a Mounted Dildo but a Fuck Machine by NaroMoreau, summerofspock (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley have lived together for three years when lockdown goes into effect. When Aziraphale meets a nice girl on Tinder who he thinks is his perfect match, he's delighted. There's just one hurdle: that pesky virginity thing. Lucky for him, Crowley has always been there for him. He's helped Aziraphale with every other problem through the years, why not this one?

Tinder Dates Gone Wrong by OceanLace (E)

Aziraphale decides to take a risk and brings a man home but doesn't realize that his roommate and best friend had the same idea. Things don't turn out the way either of them were expecting but end up exactly how they wanted.

Principles of Proximity by Cannebady (E)

Crowley's plan is to get through grad school in one piece and then live his bachelor dream life. With a less-than-wholesome upbringing and no real human ties to speak of, he's made a life for himself. It's just fine, actually. And he's fine too, while you're at it. Enter new roommate, Aziraphale, who just might teach him the benefits of putting down roots.

…And They Were Roommates by Mimsynims (E)

“You know… I just remembered that Richard and I were going away for a few days next month.” Something devious came over him. “Richard paid for it, but the booking is in my name.” Crowley quickly caught on to what he was getting at. “Ooh, I see. That’s convenient.” He grinned. “For us." When Aziraphale's boyfriend Richard (Dick) breaks up with him, he and his roommate Crowley hijacks an intended couples' vacation and uses it for themselves. Lines that had started to blur even before their trip gets even more blurry - which perhaps isn't the best thing when both are hiding a crush on the other (and communication isn't their strong suit).

make it with you by NaroMoreau (E)

PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY: A romantic couples study!! ------ Aziraphale and Crowley are broke roommates who are struggling to keep up with rent and a harsh landlord. After Crowley loses his job and Aziraphale's bookshop hasn't managed to make enough profit, they'll resort to anything to save what they love, and when they come across with the idea of a paid study for couples... Because some ideas are good until they aren't.

You Can Stay At My Place (And We Can Fall in Love) by IneffableToreshi (E)

Anthony Crowley is an art student with a heart of gold and a broad assumption about himself and his own (apparent lack-of) sexuality. When he meets literary student Aziraphale, he thinks he's found a great friend and possibly the perfect roommate. But when an exceptionally idiotic idea turns into Aziraphale reluctantly agreeing to pretend to be Crowley's boyfriend, Crowley rapidly realizes that he may not have been nearly so asexual as he originally thought...

10,000 Hours by AnnaTheHank (E)

Rich playboy Anthony Crowley has finally broken the last straw. He's been disowned by his grandmother, and turned away by his family. With no money and no where to go, he heads to the old family cabin to lay low until it all blows over. Romance writer A.Z. Fell has been given use of her publisher's cabin to get away from the city and work on her newest book-her first erotica. Neither expected the other to be there, but there they both were. And AZ finds that Crowley's vast knowledge of sex may just make up for her own lacking knowledge when it comes to writing her book.

- Mod D

[coco-cinnamon]

Safe With You | JJ Maybank

୨୧ Warnings: Cursing, smut, angst, soft!sex, unprotected sex, soft!JJ, abuse, violence, has a fluffy ending, 18+ MDNI.

୨୧ Pairings: JJ Maybank x Female Kook Reader

୨୧ Summary: In which JJ helps his girlfriend get away from his father when she goes over to his home to see him.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.5k

୨୧ Author's Note: this fic is from my old blog @babeydollx. this and most of my other fics will be reposted over here to my new blog. Also I fr have no idea why this fic is written from my pov and not Y/N's because that isn't usually how I write but I was too lazy to fix it, sorry! Maybe someday lol.

© coco-cinnamon 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.

I arrived at JJ's house to see him. JJ and I rarely got time to see eachother since we were on different sides of the island. My parents always had me busy with some shit all the time. It was exhausting and annoying.

I never had time for JJ anymore and I hated it. So, I decided that I would surprise him at his house to see him. I missed him so much and I knew that he missed me too. I couldn't wait to see JJ again and be in his arms.

I walked up to the house and knocked on the door. I waited for a minute or two but there was no answer. I could hear movement inside of the house so I knew that someone had to be home. You decided to try and open the door.

When I turned the door knob the door easily opened. I slowly walked inside and looked around. The house was messy and I could smell beer and weed. As I looked around, I jumped when I herd glass shatter. 

What the hell was going on? Was JJ okay? Was someone trying to hurt him? Millions of questions and thoughts flooded my head as I looked for JJ. The sounds were coming from the backyard. I dashed out to the backyard to see JJ on the ground with an older man on top of him and punching him.

"Stop! Stop hurting him! Please!" I screamed as I ran over to the two men in the backyard. I couldn't pull the older man of of JJ so I grabbed a empty beer bottle off of the ground and smashed it over his head.

Luke stopped punching JJ and got dizzy before collapsing on the ground. JJ sat up on the ground and looked over at me in shock. 

"What the hell are you doing here?!" JJ asked.

"I- I came to see you.." I said.

"Didn't I tell you to not come here?" He asked.

"You did but, it had been so long since I saw you so I thought I could surprise you. I didn't expect for any of this to happen. Who is he? Why was he hurting you?" You asked.

"He's, uhm... he's my dad." JJ mumbled. 9

"He's your father?!" I asked in shock. JJ nodded. "Why would he hurt you?!" I yelled.

"I don't know. Cause he is constantly drunk and high I guess." He shrugged. "I'm use to it by now, he's been doing it for years." JJ said. I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. This was absolutely heartbreaking. How could a parent do this to their child?

Before I could say anything else to JJ, someone tackled me to the ground harshly. I screamed when it happened. 

"GET OFF OF HER!" JJ yelled. Luke was on top of me. I tried to fight Luke off but he began to hit me hard. I screamed and cried more as he continued to hit me. I could hear JJ yelling and trying to pull his father off of me.

Finally, JJ had got Luke off of me and began to beat the shit out of Luke. I scrambled to my feet and watched the scene go down. I could feel tears streaming down my face still and I was in pain. After a few minutes of JJ beating Luke up, he finally got off of him and ran over to me.

He hugged me and I hid my face in his chest. I finally felt safe. I knew that even if Luke woke up again that JJ would keep me safe, he would make sure that Luke wouldn't hurt me again or worse. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?!" JJ asked worried as he checked me for any terrible injuries. 

"I'm okay." I said with a sniffle and nodded. 

"I am so sorry that this happened to you. You shouldn't have had to see any of this." JJ said with a frown as he hugged me again. 

"I'm sorry that you have had to go through this for years.." I said with a frown. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening to you?" I asked.

"Because I didn't want you to worry. This isn't your burden to bare, Y/N.." He said. 

"JJ.. we're a team. You can tell me anything and everything, okay? Whatever you are dealing with, I want to be there for you to help you." I said. JJ nodded slowly. "Anyways, did you want to stay the night at my place tonight? My parents are out of town so we have the house to ourselves." I said with a smile.

"That would be nice. Thanks, Y/N." He said with a smile.

"Anytime." I said as JJ and I get ready to go to my house.

We arrived at my house and went inside together. I got both of us a water bottle and then we both went upstairs to my bedroom. I gave him his water bottle and sat down on the bed beside him and we talked for a while. After we both chatted for a bit, we both went silent not knowing what to do next.

"So, what now?" I asked looking over at JJ. He sat there thinking for a moment before looking back over at me. A smirk spread across his face.

"I have a few ideas." He said with a smirk. Before I could ask him any questions he kissed me passionately. I kissed back, melting into the kiss. The was he kissed me was magical. He always knew how to make me feel a certain way without even trying. 

As we made out, he gently pushed me down onto my back onto the bed. I ran my hands through his soft, blond hair as the two of us made out. Once we got both of our clothes off and out of the way, JJ was positioning himself between my legs.

I held onto his shoulders tightly and sucked in a breath as JJ slowly pushed inside of me. I gasped and moaned out softly. He groaned quietly as he bottomed out. He then began to thrust into me.

I gently threw my head back and groaned out. I held onto him tightly as he fucked into me, slowly picking up the pace. He continued to slowly pick up the pace until he was fucking me at an ungodly pace.

I moaned out even louder than I did before. I arched my back off of the bed and moaned out, almost screaming at this point. I could feel that familiar knot bubbling in the bottom of my stomach and I knew that I was going to cum any second now. I then clenched around JJ, signaling to him that I was going to cum. 

"Fuck, you gonna cum, princess?" He asked as he groaned out.

"Yes, fuck! I'm gonna fucking cum!" I yelled. 

"Come on, cum for me." JJ said. With that my eyes rolled back and my legs began to shake as I came hard on JJ's hard cock. He thrusted into me a few more times before coming himself, shooting his load deep inside of me.

JJ pulled out of me and I laid their trying to catch my breath. He laid down beside me and he was also trying to catch his breath. After we both took some time to come down from that, JJ smiled and gently pulled me over and snuggled me.

I giggled when he did so. I always loved to be in JJ's arms. He always made me feel so safe. We both laid there together and talked for awhile while we were tangled in each other's arms. After we both talked and snuggled, we both fell asleep together.

I woke up the next morning to see that JJ was no longer in bed with me. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before looking around my bedroom. No sign of JJ. As I was about to go look around the house for JJ, I saw a note on my bedside table.

I took the note off of the table and unfolded it before reading it. 

Thanks for letting me stay the night at your house, Y/N. Again, I am so sorry that you had to witness all of that yesterday and go through that. I promise I will come back later, I just have a few things to sort out with my dad. I love you, Y/N.

- JJ

I smiled at the note that JJ left me. I thought it was so sweet that he had decided to write me a note. I missed JJ so much already but, I couldn't wait to see JJ again.

Author's Note: tysm for reading, lovies!

[themasterofo]

To My Readers

Please bear with me while I take a somewhat more serious tone today. I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and finally got to putting my thoughts down.

I have always kept an eye on you readers who like and reblog my stories, and it has not gone unnoticed that, in addition to girls who more-or-less match the submissive female character I write, many of my readers are lesbian, or trans, or even sub men. Some of you I've chatted with in the past, even to the point of giving permission to rewrite my stories, altering some preferred biology and/or gender details.

I dislike virtue signaling for its own sake. I find a lot of it distasteful and self-serving, but I also know that statements of support can mean a lot to people who may not be sure that they are welcome. So it's in that spirit that I did decide to write this.

Assuming you are an adult, and that you are not a predator, you are welcome here.

Whether Dom(me) or sub, whether male, female, or anything else, and whatever genitals or body you were born with or have managed to make for yourself, you are welcome here.

I write about denial from my particular perspective, which includes my own sexuality, orientation, and gender. In my mind, the man in my stories is me, and the girl is an afab girl. Because of this, you'll hear talk about his cock, her cunt, and things like this. But, if that doesn't match you, and you still want to read, and if you identify with any part of my writing, you have my absolute blessing to take whatever liberties you wish in your own mind. Not that you needed my permission, but maybe for some it might help.

To be clear, for my own part, I'm not really interested in interacting sexually with sub men, or with girls who don't match the physical type of person that I'm attracted to (girls with a cunt). I don't mean any offense here and I hope that none is taken. For me, life is too short to do anything other than follow what makes you feel authentically happy, and that's part of what does. But it costs me nothing to accept the gender or sexuality that someone identifies with themselves, and I consider it a matter of kindness and decency to do so.

But I am also happy to chat with anyone in about denial and so forth, as long as there is respect and if I have the time (the latter being a larger issue these days!)

So in summary, welcome. If you're a sub, I hope you find inspiration here, and I hope you can learn to edge more and cum less, if you agree with me that this is what's probably best for you. If you're a Dom(me), I hope you enjoy the stories and maybe get some inspiration and ideas to take responsibly to the sub(s) in your life. I tell sub girls they don't have my permission to cum when reading my blog, but if that doesn't resonate with you - you do you. And if you want to imagine that my Dom character is a woman, or that the sub character has a cock, or whatever else will make bring you some happiness, just do it.

[fazedlight]

Plummet (Cat's perspective on Falling)

Cat had started so optimistic. Kiera, finally dressing as an adult? It was a promising development for her executive-assistant-slash-vigilante, one that suggested the kryptonian could possibly grow a backbone in the near future. Goodness knows Kiera desperately needed to come out of her shell. 

Cat had ignored the… well, cattiness emanating from the blonde. A bit of cynicism would’ve been icing on the proverbial cake, had it not heralded something darker.

But when Siobhan marched proudly into Cat’s office, showing her the security footage of Supergirl letting a dangerous criminal go, Cat knew something more was going on. And this morning she used my personal elevator. Perhaps she’s truly lost her mind, Cat thought. “It could be another Bizarro,” Cat said to a disapproving Siobhan, “Put this under your hat until we figure out what’s going on.”

---

Kiera seemed to only get more haughty over time. “You’ve branded me in the media as a girl scout,” the kryptonian said bitterly. “Everyone knows real people have a dark side.”

Where is this coming from?, Cat thought. Psychotic break, brainwashing? Carter loved that old TV show with the star treks, and once spent an entire month talking about mirror universes. Was this an evil Kiera with an invisible goatee? “I fear that you're having some sort of mental breakdown,” Cat said, “Don't worry, it happens to the best of us-”

But Kiera snapped back. “You are the most arrogant, self-serving, mean-spirited person I know.” Tell me how you really feel, Cat thought to herself, but she had to admit that those words struck a little close.

But that hurt was very rapidly replaced by a more primal fear as the kryptonian approached her. “You want to see what powerful really looks like?” Kiera said, “Watch.”

---

They say your life flashes before your eyes. That’s not what Cat saw. Nor did she have a single coherent thought, other than Carter’s face and endless screaming.

Luckily for her, her assailant didn’t kill her. Cat collapsed inelegantly to the ground, turning back up in a panic as the scornful kryptonian stared down at her. “True power, Cat,” Kara scoffed, “Is in deciding who will live, and who will die.”

Somewhere in the back of Cat’s mind - a stray thought as she tried to calm her pounding heart - she understood. She has all this power, but she couldn’t save her planet. Kiera was just as frustrated at her own powerlessness; her history would be enough to cause anyone to have a psychotic break.

Unfortunately, it didn’t change what Cat had to do next.

---

“People are in danger,” she said to James and Winn, as she shared her plan for a televised broadcast on the kryptonian’s erratic and terrifying behavior, “The public needs to be warned.”

“Miss Grant,” James started, “Look, I am sure that Supergirl is going to be fine soon-”

“Can you guarantee me that the public is safe?”

James and Winn shifted guiltily. I know this isn’t her, Cat wanted to say, I know this isn’t who she is. But Cat couldn’t carry a death on her shoulders of someone who trusted Supergirl because of her words. And Cat suspected that Kara - if the girl ever recovered - couldn’t bear that guilt either.

But she hated every moment.

---

Is there any recovery from this?

Kiera had been a wreck at work that day, scurrying around the office with slumped shoulders and stressed eyes, avoiding Cat entirely. Cat supposed she was breathing easier now that Kiera was back to normal, but it still evoked the same question - What happens with Supergirl next?

As Cat walked into her office that evening - intent to pour herself a stiff drink - she was surprised to find a metal tube set on her desk, with a folded piece of paper propped up against it. “I’m sorry,” the letter read, in familiar loopy, feminine writing. “I wasn’t myself.”

Cat opened the tube, noting a strange green glow inside. Kryptonite, she realized, sighing internally at the thought of Kara entrusting her with this sort of protection. “I don’t want you to feel unsafe. If you want me to stop interacting with you, I will,” the letter read. Cat closed the tube, mulling again over her assistant’s state of mind. Sighing, she placed the tube in a drawer, pouring herself a drink as she had planned, before making her way to her balcony.

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the super when she stepped out, but somehow she was. Kiera sat far from the door, quiet as she looked out onto the city lights. Cat knew the super must’ve heard her, but she didn’t face her - perhaps waiting for the sendoff she thought she deserved.

Cat stepped forward quietly, reaching the railing of the balcony. And that’s what gave Kiera the courage to speak. “I love this city,” she said solemnly.

Cat stood silently, listening to the kryptonian’s words - weighing the tender passion with the agonizing remorse. “What I did to you, Miss Grant-”

“Oh please,” Cat said, shrugging off. “I’ve base jumped Kilimanjaro, do you really think you scared me?”

Well, that was a lie, and they both knew it. “Okay, yes, you did scare me.”

“I scared the whole city,” Kara lamented.

“It’s not going to be easy,” Cat said. “But if anyone can win this city back, it’s you.”

Kara nodded gratefully, biting back unshed tears. “Can I just… stay here for a while?”

“Of course,” Cat said softly. 

In the soft breeze and the quiet night, the two looked back over the city, and wondered what was to come.

----------------------------------------------------

I found it a really weird writing choice that Kara never apologized to Cat - or didn't seem to understand the fear she must've instilled in her, after throwing her off a building - so I tried to fix it here. (I have thoughts on Kara's relationship with kryptonite, but I will spare this post of that ramble.)

[ghostbustting]

Ok so,firstly hiii! I love your writing style sm!

Would you ever consider doing a Cliff or Jason one shot where the reader is super self conscious about her being “plus-size” and “not being a typical rockstar girlfriend” and them comforting her and it leads to some really sweet love making 😭

Cliff is my number one man and I hardly see any fics for him fr

CLIFFCLIFFCLIFF !! (yes i'm back. yes i'm disappearing again.)

♯ ; 𝑴𝒀 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 ༘⋆

Cliff Burton x Plus size!Reader

Contains Smut.

With my own fingers fiddling with the hem of my uncomfortably fitting dress, my eyes wander around the diner booth we were all sitting at. By we, I was referring to me, my boyfriend Cliff, his three bandmates, and their awfully drop dead gorgeous girlfriends.

It was a relaxing Saturday night, Cliff had brought me with him to go have dinner with his bandmates and their girlfriends at some local diner.

However, the rest of the dinner night, I felt like I do not belong here, like I could never fit in well between these rockstars and their girlfriends. No matter how reassuring and comforting having Cliff's presence close next to me, it didn't make me oblivious to how much of a contrast the difference between me and his bandmates' girlfriends is.

They were perfectly good looking to say the least. Thin figures, curves accentuated perfectly in their tight dress they probably didn't have to overthink much about, no thunder thighs filling up their seats, smiles so wide without their cheeks looking like they're swollen.

On the other hand, I stood out... not in a very pleasing way. It's more like as if I was a sore thumb. My eyes could never stand the numbers that showed up on the weight scales whenever I stood on it. The beautiful small dresses I saw down the streets would never fit the shape of my body.

Cliff made it his task to make me feel loved, and I knew he really do love me. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm not what people expected, doesn't change the fact that I'm not the ideal rockstar's girlfriend.

So here I sat next to him, head hung low, the food I had ordered barely touched, my ears not even picking up on the conversation around me, eyes focused on getting the end of my dress to cover more of my insecure legs.

Even with my mind overwhelmed with that irritating sense of insecurity, the concerned gaze on me that came from Cliff’s eyes were something that I could never ignored, something so familiar that it would always hit me right away whenever I receive it, something I could recognize easily every single time.

It didn’t took long before I feel his warm hands take ahold of my cold ones, the pads of his thumbs running over my knuckles as I hear his beautiful voice whisper softly and gently into my ear, “Are you alright..? You feel sick..?” He asked, the worry accentuated enough in his voice.

However, I try to cover it up, “I’m alright..” I whisper back while shaking my head with a soft smile— a smile so forced and fake that obviously someone that knew me so well and so detailed like Clifford Lee Burton wouldn’t be fooled by.

”You’re not,” Cliff spoke, with an attempt to drown all the insecurity in me with his soft gaze, “I know my happy girlfriend when I see her and this is not her.”

A sigh leave my lips and my eyes look up at him, meeting his own in an instant. He could see the weak and soft gaze of my eyes, the way my eyebrows are slightly furrowed as if I was thinking about something. He can read me like a damn opened book and I can't decide whether I hate or love him for it.

My thoughts drifted away when I hear the man spoke again, this time towards his friends, patting Kirk's back, who was sitting on the chair beside him. "Sorry, it's getting late. We have.. other plans." He say.

That was in fact, not true. I was not aware of any other plans we have scheduled after this dinner.

Hence, a look of genuine confusion was etched onto my face as he took ahold of my hand and pull me up from my seat, giving me no time to say goodbyes or grab one last french fries when he lead me out of the diner with no words of explanation.

We found ourselves driving back to his place in a weird yet comforting silence. One of Cliff’s hands was holding onto mine while the other was fixated on the steering wheel. I can feel his thumb running over my knuckles every now and then, a gesture of comfort I’m used to receive from him.

My eyes drift from our hands to the window, watching as cars drove pass us, watching the motorcycles, watching as teenagers party, craving the body those gorgeous girls possess. My eyes would still run over their perfect figure if it wasn't for Cliff's voice that snapped me out of my trance.

"What's with you tonight?"

He asked. Usually, words like that would be taken as somewhat a complain. But with Cliff, it was clear by his voice that he was asking me out of concern. He wasn't wrong about knowing a happy me and a not happy me, it was quite easy. I would've been smiling to my eyes when I'm happy, words spilling out of my lips endlessly, unlike the state I was in earlier.

A sigh left my lips as I slowly turn my attention back to Cliff, the lights of Los Angeles and the red traffic light combined with the beautiful moonlight illuminates his face, his eyes shining more than how they already were.

"I.."

"Honest. Please. I hate not seeing your smile."

A squeeze of his hand was delivered to mine, making my heart flutter just the slightest bit. There was no way in hell I'm able to decline his plead for honesty.

Slowly, I begin to speak again, a hint of uncertainty was able to be heard in the words that left my lips in a quiet question. "..Do you ever regret dating me?" I ask, my voice soft, eyes avoiding his own as I feel that same exact concerned gaze over my face the moment his head instantly snapped my way.

I could feel his gaze on me for a few minutes until the light turned green, taking his focus again as he continue driving before asking me, "Wha— why would I regret dating you? Don't be silly." He chuckled softly, taking my hand up to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

The gesture was sweet, bringing a soft smile on my face. However, It didn't take too long before my smile faded away yet again slowly as my previous thoughts of insecurity builds back up in my mind. It was like a parasite, unable to be avoided.

”It’s just..” I let out a sigh, “James, Kirk, Lars...— They have these drop dead gorgeous girls as their girls. They’re beautiful, they’re in good shape, they’re— they’re the perfect rockstar girlfriend.”

Only when I feel the car stop and park did I realize we have arrived in front of his house, away from the chaos of the traffic, the door that leads to the inside of the house seems so inviting as my body yearns to just lay on his bed. Meanwhile, the silence between us felt somehow loud, if that even makes sense. And again, his eyes gazes over me.

Cliff let out a small chuckle, “So that’s the problem? You think I’d regret dating you because of this?—” He reach out and pinch the chubby cheek of mine, pulling on it slightly. My eyes slowly gaze up into his own, revealing my glassy eyes to him. A sigh leave his lips as he cup one of my cheeks. “You think I care about whether you’re as skinny as a branch or as fluffy as a pillow?”

I let out a small strangled chuckle at his words, trying to turn my head away, to which he prevent by cupping both of my cheeks now. “I don’t want a rockstar girlfriend. I just want my girlfriend. I just want you. I want you for your heart, for your smile, for your love.” Cliff spoke so sincerely it was impossible to not believe him, especially with how deep his eyes was gazing into mine.

The smile he made at my speechless state melts my heart, listening as he say, “Come on.” Shortly after, I watch him exit the car and jog around the front only to open the door on my side of the car, the sweet smile making a stay on his face as he reach for my hand and help me out, his other hand shutting the door behind me the moment my shoes lands on the ground.

Each and every move of his only made me love him even more.

My body stayed close to him, almost as if we were attatched like magnets, all the way as he leads me into his house and into his bedroom, his hand holding mine so firmly yet gently at the same time, as if he was afraid I’d slip away, as if he was afraid the insecurity will consume me and fade me away from his life. I always loved the way he touched me, always able to make me feel loved, even the moment I lost hope in loving myself, he always made me love myself with his own love.

Slowly, I sit down on the soft matress of his bed, a spot we often find ourself laying in after a tiring day, just wrapping each other in the other’s arms, where our problems never exist, only our bloomin love.

I feel the mattres beside me sink due to Cliff’s weight as he join me, sitting on the bed as well with his hand in mine still, the pad of his thumb running over my knuckles again and again softly, a motion I’ve found rather comforting. I can feel his lips pressing soft kisses all over my cheek, yet my head was hung low, eyes on my lap.

Yet the moment he notices, he held my chin in his free hand, slowly tilting my head towards him. “Look at me.” He smile softly, making me look at him. “I want you to let your mind rest, okay? Let go of your thoughts..” His voice was soft, I couldn’t help but give in and follow the instruction he gave me, letting my thoughts drift away, letting my focus to be for him and him only.

”My girl..” He breathed out, slowly leaning in till our lips eventually meet in a soft and gentle kiss, his palm coming to rest against my cheek, the other that was previousky holding my hand slowly trails to hold my waist instead, gently pushing me down to lay on my back, my head landing smoothly on his pillow.

I sigh against his lips and watch as he lay himself down next to me, mumbling, "Cliff.." The way his hands touch me all over made me felt important, as if I was the center of the earth. To him, I probably was. After all, he never failed to make me feel that way.

Within seconds, I feel my shirt slowly being slipped over my head, my hands coming to cover my body. Despite how many times we've done this, being bare and showing the insecurity I own beneath the fabric always rewinds. Yet, Cliff only chuckled and moved my hands away, his lips pressing a short peck on my stomach.

"Beautiful." In an instant, the tenses in my body relaxes as I hear his voice, a comforting and loving lullaby.

I feel his lips press and trail kisses all the way from my stomach down to the them of my panties, his fingers slowly hooking into the waistband and sliding it down, his eyes gazing up to inspect the way I was bitting my lip from his action alone.

The moment that panties of mine was discarded, Cliff's lips were quick to attach onto my cunt— desperate, yet gentle.

A moan manage to escape my lips, a soft call of his name, "Cliff.." His name seems to be the only thing available in my dictionary at the moment, finding it difficult to let out anything from the back of my throat other than a moan, curses, and his name.

Cliff's warm tongue slides in and out of me, the very tip of his nose nudging my clit every now and then as he eat me out, ignoring the way I was squirming above him, my hand trailing down to run through his long hair. "Fuck.." I whined, my hips bucking up to try and grind against his face.

His tongue was lapping up and down my folds like a dog, a hungry dog. He makes me feel wanted. And I can't help but want him as well.

Not long, he pull back from my pussy with his lips glistening with my slick, his fingers replacing what was once his tongue, two of them running up and down my folds before sliding through them, earning a gasp from me. I feel his lips against my thigh, yet I was too caught up on the feeling of his fingers.

"Can you feel it?"

My eyes struggles to meet his as I utter out a, "What— Feel what..?" Through my moans.

"Just how much I love you."

Right as the words leave his lips, I finshed right around his fingers, clenching the digits as I did so with a loud and uncontrollable moan, my back arching like a cat you'd see down the streets.

I hear a small chuckle and a gentle, "Good girl. My girl." Before I see him stand up, his hands going to his belt as he unbuckles it, swiftly throwing it away and slipping his jeans and boxers both at once, not even wasting his time for even just a second.

Seconds later, before I knew it, he was back on top of me, his body towering over mine as he lean down to press a kiss on my cheek, "My tonight, my tomorrow, my tomorrow night, my every night, and my every day are yours okay? I can't live through this without your sweet soul." He spoke with so much genuineness in his voice.

My thoughts evaporates into thin air as he slowly slides his cock through my folds, pulling out soft noises of pleasure from both of us as one of his hands came to rest on the pillow beside my head while the other holds my own hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before he starts thrusting in and out of me, very gently.

Unlike the rather passionate love making we have done before, he was being extremely gentle this time, passionate still— yet mostly gentle and full of care as his eyes never broke the contact they had with my own eyes, a window that connects our souls.

I feel the tip of his cock hitting every special spots in me without even having to do it hard and fast. He knew me. The real me that lay upon all these insecurity. He knew me all too well. Yet he didn't even have to try. It was like nature have his own way with connecting us.

"I love you too.." I blurted out, a soft moan pulled out of the back of my throat as I slowly close my eyes.

Yet I feel his lips again, this time on my closed eyelids. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to look into my eyes and look deeply. So deep to the point you can see how much love I have." He spoke. Within seconds, my eyes were opened again and stared into his eyes again.

And just as he says, there was a certain look he had on.

A look of love.

So sweet. So deep. So tender.

His hips continue to move against mine, soft grunts slipping through his lips as my walls hug his cock just right. "Fuck.. My girl.." After he mumble this, his arms slowly wrap around my torso, his bodg pressed flushed against mine while his thrusts now becomes more deep, still in the gentle pace he was in earlier.

"Cliff..." I breathed out, my own arms around his body. Each time his cock thrusts into me, a moan would be pulled out of me while a grunt would be pull out of his, both of us becoming closer each seconds we spend in this bed.

"Come with me, sweetheart?.."

"Only with you.. Only with you.."

Not long, I feel an all too familiar knot in my stomach as he continue to hit every weak spot of mine. The way his lips were attached onto my neck and sucking marks wasn't helping with the feeling either. He could be so soft, yet I'll still be the most pleased girl in the earth. His girl.

Before I knew it, my high came crashing down around his cock, letting out a loud moan as his own seeds fill me up, his voice mumbled against my neck as he stayed close to me after our finish. I breathe in and out, all the troubles I had stomped away by a single love making.

But I knew it wasn't the love making

It was him.

He was clinging onto me like a koala, his head in my neck and his arms wrapped around me still yet so tightly, hands stroking my body in an affectionate way. He loves me. It was becoming clearer and clearer each day I spend here with him. He wants me for me. I was too blind to see the way it's all too obvious from his care, from his words, from his eyes.

And I love him too.

My boy.